Gender: Female Age: Secret Location: N/A
|Introduction: Sean is desperate to taste her milk...her sisters milk|
Its a long story but a good one. I have divided these story into three parts
Sean pulled the rental car to the curb in front of his sister's house and parked. Pulling a small duffel bag from the back seat, he started up the walkway to the front porch.
He hadn't seen Cynthia in a little over six months, and the last time he'd seen her, she had looked as though she'd swallowed a basketball. A month later, Cyn had given birth to Lisa, his first niece.
Let's see, he thought, that would make Lisa about five months old, now!
He should have made it back to see his niece earlier, but living on the opposite coast made the trip an expensive one. And he'd used the last of that year's vacation days on his last trip home. Thankfully, the new year had brought a new batch of vacation days, and he'd managed to Sean this trip to let him kill several birds with one stone: visit with his parents, visit his sister and see his niece for the first time, and also attend his best friend's wedding. A side benefit was that he'd be able to help Cyn paint her husband's den while he was away on a business trip. She was sure that Tom would be surprised by the renovation, when he returned home.
Stepping up to the door, he rang the doorbell and heard Cynthia's voice through the screen door, inviting him to come in.
Pushing the door open, he stepped into the foyer.
"Cyn?" he called out.
"I'm here, in the living room," she responded loudly.
"Uh, okay," he said walking toward the sound of her voice.
Stepping into the living room, he stopped dead in his tracks, staring at his sister sitting on the couch. Sitting on the couch...nursing Lisa. With her blouse completely unbuttoned and both of her huge breasts bared.
Sean's eyes flared open and his chin dropped as he stared at his sister. She had Lisa's mouth pressed against one of her big, beautiful breasts as she sat lovingly looking down at her baby. Little Lisa was holding onto the huge, milk-filled udder with her tiny hands, hungrily sucking away at the nipple as Sean looked on in fascination.
Then, Cynthia looked up and saw him staring at her with a shocked look on his face.
"Oops...sorry...I forgot," she laughed, draping her shirt over her breasts, covering one and partially covering the other, from Sean's peering stare.
"Uh...uh...that's...that's okay," he said, trying to swallow the bale of cotton that had mysteriously appeared in his mouth as he tried to calm the stirring he felt down in his jeans. "I...I just wasn't expecting that. They...They're so big.
"Yeah, that's what happens when you've got a kid to feed," she smiled up at him.
"Really big," he muttered.
"I've got everything set up in the den, if you want to go ahead and start. Let me just finish nursing Lisa, and I'll be in to help you in a few minutes."
"Okay," he said, taking another quick glance at her partially exposed breast as he set his overnighter on the coffee table.
He couldn't believe how big her tits were. The only time he had seen them before was when they were kids. They were tiny, back then.
"Uh, the den," he nodded, finally tearing his eyes away from his sister's breast as he saw a slight blush color her cheeks.
"Sorry," he apologized, blushing himself as he turned and started for the den.
"That's okay," she called after him, "It's my fault, really. I should have nursed her earlier."
Sean had arrived in his painting clothes, so he had finished one wall and was starting on a second before Cynthia came strolling into the room. He looked away from his task to see that she was wearing only an old paint-splattered shirt and panties. The hem of the shirt hung down in the front and back, obscuring most of the view, but the shirt arched up in a curve on the sides, revealing the waistband of her panties where it crossed her rounded hips. The shirt was also thin enough for him to note that she wasn't wearing a bra. Even if the pendulous swing of her breasts wasn't noticeable -- which it definitely was -- her nipples, still erect from the sSeanulus of nursing, were poking blatantly against the worn fabric.
"Sorry, I took so long, but I wanted to put Lisa to bed so we wouldn't be interrupted," she told him. "You can get to know her tomorrow."
"Yeah, that'd be nice," he smiled, glancing down at the exposed cleavage peeking out from between the edges of her shirt and her thrusting breasts. "I got a lot done anyway."
"Yeah, I see. I'll help you do another wall, then I'll start on the trim," she said, ignoring his prying look as she bent down and picked up her roller and paint tray. "I've ordered a pizza delivery, for dinner."
