Double or Nothing

So there we were, my brother and me, late one fine summer morning. We were stretched out on lounge chairs on the deck behind our parents' house, sheltered from view by the house itself and, on the other side, by the woods at the edge of the back yard.

I figured that the most unusual part of this quiet scene was that my jeans and little feminine panties lay in a bundle on the deck beside me, leaving me totally bare from my waist, down my soft naked thighs, and all the way down to my toes. More nude even than that, actually, because I had pulled my shirt up over my belly a little bit, too, the way that I remembered my younger brother had asked me to do once before.

My legs were wickedly and carelessly apart and my little brother was sitting in just the right place to enjoy this display. The wispy triangle of curly blonde hair that I had exposed between my legs did absolutely nothing to hide my private place from his view. I had never been this bare for him before. And, oh yes, make no mistake, he was viewing it, the eyeful I was giving him of the moist, vertical slit of my girl parts in front of him.

For his part, meanwhile, my brother was completely naked, every bit of him, head to toe. That, too, was a first for us. A pair of red running shorts lay on the deck a few feet away from him, where he had tossed them casually away, leaving them forlornly on the deck beyond his reach. Absolutely the only thing on him at that moment was the rather substantial quantity of his own semen that had streamed there just moments before as he finished what he had asked me to let him do that morning: he had asked me if he could once again pleasure himself to his climax while I watched.

And yes, make no mistake, I had been watching, as he touched and rubbed his erection until he had shot his sperm out so forcefully that it had spouted up against him and nearly even reached his own mouth.

His fluid now lay in streaks and pools that stretched from the end of his softening penis, across his belly and chest, until drops of it touched his neck and his jaw near his left ear. Some of it, near the sides of his chest, was starting to run in milky little rivulets down his bare skin, while a fair amount of the thick cloudy liquid was pooling on his belly.

I suspected that he might have liked to get up just about then and go inside the house to clean himself. I, on the other hand, was letting my own racing desire for release get the better of me, and I had taunted him with the same "double or nothing" dare that had now essentially become the name for our illicit and incestuous little game of show and squirt.

Oops! Did I say "squirt"? I meant show and tell.

This time, to tempt him, I had slid one hand down my belly and let one finger brush idly at the tops of my sparse blonde pubes, teasingly close to my swollen and tender girl things, hinting that I might go farther and touch them under his gaze. It was a place I knew I could never have gone while he watched, but I offered that to him anyway.

At least I had his attention. To my suggestion of another "double or nothing," he had replied, "what do you have in mind?" not taking his eyes from my indecently displayed inner thighs.

I was so nervous right then that I was afraid my voice would quiver. But I knew what I wanted and I made myself say the words.

"OK," I began slowly, and I paused to see his response.

"I will do it in front of you, little brother, right here and now. Do you think you would like that? If your big sister masturbated out here on the deck for you, and came in front of you?"

"Oh, yeah!" There was real enthusiasm in his voice, and I expected nothing less.

"OK, but, you have to do exactly as I tell you."

I don't know just what he thought I was going to make him do for this, but apparently his hormones were thoroughly in control of his 19-year-old male body even though he had just had a rather massive orgasm from his own hand while his older sister had watched him do it.

"Anything," he replied. "Just say it."

The tragic flaw of man, I thought. Oh, the nasty things I could make him do to fulfill that unqualified vow.

"OK," I said again very slowly.

I moved both hands to the tops of my thighs and began rubbing my smooth skin there, without actually touching the moist part of me that desperately needed my attention. I took in a deep breath through my nose, and I settled down farther in the lounge chair, all to give him the not-entirely-false impression that my gentle hand movements were already sending sexual charges inside of me.

I waited for him to look up and I looked him in the eye and I said as firmly as I could, "I want you to touch your cum."

He gave me a surprised and quizzical look that quickly changed to a sort of "just that?" shrug, and he reached up with his left hand and un-self-consciously touched one of the smaller streams of his climax that clung near the base of his ribs. He rubbed the liquid into his skin.

His eyes returned to the place where my hands were sliding down and caressing the tops of my thighs. A quiet "Mmmmm" escaped from me as I wanted and needed to encourage him to accept my next little wish. That wish was a deeply dirty idea that would take him to the very edge of his will, I was sure.

He waited to hear my instruction.

I screwed up my courage and took the next step. "Let me see you taste it for me."

A pause. I knew this was too much to ask. I knew that he would not do it any more than I could bring myself to let him watch me lie there and pleasure myself with my own hand. But my arousal was speaking in place of me.

