Seducing Jen


Although my sister Jen is, in reality, a sweet girl; I haven’t always felt kindly towards her. To most people, she appears to be the innocent young woman. To me, however, she was forever the brat who had adopted the strategy of screaming at the top of her lungs to get her way. Eventually, I grew older. My hormones soon overwhelmed my constant annoyance with her. Jen had become a sexy girl: nice firm breasts, long coltish legs, and of course that same pretty face that had much earlier perfected her unique brand of tortured wail. I don’t know about her—but after I learned how to get what I wanted, I liked her a lot more. At least I pretended to.

My strategy was never the intentional application of some inner revelation, but more like an unintentionally systematic testing of boundaries. She liked some things. Other things she didn’t like. For one, I found that she would tolerate a great deal of physical touching as long as I was gentle and affectionate in spirit. At first, we would just “cuddle,” while watching television. She would curl up on the floor in front of the television, and I would lay down near her, curling myself up, in a friendly, “big-brotherly’ sort of way. The fact that she rather enjoyed the cuddling was incidental to the massive hard-on that tented my pants. The fog of lust pushed any doubts about the correctness of my intentions aside. I took what I could get.

One night, our parents were away for the evening. By tradition, I was “in charge,” although this was clearly irrelevant at our ages. Still, in the back of my mind I knew this was a chance to get in a good grope without the parents’ potential interference. After she came back from swimming practice, Jen had a favorite show that she liked to watch. So right before it came on, I sprawled out on the floor, laying my hand at my side. Jen settled down into her usual position on her stomach and elbows, supporting her chin with her hands. I’m sure she knew what was going on, but there was an unspoken agreement—a certain feigned ignorance that was necessary to the process. I pretended to watch the show she was watching, with a great display of interest. After a little bit, I rested my hand along the back of her thigh.

“Nice armrest … ” I murmured, as if to clarify my ostensive purpose. I could feel the back of her warm thigh beneath the palm of my hand. She was wearing shorts, so my hand was directly on her bare thigh. I watched her reaction. She didn’t say anything. I let gravity pull my arm down, so that my arm slid down between her legs on the floor, and my palm and arm was on her inner thigh.

“Hey.” She said sharply. “Umm … If you’re gonna do that—perhaps you could massage my legs?”

I took my opportunity, and got right behind her, straddling her legs. I was wearing long pants, so I could not feel the bare skin of her thighs against my own inner thighs. But I could feel the firm flesh through my pants. I massaged each of her thighs thoroughly, gradually working my way up to her crotch. Casually, as if it were nothing, I asked:

“Would you like me to massage your butt?”

“Um, sure.” She replied. With deep, long, strokes, I pulled at the muscles in her ass. It was firm, and it felt so good. I wanted to feel her bare skin, though. Watching her carefully for a reaction, I slipped my hands up the back of her shorts and under the elastic of her panties. I firmly grasped the globes of her ass, my thumbs gradually slipping down along the crack of her ass…

A commercial came on the television. “Umm” she said, “I’ve gotta go pee.”

My heart was racing and the pressure at the base of my abdomen was overwhelming. I got up. “It’s kind of warm,” I dropped casually. “I think I’m going to change.” I tactfully hid my erection with my forearm.

I practically ran to my room. I shucked my socks and shoes and underwear, and pulled out my nylon running shorts. Pulling them on, I walked nonchalantly back into the living room. I noticed that Jen had taken off her shoes. She was now barefoot like me. She settled down into the same position as before, propping her chin with her palms.

I didn’t say anything. I just straddled her thighs, and continued massaging her upper thighs, occasionally venturing up beneath her shorts. I could feel the smooth skin of her thighs, now, against the bare skin of my own inner Anadolu Yakası Escort thighs.

Nothing going on here. Just a massage. That’s right. Jen looked back at me, pointedly. “Oh.” she said. “Get my back, too?”

“Sure.” I replied. “What’s a brother for?” I forced a weak laugh. I slid forward, a bit, so I was just about sitting on her butt. I reached out my hands and slowly slid them under the back of her t-shirt. Up the small of her back, I swept my hands along the muscle lines with long, slow strokes. I could feel the strap of her brassiere against her bare back. My breath quickened, and I could almost taste her skin under my fingers.

“Mmmm … that’s good,” she said. I continued massaging her back, with longer, deeper strokes. I leaned far forward, so that I was practically lying on top of her. With my massage, her shorts had ridden up, somewhat. As a result, I now felt my rock-hard cock pressing down along her butt crack, through the thin nylon of my shorts. As I lay on top of her, I could also feel the soft pressure of her warm butt between my thighs. My chest pressed against her back; my lips hovered not more than an inch from the back of her neck.

I struggled to control my breathing, keeping it slow and steady. I slipped my hands beneath her bra strap, stroking her back. Gradually, I inched my hands along until they were on either side of her chest, almost to her front. Jen shifted her weight beneath me. I swear that she deliberately pushed her ass up against my crotch for a second. Then she turned over slightly, forcing me off of her. It looked like the ride was over.

