Date: Mon, 07 Nov 2016 15:53:11 -0800
From: Ricky Lester <rl581212@fastmail.com>
Subject: Family Discoveries #6

Disclaimer: This story is entirely fictional, a product of
imagination and fantasy.  It should only be read by adults where it is
legal to do so. It contains graphic descriptions of sex involving
underage siblings, but be aware that such events should
only ever take place in the imagination.
All rights reserved by the author.

Family Discoveries, part 6
by Ricky Lester
bg Fg inc

Mandy takes up the story:

I would never forget that Saturday morning for the rest of my life.

My first fuck had been with my little brother, and I loved him for it. I
wasn't sorry. We were just finding out about sex and it was so exciting
for both of us. I knew a bit more about the theory than he did, but he
was so curious about everything. My pussy tingled when I thought of how
his cock had penetrated me and how many times I had come. And my little
breasts and especially the nipples were so, so sensitive: just lightly
brushing my fingers over them made me want to cum all over again.

Jimmy and I didn't `do' anything together for the rest of the weekend.
Mom and Dad were talking about going away to a campsite by the sea for
the summer holidays, which were still a few weeks away. We had a
`normal' weekend otherwise; I helped Mom in the garden, where she grew
herbs and stuff in a tiny little greenhouse (I could only just stand up
in it, and Mom had to sit on a very low stool to tend to the boxes);
Jimmy and Dad washed the car, and then watched football on TV, and Mom
and I went grocery shopping. In other words, a very normal, ordinary
weekend.

That Sunday evening after we had gone to bed, and Mom and Dad were
watching TV in the den, I was sitting in bed, brushing my hair. It was
too long really, but I liked the way it could cover my tiny breasts and
I could pretend I was a sexy movie star. So I took good care of my hair.

Someone knocked softly at my bedroom door. I knew it was Jimmy; Mom or
Dad would never be so subtle. They'd knock and come straight in.

`Come in, Jimmy,' I called, softly.

Jimmy peered around the door. `I just wanted to say, you know, goodnight
and stuff. Can I give you a quick hug? I don't want sex or anything like
that.'

`Of course you can hug me. Come here.'

He closed the door quietly and sat on the edge of my bed. He was wearing
a T-shirt and shorts. I was sitting in bed with the covers up to my
waist and I was wearing a sexy baby-doll nightie that my auntie had
bought me for my birthday. It was lacy and almost sheer and you could
see my nipples through it. But I had never let anyone see me wearing it
before.

Until now. Jimmy looked at me.

`Oh, wow, Mandy, you look so beautiful. Your hair is all shiny. And that
thing you're wearing -- I can see your titties! You look so...'

`Sexy?'

`Yes, sexy. Like a sexy porn star.'

I didn't think that I really wanted to be compared to a porn star, but I
realized Jimmy thought it was a real compliment. I held out my arms and
Jimmy bounded onto the bed.

We kissed, first just on the lips, and then more deeply. Jimmy's hand
found my right breast and, oh how gentle he was! --- he rolled my nipple
between his fingers. As our tongues rolled together I felt myself
getting light-headed. My right hand slipped inside my little brother's
shorts and I fondled his rock-hard little penis. I could feel his balls
squirming in my hand and so I masturbated his little cock, up and down.
It didn't take long. Jimmy's body stiffened and shuddered and suddenly
his cock spasmed over and over in my hand. He was coming, coming
uncontrollably in my hand. I so looked forward to the day when he could
spurt out real sperm. I so wanted to feel its heat and to taste it.

My little brother was so incredibly horny, and I loved him so much for
it. I patted his bottom and sent him off to bed with a loving kiss.
After he had gone I stroked the nipple he had fondled, and my other hand
slipped between my legs. I drew my middle finger up and down over the
outside of my slit, savouring the increasing wetness that oozed from my
pussy lips.
The pad of my finger slipped into the sticky, slimy channel and stroked
up and down over my clit, nestling in its hood. Oh God, it felt so good.
My other hand left my breast and snaked down as well, the index and
middle fingers eventually finding their way up inside my vagina. Now I
was fucking myself with one hand and masturbating my clit with the
other. Faster and faster I frigged away until suddenly the blood roared
in my ears, my back arched, my bottom lifted clean off the bed and my
pussy simply exploded in pleasure. I could not stop the tide of orgasm
that burst over me. I opened my mouth and gasped out loud.