"You sure look nice, Sis," he told her. "You look a lot different than you did the last time I saw you."
"A half-hour on the treadmill, every day," she said, feigning wiping sweat from her forehead. "It'll keep you fit and trim."
"Well, I must admit, it seems to be working," he smiled.
"Why, thank you," she laughed softly, noting the slight blush coloring her cheeks.
Watching his sister move about with her giant, milk-laden breasts undulating heavily under the shirt soon had Sean in a highly obvious state of arousal. He tried his best to keep it hidden by facing away from her while he painted.
Two hours of steady work had the walls and trim covered in new paint. The pizza arrived and they devoured it quickly. Their intended return to painting was delayed, however, when Lisa awoke from her nap and announced -- with a loud wail -- that she needed some attention.
Motioning for Sean to follow her, Cynthia led the way to the nursery. Lifting her infant daughter from the crib, she placed her in her uncle's unsure arms.
"Relax, honey," she giggled when Sean looked up at her with somewhat terrified eyes. "You can do it; it's instinctive. And it'll be good practice, for when you finally have a wife and baby of your own!"
"Oh -- you mean this look on my face?" Sean shook his head. "It isn't fear. It's more like lack of knowing what to do. I can smell it, even if you can't. I think she needs a change of diapers."
"Then we'll give you a bit more practice," Cyn laughed. "Put her over there, on the bassinette, and I'll get the baby-wipes."
With Cynthia looking on with an amused grin, Sean followed her instructions and handled the diaper-change rather well, all things considered.
Then, of course, he had to endure the sight of her partially-exposed breast, again, as Cynthia nursed Lisa before putting her back to bed for the night.
Shortly, the nursing was finished, and Cynthia buttoned the blouse again, though Sean noticed one less button was fastened than earlier, and they returned to their task of painting. An hour later, they were finally finished and stood looking around at their handiwork.
"Looks great," Cynthia beamed, looking over at him. "We make a great team..."
"Yeah, maybe we ought to set up a business," he laughed. "But first, I think you'd better clean up. You look like you've got green measles."
"Aren't you the pot, to call the kettle black," she laughed back at him, running a fingertip down his paint-splattered cheek.
Impulsively, Sean grabbed her hand and brought her finger to his lips. Holding it gently pressed against them, he gave the tip of her finger a lingering kiss.
Questioningly, she looked into his eyes, her cheeks flushing once again. Then he smiled and let go of her hand.
"Why did you do that?" she asked.
"I don't know," he smiled. "I don't know...it just seemed like the thing to do at the moment. Sorry if it upset you..."
"No, no, it's okay," she said, taking a step back as her big tits swayed ponderously under her shirt. "It just took me by surprise...that's all. It was a sweet thing to do."
"Well, who's first? You or me?" he asked, stepping back over to the paint buckets.
"What do you mean?" she asked, with a puzzled look on her face.
"You or me...the shower?" he said, leaning down and dropping his brush into a bucket of water.
"You, you, I guess. Yeah, you can go first," she said, following him over to the buckets. "I'll clean up this mess while you go clean yourself up."
"Okay," he grinned, standing up and departing toward the bathroom.
Grabbing his overnighter on the way, he hurried down the hall to the bath.
Showering, he was torn between whacking off to get rid of his obvious erection or saving it for later, when he was in bed. Finally, after a few strokes, he decided to do it later, after Cynthia went to bed. With a grimace, he turned on the cold water and stood under it until his cock finally began cooperating and wilted back down to a much more manageable size...
Once he was dried off, he quickly slipped his pajamas and slippers on before heading back out to the living room. Stepping into the living room, he saw that Cynthia was sitting on the couch waiting for him. She had made a fire in the fireplace and had a bottle of wine sitting on the coffee table. Beside the wine sat two glasses. One empty and the other, half full.
"I thought maybe you'd drowned or something," she laughed softly, getting up from the couch.
She had turned the lights down low and the reflection of the flames from the fireplace sparkled off her warm, hazel eyes.
"Sorry," he grinned. "I didn't mean to be gone so long."
