There I was, lying nude on my bed, posing for my little brother's camera.
It had all started innocently with a few bathing-suit shots. He was really quite good at photography, and that was how it had progressed to him coaxing me to pose in my underwear. The pictures made good use of shadow and color, and the poses were natural and sexy, but not overtly so. And he was kind and flattering, and it made me feel beautiful in a way I never had before.
So when he urged me to take off first my bra and then eventually my panties, which by then had a telltale wet spot, I did it, but only after tugging down his shorts and his boxers to expose the erection that I could easily see.
When we stopped for a break, I resisted the sudden urge to touch his impressive manhood, and instead I had asked him a question. Taking both of my breasts in my hands, I said, "you make yourself come, sometimes, don't you?"
"Huh?" Was all he could answer, and he was blushing deeply again. His erection remained insistent and firm.
"You heard me, little brother. And I already know the answer. I know you masturbate when you're alone in your room. Sometimes I can hear ... you know ... noises." Again, I played my fingers across the tops of my inner thighs, suggesting the things I might do down there with my own hands.
"Everyone does that," was his response.
It was not enough for me. "You didn't answer my question. I know everyone does it. I want you to look me in the eye and admit to me that you masturbate." I rolled over onto my stomach and propped up my chin in my hand. He started to take more pictures of my bare backside, so I reached up and took the camera from him.
"Go on, say it," I insisted.
"Y-yes," he stammered.
"Yes, what?"
"Yes, I ... I make myself come sometimes."
"There, you've said it. Now, isn't that better?" He just nodded.
