Isabelle Goes To College

Isabelle Goes to College

Her brother seduces her and opens her eyes to sexual pleasures

Warning:

This story contains reluctant sex, first time sex, and exhibitionist sex

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In college I went to a northern school. I wasn't afraid of the cold, and I dressed for it, but I was a little surprised just how long the winter lasted. I'm a modern girl, and I know all about boys, disease, birth control, that No means No, and so on. We had mandatory sex ed in high school, and if anything, I'm a good student.

Nevertheless, I was looking forward to exploring the opposite sex. In high school I hung with my friends. Some of them were boys, sure, but the climate was just not boy-girl stuff. That went on, sure, in my high school. Even in middle school there was a girl who gave a guy a blowjob in the back of the school bus. I sat near the front.

In high school discarded rubbers were easy to find. Plenty of sex was going on all around me, but I was an unmolested island. I'd never been kissed by a boy, except for that one time with my older brother Mathew. I would have given him a lot more, too, had he not been my brother! At least those kisses with Mathew (and having him feel me up through my clothes) gave me a minor introduction to what lay in store for me in college.

I was prepared. I was on the pill, had a dozen condoms with me at all times, and I had secretly bought sexy underwear. I say secretly because if my Mom had found out there'd have been hell to pay! What I was unprepared for were the effects of alcohol.

At the first big party it seemed no boys were interested in me. I hung with some girls and gradually got a bit too inebriated. I came back to my dorm room frustrated and a little depressed.

The same thing happened at the next party I went to. I got more seriously drunk. Dan the Dildo did his best to relieve my frustration when I returned home, but I longed to have a face to associate with Dan the Dildo. Memories of boys from my high school just didn't cut it. Boys in my classes at college were still anonymous faces to me, although one of them had a really sweet ass. He hadn't even been at the party.

What was wrong with me? I was ready to give the boys all the sex they wanted, but they couldn't see it, or they just didn't want what I had to offer. I didn't get it. I thought I was reasonably attractive. There were much prettier and sexier girls about, not enough for all the guys. Surely someone would have the brains to give me a try? Why didn't they?

At the third party I decided to make a study. I didn't drink at all but instead carefully watched the girls to whom boys were flocking. I knew I couldn't become prettier, at least not easily, and I simply wasn't a flirtatious person, the kind who would ooh and aah over anything some stupid guy said, all the while batting my eyelashes.

There was something I could do, however, and that was change my sartorial choices. Some of the girls boys were flocking to were not drop dead gorgeous, and did not do convincing imitations of bimbo bubbleheads. They were themselves. The big difference between them and me, perhaps the only difference, was how they dressed. That, I could do.

By the fourth party I was ready. I was dressed to kill. I called my brother Mathew using Facetime to get a man's input. First, I modeled a pushup bra with a scoop neck blouse, and second, I modeled a thin, almost transparent blouse with no bra. In the former the man would get a gorgeous view of all my boob flesh, right up to but not including my nipples. In the second he would sort of, kind of, see my boobs, nipples, areolas and all. If the lighting was dark, he would still see that my nipples poked at the blouse, and that my boobs had "independent suspension," as Mathew put it.

Mathew also asked to see my boobs himself, using Facetime, but I reminded him that while he may be a horny guy with a wannabe slut of a sister on the phone with him, he was still my brother, and no, he could not see my boobs!

"What if I came to the party and got lucky with you?" he asked.

"You'd really make a two hour drive just to see my boobs? They're just boobs, Mathew. All girls have them," I said.

"It'd be worth it to me," Mathew said.

"Well, don't. Even if you make the two hour drive here, you're still my brother. Sorry, Charlie, no boobs for you, at least from me. There's plenty of sluts here though, and I can point out some of my friends you could probably lay if you want? They'd love an older, handsome, medical student like yourself. It'd be like picking low hanging fruit. I mean, if you want that."

Mathew said he was making the drive. I told him where the party was and the time. He could sleep in my roommate's bed if he wanted to drink and skip the two hour late night drive back to his home. She had basically moved in with her boyfriend, anyway.

I put Mathew out of my mind and dressed to seduce. I went to the party. To go with my suggestive top, I wore a crotch length skirt and two-inch heels. My legs are my best feature and maximum leg was on display. As I walked into the party Mathew greeted me. Even with the two-hour drive, he beat me to the party.

