Clone-a-Willy Adventures

All characters are over 18. This is a work of fiction, and all characters, locations, and events are imaginary. This is a multipart series, and things start out slow(ish) but keep escalating.

There's a fair bit of anatomical terminology here, because the POV character is a nurse. Hopefully that won't detract from your enjoyment. I'll provide a short anatomical glossary along with some fun facts to help out.

Glans: the tip of the penis, distinct from the shaft, aka cock head

Corona: the flare or ridge running around the bottom edge of the glans

(Penile) Meatus: the slit-like opening at the tip of the penis, where urine and semen come out

(Penile) Frenulum: the band of tissue right below the meatus connecting to the foreskin (even if circumcised); this has plentiful nerve endings and many men are very sensitive there

(Scrotal) Raphe: the seamlike band of tissue running vertically down the middle of the exterior scrotum

*^*^*^*

I'm obsessed with my brother's penis.

I suppose I should back up a few steps. My name's Jen (not Jenny, not Jennifer; Jen). I'm 25 years old, and my brother Brian is 32. Technically he's my half-brother (mom was married twice) but we grew up together and he's always been there for me.

Brian's a tall skinny goofball, and if he weren't so damned hot I'd say he's too smart for his own good. He pulls it off though. He's been in one relationship after another since he was 16, always with phenomenally attractive women that make me feel small and insignificant in comparison.

I've always been short and curvy. Brian can eat anything at all and never gain weight, and I can't seem to slim down no matter what I do. I run every day, I count calories, and I'm still not in the shape I want. People tell me I'm attractive, and I've always had men (well, mostly boys) interested in me since high school, but Brian's always dated these tall supermodel types, and that's just not me. At 5'3" I'm usually pushing 135lbs, and my butt always strains to fit into the pants I like. That's one of two reasons I often wear skirts; the other of course is ease of access, because I'm a horny little thing.

Brian's been living with Cathy, his fiancée, for a year now. Thankfully we get along really well. She's just lovely, inside and out, and in some ways she's the sister I always wanted. We meet up at least once a week to shop or see a movie or just get some food.

She's predictably gorgeous, and despite being nearly 6 inches taller, she only weighs a little more than me. We even wear the same size bras (36C). It's just not fair.

I know I'm a bit weird about measuring everything, but it comes with the job. I'm a nurse in a pediatric ward. They usually work us for 12-hour shifts, three days on and four off, and I love the job but it can be grueling. There's a locker room but I usually wear my scrubs all day instead of changing at work. When I come home I'm ready to unwind, maybe have a glass of wine and watch something that I don't need to think about that much.

A month ago I came home to find my apartment building was on fire. There was smoke everywhere, and though it was dark and the complex's lights were all out, I could see the firefighters running back and forth and hear their yelling. A police cordon was set up and the officers wouldn't even let me approach.

I was exhausted and cranky already, and finding that all my belongings were either destroyed entirely or at best badly damaged (and in any event inaccessible) was just too much. I called Brian, and he and Cathy told me to come stay with them in their condo. I knew my renter's insurance would probably put me up in a hotel but I just didn't have the bandwidth to deal with it, so I agreed to stay that night, with the intention of leaving in the morning.

They plied me with wine and reassurances and were just the absolute best. I collapsed early in the guest bedroom, where Cathy had laid out a robe. All I had otherwise were my scrubs, underwear, socks, and shoes.

I awoke in the dark, lost and confused, and had a moment of total disorientation. I needed to pee, badly, but didn't remember where I was or why I was there. I sat up and oriented myself, and realized I could hear faint voices coming from upstairs, from Brian and Cathy's room.

I slipped the robe on; it was far too long and not quite wide enough around my shoulders and hips but otherwise fit well. I felt awkward and didn't want to disturb Brian and Cathy, so I moved as silently as I could, opening my door carefully and tiptoeing down the hall to the bathroom.

I could hear much more clearly in there; the bathrooms were one above the other after all, and their bedroom adjoined their bathroom. Cathy's muffled voice said, "Yes! Unh. Easy. Ow. Slower. Nonono. Not so... oh. Oh God. Oh God. Yes. Yes!" It sounded like she was talking into a pillow. Between words she moaned and grunted like a woman possessed.