I never heard the footsteps or the knock at my door. I was in mid-cum,
fingers flying at my pussy and no doubt groaning out my pleasure using
lots of words that began with F and C.

I half realized Mom was standing by the bed but I was so overcome
(pardon the pun) that I didn't open my eyes until the feeling subsided a
bit. Mom sat down on the end of my bed with a sad little smile on her
face.

`Oh, Mandy, darling, I thought you were in pain, so I came into your
room. I didn't know what you were doing, but now I do. I hope you don't
mind that I watched you. I remember how it was when I was your age,
finding out all the exciting things my body could do.'

I didn't want to disappoint Mom. She thought I was so innocent and she
probably thought this was the first time I had ever cum.

`Oh, Mom! I was feeling a bit itchy on my wee-wee and I wanted to rub
it, and suddenly... suddenly this whole crash of good feelings came over
me! Do all girls have that?'

`Yes, honey, they do. And I could see that you were really enjoying
yourself.' The covers had slipped down and I realised my mom could see
my pussy and the wetness that had escaped from it. `Let's get you
cleaned and warmed up, OK?'

I nodded, and Mom reached over for a towel and gently dried my pussy,
softly and tenderly. She kissed my pussy on the lips, just as though she
was kissing me on the cheek.

`Oh, you're going to have so much fun with your little kitten, aren't
you? I'm so glad you've worked out how to make yourself cum. Maybe I can
teach you a thing or two someday! But not now, it's sleepy time!'

She soaked up the wet patch underneath me and picked up my red-and-blue
Supergirl panties off the floor where I'd discarded them.

`Let's slip these on, shall we? Then you won't feel so wet anymore.'
Like a baby I held my feet out for her to pull on my panties. She pulled
them over my knees, then I lifted my bottom off the bed (again!) and she
pulled them up. She pulled the covers up over me and tucked me in.

`Good night, honey. It's fun growing up, but don't do it too fast, OK?'
Mom kissed me on the cheek and I was asleep almost instantly, but not
before I'd figured out what she was saying: that she'd like to teach me
about masturbating? I'd love that...

--

Monday was double history class after lunch. I always dreaded it. It
wasn't that I didn't like history: I did, and still do, but oh my
goodness Mr Wilson was so, so boring. He droned on, and on, and on in a
flat monotonic voice. He was about ninety years old and everyone called
him Harold, but I had no idea until I learned that there had been a
Prime Minister of Great Britain in the sixties called Harold Wilson.

Although I thought about sex most of the time now, it was worse in
history class. It wasn't that there was anyone I fancied (although there
was a girl called Alice whom I liked a lot who took the class with me,
and we were good friends), but because Mr Wilson's voice could send
anyone to sleep I used to stay awake by imagining what everyone in the
class (including Mr Wilson!) would look like with no clothes on. I
figured Mr Wilson had a dried-up old, floppy cock. There was a boy
called Brian, tall and skinny and shy, and I bet myself he had a huge
one. As for Alice, I would love to have seen her naked: she had a
beautiful pair of breasts (I saw her get undressed in Phys Ed class
once, and her bra slipped down) and I often thought of her when I
masturbated.

Mmm, masturbating in history. Girls can do it in class, you know. You
need to be able to keep a straight face, but it is possible. The trick
is to sit behind someone who hangs their coat over the back of their
chair, and move your desk right up behind them. Then you slip your arms
out of your own coat but keep it on over your shoulders. That way, you
can slip your hand into your knickers without anyone seeing, as long as
you don't frot too obviously. I think I'm very good at being able to
come while looking for all the world as though I'm concentrating hard on
what Mr Wilson says. In fact I'm concentrating hard on what Brian's cock
might look like, or what Alice's nipples might taste like under my
tongue...

I managed to cum twice during the hour and forty minutes of Mr Wilson's
double history period that day. But he'd set us a lot of homework and I
figured I'd go to the library after classes ended.

I usually liked to escape to the library after class. It was open late --
until six PM, because the staff room was part of the library and many of
the teachers did their marking there after class.

