Chapter 5
Now my son John Junior is a nice lad. Big and gawky, like all fifteen-year-olds, troubled with a little acne and not knowing where the hell he's going in life, but a nice kid all the same. He's always behaved himself pretty well and he minds his mother. If he's screwed a woman or puffed pot, you couldn't prove it by me.
So it was natural that he about jumped out of his skin when his sister-that big blond flying bomb three years older than he-grabs him by the crotch. I'm an Old hand, you can bet, and you remember how I was when she went for me.
He pretended to keep on eating, but he kept dropping his fork. Cherry also went through the motions, but that left hand was getting all the real action. John looked pleadingly at me and I thought he was going to ask me to tell Cherry to lay off. But, like she said, he was a hot kid and he didn't really want to beat off a beautiful woman.
I was amazed, of course, because I knew damned well that this was the first time there had been any funny business between them. Until that day Cherry hadn't known her punk bid brother existed and, as for John, the only time he ever looked at Cherry was when he had murder in his eye.
So everybody was in for a bunch of surprises. Cherry hadn't planned to be so hot. John certainly hadn't dreamed he would have gotten a real servicing this time, instead of his fist. And I never expected to be a one-man audience when my kids discovered each other. What the hell, puppies screw around all the time and everybody thinks that's cute. Why not human beings? Who would be hurt? And there wouldn't be any clap going around because I know my kids are clean.
I know, I sound like I'm trying to justify my allowing that sort of shit to go on under my nose, and maybe I am. But I was pretty hot myself, as you'll see, and I didn't know how to turn myself off.
At last John couldn't take it any longer and he shot to his feet and backed across the room. His fly was open and I caught a glimpse of his Superman shorts through the crack, but that was all. His pouch was distended, though, and I wondered if he'd already gone off and wanted to clean up now.
"Big baby," Cherry teased as she twisted in her chair. Christ, what a body that woman had grown without me noticing! When she turned that way her knockers really came out into the T-shirt. "Afraid he'll get hurt."
"Shut up," John shot back. "Just keep your hands to yourself, that's all. Dad, make her stay away."
I coughed into my hand. Christ, what was I going to tell them? She wanted it, I wanted to see her get it, John also wanted it-but he didn't know it
"It's between you and your sister," I blurted at last feeling like a coward. "You're bigger than she is. If you want her to keep away, you can jolly well just keep running."
He puffed out his cheeks and his hand shot into his pocket. He was ramming his cock and balls back down where they belonged, but Cherry and I knew he couldn't stop his boiling seed. His virile kid's body wanted seduction, now.
"Look, baby," she snapped, annoyance crossing her face, "a kid your age is at his peak. Ask Dad, even though I'd have to admit he's an exception. Teen-age boys are already heading over the hill when they approach twenty. Isn't that right, Daddy?"
I nodded. "So the medical books say. I thought it was true in my case, but we Whites are a hardy lot. I'm just about as good as I ever was."
"Amen," Cherry breathed and I shot a hasty warning glance at her.
"I'm beating it" John rasped, backing toward the door.
"Sure, you've been beating it every afternoon for six months, ever since you found out it was more than something to piss out of." I stared at my daughter. Christ she must have been dating guys from the naval station. That language! "You'll grow up to be a pervert if you keep on. John boy, you ought to be giving some nice girl the benefit of your sperm, not flushing it down the toilet that way. It's positively criminal."
John was gulping like a cod on the end of a hook. "But you're my sister. Boy, that's what I call sick."
Cherry held up her hand. "Just hold it a minute, sonny." She frowned and gnawed her lower hp, her -hands on her hips, breasts thrust forward. God, John would be a queer if he turned that down, sister or not. At least he'd stopped retreating. "Suppose I don't lay a hand on you, okay?" John cocked his head and suspicion filled his eyes. "That's right. You're better off getting your gun from normal female stimulation, instead of beating yourself to death, flogging over the bathroom sink. I'll drain you, dear brother, and I promise not to touch you. Not unless you tell me to. Now isn't that fair?" John was shaking his head. "You're plain crazy, sis." "I'm thinking of your welfare, that's what I'm doing. Dad would like it that way, too. He doesn't want you to lose your cherry unless you want to. Incidentally, you Tarzan, me Cherry, right?"