I've had good sex. Hell, I've had great sex. But those sounds... I've never had an experience like whatever Cathy was going through.

Clearly she loved it, but clearly it was overwhelming her. And the most obvious reason Cathy would moan like that, in pleasure, was that she was being penetrated by something large. Large enough to be hard to take, large enough for her to beg him to slow down. Which was not something I expected to be thinking about, frankly, but I kept listening and kept thinking.

I could hear Brian, too, grunting faintly but slowly. Whatever they were doing, it wasn't just him jackhammering her. Which was a really odd thing to even imagine, but there I was imagining it. Vividly.

The most likely explanation was that they were engaging in anal sex, and Cathy was new to the experience. Thinking back to my first time, I could sympathize. They needed to invest in lube, clearly. And she should also look into learning to relax her sphincter.

I finished urinating and wasn't sure what to do. I didn't want them to know I'd been listening, but I didn't want to leave the toilet unflushed and my hands unwashed either. I agonized for a few minutes, but the truth is I was also enjoying listening, and I was feeling oddly conflicted about what I could hear. It was undeniably hot, but it was my brother making her make those noises. And that in turn led to a spiral of confusing and contradictory thoughts I wasn't ready to deal with.

In the end cowardice won out. I headed back to the guest room and fell back into a fitful sleep. At one point I had a dream that I was a donut, and the baker placed me on a wooden dowel that I could barely fit on. My glazing was smeared all up and down the dowel, and my cream filling was leaking out.

Dreams are weird.

Thankfully I didn't need to work the next day, and I'd set my alarm for 8am. I'd forgotten that Cathy works early, and I awoke a little before 7 to hear her in the kitchen. I could smell bacon and coffee, but I was so tired still that I fell back asleep thinking of food.

When I got up, Cathy was gone, and Brian was about to head out the door.

"Good morning. How are you? Did you sleep ok?" He had his briefcase in hand and was wearing a suit. I think he'd said something the night before about a big meeting, but the wine and stress and exhaustion had wiped it from my head.

"Yeah, I'm ok thanks. It's... I'm still processing, but I'm ok. And thank you both again for letting me crash here. I'll get my hotel sorted and be out before lunch." I could still smell coffee, and headed over to pour myself a cup, making sure not to trip on the robe.

"Look, you don't need to. Please don't. We'd love to have you stay here, Jen. Losing all your stuff... all the pictures of Mom... it has to be awful. It's a lot to go through. And I don't want you to have to stay in an impersonal hotel when you can be with family instead. We have plenty of room, and you're welcome to stay as long as you like. Weeks. Months. Years. Whatever you need." He was so earnest and so loving that I only protested briefly before giving in.

"If you're sure... ok. Thanks. I really... thanks." It was wholly in character for him, but I was still a little surprised, and was deeply grateful. Brian was the best brother ever.

"Oh, shit, I'm going to be late. Cathy should be home for lunch, but I'll be out all day. See you this evening. Make yourself at home, ok? Love you!" With that he rushed out.

I had no immediate plans or goals beyond breakfast, so I went and checked the fridge. There was a plate, covered in plastic wrap, with bacon, eggs, and toast. Bless Cathy! I popped it in the microwave then settled down to assess my situation.

The first thing I'd need to do was to contact my landlord and my insurance company. No, scratch that. The first thing I needed to do was to borrow some clothes. I knew Cathy wouldn't mind.

After breakfast, I went upstairs to their room. Cathy's closet had a number of blouses that should fit me, and I picked one that wouldn't be too long. Her pants were unworkable, both because my ass would never fit in them, and because I'd look like a Hobbit cosplaying as Galadriel. I picked a skirt instead. I know, objectively, that I'm not obese (my BMI is within the normal range for my height after all), but next to Cathy I felt like a cow. A small cow. A cute, small cow with great tits and a fabulous ass, to be fair.

Borrowing her panties felt weird, and I figured one day of rewearing my current pair wouldn't be too bad. My bra had dried applesauce on it (pediatric wards are full of surprises), so I went to their dressers to have a look at Cathy's bras.

The first dresser's top drawer had men's boxers made of black silk, or at least they looked like silk. They were surprisingly decadent. I didn't know Brian wore... well honestly I'd never given much thought to his underwear.