Mrs Winters was the librarian. She was quite an old lady, not quite as
old as my gran, but older than my mom, and she had grey hair tied up in
a bun on top of her head. She wore dull-coloured clothes: greys and
browns and beiges, with the occasional maroon or dark blue sweater. She
was quite fat, with big hips and large breasts, but she had nice, clear
skin for an old person, and she was kind and sweet to me. I suppose she
liked me because not many students liked to do their homework in the
library, and we had often chatted about this or that.

But nothing prepared me for what happened in the library that day. I can
remember every lurid detail...

--

The library is deserted; besides me, only Mrs Winters is there, in her
office. I'm sitting at the assistant librarian's desk, as I usually do.
There's a typewriter, one of those electric golf-ball IBM ones; a
shorthand notebook and a tiny Dictaphone, the kind that records onto a
mini tape cassette. But none of these things really interest me; I'm
reading a long chapter in a senior history textbook about the French
Revolution, describing the conflict between the monarchy and the people.
It's really the picture I'm looking at; the chapter is illustrated by a
reproduction of Eugene Delacroix's famous painting of "Liberty Leading
the People", in which a bare-breasted woman holding aloft the French
flag urges her comrades on to victory, leading them over a pile of
corpses and battle casualties. It's a brilliant picture and is supposed
to symbolise all that is great about revolution and national pride and
that kind of thing, but all I can think about is how beautiful and how
sexy she is. Both the men on the left side of the picture seem to be
staring at her breasts as well, and I wish I could be in the picture
too, to be able to touch them, feel them, suckle on them...

`Mandy? Are you all right, dear?'

I look up. Mrs Winters is standing next to me.

`You've been rubbing your, er, chest, Mandy. And pinching your nipples.
For about half an hour now. I couldn't help noticing. What are you
looking at?'

Oh god. I've been unconsciously playing with myself while thinking about
Liberty's breasts. And Mrs Winters has been watching me!

`Oh, Mrs Winters, I, er, I had an itch, I think...'

`Let me see.' She looks over my shoulder at the book I'm reading. `Oh.
That's Marianne. She's a symbol of France, you know. There are statues
of her all over France. She represents freedom, liberty, equality and
all that sort of thing. A bit like Britannia does for the UK, or the
Bald Eagle does for the USA. But the thing about Marianne is, she is
very often represented as a beautiful young girl with bare breasts like
that. I think she's very beautiful, don't you?'

And Mrs Winters puts her hand on my shoulder and squeezes a little.

`Is that why you were rubbing your breasts? Because you like the look of
hers?'

I can only nod.

`I thought that might be the case, dear. Don't worry, I won't tell
anyone. It's all right, it's completely all right for you to like to
look at women's breasts and to get a little excited by them.'

Her voice drops to a whisper.

`I do too. I love looking at girls' breasts too. And their pussies. It
makes me a little, you know, excited... down below? Do you understand?'

I look up at her. Make my eyes wide.

`Yes, Mrs Winters. I do. It makes me excited too. My pussy gets wet all
by itself!'

But inside I'm suddenly thinking, I've got you, Mrs Winters. I know what
you want. You want to have sex with me, and I bet you've had sex with
lots of schoolgirls in your time.

I decide to play along with her. Who knows what might happen? I just am
determined not to be just the next little girl in a long line of
conquests. If my long hours reading about sex in the library have taught
me anything, it's that I'm not going to be a victim here. I want to have
sex, lots of it, but nobody is going to force me. Ever.

Something about Mrs Winters interests me anyway. I don't know what it
is. She's old, fat and unattractive, and she wears the most dreadful
clothes. But something, something about her...

Mrs Winters says, `Would you like to look at my breasts?'

I nod, still wide-eyed and all innocent.

`Come into the office then, and let's close the door. We wouldn't want
anyone to catch us, would we?' She comes over all cute (she probably
thinks I actually fancy her), cocks her index finger at me and shuffles
off to her office, her bottom jiggling up and down.

I think about it for no more than a couple of seconds, make a conscious
decision, get up from the desk and follow her through to the librarian's
office. I watch Mrs Winters put the `CLOSED' sign up, close the blinds
over the glass panel on the door and lock it.

`Sit down here, my dear.' There are two office chairs and a desk in the
middle of the room, and a large cupboard on the side wall.
I sit down and Mrs Winters sits on the edge of the desk.