I tried to compose myself, slowing my breathing. She got up, and went off to her room. I waited for a minute and pretended to watch television, but the main attraction was gone.

I was so horny, now, but it was late. I could feel the pressure like a ten-pound weight in my groin as I prepared for bed. I pulled off my shirt and slid my hand into the nylon shorts. Maybe I could sneak over to her room and watch her for a minute. God, I felt perverted.

I heard a knock on the door that interrupted my prurient thoughts. I opened the door to find my sister standing there in her pale blue flannel nightgown with the lace collar. She looked so little and helpless. “Could I get a favor?” Jen asked. “My back is still sore — I thought that it might help if you cracked it for me?”

I knew what she was referring to. If one physically lifted her off the floor from her shoulders, the bones in her back would pop, much as one cracking one’s knuckles. It relieved the pressure of fluid in the joints. It was also a prime opportunity to hug her from behind. Was she doing this deliberately?

“I’m don’t know …” I said ” … but I’ll give it a shot.” Jen folded her arms under her breasts, and turned her back to me. I came up behind her, into the hall. I put my arms underneath hers, so as to lift under her shoulders. I pulled her sharply back against me, and upward. I didn’t hear the popping of her spine.

“That didn’t do it,” she said. “You need to pull UP, more.” She hopped a little, so that her nightgown slid between us. I could feel her ass pressing into my cock. I was still wearing the nylon shorts, which slid nicely over the flannel of her gown. I pulled up, again, pulling back sharply, again. That should have done it. Jen turned around and gestured with her hands. “You need to put your arms underneath mine, like this, and pull UP.” she whispered softly. She gazed up into my eyes in an almost worshipful stare. “I can’t get good enough leverage.” I said quietly. “Your legs are too high off the ground … but-”

I guided her, by the shoulders, so that she was now facing an interior side of the walk-in linen closet, which was right next to my room. “This should give me enough leverage.” I said.

I folded her arms up in front of her, and cradled them with my own. I pushed her against the side of the closet as I pulled up, again. I could feel the fluid starting to pop from the bones in her back–but simultaneously, I realized that I had my little sister Jen basically slammed up against the wall and was pushing my crotch up and into the flesh of her ass. My naked chest was pressed against the back of her flannel gown. I was leaning back, slightly. Basically, I was supporting her–not Bostancı Escort by the shoulders–but by my crotch: directly under her round, firm, young ass. I lost my concentration, and she slipped down a bit. Her nightgown rode up on her hips. For a full second, I just held her there, pressed against the wall, her full weight pressing her ass against my crotch.

She didn’t say anything. I thrust my crotch–deliberately this time–against her ass. Wedged against the wall, she spread her legs, slightly, and bent her calves back so that they pressed against the sides of my upper thighs. I kept silent. My dick was throbbing and the twitching head was peeking just beyond the band of my shorts. I leaned forward so that I was carrying her weight under her arms again. I swung her around so that she was in front of the hamper, then I lowered her down over the hamper.

I murmured, clumsily. “Let’s–umm–try it like this…ought to do it…” Pretty much any pretense I might have had was gone, at this point.

I thought I heard what sound like a car, outside—maybe not.

” … I don’t know … ” she said. ” … what …”

“What did you say?” I replied.

“Uh, nothing…” she said.

She was grasping my hips behind her, with her knees. She let her head fall down, so that she was lying like a doll over the top of the hamper. Her gown had ridden up to mid-thigh. Still pressed against her ass, I bent down. She grasped the base of the hamper with her fingertips. Her hips supported her weight on top of the hamper. Her lower body, her hips and ass were thrust into the air, but her nightgown kept her legs from spreading any further.

Leaning on the hamper, I squatted and yanked my shorts down to my ankles. I didn’t know how far she’d go with this. I lay over her, pressing my chest against her back, my groin against her butt. I was sure, now, that she wasn’t wearing anything under the flannel nightgown. The nightgown was spread like a tent across her thighs, keeping my hips from slipping between. I put my hands at her hips, and slowly slid her gown up, until it was gathered around her waist. If she couldn’t tell I was naked before, she could tell, now. The cleft of her bare buttocks now cradled my own exposed penis.

“Hey…” she murmured through her hair which hung over her face.

“What?” I said.

“Oh…” she considered. “Oh.”

I put my palms on the backs of her legs, and spread her knees. I slid my hips forward, between her silken thighs, up against her ass. Her legs curled up behind her and she spread her thighs wider around my hips. I reached down and encircled the base of my penis with my fist. Gently, I stroked my penis up and down– first along her butt crack, then down along her fleshy pussy lips. The insides of her pussy lips were wet, and hot. I leaned forward, and felt her naked ass pressing against my belly, and the tip of my penis just barely separated her pussy lips. I held it there, frozen. Her ass flexed, and I heard her moan, slightly.

“What?” I said.

She didn’t respond.

Without a word, I slowly slid the crown of my penis into her pussy lips. In the back of my mind, I knew this was so wrong–but it felt so good. The skin of my dick was stretched taut, my dick so hard that it hurt. I could go just a little further. I slipped my dick in a just little further. I wasn’t actually fucking her, yet. I slid just the head of my penis past her vulva, into her vagina.