"Oh, Jesus, sis, you're going to think I'm gay," he replied, removing his hand from his ribs.

"Jordan. Little brother. I know you're not gay. Trust me on this." This seemed to relax him a little, and his hand drooped closer to his ribs again. My breathing grew heavier and my words remained steady and slow. "And well, why, if girls can swallow that stuff, you know, like you want us to, then, why can't you? It's only fair, don't you think? Even if it's only once?"

This notion that some things were "only fair" was in essence the very same reason that my own pants were all the way off here, right now, in the backyard with him, and why they had been down around my knees the last time, out in the woods by the golf course. I was sure he must certainly have understood that.

"Just taste a little bit of it and I'll make myself... um, I'll have an orgasm with you, just for you, right here. Right now." I drew and released another deep breath of pent-up desire.

After a long hesitation, while I wondered if I had taken our game too far, he finally moved his hand slowly back toward himself and tentatively scooped up a little bit of the liquid that was all over his chest, collecting some onto the middle finger of his left hand, and then drawing it up, he moved it toward his lips.

Then he stopped and blushed so cutely, and looking at me with a raised eyebrow, he inched his finger with its dab of his own fresh semen toward his face. I figured he needed another soft "Mmmm" of encouragement from me, so I slid my hands back along the tops of my thighs toward, but not touching, my needy little wet place, and I gave him one.

God, I was getting so wet and I was wishing so hard I didn't have this problem, the problem that I had such need but at the same time I couldn't let him see me doing what I wanted so badly to do with myself. My breathing quickened and my nostrils flared.

He saw my arousal and, apparently wanting to get his part over with, he quickly dipped his finger finally into his mouth, closed his lips around it, and then withdrew it. The finger emerged from his mouth, glistening with little more than saliva. A thin string of moisture followed it and then broke and fell back to his lips. The visible drop of cum that had been carried on his finger just a moment before was gone. He had done it. He had placed his own cum inside of his mouth for me.

A swirl of feelings passed through my body. I had just gotten my little brother to strip naked and masturbate right in front of me, and to deposit his considerable orgasm right there onto himself, and then to taste a nasty drop of his own cum while he knew I was watching his display. And I had not yet so much as touched anything on myself more private than the barest edge of my pubes and the tops of my thighs.

He looked down at my hands where they rubbed against feminine skin, but it was skin that would have been visible at any pool in a bikini; and seeing me touch no more than I could give for him just then, he looked up at me as if to say, "it's your turn."

I had promised to pleasure myself in front of him, all the way to my own orgasm, and dear God did I need to attend to my needs right then, but I still could not bring myself to touch myself like that, to show him how I knew to make love to myself in my own private place, not right there outside in front of him. I willed my hands with all my heart to begin touching myself at long last in that intimate way for him, but my hands just refused to obey.

I was desperate for a release, but apparently I was just as desperate to keep my own sacred and most secret privacy.

And then I remembered that I had made my brother promise to do anything I told him, in exchange for letting him have this most dirty delight from his sister. So I prepared to command him one last time.

"Jordan, you have to do one more thing for me, or I just can't do this."

"Anything, sis, I promise."

As if to demonstrate his sincerity, he rubbed another glob of his ejaculate from his messy stomach onto his finger and moved it up to his mouth, this time reaching out his tongue slowly, his eyes watching me all the while, and he made a show for me of slowly and thoroughly cleaning it off.

When he was done with this lewd display, he made sure that I could tell that he had swallowed himself.

As he had intended, his courage enabled me to go on.

I absorbed what he had just shown me and I screwed up my courage and I stammered, "OK, when I'm ... doing it, you can't... you can't look at me down there. I just can't... I just can't do it if you watch me like that. So I need you to... I want you to look me in the eye and you have to just keep looking me in the eye and nowhere else, until I'm done." My cheeks flushed so hot, I couldn't believe I was saying these things to my brother.

I was so worried that this would be a deal-breaker for him, that he would have been so intent on openly and finally getting to watch his big sister please herself with her hand right there, on full display in front of him, seeing my fingers lewdly playing and strumming and perhaps even parting and probing inside my own naked sex, that he would refuse my final request. I was so afraid, but I just didn't know what else we could do.

My hands were frozen, still, at the tops of my bare thighs, and my arousal was near unbearable, and that desire controlled me so much that I feared I would just reach down and cross that line and do a thing to myself in full view of him that I would forever regret. I redoubled my will and locked my eyes with his, and waited.