`Oh, yes, I get so, so excited looking at those sexy pictures. But
nothing beats looking at the real thing. Let's get a little comfortable,
shall we?' She pulls her dull, ugly olive green top over her head.
Underneath  - totally unexpectedly - she's wearing a gorgeous black,
lacy bra. It's a beautiful garment. Her large -- very large -- soft,
snow-white breasts spill over the top.

Fucking hell. This old, fat, ugly teacher is SEXY.

`Put your hands here, my dear. Feel how soft they are.'

They are certainly soft. Despite myself and despite knowing exactly what
Mrs Winters is doing, I felt the familiar wetness ooze between my legs.
This is turning me on powerfully. I slip a thumb down the front of her
bra cup and encounter a long, rubbery nipple.

Mrs Winters gasps.

`Oh, my goodness, Mandy! You really know how to touch a woman in her
special places! Let me make it easier for you!' She reaches behind her
back and unfastens her bra.

Oh, she has beautiful breasts, the largest pair I have ever seen. The
skin is pure white, not a blemish at all. Her nipples are a deep, dark
brown, and long! -- at least half an inch long, and sticking out, herd,
erect, each like a little penis.

`Go on, feel these. You can suck on my boobies if you like, my lovely.'
Her legs open in front of me as she bends over to give my mouth access
to those huge tits. I can see right up her skirt, all the way up, past
her black stocking tops, a few inches of snow-white inner thigh to a
pair of black panties. I focus on the teat in front of me and suck it
into my mouth. The nipple is almost as big as Jimmy's little cock! But
it is nowhere near as hard; it bends under my lips, the texture that of
a grape, perhaps, or a cherry.

Cherry indeed. I suspect I am about to lose the lesbian version of my
own cherry.

Oh, well, in for a penny. I suck Mrs Winters' right nipple into my
mouth. I rub its tip with my tongue, around and around, and put hard
suction all around the areola. I feel for her other breast and palm its
nipple in my left hand, rolling and twisting the nub between my fingers,
pinching dangerously hard.

I can feel Mrs Winters' hand between my thighs, groping and scrabbling
for my underwear. I keep my thighs together for a bit, but as her breath
becomes more ragged I open them and I feel her fingers reach my panties.

`Oh, Lord, Mandy, that's so, so nice! Oh, suck on my titty, darling
little Mandy. Ah, oh, ah! Suck hard. Harder, go on, don't be afraid, you
won't hurt me! And even if you do a bit, I don't mind!'

Her fingers trail the front of my pussy, through my panties. Her nails
are not long, but long enough for me to feel the edges as they search
for my slit. She finds it easily enough and rakes her fingernail, firmly
but gently, along the length of my slit. I can feel the arousal building
in me and I let go of the breast in my hand and push my wrist between
the massive thighs.

`Ooooh, darling Mandy, you're so wet, my dear! Soaking! Shall I help you
off with these? I must have nodded assent because her fingers curl
around the fabric of my white panties and smoothly pull them down in a
single movement, past my knees and over my shoes. She bundles them into
a ball and tosses them behind her.

She wastes no time. `That's better, my dear, it's so much easier without
underwear, isn't it? Now why don't you help me off with mine?'

She opens those thighs and I reach up and grasp the fabric of her
panties. They are underclothes to die for; the French knicker type,
silky soft shorts really, offering easy access. She lifts her
substantial behind off the desk and I pull her panties down.

Immediately my senses are engulfed by a musky smell of sweat and sex,
pungent but not at all unpleasant, and I reach back for her pussy. It is
covered in a dense forest of greying pubic hair. Well, her cunt must be
in there somewhere, I think to myself, and I poke my fingers around, a
bit hesitantly. The only cunt I've ever played with is my own, and the
difference between hers and mine is like a grape compared with a
watermelon.

`Oh, darling, let me help you. Let's make it easier for you.' She stands
up and shuffles off her skirt. Now she is standing in front of me
wearing nothing but her black hold-up stockings and sensible shoes. She
sits back a bit on the desk and raises one leg.

`Look, my dear. Get in here and have a close look.' She parts her cunt
lips with her fingers. I can see the entrance to her cavernous vagina,
and the thumb-sized clit easing its way out of its hood at the top.
Well, the size of a small thumb, I suppose. Still, much, much bigger
than mine. Bigger than I hope mine will ever be.

`Give me a kiss, darling. Go on, kiss my pussy. Kiss my cunt, Mandy. Oh,
please, just give it a kiss.' Her voice has dropped again to barely more
than a whisper.