"You look stunning, Isabelle," Mathew said. I smiled back at him. I didn't tell him but he looked sexy. He looked very sexy. Too bad he's my brother, I thought.

"You know sis, let's pretend I'm your date for the party. Other men will notice you more and become interested. Men always notice other men's women," he continued.

That made some kind of vague sense to me, so I agreed. "Okay," I said. "Let's give it a try. Since you're here to protect me, I'm going to drink!" I went over and got us each two glasses of punch. I was fairly new to alcohol.

"One thing. Tonight tell everyone I'm a distant cousin, not your brother. Otherwise, things might look weird," he said.

"Weird how?" I asked.

"Trust me on this. You'll understand as the evening evolves. But to give you an idea, kissing cousins is a trope, whereas kissing siblings is considered incest," he said.

"We're going to kiss?" I asked, remembering how he kissed me in high school and I jilled off to the memory for months. Mathew gave me his answer with his smile.

My girlfriends wanted to know who my hot date was, calling Mathew a hunk. I just told them he's a distant cousin and I'd known him since childhood and his name is Mathew. They all wanted to meet him, and I told them "Later, sure. Let me enjoy him a bit first, okay?"

I began to think maybe Mathew was onto something. It was working in reverse, with the women being interested in him. After a few drinks Mathew pulled me onto the dance floor. "Just go along with everything. I'm going to kiss you and feel you up, and act as if you're enjoying it."

"That won't be hard to do, Mathew. The last time we kissed and you felt me up I masturbated to the memory of it for weeks. By the way if you still want to get laid, I have friends who want to meet you, too. I told them later, okay?"

Mathew and I danced and had fun. I noticed a few men were watching us dance. I tried to make my dancing especially sexy for their benefit. Years of practice in front of a mirror was paying off!

Eventually a slow song came on. Mathew pulled me flush against him, and he began to kiss me. The kisses were intense, and soon we were French kissing and he was rubbing my skin-tight skirt, effectively feeling up my ass. I have a tight ass which Mathew calls a 'bubble ass.' I was getting aroused.

Mathew spun me around and held me in place around my waist, with my back up against his front. I could feel something hard pushing against my ass and I suddenly realized Mathew himself was hard and pressing against me with his cock!

It felt really nice. I'd never had a cock pushed against me before. As far as I knew, I'd never been the inspiration to get a boy hard before, either! I was thrilled. I cursed the gods that Mathew was my bleeping brother.

As we danced and drank and the evening wore on I began once again to get turned on by Mathew's hands and lips. "It's beginning to work, Isabelle. Look behind me at 10 o'clock."

I did. Three guys, good looking guys, too, were staring at me. They had desire in their eyes. They were a short step away from drooling. I was thrilled beyond all reason.

"Follow my lead and don't protest. If you want to react, then groan or moan. If you say, 'Oh, Mathew!' then I'll stop, okay?" Mathew said softly in my ear. I barely heard him.

"Okay," I said. "Is this to make me irresistible to the men you indicated?"

"Them and half the rest of the men at this party," he said.

"It had better be good, then!" I whispered.

"Oh, it will be, honey," he said, and he spun me around so that once again my back was flush to his front, his erect cock was pushing against my ass, and his hands were around my waist.

Mathew shocked me when his hands suddenly went under my blouse and up to my naked boobs. So that's why he didn't want me to go with the push-up bra! He began to fondle my nipples and I actually groaned. It just slipped out, it wasn't intentional. I glanced at the three men I had seen earlier and they were mesmerized, almost drooling.

This was the first time a man had touched my boobs. I was so excited I felt as if my pussy were gushing. And this was all happening with a rapt audience, to boot! What a fabulous turn-on!

Now I had had Sex Ed in high school. First my Mom and Dad gave me books when I was twelve. My Mom is intellectual, and when I turned fourteen she deemed me old enough for me to read the book

Masters and Johnson on Sex and Human Loving

and she gave me that one. I read it cover to cover. What I learned in Sex Ed in high school was about pregnancy and disease.

The upshot was that to my way of thinking, boobs were not a big deal. They were because we had them and men didn't, and society made it unacceptable to show them off. I knew that in times past, it was risqué even to show a bit of leg, and when the pioneering world record swimming champion Annette Kellerman wore a modest (by today's standards) one-piece bathing suit in 1907, she was arrested for indecency. Styles and norms change, but flashing boobs was still a 'no-no' for nice girls despite the valiant attempts of Yves St. Laurent in the 1960s..

