Gabby 1

My name is Gabrielle, everyone calls me Gabby. My parents both work, my mom is a stewardess, and my dad is an investment banker so my home life is pretty much short durations of their company and long periods of their respective absences. They’re both divorcee’s, I guess that makes them understand better that the other needs their own space. To tell you the truth, I’m not sure which I enjoy more. They’re pretty nice and lenient as far as parents go, they kind of have to be being gone so much. It’s pretty much, “we’re not going to tell you what to do, but you have to live with the consequences of your actions so don’t do anything stupid.” They’re nice, and I love them, but at the same time, its nice to be on your own. Plus I like spending time with my step-brother, Tim.

As far as brothers go, he’s been remarkably understanding of little tag-a-long me. Our parents married seven years ago when he was 10, and I was 7. I didn’t like him at first, but once we got to know each other, anyone would be hard-pressed to keep us apart. I’m sure I’ve been a pain more than a few times, incessantly wanting to hang out with him or his friends, but he’s always let me be his shadow. There are times I can tell my presence is wearing on him, and I try my best to let him be, but after eight years of being an only child with an absentee father, its nice to actually have company most of the time.

One afternoon we were finishing up lunch. “It’s your turn to clean up sis,” he said putting his plate in the sink. “I’m gonna be in my room for a little while.” It was in that tone that said he wanted some alone time so I let him go.

I put the plates in the dishwasher along with the utensils and put away the macaroni salad we’d been eating, in doing so spilling my glass of water all over myself and the floor. “Oh shit,” I said to myself. The front of my shirt was soaked, and the glass had chipped. I threw it out and cleaned up the floor, heading into my room to change.

I peeled off my shirt and couldn’t help but catch a glance of myself in the mirror. I would best describe my 14 year old body as “getting there.” I had firm 36-A breasts that I hoped were still growing (getting there) and nickel sized areolas. I was skinny, but my stomach still retained a smidgen of baby fat. Getting there. I’d tried tanning, but remained pretty white. Getting there, but considering the gross skin of some of the girls at school that tanned frequently, maybe time to stop trying. I didn’t really have a maternal figure to steer me away from the influences of magazines and television, and tell me I was beautiful just the way I was, so I tried to do it myself. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t.

From the neck up, I was a bit more fond of myself. I was told I looked a little like Avril Lavigne, and the days I smiled at that statement slightly outnumbered the days I thought “no f-in way.” I looked at a picture of Avril I’d cut out of the newspaper and put by the mirror. I had a bit squarer jaw, and my cheeks weren’t as round. Also, my hair was not nearly as bright as hers often looking as brown as it did blonde. The similarity lay in the eyes. Her and I had the exact same big blue eyes.

I heard my brother’s door open across the hall and jumped. I was out of view, but the sudden unexpected noise jarred me out of my thoughts. I quickly pulled on my shirt, but probably needn’t have as I heard him head down the stairs, then quickly back up and into his room. I walked out into the hall to head back downstairs myself, but noticed he hadn’t shut his door. When our doors were closed, we left each other alone, but that happened so rarely. I figured since he left his open, it was fair game to peer in and see what he was up to.

I walked over quietly, still unsure that this was ok and looked through the crack. I couldn’t tell what was going on so I slowly opened it another inch. I was greeted to a sight that both shocked me and aroused my curiosity. He was sitting at his computer with his headphones on, watching two people have sex while he rubbed himself.

Never having had “the talk” with anyone, I knew what sex was and that was about it. I’d never seen a naked body before other than my own, and the snippets of nudity I caught in movies. His penis intrigued me, I knew what one was supposed to look like, but it was still somehow different than I expected. I knew that boys could be hard and soft, and they were bigger when hard, but Tim still looked huge to me. It was about the length of a hotdog, maybe a little longer and one and a half to two times as thick. He seemed to enjoy rubbing himself, and I’d been told what guys did, but it was still a bit fuzzy to me. I decided to wait and watch.