He made me wait with my insistent need forever. Then, he spoke.

"Is that all?" he smiled. "I can do that for my big sister." He gently smiled and then actually stood up, and not having cleaned himself, I could see that this movement sent the parts of his semen that were still liquid on his skin running in new little rivulets down towards his waist. He adjusted his lounge chair so that his head was even with my waist, and I realized that this change would remove my secret place from even his peripheral view. Then he adjusted the back of his chair upward so that his face would be closer to mine.

He was doing everything he could to make clear that he would leave me the space to be private with my touching of myself.

Sitting back down, he returned his eyes to mine, and holding them there determinedly, he softly said, "now, make some magic for yourself."

The thrill of the wickedness of what I was prepared to do then raced from somewhere in the center of me out to my genitals and my breasts, and from there to my shoulders and thighs. My face flushed hot, and my hands slowly slid inward to massage my waiting place. I looked into his eyes, and seeing him watching me then, keeping his promise, I let my hands increase the pressure below, indirectly causing the most delicious waves of sensation to pulse inwards, into my desperately neglected sex.

I guess I would call the little plaintive sound that escaped involuntarily from my throat just then a purr, as I allowed myself to touch and enjoy and enjoy and touch and caress myself all the while that my little brother, totally naked in his own right, sat back in his chair a few feet away from me and gazed into my eyes. He was steadfast in not breaking contact with me as I continued doing the unthinkable things I was enjoying, sharing the unshareable touches I was having with my hands down in the moist place between my legs, down where he did not see.

As I stared back into his eyes, I could smell his breath and my moistness together mixing there in the still morning air. I dared not think whether he, too, knew that he could inhale just then and smell his big sister's aching sexual need. I knew that I was hiding the motions of my hands from him but I also knew as warmth spread upwards from my chest that he could see the results of my gentle touching painted indecently on my face as I slipped into a trance of my own pleasure. He knew what I was doing. He knew what I was feeling. He knew what was going to come.

Had I been alone in the dark in my room with no one to observe or hear, I would have breathed out words to tell the night how good this touching felt, but even these little private sounds I could not share with anyone, so out on the deck with my brother so close I was left with only jagged breaths, and these, too, I would have controlled if I could.

But by then, I was no longer in control, and instead I was controlled by the lust and the sinful pleasure that was rising inside of me, all over me, and most sinfully of all, the pleasure that was growing because of me. I returned to that raw moment enough to assure myself that my brother was still looking in my eyes -- and he was -- and then I was no longer aware of my hands and my soft place as distinct parts of me, as they moved with such desire against each other.

I was just a glowing thing of sex and electric delight and it got brighter and warmer and stronger and I was staring furiously at him sitting there nude across from me and finally I crashed into the black hole of an orgasm so powerful that every muscle in my body clenched and released and it went on and on again as the climax washed over and through me and I was suddenly crying, sobbing uncontrollably in my shame and my lust and my joy and my thrill and my pride as I looked straight into my brother's eyes.

Yes, that's right, my pride.

Pride. For I had at last, never believing I could do it, matched my brother's sexual courage, lying there nude from my belly to my toes, outside on the deck in our yard, with him beside me; I had gone and displayed the most intimate thing a girl could possess, an orgasm of her own creation. I had matched my brother's brazen sensual courage, or, I confessed to myself, I had come pretty damned close.

When he saw my sudden tears, Jordan moved towards me. It was his brotherly instinct to comfort my tears, I'm sure.

"No!" I blurted out.

"Don't! You're all sticky!" I warned him, laughing now through my sobs, and I involuntarily raised a hand and a leg to prevent him from taking me in a brotherly and semen-complicated hug.

Hearing my laugh, he drew back but kept his eyes, now wide, locked on mine. "Uh, hey, are you OK?" he whispered to me, with soft, genuine concern in his voice as I wept and laughed and tried at the same time to collect myself. "Oh yeah," I breathed in response. Oh yeah. I was OK, all right.

I lay back and played my hands across my bare belly, with an immense feeling of contentment and pride, and I looked over and smiled with warm affection at the greatest little brother in the world, and I discreetly dangled one hand over the side of my lounge chair until I secretly found a piece of my inside-out jeans and panties, clasping them; and readying myself, I gave my naked little brother a reassuring look, just before I cried:

"First dibs on the shower!" and with that, I ran toward the kitchen door.