Again, I hesitate slightly. It's exciting and disgusting at the same
time. Oh, what the hell. I lean forward and kiss her massive clitoris,
and then suck it gently between my lips. It has the same rubbery texture
as her nipple. In fact it's very much like her nipple. If she ever loses
a nipple she can have her clit transplanted onto her tit, I think. I
suck on it again.

The reaction is amazing.

`Ooh, Mandy! Oh, darling girl! Oh, fuck, oh fuck, keep doing that! Keep
it up!' Mrs Winter's bottom begins gyrating on the desk. `Keep doing
that!' She grasps my hand, gripping my fingers tightly together, and
places my hand on the gaping entrance to her cunt, under my chin.
`Inside... inside... please, push your hand deep inside...'

I tentatively poke at the entrance with my index finger.

`No, use your hand, the whole hand, go on, darling, fill me up...'

What? She wants me to put my WHOLE HAND inside her CUNT?

I suck hard on her clit and bite it gently with my teeth, drawing a
fierce gasp of pain from her. She doesn't push me away, though, and I
realise she actually likes the pain, so I push my hand into her cunt and
bite a little harder on her clit. Everything, including my face by now,
is dripping wet with slick, slippery, sticky juices, matting her coarse
black and grey pubic hair everywhere.

And my hand slides easily inside, all the way, past my wrist, halfway up
to my elbow, before my fingers reach what felt like a rubber doorstopper
at the top.

Oh, wow. Is this what a grown woman's cunt is like? It is massively
bigger than my tight little pussy, which had to stretch to let even
Jimmy's little cock in. Mrs Winters was taking almost my entire forearm.

`Oh, oh, oh, Mandy, fuck me, please, fuck me with your hand...'

Well, OK, Mrs Winters. You're a fucking disgusting fat old lady, and a
pervert too, who likes sex with pre-teen girls, but what the hey. I
think I like this. In fact, I love this. I'm a twelve-year-old girl,
completely in control, physical control, of an adult woman. Oh, yes. I
love this feeling.

And despite myself, I am amazingly, disgustingly, fantastically turned
on. By the fact that I'm going to make an grown woman have an orgasm, as
I lick and bite her clitoris and fuck her pussy with my hard and arm.
And the thought of how I'm going to capitalize on this. And lastly, the
thought that Mrs Winters is going to lick the fuck out of my pussy and
clit and anus after I'm finished and I'm going to have the orgasm of my
short life in a very short while.

I push my arm in and out, in and out, all the way in, all the way out,
never letting go of her clitoris between my lips, biting down hard every
few strokes. Mrs Winters comes in buckets, her juices literally spraying
up my sleeve, up my nose, down the front of my dress, all the while
emitting a keening, high-pitched scream.

Jesus, she comes hard. Thank God the library is sound-proofed.

She lies back on the desk, panting, her legs splayed akimbo, her cunt
leaking juice. Without a word I climb on top of her, sitting on her
face, her nose pressing up against my butthole, her mouth on my cunt, my
dress covering her entire head like a scene-of-crime tent. Which it is,
technically, I suppose.

I grip her left nipple between finger and thumb and squeeze.

Hard.

She whimpers in pain.

`Lick me, you fat old bitch. Make me come. Lick my butt clean as well.'

`What? Don't talk to me like that, young lady. I may be naked but I'm
still your teacher. We're only having a bit of fun...'

`Oh, no, Mrs Winters. I'll speak to you as I please. And from now on,
you're going to do exactly as I say. Now make me come, bitch.'

And, still twisting hard on her left nipple, I reach my right hand into
my pocket, pull out the Dictaphone. Rewind a bit. And press Play. The
tinny but immediately recognizable voice of Mrs Winters comes out of the
tiny speaker.

`Oh, suck on my titty, darling little Mandy. Ah, oh, ah! Suck hard.
Harder, go on, don't be afraid, you won't hurt me!'

--

Vera Winters made me come that day. Three times, in fact. The third time
I think I pissed in her mouth. She didn't say a word, though. And she
had a very talented tongue that could roll up tight and get all the way
inside both my cunt and my bottom.

I realized I was going to enjoy the rest of that school year, and the
whole of the next, immensely.


--

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--
  Ricky Lester
  rl581212@fastmail.com