He was on some website. He’d rub himself while a video played then move his hand to the mouse and click on another, or find pictures of naked women. He shifted in his chair, partially blocking my view, so I slid the door open a bit more. Unfortunately his room was a bit messy, and the door made a wooden “thud” as it hit something on the floor. I hoped with his headphones on he might not hear, but he whirled around immediately. His eyes went wide with shock as he saw me, and he couldn’t decide whether to cover himself or hide what was on the computer screen. He did neither for a few seconds while I just stared at his cock. I could feel my panties getting wet, something I’d been told happened when you were turned on, even though I still didn’t really know what that meant. All I knew was when I looked at Tim’s penis, I wasn’t grossed out or put off, just curious.

Finally, after several long seconds, he grabbed a pillow to cover himself and I backed out of his room into my own at sat down, stunned. I heard his door shut across the hall and thought about what I’d seen. I wanted to touch it, though he’d probably never let me. I had so many questions and like always, no one to answer them for me.

I heard his door open again. He walked into my room, head down, not making eye contact. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

“No, it’s ok, I…uh…it was my fault.”

“Are you ok?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I answered and then paused. He got up to leave. “What were you doing?” I finally managed as he had one foot out the door. He stopped.

“Uh…masturbating,” he said, turning red.

“What’s that?” I’d heard the word a few times, but never quite had the courage to ask someone what it was. I was too afraid they’d look at me goggle-eyed like they always did when I asked stupid questions about sex. I’d lagged so far behind my friends and what they knew, and trying to catch up always made me feel dumb.

“Uh, well, you sort of rub yourself until you…uh…” he paused for a few seconds. “until you finish.”

“Why?”

“Uh, well it feels really good, both during and …uh, when you finish.”

I’d been told the basics of sex, but never the stuff like this. I just figured it was what people did to make babies. “Did you finish?” I asked.

“No, you…I…uh…was interrupted.”

“Well you should finish,” I said. He laughed at that, but continued to sit there. A few minutes of silence passed. “Can I do it?” I asked.

“Uh yeah, girls can masturbate too, you kind of—”

I cut him off, “no, can I do it to you?”

He gave me a weird look, “what give me a handjob.”

“What, no, masturbate you,” I said.

“It’s called a handjob when someone else does it,” he said.

“Oh, well can I?” I asked.

“Huh, what…”

“Well you said you didn’t finish, and you kept having to stop to use the mouse, so I’ll do it for you while you watch the videos.”

“That’d be a little weird,” he said.

“No it won’t, come on, I already saw you doing it anyways, this time I’ll just be helping.” He looked at me for several seconds, as if mulling the issue over. “Come on,” I added.

“Alright, fine,” he mumbled, “but you can’t tell anyone. They wouldn’t like it if they found out.”

“I promise,” I said, and got up to follow him into his room. He shut the door, even though there was no one else home, and probably wouldn’t be for a couple days. He stood there for a moment, as if not sure what to do. “Well, take your clothes off,” I said impatiently.

He peeled off his T-shirt, and slid down his shorts. In his haste to dress himself, he had skipped putting on boxers. I stared at his cock, pointing slightly downward. “It’s not hard, right?”

“Right,” he answered.

“Can I touch it?” I asked. He stepped closer to me, and I reached down for a feel, curling my hand around his shaft. I could feel it filling up in my hand as I did, and slowly starting to point its way upward. I watched it grow until it was long and curved and pointing up at about a 45 degree angle. “Cool,” I said smiling. He laughed. “It looks so big,” I said, touching it again and producing a shudder.

“It’s only six and a half inches,” he said, “a little above average.”

“Well it looks big to me,” I said, stroking it a little. He said thanks and laughed. “Well do you want to sit down?” I asked after rubbing it lightly for a minute. He nodded, and took a seat in his computer chair. I knelt in front of it, getting under the desk so he could scoot close and use the mouse.

From here, I had a close-up view. It looked amazing, ramrod stiff with veins lightly visible under the skin and a mushroom head. I wrapped my hand around it and started moving it up and down. “Do I do it like this?”