"Well..." John turned toward me. "I wouldn't trust her, Dad. You remember how she screwed me out of that chocolate cake at dinner last week."
I shrugged. "Okay, if you don't believe her, tell her do. If you're curious to find out how she's going to do it without touching you-and I confess I am-then stick around. You're free to head for the bathroom whenever you want. But as your sister says, you can't retreat from life to the bathroom forever." I was being phony because the kid was really too young to be fucking, although I confess I was already at it when I his age, and not with my sister, either. Damn it, I wanted to see John boy get bred.
"Good shot, Dad," Cherry exclaimed. "All right, sonny, are you a man or aren't you?"
John again was frowning and he spoke carefully. "How you going to make me if you don't touch me? And no fair using a trick, like gloves or something."
Cherry held up her hands to show they were empty. "No tricks. I won't touch you with a thing."
He backed against the drainboard, that same board where there had been so much action already that day. "I guess I can let you try ... but it sounds like something stupid. I ought to head out to the movies with Andy."
Cherry knew she had him hooked, so she was brave enough to reply, "Okay, if you'd rather mess around with Andy ..."
"No," John blurted and he cleared his throat to cover his anxiety. "I guess I got to give you a chance to prove you're not a liar."
Cherry winked at me. "Ah, my noble kid brother. All right, here we go. No touching but hold on to your hat, kid, or Til blow it off."
He flattened his butt against the edge of the counter and held on with both hands as Cherry planned herself in front of him. She stood very close, breathing in his face, her breasts lifting and falling like the tides.
"No touching!" John yelped and I discovered I'd almost yelled the same thing. I was still sitting at the table, my half-empty plate in front of me, and I had a bone-on like you wouldn't believe.
Cherry merely shook her golden head slowly. She didn't say a thing and I got the idea. She was going to coax the come out of him by practically hypnotizing the kid. Well, it would be something to see. She remained before him, hands still on her hips and her knockers out front like headlights on a hotrod. She gave a little wiggle to her shoulders and they bobbed like a pair of heavy corks. John boy gasped and Cherry couldn't help giggling. She was hot, too, but she was also having a hell of a good time.
Slowly, she eased her hands under her breasts, palms up, and she lifted them up to him, holding them just under his chin "Come on, John, take a bite."
He gasped again and I could see his cock straining like a stallion locked in a too-small stall. I figured he'd come all over his pants in a couple of minutes. As the doctors say, he was never going to be any more potent than he was at that minute.
He was staring popeyed at Cherry's breasts and she kept on offering them, right under his nose. He was shaking his head. "I'm not gonna come for you, pig sister."
"Like hell," Cherry laughed. "You said you wouldn't touch." "So who's touching?"
She took her hands away from her breasts and they dropped back into their normal position with a jiggle. I was getting plenty hot now and if the boy wasn't going to finish the job, I sure as hell was. After all, John had interrupted us, just as I'd interrupted Cherry with her pimply boy friend.
She extended her hands to his face, stopping just before she touched his cheeks. Then she was bringing them down, as though stroking his cheeks and jaw, around down over his throat, not quite touching. She around his shoulders and chest and then she went to lis waist. She made her hands into claws and made as though to grasp his crotch. John gasped and his face became like a beet.
But Cherry wasn't breaking any rules. She hadn't touched him yet. Not a hair on him.
She leaned down and ran her hands along the insides of his thighs, for his feet were planted apart. Still stooped, she peered up. "You're a tough kid."
He was wheezing and I thought I could see a small dark stain on his crotch, right in front of where his snake was straining mightily to uncoil itself. But he hadn't come yet. He was only getting ready, lubricating himself. But it wouldn't take much more.
Cherry straightened and then she began a little dance in front of him. She whirled in small circles, her arms over her head, her breasts riding high. I could see glimpses of her shaved armpits up the short sleeves of the T-shirt and even this was exciting to me. God, if I was this hot and bothered young John had to have a will of iron.