Mathew had me turned on something fierce. No man had ever fondled my bare boobs before! Mathew didn't stop, however. He next began to raise my blouse, tantalizingly slowly, so I had plenty of time to stop him. I was about to say something along the lines of "Stop!!" when he turned my head and kissed me.

As we kissed his hands kept raising my blouse, excruciatingly slowly. I made noises through the kisses, trying to say no ("Mmm-Mmm") but the kisses were too good to stop and to vocalize my objections.

Soon we had an audience of quite a few men, including of course the original three I had noticed. Up, up and up my blouse went, little by little, exposing first my belly button, then my midriff, then even more, and then in a sudden jump Mathew pushed it up and over my boobs, so that my blouse collected around my neck. My boobs were exposed to everyone.

Mathew's hands went back to my nipples, and with my blouse bunched up around my neck, everyone could see not only my boobs but also Mathew's hands enjoying them.

The song ended and the music stopped. Mathew said, "Introduce to me to your slutty friends and then I'll leave you to the wolves."

I giggled and pulled my blouse back down and kissed Mathew again, took his hand, and led him to a gaggle of my friends who were thunderstruck by what Mathew had done to me on the dance floor.

"Mandy and Cathy, this is Mathew, my distant cousin." I left him there talking to my starry-eyed friends and I went to get a glass of punch. I got a glass and a guy came up to me and introduced himself as Sam and asked me to dance. I gave him my best smile and he led me to the dance floor. This was the first time a man had asked me to dance. Ever! I silently gave thanks to Mathew.

I danced a few dances with Sam and when a slow dance came on he maneuvered me just as Mathew had done before him. He stuck his hands under my blouse and played with my tits. I guess he figured I'd be okay with that, since I had let Mathew take the exact same liberty.

I was in a panic. Just how much of a slut did I want to be? Letting a guy I didn't even know feel up my bare boobs in public? What kind of signal was I sending to the entire crowd at the dance? I didn't know what to do and being paralyzed with indecision I did nothing, I just let Sam enjoy my boobs in front of everyone, only minutes after Mathew had done the exact same thing!

Even worse, just as I had done with Mathew, I moaned and made no protest at all. Then Sam asked if he could kiss me. "I was hoping you'd ask," I said in a breathy voice that perhaps revealed my state of arousal. We kissed. Sam was the first man besides my brother to kiss me in such a sexy way.

Sam's friends were looking at me with awe, but also the way young men look at a girl who is showing to the world she is a slut. Did I really want this to happen? Too late, I thought. I can't take it back.

I know a guy is supposed to ask permission for a kiss, and Sam had, but really then, shouldn't he have asked permission about my boob fondles, too? I was glad he didn't though, because I hadn't wanted to be asked that. Self-respect would have required me to have said no, and truth be told, I liked what Sam did with his hands. It turned me on.

I figured it's okay to be a slut, as long as you don't act too, too much like a slut. Mathew showing off my boobs to the world, however, and my letting him do so, had in effect kind of outed me as a slut. I guess Sam likes sluts? Well, good for him. Good for me.

Who am I kidding? Sam just wanted to get laid, and a girl like me, who lets men play with her naked boobs in public, seemed like a damn good prospect to put out for Sam, now didn't she?

When Sam's hands tried to gain entry inside my tight skirt however, I said, "Not on the dance floor Sam, in front of everyone. Do you want to walk me back to my room?" Mathew had coached me to say that when a man tried to get his hands below my waist. I was shocked when he said it, and yet, here it was happening!

Both Sam and I knew what I was really saying. Sam gave me a huge smile, the kind a cat gives to a goldfish, I suspect. I saw him wink at his friends. They gave him metaphorical high fives with their eyes and smiles.

Sam and I left together with Mathew and Cathy. I knew Cathy was the sluttier of the two girls, and Mathew continued to surprise me by how smart and perceptive he is. He was going to have a good time tonight; I could see it in Cathy's body language. Everyone could see it.

I then realized that Sam was planning to have a 'good time' with me, too! It was obvious in his body language as well. Then to my horror I realized it was obvious to everyone at the dance from my own body language that Sam was going to have a good time, too. He would have a very good time!