“Move it up further, right underneath the head, yeah right there, and a little faster. Yeah, that’s good,” he said, instructing me. With no need for silence now, he removed his headphones and turned on the speakers. I focused on stroking it just the way he told me to while moans poured from the computer above me. He focused mostly on watching his videos, but kept glancing down and watching me for a bit. I smiled at him each time I did, and kept asking if I was doing it right. The first few times he reassured me, but after a while he shut his eyes and would just moan and nod.

I continued to stroke him, watching it move in my hand. After a while, I got curious and started rolling his balls around with my other hand. “Oh yeah,” he moaned while I played with them. I liked the feel, and the way they rolled around. All the while, his increasing moans, and the sounds coming from the computer made me wetter and wetter.

“Yeah, faster, I’m so close,” he said suddenly, breaking my out of my trance. I picked up the pace, and felt his dick shifting in my hand. It was as though it was throbbing, getting harder. I assumed boys had some muscle I didn’t know about. It happened every few seconds at first, then more and more often. Finally he let out a long moan and white stuff started shooting from his dick. A few streams at first, but then it started dribbling out. “Slower,” he commanded, and I lessened my pace. After several seconds, there was no white stuff left. “You can stop now,” he said, grabbing a box of tissues.

“No, let me do it,” I said grabbing the box. “It is my turn to clean up,” I said with a smile.

“Thanks,” he replied.

“What is it?”

“It’s called cum, its what happens when the guy finishes. Some girls do too.”

“It’s messy,” I said with a laugh.

“Sorry,” he said, noticing it was all over my hands and arms in addition to his stomach and the plastic chair.

“No, it’s okay,” I said wiping it up. “It means I did a good job, right?” He nodded and smiled. “How often can you do it?” I asked.

“Not too often, a few times a day at most.”

“Oh, well I wouldn’t mind doing it again,” I said, finishing and throwing the tissues in the trash. He smiled and started to get dressed, and I noticed he was starting to shrink. While he got dressed, I went to take a shower. I remembered that we had to run to the store today to pick up milk and some of the other basics.

While showering, I thought about what just happened. It turned me on so much to be able to make Tim feel good like that. I wanted to do it again and again, but I knew he wouldn’t be ready for a while. Girls could do it too, he said. My hands drifted down to my own parts. I had a fair amount of dark pubic hair. I’d noticed that Tim shaved, I wondered if girls did too. I’d have to ask him later. I started rubbing my pussy, not really feeling anything at first. I finally decided to try sticking a finger in. This combined with the spot near the top of my vagina that my hand rested on made me open my mouth in shock. It felt so good so I started moving my hand around. My eyes went wide with shock as I tilted backward into the wall of the shower.

For the next half an hour I experimented with moving my hand around, and touching different areas, but nothing compared to the squishy spot near the top of my pussy. Eventually I felt the walls of my pussy start to close on my fingers. I wasn’t sure what was happening, but I kept going. Then, like a flash, it happened. My pussy clamped down hard on my fingers and I felt a rush of pleasure so intense, I couldn’t help but scream, “oh my god.” I clamped the other hand over my mouth to keep quiet while it kept feeling better and better. Finally after what seemed like several minutes, I felt the pleasure start to subside as I noticed the tiredness in my arms for the first time.

Intrigued, and excited at this new discovery, I stood there for a moment before finally cleaning up and getting out. I wrapped one towel around my waist, and another around my hair and headed down the hall to my room. I passed my brother on the way there, instinctively covering myself more with the towel.

“Hey,” he said after I passed him. “You’ve seen me naked, but I haven’t seen you.”

“Yeah,” I said a bit shyly.

“Well, it’s only fair.”

“I guess so,” I said, opening the towel, embarrassed at being seen in the nude. He took a good long look at my body, and grinned.

“Very, very nice,” he said.

“You think so?”

“Definitely, drop the towel and spin for me.” I did as he told me, letting the towel fall to the floor and spinning around so he could get a good look at my backside. I went to pick the towel up again and found that he’d taken it.

