I was trying to convince my 19 year old college freshman sister, 10 months older than I am, that 99.9% of all guys masturbate.
"Not just occasionally," I said, "routinely."
She looked dubious.
"My theory? Masturbation is hardwired into the male brain and guys can't help themselves."
She laughed and said, "Good theory. I always knew you were a pervert. But at least a damn well adjusted and, might I add, a very well hung pervert."
I laughed too.
"Wait, that means, whoa, that means Dad....., masturbates?"
"I don't want to think about him masturbating either, but I guarantee he does, even if he and Mom fuck routinely and often. Jesus, I don't want to think about them fucking, but you know they do. It's a given. Masturbation feels so good. We need the build-up and release. We need it more often and at times that just aren't convenient for fucking."
"Jesus Jake, I just can't believe it."
"Well believe big sister. Believe."
"Does Mom know?"
"Maybe, maybe not. Probably not. Women often perceive it as a failing on their part. Really has nothing to do with them. It is just the way it is."
I had been home alone. I hadn't had sex since last weekend and was feeling a little tense, to say the least, and had decided to give myself relief. As I sometimes do, I was coaxing my cock slowly to the edge, backing off, and edging again to get that wonderful build up of tension that gives a good payoff when patience is practiced. Anyone who edges for a significant amount of time knows exactly what I am referring to.
Problem is, as I prolonged the payoff, I got sucked more and more into the intensity of the build up and my focus narrowed more and more to just my dick. It was taking incredible concentration to not tip over the edge, to stay on the edge and not pass that point of no return. I never heard my sister's car. I never heard her enter the house. I never heard her walk down the hallway. I never heard her stop just outside my room. I had no idea she was watching me through my barely cracked open bedroom door.
My stiff hard-on was leaking pre-cum copiously onto my abdomen. I had let go of my cock, which remained poised, twitching and bobbing with a life of its own. I couldn't delay or prolong the release demanded by the organ between legs my any longer. I grasped my erect pre-cum coated shaft and hand fucked its length watching its purple head disappear in and out of my palm. My hips involuntarily thrust into my hand as I fucked myself to an intense orgasm. I moaned as I humped violently into the tight grip of my hand. I climaxed. The force and intensity of the ensuing contractions blanked out my surroundings. I was totally focused on the fierce sensations as each ejaculatory squeeze pumped rope after rope of thick jizz onto my stomach and chest. The exquisite sensation swelling within my pelvis and cock threatened to burst open, then temporarily relieved as the pent up juice was forced from the end of my cock and spurted through the air and added to the pool of white cum on my chest. The pleasurable sensations spread out from my cock in warm relaxing waves through my body and limbs.
The prolonged edging and build-up of tension resulted in one of my more intense orgasms. As the volume of each ejaculation began to decrease, my pinpoint focus receded as well. The sharp intake of breath penetrated my orgasmic haze as my contractions ebbed and the sperm oozed rather than jetted from the end of my still twitching cock. My head automatically snapped around as I looked with shocked embarrassment toward the bedroom door.
My heart lurched in my chest with that uncomfortable pain experienced when surprised or frightened. I saw movement through the crack in the door. My sister's face pulled back as I turned toward the sound of her gasp.
"Jesus Deb," is all I could muster.
She hesitated briefly, then walked into the room and stood over me, staring at my cock and the puddles of cum spread across my body.
"Oh my god," she whispered. "I'm sorry. Fuck, I'm so embarrassed."
"No shit. Talk about embarrassed," I quipped back. "Give me a little privacy for Christ's sake," I pleaded.
An evil grin spread across my elder sisters lips. "No, I don't think so. This is too much fun."
"Come on," I shot back.
"No kidding. Jesus. I've never seen so much cum."
"Deb, really. Can't you just leave so I can get myself together?"
"No. I think we need to talk," she said as her eyes thoroughly took in my dick and my cum covered body.
"No way. Quit staring."
"Way brother. I'm enjoying the view. What's up with you anyway? Is your rep with the local female population not as great as it's cracked up to be?"
"What?" I asked incredulously. "What do you know about my reputation? What the fuck does masturbating have to do with my reputation?"
"Jake, you have fucked several of my friends and girls actually do kiss and tell. If someone is getting 'it' regularly, as you seem to be, why are you masturbating?
I couldn't believe I was actually having this conversation with my sister. However, hearing positive things about one's reputation is never a problem. Even if the report was coming from an unexpected source.
"Sis, one has nothing to do with the other. In fact, it may very well be, the more pussy one gets, especially good pussy, the more self-pleasuring," I said with a chuckle as I reached for some tissue.
"You're going to have to explain that one," my sister said as she sat on the arm of the chair beside my bed and watched as I mopped at the white sperm laden jizz.
That brought us full circle to the opening paragraph.
"99.9% of all guys masturbate. The ones that don't either can't because they don't have dicks, or are so fucking fucked-up, we might as well not even bother thinking or talking about that 0.1%. I don't deal in abnormal psychology. I'll let the shrinks do that."
"Sis, don't you masturbate?" I enquired.