"Don't worry about it," she grinned back at him, stepping around him and heading for the bathroom. "I'll be back. Make yourself comfortable and have a glass of wine..."
"Okay," he grunted, watching the sway of her hips under the shirt as she strolled away.
Sitting on the couch, sipping his wine, he watched the flames frolic in the hearth, sending shadows dancing on the walls in the dim light. He was feeling warm and cozy, partially due to the fire's warmth and partially due to the wine. A curious inSeanacy filled the room, as he sat on the couch while his beautiful sister was down the hallway in the shower.
Not that he had experienced the inSeanacy of marriage, but this felt a lot like what he imagined life with the right woman would be.
Suddenly, he felt another stirring down in his pajama bottoms. The thought of her standing under the warm water, letting the spray caress her beautiful milk-laden tits, immediately took its toll and his cock was once again fully erect...and ready.
Ready for what, he angrily asked himself. She was his sister, for Christ's sake!
Thinking back, he remembered their closeness as children. What a long time ago that had been. Now she was twenty-six. She was married, and had a baby. He was sixteen, horny all the time and always looking for a piece of pussy no matter the source. He had to admit, he still loved her. And he knew the way he felt toward her. But that platonic love for her could easily cross the line and become something much more.
Much, much more.
Then that day ten years ago came rushing into his mind...
She had been twenty and he had been ten. They had been messing around in their Dad's work shed out behind the house doing something. What, he couldn't remember. He had just been entering puberty, and was beginning to notice that girls were different than boys. Different in such a nice way. He had noticed that Cynthia's breasts were starting to stick out against the front of her dress, and he felt a new and curious need to see them.
The memory of that incident played itself out in Technicolor, on the wide-screen of his mind...
"How come your, uh, those are sticking out like that?" he asked her as he pointed at the bodice of her dress.
"Those are my breasts, silly. They're getting bigger," she smiled condescendingly. "I'm growing up."
"Can...can I see 'em?" he hesitantly asked.
"Uh, why? Why do you want to see my breasts?" she asked him.
"I don't know," he grinned. "I just want to see them."
"We're not supposed to do stuff like that," she mumbled, stepping over to the window and nervously looking out towards the house.
"Oh, come on...let me see 'em," he sniggered. "I'll show you my, uh, my penis."
"Why would I want to see your...your penis?" she snickered, turning to face him. "Besides, I've already seen one."
"I don't know," he muttered. "I've never seen a girl's tits, or pussy, either. When, when did you see a guy's...a guy's pecker?"
"A couple of weeks ago. I saw Billy Johnson's," she said. "It was pretty big and it got all hard and stuff when I showed him my tits."
"Well, if you could show Billy Johnson, you could show me, can't you? If I show you my.penis?"
"I don't know," she giggled. "How big is yours?"
"Uh, five...five inches when I make it, you know, hard," he said. "Want to see it?"
"Maybe," she smirked. "But first, I'll show you my titties and maybe that'll make it hard, like Billy's got when I showed my tits to him. Then we can measure it!"
"Uh...okay," he grinned, looking down at her pubescent bosom.
After another quick check out the window, she reached up and began unbuttoning her little spring dress.
"Do you wear a bra...uh, brassiere?" he asked her, awkwardly gawking down as he waited for her to bare her breasts.
"No...no, they're not big enough yet," she said, "but they're getting bigger every day."
"Oh," he mumbled, not knowing what to expect.
Finally, with her dress unbuttoned all the way down to her waist, she slowly spread it open to reveal her small, budding breasts.
Even then, he remembered, he had felt a stirring down in his cock. He couldn't explain it. Seeing her budding breasts just made him feel all hot and strange inside, and his cock started to get hard.
Her breasts, if you could call them that, were small, rounded mounds of pink flesh, each tipped with a small, pea-sized nipple that jutted out, hard and swollen.
He hadn't recognized it, back then. Now, eight years later, he understood that it was her own excitement that had aroused those little pebbles...
"Wow," he grunted. "Can I touch one?"
"Just a little," she murmured.
Inquisitively, he reached out and fingered the jutting bud, delicately running his finger over it. She watched his finger trace the outline of her quarter-sized areola and then tickle her jutting nipple again.