“Hey,” I said in mock anger with my hands on my hips. He laughed.

“Get dressed, we have to go to the store.”

I slipped a tank top on, deciding to forego the bra. My small boobs really didn’t need it, and it was hot out. I finished the outfit with a black pair of panties and some gym shorts.

We got in the car, and didn’t talk for a little while. It was sort of awkward, but not as much as I’d thought. I had so many more questions, I just didn’t know how to ask.

“Do girls shave?” I finally just blurted out, then immediately covered my mouth not believing what I’d just said.

“Yeah,” he said, “at least most do, some all the way, some leave a little hair, a strip or a triangle.”

“What should I do?”

“I don’t know,” he laughed.

“Well, what looks better?”

He thought about this for a moment, “shave it all off first, then we’ll see.”

I nodded. We were silent for a bit, then talked about other stuff the rest of the way. In the supermarket, we usually took turns pushing around a cart while he grabbed stuff that we needed and I grabbed stuff that we wanted. We got to the cosmetics aisle, and instead of mucking around with a razor for a while, I opted to grab some waxing strips. He grinned at me, then looked at me mischievously, but said nothing.

When we got to the frozen foods section, my hard nipples started to poke through my thin grey tank top. Tim looked at me. “You’re not wearing a bra,” he whispered. I shook my head. “Nice, very nice,” he said. That made me shudder a bit and my lower regions jump again. I noticed that even when we left to warmer parts of the store, that thought kept my nipples nice and perky. A few people stared at me as the thin layer of fabric made it very obvious.

We checked out, and I would tell the young male cashier was trying to undress me with his eyes. I found that it didn’t embarrass me as much. In fact, I kind of liked it. We loaded up the car for the twenty minute drive back to our house in the country.

“Truth or dare,” I blurted out, eager to get some of my questions answered. He replied with a truth. “Has anybody ever given you a handjob before?” He shook his head. “Really? Can I do it again?”

“Yeah, definitely, hey, I get to ask you now.”

“Right, sorry. Tell you what, you can ask two….truth.”

“Did you masturbate in the shower?”

I turned beet-red and looked out the window. I figured he had to have heard me, I just didn’t want to believe it. “Yes,” I finally answered. He nodded knowingly.

“Truth or dare,” he asked.

“Dare,” I answered, wanting to avoid another question like that.

“Take off your shirt.”

“What?!” I asked thinking I heard wrong.

“I dare you to take off your shirt. I mean, I already saw you naked. These windows are tinted, no one will see.”

“Yeah, okay,” I finally relented, peeling off my tank top and tossing it in the back seat. I was sure I was blushing, but I was also a bit aroused.

“Do you like my boobs?”

“Mmm, definitely,” he said, “not too big, not too small.” I smiled at that. “That counts as your question, by the way.” He said. I said truth for the next, and he asked me if I’d ever fooled around with anyone. That was an obvious no. I asked him how long he’d been masturbating. He said since he was about thirteen.

The next one I paused for a moment, thinking about my choice. Finally, with some excitement, I replied, “dare.”

“Take it all off.” I paused for a moment, then figured if I’d already gone this far… I stripped off my shorts and panties and put them, along with my shirt, into one of the bags. He licked his lips at the sight of me naked once more. A few minutes later, we pulled into our driveway. He got out and took a few bags into the house while I rummaged around for my clothes. When he came back outside, I still hadn’t found them. “Whatcha lookin for?” he asked with a smile. Right then I knew he’d taken them.

“How am I supposed to get in the house?” He shrugged and smiled. I covered myself as best I could and stepped out of the car, looking around for prying eyes. While we weren’t in suburbia, we weren’t in the middle of nowhere either. I started towards the house, but he stopped me.

“Take some of the groceries in.” I stood still for what seemed like an eternity, then grabbed two bags. They kept me from covering myself, and I felt like my entire body was going to turn red with embarrassment, though, oddly, I enjoyed the sensation. I hurried into the house and looked for my clothes. They were in the bag that held my waxing strips. I grabbed them and went into the bathroom while Tim put the rest of the groceries away.