The second dresser was Cathy's, and the top drawer had bras. She had a wide selection, with the full figure ones I expected, as well as some sports bras and even two cupless ones. Good for her, I thought. For half a moment I contemplated wearing one. What would my breasts look like in that? Would they look as good as hers?

Would Brian like them as much?

I don't know where that thought came from, and I pushed it aside. There were a few sheer bras like I prefer, and one was in a Kelly green that'd go well with my red hair, even if it didn't quite match the shade of my eyes. I mean, nobody was going to see it but me, but I might as well look nice for myself, right?

When I pulled the bra out of the drawer, there was an odd weight that shifted then came loose. With a thump something large and green fell out.

It was a green dildo. And not just any dildo; this one was huge. It was molded to look like a real penis and scrotum. The penis was circumcised, with a prominent glans. The blood vessels looked like something out of a textbook, and I wondered what company would put so much effort into making such lifelike superficial dorsal veins. The frenulum and meatus were honestly a work of art, and it all looked just like a real penis, one with a nice upwards curve that would hit the G-spot perfectly. Other than the bright green color and the unrealistic size, it was a perfect, no, a stunning replica of one of my very favorite things in the world. And it was not only superbly crafted, but also very pleasingly shaped: a fine model of a handsome specimen. A+ work, no question.

I'd picked it up and was inspecting it closely, running my fingers around the corona of the glans, enjoying the nicely flared ridge, before I even realized. It was also quite a bit heavier than my vibrator is... was. Damn it, no more vibrator. Fuck!

Speaking of which, there was a large vibrator running down the middle of the dildo. A very large vibrator. Even without the dildo wrapped around it, this thing had to be over an inch in diameter. With the dildo, the whole thing was more than 2 inches across. My fingers couldn't close around it without using two hands. I did some quick math and realized this monster had to be over 6.5 inches around, and a bit more than 7 inches long. Fuuuuck. This was, what, a 98, 99 percenter? Maybe one in a hundred men has a tool like this. Maybe fewer. Probably fewer.

The testicles were massive, too, with a startlingly realistic raphe running down the middle. The left testicle was even a little lower than the right. Amazing attention to detail, there. Worth whatever they paid for it, no question.

Well no wonder Cathy was struggling last night. They must have bought this recently and she was trying to take it all. Poor girl. Poor lucky girl. Poor lucky, lucky girl.

The silicone was soft in my hands, and when I squeezed I could feel the hardness of the vibrator underneath. I lifted it to my nose out of prurient curiosity; no odor. They'd cleaned it very thoroughly, of which I approved. I mean, I wasn't averse to the smell of pussy, don't get me wrong, but cleaning your sex toys is just a good habit.

It was just so big. So tremendously big. I've had big, but this was, well, bigger. I was sure I could take it, though maybe not all of it. In the right position, if I were really, really turned on, then surely I could fit most of it.

I couldn't help but wonder -- this looked like a literal jawbreaker. I have a pretty smile -- so I've been told and so I believe -- but my mouth isn't all that large, and this was just immense. I opened my mouth wide and pressed the tip up just enough to get a sense of size, as I looked in the mirror over Cathy's dresser. I can't deny it looked hot there next to my mouth, and next thing I knew I found myself stretching my tongue down and opening as wide I could. I pushed it slowly in, trying in vain to avoid having my teeth scrape a little. The glans was massive, and with a satisfying pop the flare of the corona was past my teeth and I held the whole tip in my mouth. My mouth closed a little, jaw grateful for the release, and my teeth rested right behind that ridge I'd been admiring earlier. Out of reflex my tongue stroked the frenulum; most of my lovers had melted when I did that. It felt amazingly realistic. It felt good.

I realized what I was doing and pulled it out. This was Cathy's, not mine, after all. Awash in guilt, I took it to the sink, where I washed it off and carefully dried it. At some point I realized I was absently stroking it, and I quickly took it back to the dresser. I decided to borrow one of the other bras, and put the green monster back where I'd found it, as closely as I could tell anyhow.

There was a black bra on the other side that was nice and soft and neither see through nor wrapped around the Jolly Green Giant's johnson, so I borrowed that and left.