"Okay," she mumbled, pushing his hand away and covering herself again as she began buttoning her dress. "That's all you get to do."
"Uh...if I show you my, my dick," he grinned at her. "Will you show me your...your pussy?"
"Maybe," she grinned, coyly, "but show me your cock first."
He couldn't explain why, but his cock was now hard as a rock. This was all so new to him. New feelings, new emotions, uncharted territory."
"Okay," he said, unsnapping his pants. "How big was Billy's...Billy's peter?"
"I don't know," she giggled, "I didn't have a tape measure with me. But it looked really big. Too big to put it in my little pussy."
"Have you ever had...had a peter in your pussy?"
"No," she said emphatically. "Have you ever put your peter in a girl's pussy?"
"No...no..." he said, grinning shyly, pushing his pants down. "Maybe we could, uh, you know, uh do it later."
"I'll have to see it...see how big it is, first," she murmured, staring down at the bulge of his cock jutting out against his white, cotton shorts. "It looks awful big to me. Maybe too big."
"Well?" he grunted, shoving his jockeys down off his stiff prick.
"Wow! It is big...even bigger than Billy's!" she said, but he knew that his cock was small. Still staring down at his cock. "Can I touch it?"
"Uh, yeah, uh, sure," he said, thrusting his hips forward, bringing it closer to her.
"I...I never saw one as big before," she lied again, tentatively reaching out and running her fingers down his swollen, four-inch cock. "I don't think it will fit in my pussy."
"Let me see it," he said. "I want to see it. See your pussy and see if my cock will fit in it."
"Wait, wait a minute," she huffed, wrapping her hand around the thick shaft of his oversized cock. "It's so big."
"Come on...come on," he whined. "Let me see. Let me see it."
"Oh all right," she muttered, nervously looking out the window toward their house. "We can't let anybody catch us doing this, though."
"I know...I know," he grunted. "Why don't your pull your panties down while I watch out the window and make sure nobody is coming."
"Okay," she said, pushing her father's tools aside and crawling up onto his worktable. "But keep watching and don't be looking at me until I tell you."
"I will...I will, just hurry up," he muttered, watching the back door of their house.
"Okay...okay, you can look," she finally said.
Sean turned and saw she was lying in the middle of the table with her knees splayed out, and her white, cotton panties wrapped around her ankles. As she did, her pubescent pussy defiantly stared up at him from between her skinny legs. A soft tangle of sparse brown hairs encircled the knife-slit gash that bisected the mound of flesh between her legs as he gazed down at it in wonder and awe.
"Can I touch it?" he breathlessly asked.
"Oh, I guess, but just a little bit," she whined.
"Where's your...your clitoris, your clit?" he asked, gently running his fingertips over the tiny, soft lips surrounding her secret place.
"Here...this, this is it," she mumbled, running two fingers down the slit and peeling the fleshy hood back off her miniature clit.
"Wow," he whispered, fingering it delicately.
"It gets all tingly when you touch it like that," she murmured. "Like it does when I see your big peter."
"Can I see, can I see if my...my peter will fit?" he asked, grabbing her by the thighs and pulling her over to the edge of the table.
"I...I guess. But don't be rough...and stop if I tell you to stop...okay?" she told him.
"SEAN...CYNTHIA...ARE YOU OUT THERE..." they heard their mother cry out from the back door of the house.
"Crap," Sean cursed, grabbing his shorts and pants, pulling them up as fast as he could.
"Go...go hide," Cynthia blurted out, jumping down off the table and jerking her panties up." I'll tell her I haven't seen you and you can come in later. Okay."
"Okay...maybe later?" he grinned.
"No, this was too close. Not again...I don't want to get caught."
His eyes were closed, and a soft smile played at the corners of his mouth as the last of the incident played through his mind. He was so caught up in the memory that he failed to hear the sound of his sister's footsteps as she entered the living room.
"What are you so deep in thought about?" he heard Cynthia ask.
Dragging himself back to the present, Sean turned and saw his sister padding across the living room toward him. She had a big, white towel wrapped around her hair and wore a fleecy, white bathrobe wrapped around her body and tied at the waist.