I looked at myself in the mirror, then put the strips on the appropriate spots. They looked absurd on me, but I couldn’t bring myself to tear them off. I’d been told it hurt. Tim came barging into the bathroom. “I thought so,” he said upon seeing me. “Need some help with that?” I nodded meekly and shut my eyes. A few seconds later he ripped the strips off. I yelped with pain and immediately rubbed the spot. I was shocked and pleased at how smooth my skin felt. I felt his hand brush me, sending ripples of pleasure up my body. “Definitely very hot,” he said.

I reached out and touched his shorts, feeling his stiff cock through them. “Can I play with it again?” I asked. “Please.” He nodded and headed to his room, with me right behind.

“Don’t you want to get dressed?” he asked. I had completely forgotten that I had no clothes on.

I shook my head, “I’ll be fine.”

I got into position underneath his desk once more, and he stripped and sat, starting up the videos. It had only been a few moments when I heard a strange sucking sound coming from his speakers. I was curious as to what he was watching, so I leaned out and peered up. What I saw fascinated me. The girl had his dick in her mouth and was bobbing up and down. I was entranced, his dick was bigger than Tim’s and she was able to take the whole thing in her mouth.

“What’s that?”

He noticed I was watching and looked down. “A blowjob?”

“Does it feel good?”

“I dunno, it’s supposed to be amazing.”

“Can I try?” He shifted uncomfortably. “Please, pretty please? You can teach me.”

“Yeah, but put your hair up so it doesn’t get in the way.” I moved out from under the desk and grabbed a scrunchie from my room. When I got back, he was laying on his bed with his legs spread.

“So you don’t hit your head on the desk,” he explained.

“Don’t you want to watch your videos?”

“Well if I’m going to teach you, I need to focus on what you’re doing.” He had a point. I climbed up on the bed and knelt in between his legs. I grabbed it with one hand and leaned over, sliding the head into my mouth. He moaned as I started moving my tongue around. It felt interesting to have him in my mouth, hard and warm, a little salty, but not a bad taste. He grabbed my pony tail and started moving my head up and down. “Make sure you watch the teeth,” he warned. I concentrated on keeping a tight seal with my lips and licking him all over. He moaned loudly any time my tongue got near his head so I concentrated my efforts there.

He kept pushing my head down farther and farther, until it poked at the back of my throat. I tried to take it all like the woman in the video, but I kept gagging. “Sorry,” I said pulling off.

“That’s ok, it takes practice,” he told me.

I put in my mouth again and bobbed up and down, feeling a little better. I could hear him moaning and feel his dick hardening in my mouth. He must be close. I didn’t know what to do with his cum, so I just kept going. I was afraid that it would taste bad, but he was enjoying it so much and I didn’t want to stop. My jaw started to get tired, but I kept moving faster and faster, still working my tongue. After several minutes, I felt the first stream of cum hit the back of my throat. This time was weaker than the last as he only shot once, and started dribbling onto my tongue. He writhed on the bed while I milked all the cum from his dick with my lips and tongue. It made me so wet to be able to give him pleasure like that. And the taste, it was a bit of a shock at first, but I found I actually enjoyed the saltiness and the texture.

When I was sure I’d gotten it all, I slid his dick out of my mouth. He lay there still, breathing heavily. “Thank you,” I told him. He smiled. “Can I do this every day?” I asked.

He grinned again. “Maybe.”

“Oh.”

“If you’re good, and you follow certain rules,” he said with a laugh.

I laughed too. Tim was supposed to be my babysitter of sorts, and even though our parents continued to use the word, the fact that we were both older made it kind of moot.

“Yes sir,” I said, mock saluting him.

He laughed again. “I like that though, you calling me sir.”

“Really? Sir,” I added.

“Yea, I think you should from now on.”

“Yes sir, any other rules?”

“I don’t know, I’ll make them up as I go,” he said, starting to get dressed. “I know one thing, I’d certainly like to see you wearing slutty clothes like you did at the store.”

I smiled and headed to my room.

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