"Don't know how long I can hold it – nearly came while I was watching you in the bath."
It wasn't very long. Suddenly he started writhing and groaning and a spurt of sperm shot out and landed on my thigh. The another hit my left breast. A third just leapt a little way into the air and landed on his hand. This was what I'd needed. I found my hand working faster and faster and in a matter of seconds I abandoned myself to another mind-blowing orgasm.
The interesting thing was that I didn't feel the slightest pang of guilt. On the contrary, somehow it had all seemed so natural. As Andrew gently wiped the sperm off my thigh and breast with a tissue, I felt a further twinge in my crutch. He was my brother, but he was a real man, and a gentleman at that. He gave me an affectionate kiss on the cheek and left. His quiet 'Thank you' was quite unnecessary. I was more grateful to him than he could ever be to me. I went off to sleep very quickly, but woke up in the middle of the night and realized that I was still naked – and very damp. I was tempted to go to his room, but decided it would be too dangerous, so I just masturbated myself to sleep. I didn't have to worry about whether there would be a repeat performance – the next time our parents were out for the evening he invited me into his room and showed me how he used his 'Fleshlight', considerately taking it off just before he came, so that I could watch the spurts of sperm!
The third time, he took my hand and put it on his prick, encouraging me to rub it for him. Oh, how wonderful it felt! So wonderful that I didn't notice that his hand was on my clit until one finger started to find its way gently inside. I couldn't resist. As I was cumming I rubbed him harder and he spurted all over my breasts at the very moment I was overcome by my own orgasm.
Shortly after this, Mum went away for a few days. She didn't say as much to us, but I'm sure it was to have a rest from Dad, who was almost permanently drunk, if he wasn't with a prostitute. Andrew had followed him once and seen him go into a house, the front door of which had been opened by a scantily dressed black girl. Before Mum had left they'd had a terrible row – I'd heard most of it and it really got me down. I felt really depressed and decided to have an early night. When I was ready for bed I went to Andrew, who was doing something at his computer and said:
"Will you come up to say goodnight to me?"
"Yes, of course, he said with a smile."
I went upstairs, got into bed and switched out the light. Five minutes or so later he came into the room.
"Will you get into bed and snuggle up with me?"
"OK," he said with a smile.
He slipped into bed and lay on his back right beside me. Then he turned towards me and stroked my face.
"Hey, you're crying – what's the matter?"
"I can't take Mum's and Dad's quarrelling any longer It's gone too far."
"Don't let it get to you, Julia. It's got to come to a head soon."
Andrew hugged me too him and gave me a gentle kiss on the cheek – almost on the lips – and I realized that he was crying too. He was a man, but the trouble between Mum and dad must have really got to him too. I hugged him tightly, and suddenly our bodies seemed to become one. We lay there, motionless except for the slight synchronous vibrations caused by our joint sobbing – vibrations that made me only too aware of the increasing pressure of Andrews swelling penis against my thigh. What happened next was, I suppose, inevitable. It was also unimaginably beautiful. As I felt the increasing pressure of Andrew's erection, I loosened my tight grip on him and let one hand slip down towards the strange intruder in my bed. As soon as I reached it I helped it free itself from the confines of his underpants, wriggling downwards in the bed as I did so, so that my nightdress rode upwards and freed my own sex. Of course we both knew that what we were about to do was a sin, a universal taboo, and yet it seemed so inexpressibly natural. Neither of us had ever done anything quite like this with anyone else. But if it was so wrong, how did it happen that two totally inexperienced youngsters became one so freely, so spontaneously, so perfectly? Yes, of course it was a sin – it was an offence against both moral and religious law and yes, of course it was a taboo – it was prohibited by social custom as a protective measure against generic deformation – but unnatural it most certainly was not. It was no more and no less than a natural expression of true, unadulterated love and anyone who thinks otherwise can never have experienced true, unadulterated love. Brotherly love.