"Uh, oh, nothing," he blushed, eyeing the swell of her breasts under the robe.
"Must have been something," she laughed softly, easing down onto the couch and leaning forward, "I called to you twice, and you didn't answer."
Unwrapping her hair, she began drying it, roughly rubbing it with the towel. As she did, her big, jiggling breasts drooped down, forcing the robe open.
Gawking down at her big breasts, he felt his hard cock twitch. He had never seen such beautiful breasts. Round, melon-sized breasts, that bobbled and danced as she continued to dry her hair. Finally, she tossed the towel on the coffee table and looked down at her exposed breasts.
"Oh...I'm sorry...I didn't know," she blushed, clutching her bathrobe closed. "You must think I'm such a klutz..."
"Uh...no...and don't be sorry. I didn't mind at all," he grinned foolishly.
The silence was deafening. There was no sound except for the crackle of the fire as Cynthia, still clutching her robe together, leaned forward and picked up her glass. Then, she turned to face him, curling her leg under her as she stuffed her robe down between her legs and laid her arm on the back of the couch.
Sean didn't know what to say to her...or do. How could he tell her how he really felt about her? How could he tell her that he really loved her like a sister, but that he wanted to love her like a man loves his woman?
"Uh, you remember that day...that day out in Dad's work shed?" he finally asked.
"You mean the day that you asked me to show you my breasts? If you could call them breasts back then...they were so small," she laughed.
"Yeah, that day," he said, gulping.
She remembered, he giddily thought. And she's even joking about it. That's a good sign, isn't it?
"Well, they sure aren't small anymore!" he said, his cheeks reddening slightly.
"And I bet your...your, what did you call it back then? Oh, yeah, your peter...I bet your peter has grown a little, too," she smiled, glancing down at the obvious lump in his pajamas.
What? This is too easy, he told himself. She had joked about her breasts, and now she was telling him that she bet his cock had grown since then. Maybe he ought to show it to her. Show her how much it had grown. What would she think? She had thought that five inches was big, back then. What would she think of the eight inch slab of rock hard meat?
"A little," he grinned. "Too bad Mom broke it up..."
"Yeah," she said, sipping on her wine. "I've always wondered what would have happened, if we'd had another ten or fifteen minutes undisturbed. You know that I was a virgin back then, don't you?"
"That's what you said," he snickered, "but I really didn't believe you. You were so grown up and all, and I was just a bumbling kid. I just thought you were saying that so that I would think you were still a virgin."
"Well, I was," she laughed. "See how close you came to getting your first cherry? Your sister's cherry?"
"Damn," he cursed, smiling, "that would have been something. Getting my sexy, hot sister's cherry! Just thinking about it makes, uh, makes... well, let's say it's just as exciting today as it was back then."
"Yeah," she said, taking another sip of wine. "I can see..."
After refilling his glass, he leaned back and laid his arm on the back of the couch. Now their hands were almost touching. Moving his hand closer, he brushed his fingertips over the back of her hand. As he did, he saw her flinch, pulling her hand away, then looked into his eyes. He didn't move as he gazed into her eyes. Then, to his amazement, she eased her hand back over to his, running her fingertips over the back of his hand.
A fiery jolt of excitement arced through his cock, making it twitch down inside his pajamas. She seemed to notice too, as she glanced down at the bulge of his cock, then back up to his face. As they lovingly stared into each other's eyes, Sean gently took hold of her hand and eased it over onto its back. Then, he delicately ran a fingertip over the soft warmness of her palm. Slowly, he rubbed his finger back and forth across her palm as she gazed into his eyes. Finally, he felt her hand ease out from under his. Looking down at it, he watched it grasp his hand and roll it over. Then he saw -- and felt -- her fingernail tickle across his palm, sending another jolt of electricity arcing through his peter.
The signal couldn't have been more obvious.
"Cynthia..." he murmured, leaning toward her and reaching down to the knotted belt of her bathrobe.
Slowly, gently, almost fearfully, he pulled the knot open as they both looked down at his hands.
To be continued……
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