I paused for a second. Gently and slowly, I slid the head of my penis up and down just barely inside her vagina. This was little more than mutual masturbation, really. But I felt a powerful urge and my hips trembled. I could feel her lips squeezing around my dick, wet and hot.

I was shaking. I knew I should stop…in just a second … I just wanted to … I very gently pushed the head of my penis–just a little deeper, not all the way in. But my penis slipped in. I paused for a moment, my pulsing penis sheathed inside of her warm, wet vagina. I held my hips steady. No harm as long as I didn’t actually cum inside of her. Now, just lightly stroking– in, and out. She said nothing, but I could feel the resistance as her pussy gripped my dick like a bench vise. Slipping past the wetness, I pulled out almost all the way, then very slowly pushed back in.

I bent my Erenköy Escort head and looked down at myself. I could see Jen’s baby blue flannel gown, gathered at her waist, and my hips thrusting at her crotch, beneath the small globes of her ass. Who was I kidding? I was fucking her. My little sister Jen. Her smooth inner thighs were gripping my hips almost as tightly as her pussy. I felt her pussy spasm for a second, tightening. “Uhhhh … ” Jen moaned.

I thought I heard footsteps, downstairs. I froze for a second, and then continued.

I thrust my dick into her, pushing hard. I could feel my dick opening her up, expanding her vaginal walls. I continued to thrust my dick inward. I could feel the wet, slimy friction against the head and sides of my dick. Jen’s pussy. I could feel her getting even wetter and very slippery, now. I starting thrusting quickly, and the suction of her vagina made a loud, rhythmic squelching noise as her pussy lips distended, sucking at the base of my pumping penis.

“Do it.” Jen whispered hesitantly. She was barely audible.

I thrust into her. I could feel her vagina spasming around my penis and she thrust her ass against my crotch with total abandon.

“Fuck.” She grunted.

My groin pushed into the meat of her ass as I thrust my cock into it. Her pussy lips began slapping loudly around the base of my cock like a bear lapping up water. I was bent over her, now, wildly thrusting my hips into her fleshy behind. I felt as exposed as she undoubtedly already felt. Her gown had slipped further forward down her chest, and I slipped my hands underneath it. I reached down until my palms were cupping her soft breasts and nipples. I put my knees on top the hamper, and pulled myself forward so that my thighs straddled her ass. I was thrusting so deep that I felt my balls stretch against her pussy lips.

“God.” I muttered. I shouldn’t come inside of her. I needed to slow down.

“Oh god…” Jen said.

I exhaled sharply–a grunt, really–as I pushed deeply into her flesh. I pushed my dick as deeply as it could go. Her sheath spasmed around my penis again. I could feel the warm jets of cum beginning to pump through my dick inside of her warm, fleshy behind. I tried to hold it back. Her thighs flexed rhythmically and her hips bucked as we kept up the insanely fast rhythm. My dick was still deep inside her, moving with her thrusts, feeling her vaginal muscles milking it rhythmically. I’ve got to pull out…

“godohgodohgod.” Jen’s eyes were squeezed shut in concentration. I could see her face was a bright shade of pink and drops of sweat glistened through the strands of hair that partly obscured her face. Her thighs tightened underneath me, as if attempting to force my dick deeper into her. The head of my penis was already deep inside of her, bashing against her cervix. Her palms tightly grasped my ass, holding my hips tightly against her ass. Her ankles were crossed behind me, her thighs locking my hips into place.

“FUCK YEAH!” Jen screamed.

Her hips bucked, and jerked as her vagina pulsed around my dick. I couldn’t hold back. My vision blurred, and my head was spinning. The cum erupted from my dick and exploded deep inside of Jen like my whole life was emptying into her. My gut tightened involuntarily.

“Shiiiiiiit …” The strangled moan forced itself through my throat as I squeezed my eyes shut tight.

My dick felt huge inside of Jen. Her vagina squeezed hard around my dick for an eternity before I could feel it finally start to relax the vice grip on my dick. Jen lied still, breathing hard. I hung facedown, lying over her. My dick still felt enormous, although no longer painfully hard. I shifted my weight back over onto my knees, pulling her with me.

Suddenly, the hamper lid gave, as it collapsed under my weight. I laughed, nervously, as I pulled myself up. I practically pulled her up with me, as my penis was still lodged deep inside of her pussy, still hard. But I pulled from her. After a few seconds, my penis finally softened enough to come out with a soft, squishy, pop. The head of my dick left a trail of sticky semen dribbling down Jen’s thigh, like the last bit of lotion from a squeeze bottle.

“Mom and Dad! ” She abruptly whispered, in alarm.

I looked behind me. The hall light was on. I yanked up my shorts, hastily. I could hear Mom and Dad arguing loudly in the hall.

“I don’t KNOW–what did you EXPECT?”

“WELL…I figured at least Michael was RESPONSIBLE…”

I quickly padded past them, to my room. Behind me, Jen hastily ran back to her own room.

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