The jeans were fighting a losing game, for they'd barely clung to her hips in the first place. Now hey were riding even lower as she stretched and tin ted. Soon her T-shirt was out all around and we could see her belly, complete with navel, well above the sagging belt of her pants.
John gasped. "Oh, wow."
"Oh, wow," Cherry mimicked. "That's kid talk. You're still a little boy, junior."
A hip and the top half of a buttock was oozing out of the jeans before Cherry stopped. She was puffing and I would be willing to bet it wasn't just from the dancing. She was working herself up to an orgasm of her own and, God knew, she'd been denied enough that afternoon. She'd never get enough.
That plump ass was a beauty. All white and smooth. Not a mark on her. She puffed and looked down at herself before she looked into John's face.
"Nice fanny, huh, brother? Wouldn't you like to dig your pinkies into it? Come on, it's free."
John gulped. "No touching," he was able to croak.
"No touching," she mimicked again in a falsetto voice.
She hiked up her jeans, saw her flapping T-shirt and so she crossed her hands at the hem and grasped it. She lifted it over her head in an abrupt movement and tossed it away. There was nothing inside there except candy and it was a glorious view. How I loved the sight of her knockers, full, high, pink on the tips and shining just slightly because she was starting to sweat. Excuse me, perspire. Guys sweat.
She had a wonderful waist and belly, too. Thin with the hips starting to flare before the jeans cut off the view. She had a little gut on her, just enough to be exciting and make her bellybutton stick out and drive me out of my senses. John was licking his lips and straining to swallow. He couldn't. His throat was too dry.
"Aren't I gorgeous?" she wanted to know.
"Sensational," I exclaimed.
"No. John boy, you tell me."
"Up yours, sis."
"Help yourself."
"No touching."
She sighed and shrugged her shoulders at me. The resulting jiggle was indeed sensational. Then she planted herself before him again, hands on her hips. She shot her shoulders at him, alternately, so that her boobs did a dance of their own. The tips jumped like fireflies giving each other the hotfoot, and I wanted to bite them off.
John was wagging his head and I could tell he was debating whether to flee. "Be a man, son," I shouted. "If you run now you'll be afraid of women all your life." Bullshit, but it sounded psychological as hell.
He stuck to his guns and then I saw that the kid was near. Shit. Cherry was going to make him without climbing out of her jeans and I'd hoped to see a naked nymph in my kitchen. He was gasping more than ever and the stain at his crotch was spreading.
"You're going off!" she cried as she pointed an accusing finger at his pouch.
"Like hell!" he shouted back, but he was lying.
Cherry retreated as he grabbed at his fly and yanked the zipper open. Then he was turning around and lifting his cock over the edge of the sink. The little bastard was hung, I'll say that for him. Cherry was gaping, too. His tool was long and thick and the knob on the end looked like it should have been usee to open doors. He had it all. Size, length, configuration. If only he'd use it well through life. Yes, he could serve the world's women with that.
He had his fingers wrapped around it and he was hanging on. Not pumping, just hanging on as though he were choking back the jizz as long as he could. I could understand that. A guy likes to delay the explosion so he can enjoy it more. As in planning a vacation, anticipation is almost as much fun as being there.
But John was about to leave on his journey. Cherry was all over him, leaning around to pull his hands away from the panting penis and grasping it herself.
She gave it a few strong jerks, not more than three or four, and he began writing with white ink.
John was squirting clear across the sink and splattering it just below the hot-water faucet. It was running down the side in a heavy, sluggish stream, like lava draining toward the ocean. I almost expected it to hiss when it ran into the puddle of water in the sink.
Cherry watched with due respect as her kid brother convulsed again and again, his body half-bent, his shoulders hunched forward. He was like a man carrying something too heavy for his body.
The cock swelled and shot time after time, undulating like a screwing seal I'd once seen up at the zoo. The stream looked like it would never end but at last it was reduced to a streak that dripped straight down into the sink from the end of his dick.
I fell back in my chair as though I'd also gone off. But I hadn't I was ready to, however, and I knew that I had to have more before this day was at an end.
I gazed at Cherry and the clinging jeans. They had to go-and soon.