I hadn't showered the night before, and I realized in disgust that I still had the remnants of some applesauce on my chest, so I took a quick shower. That was the plan anyhow. I was worked up and my mind kept returning to the Incredible Hulk upstairs, and though I'd already washed and rinsed, I kept running my hands over myself. Why did they have that dildo, anyhow? And more importantly, what would it feel like inside me? I like -- well, love - feeling stretched and filled but this would be a whole different level.

I'd been absently toying with my clit and pinching a nipple as the hot water ran over me, but I needed more. I inserted one finger and it wasn't enough. I didn't want to be toyed with; I wanted to be fucked. Two fingers was normal for me once I got going and that felt much better. I fucked myself under the pouring water, legs spread wide, head thrown back, one hand furiously working my middle two fingers in and out while the other hand worked the sides of my clitoral hood. Damn, I wished I had my vibrator. I needed more. Three fingers... ahh that was more like it. Not as stretched as I'd be with... that... but still good. I came hard, imagining feeling what Cathy felt last night, replaying her moans and grunts of pleasure in my mind. Imagining what that green monster would feel like inside me.

I dressed and made the call I was dreading, following up on my apartment. I had... well, had had a ground floor apartment, which was wholly destroyed, with the upper floors and all their burned wreckage sharing the space where my one bedroom place used to be. My insurance agent was kind, and helped me get the claim filed without too much fuss, which was just as well because I was feeling overwhelmed and despondent.

I puttered around the house for a bit then settled down to watch some TV, and soon enough I heard Cathy coming home.

"Hi Jen! How are you holding up?" Cathy was all smiles and warmth, and gave me a big hug. I turned my head to the side so my face wasn't buried in her cleavage (nothing wrong with that, but it wasn't my goal here), and hugged her back.

"It's a lot, but I'll be ok. Thanks. I just don't, I don't really know, I don't have..." I was starting to spiral a bit and pulled myself back together. "I'll need to do some shopping this afternoon. Oh! I borrowed clothes, hope that's ok."

Cathy nodded in sympathy. "Yeah, it must be a lot, and of course! What's mine is yours. Do you know what you need? I took a few hours off so we can go shopping together."

I melted in gratitude. She was just so sweet. "Wonderful, thanks! Clothes, first off. Toiletries, and a few sundries I guess? And, uh. A vibrator. A big one." I don't know why I said that but it wasn't untrue.

Cathy blushed and fidgeted. I imagine she was thinking of the green monster upstairs; I surely was. "Sure, we can find you one. Anything you need, Jen." She blinked and seemed about to say something, but then she stopped and instead said, "Let's get some food first then we'll take care of the rest."

Bless her. She drove us to get some burritos, and as I held mine in my hands and stuffed it in my mouth I couldn't help thinking about that green monster again. Seriously, I needed a new vibrator. Like, now.

But first we went clothes shopping. A few bras, some panties, blouses, skirts, and I was good. OK, the bras and panties were a bit on the racy side, but I like the way my ass looks in thongs, and I enjoy bras that are on the sheer side. I might not be a supermodel like Cathy but I had more or less the same breasts as her, dammit, and they looked good. So I bought bras I could see them through. Maybe someday soon someone else would see them, too.

The best part about clothes shopping with Cathy, though, was being in the changing room together as we tried clothes on. Damn, she was gorgeous. And not just her breasts, which I think I've mentioned are much like mine -- and mine are fantastic. Her areolae are smaller and darker, and are vertical ovals, where mine are larger and perfectly circular, and a light rosy pink. Her nipples are also smaller and less prominent than mine, which looks great on her, though I like the way mine protrude when I'm excited. Her collarbone and her neck were just the epitome of grace, swanlike and seductive. She was perfectly unselfconscious. She didn't mind that I was staring at her while we changed and talked, and there were moments when she reminded me strongly of the first woman I fucked.

Anyhow, the shopping went well.

We stopped by a market after and I grabbed the essential stuff quickly enough. Gotta keep those teeth clean, that hair combed, and that pussy nicely trimmed, after all.

Back in the car, Cathy seemed unsure of herself. "So, you said you wanted a vibrator, a big vibrator. Um. Any special preference?"

I figured it was best to come clean. "I'm sorry Cathy. When I went to borrow a bra I saw... what's in your drawer. And I was hoping to get one like, well, like that. I'm not seeing anyone right now and I usually masturbate at least once a day, and fingers are great but... they can't compare to that feeling you get with a nice big cock inside you, you know?"