As soon as my 18-year-old brother Donny got back from fishing, I could tell that something just wasn't right. Normally, he puts away his rod and tackle in the utility room by the back door and then comes in the kitchen to get something to eat and, if I'm around, to give me a hard time, especially if I'm wearing my Burger Shack uniform. But this time, he just walked right past me – and the refrigerator – without saying a word and went straight to his room.
He seemed agitated about something, and I could guess what it was. Donny liked to fish down by Aunt Helen and Uncle Roger's place, and he probably got an eyeful of his cousin Tammy skinny-dipping. Maybe her brother Tommy and their cousin Steve was with them – I heard he was in town for a few weeks – and Steve and Tammy were fooling around. Tammy was a good looking girl, nice perky breasts and a cute little butt, so I wouldn't be surprised if Donny hadn't high-tailed it to his room to masturbate.
Now, I should have just left him alone to jack off in peace, but that's not what big sisters do. Instead, I snuck down the hall to see what I could see. And, sure enough, I got an eyeful of my very own brother, Donny Dingus, playing with his dick.
We live in a repossessed mobile home on my grandparents' place that Poppy and Grannie gave my mom after our dad left, and the doors don't shut real good unless you pay real careful attention to what you're doing. Well, in his hurry, Donny hadn't done that, and I could just manage to see through the crack between the door and the jamb.
Donny was sitting on the edge of the rickety twin bed Mom had got him at the thrift store. His long, disheveled brown hair hung down in his face. The dingy white T-shirt he was wearing did very little to cover up the muscles he had developed wrestling at 135 pounds in high school. His old, worn jeans were down around his ankles and his hard, circumcised dick was in his hand. Up and down, up and down, he stroked it, and as he stroked it his ass bounced a little on the mattress. His eyes were closed, so I knew he didn't see me. I enjoyed the spectacle for a few minutes and then, when I suspected that he might be ready to cum, I burst into the room.
"Hi, little brother!" I exclaimed loudly. "Whatchya doing?"
He jerked his head to look at me, his big brown eyes staring like a deer's caught in the headlights. His mouth gaped open and his jaw moved up and down, but no words came out. He was so flabbergasted that he even stopped jacking off.
I plopped down on the mattress beside him. "Nice dick you got there, Mister Dingus," I said, and I reached out to touch it.
Now, I'm a rising junior at the local state college, so I've seen, and handled, my fair share of dicks. And I must say, Donny's was one of the nicest I'd ever seen. It was almost as long as the span between my outstretched thumb and pinky, and it was big enough around that I could just barely get my thumb and forefinger to make a circle around it. A vein the size of a plump fishing worm ran along the bottom, and the tip glistened from where he had smeared precum all over it.
"Wha ... what are you doing, Darla?" he finally managed to say.
"It's OK, Donny, just relax," I told him.
"Buh ... buh ... whuh?" he stammered.
"Shut up, you little jerk," I said, and pushed him back so he was lying on the mattress.
By now it was my hand, not his, that was jacking him off, and I must say I did it rather masterfully. I learned how to masturbate a boy my freshman year in college. One of my volleyball teammates, a senior, let me practice on her boyfriend while she studied. After you've stroked him for awhile, she taught me, rub his glans with your thumb, back and forth across the rim. Then let your forefinger and middle finger rub the bottom of the helmet while your ring finger and pinky trace up and down the vein. When he seems about to cum, stop until he begs, and I mean really begs, for you to start again. But when you do, stroke him slower than before until he builds up another head of steam. Then grab his stalk in one hand and rub the palm of the other hand all over the tip until he begs you to let him cum. Then let go of his dick, grab his balls and squeeze them tightly until he calms down. When he does, start the process all over again. Some nights she would have me do this to him for hours until he was a whimpering mess. When she was done studying, she would sit on his face and make him eat her pussy while I finished him off. After she came, she would rub her sopping cunt all over his face and make him leave without washing. We always laughed about it afterwards.
"So, little brother, what did you see at the river today?" I asked coyly as I went to work on him.
"Nuh, nothing," he moaned.