Sam's expectations of me were not dimmed by the fact that his hands were all over me as we walked in the dark night air (there was a new moon) back to my dorm. I did nothing to stop his hands having free range over my body, just like the chickens my mother always cooks.

My roommate was away, and Cathy said her roommate was "getting busy" with her boyfriend, so the four of us went to my dorm room, the dominating feature of which was two twin beds. There were also two small desks, and two small bureaus, but if you want a place to sit, it's the desk chairs or the beds.

My brother Mathew and Cathy took my roommate's bed, and Sam and I took my bed. That's when Mathew surprised me yet again. He said, "Hey Sam, want to see which girl kisses better?"

Cathy giggled in response, so I did too.

I knew this was a ploy of Mathew to trade Cathy for me. He was still after me, even when a pretty girl like Cathy was there for the plucking. He really did want me. I had to face it: My own brother wanted to fuck me. How was I going to handle this?

Sam and I joined Cathy and my brother on my roommate's bed, and Sam began kissing Cathy, and Mathew kissed me. The kissing got hot and heavy and at one point Mathew took off my blouse, once again exposing my boobs. This was a boob exposure however, in a fairly intimate setting. Sam then removed Cathy's dress and also her bra. Suddenly Cathy was only in panties.

"Shall we switch back now?" Sam asked, and the two men did. Some more passionate kissing and plenty of play with my boobs and Sam removed my skirt and also my panty hose. I had to help him with the hose, so they wouldn't get a run. Now both of us girls were down to our panties, and we were kissing our men with passion.

"One more switch?" Mathew asked. I knew panties would be the next to go, and if they switched it would mean Mathew would be fucking me, and Sam would be fucking Cathy. Mathew had to realize that, too. Did he really want to fuck me, his own sister? The answer seemed clearly to be yes, I just couldn't face it.

Whichever man got to fuck me, and I knew I was going to get fucked, he would be my first. I no longer had a hymen: Dan the Dildo had taken care of that, but I was still a virgin. Who did I want to be my first? Not my bleeping brother!

"I want to stay with Sam," I said.

"Works for me," Cathy said, and she lifted her hips as Mathew slowly removed her panties.

Sam put his hand down my panties and began to finger me magically. I was lucky because Sam knew his way around a girl. I forgot about Mathew and Cathy as Sam's fingers began to work true magic in my pussy. Wow. Soon my panties were off too, and a man was gazing at my vagina for the first time in my life. I was blushing furiously, but soon Sam and I heard Cathy moaning from the other bed.

We turned and looked and the world stopped. Cathy was on her hands and knees and Mathew was behind her. I had watched enough porn to know exactly what they were doing. We had a dog when I was little, a cute little bitch she was, and when she was in heat I would watch her get fucked by any male dog in the neighborhood who wanted her, and that was -- basically -- all of them!

Our dog was a slut, giving it away to any other dog who wanted her, which it seemed was every male dog. At my tender age at the time if seemed natural. It seemed to be nature's way. I wonder if that formative experience had taught me the 'wrong' lesson?

Cathy's boobs bounced around beneath her as my brother's cock pushed her back and forth on the bed. I had never seen Cathy's boobs before this memorable evening and I had to admit her boobs were lovely. They were not too big, but big enough to please even the most mammary oriented man. I confess that I was jealous. My own boobs couldn't compare to hers.

My very own brother was fucking my friend right in front of me. Sam and I stopped our own amorous activities and just watched. It may be a metaphysical question, but trying to decide who was enjoying the fuck more -- the fucker or the fuckee -- just then seemed like a question that's impossible to answer. The look of bliss on Cathy's face was amazing! I was kind of surprised that my own brother Mathew could bring such ecstasy to another human being. Wow.

It's rare I suppose to watch two people fuck right in front of you. They were not being discreet. For example, they could have gone under the sheets, and my guess is Cathy didn't really have to moan out her pleasure. Mathew didn't really have to slap her ass so hard while he was fucking her, either. After each big thunderclap of a slap Cathy would produce a moan, or sometimes it was more of a groan.

When Cathy came it was obvious. Meg Ryan in

When Harry Met Sally

could not have given a better simulation of an orgasm, although I strongly suspect Cathy was not faking it. Had she been she would have sure fooled me! My goodness. Shortly after, Mathew too must have cum, because he stopped pumping into her and just froze with his cock inside her, buried to the hilt.