Sisters Art Ch 01

This is not my first attempt at a story like this, but it is my first entry to this awesome website. All feedback is welcome. Hope you like it.

***

It was a nice fall day in about the second month of school. I remember because I still didn’t know anyone at my new school. We had moved to the new school so that my mother could teach at the local community college and my sister could attend it at a family rate. Unfortunately I was still in high school. I didn’t think of it this at the time, but it’s a lot harder to be the new guy at a high school than at a college. On the positive side though, I knew it was my last year and I would be moving on soon, probably to the same college that the rest of my family was connected with in some form or another.

Home life for me really didn’t change that much when I switched schools. I spent most of my time on my computer either playing video games or trying to write stories. Moving to the new house just meant that I didn’t have Internet yet and all my gaming buddies were far away. I suppose having my own space in the new house and not sharing my room with my sister almost made up for everything. Not to say that I don’t love my sister, but it’s a little easier to get along with someone if you are not stuck together all the time.

My sister is pretty much the opposite of me. I like to call her the other side of the coin. While she is artistic and takes after my mother, I am more of an analytical type and like math and computers more than painting and emotions. I’ve been told that I take after my father, but when I was about eight he had a breakdown and he mostly just hides in his room with his computer. We’ve all gotten pretty good at just going on as if he’s not there. At first it was like the elephant in the room, but we all adjusted in time. I think for all of us, it was hardest for my mother. She has to be one of the most affectionate people I have ever met. She loves close hugs and kisses. There isn’t a day that goes by that she doesn’t tell me and my sister how much we mean to her. From what I heard, before my father had his breakdown, he was only marginally affectionate, but now he’s pretty much a rock. He stays up all night on his computer, sleeps all day, and most days he doesn’t even change out of his pajamas.

My mother is one of those ladies who always pushes her way through things. If something comes along that bothers her but she can’t do anything about it, she’ll find something else to pour her energy and frustration into. In this case when my father collapsed, she went through this manic craft phase, the worst part of which was the pastel jump suits. My mother, in trying to save money, time and whatever else, made for all of us these pastel jumpsuits. They were all one piece, machine washable, durable and in all senses of the word, unbearable. She figured that we could wear these around the house and only wear our “nice” clothes when we went somewhere. I don’t think that mine or my sister’s suits ever saw the light of day, but my mother to this day wears them. She even goes shopping in them.

The reason that I remember this fall better than any other, wasn’t just because we moved, I’d have to say the big reason is that my sister had started art class. She had taken art classes before, but this one was different. It was a college art class. This meant that they had a wider variety of medium and topics to cover. They weren’t limited to just painting or sculpture, and there was no taboo. In fact, they were encouraged to think beyond limits that they had been given before and explore things that they hadn’t been allowed to previously.

The day my sister came home with her first big project was a big day for her and my mother. They used to work together and play off each other a lot. For me, this was totally alienating. I had no mind for the kind of brain storming free thought that they loved to get into. I needed to have concrete goals and objectives.

“I want to do something with varying shades of indigo…” my sister started out.

“What medium are you going to use?” My mother probed her.

“Hmm, I’ve never tried using plaster molds on a wire frame…I’ll bet we could…”

At this point, I knew well enough where this was going and I quickly excused myself from the room. I knew what would happen next, my mother would open a bottle of wine, and then they would put on some crazy African drum music. In the end they would have sticky notes and lists of random words pasted all over each other. I got out before they wanted me to join their trip to crazy.

I closed my door when I got to my room. I hate African drums. The best answer to that for me was to bury myself in a game and ignore the frantic free flow taking place outside my door.

About an hour after I had fled the scene, I heard my sister knock on the door. When I opened the door, she was standing there with her forearms together and her hands in points toward her mouth.

“I know you don’t like this stuff, but I just have a small favor to ask you. It won’t take long, and I promise I won’t but you again for a really long time,” the really taking a few extra seconds.

“Don’t build up to it so much, just ask me. I hate when you build things up like that.”

“I want to make a plaster mold of you for my project.”

“Why me?”

“Because I want a few male parts and mom and I don’t have them.”

“Wait a damn minute. You want to make a mold of my ….” Pointing downward.

“It won’t hurt, and I won’t tell anyone whose it is. It’ll be between you and me.”

“OK, now I know you’ve gone over the edge. Have you started taking drugs?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll practice on something else, and when I do it, it won’t hurt or even take long. I need it for my project though…”

“Aww man…”

She pleaded, bringing her arms in and folding over.

“How long will it take.” I said with a defeated tone.

“Only a half hour max.”

“What do I get for all this?”

“Hmm…what do you want?”

“I want to borrow your car more often.”

“Damnit, I was hoping you wouldn’t think of that.”

“Well, what’s it going to be?”

“Ok, I’ll need you for about an hour tomorrow night.”

“You said a half an hour!!!”

“That’s just the procedure, there is some prep time involved.”

“This isn’t going to get dragged out like the paper mache head project is it?”

“No, it can’t. That reminds me…are you going to be able to, you know…hold out?”

“I didn’t think of that.”

“Well, I’ll bring some ‘visual aids’ and we’ll see how it works from there.” My sister said visual aids in such a casual way that at first it didn’t even dawn on me what she was referring to.

The next night, I came into her room. She was wearing rubber gloves, porn was playing on the TV and there was a jar of Vaseline on the table. This was no less than a fantasy. Had the girl been anyone but my sister, I would have suspected something was going on.

“Ok, I get the porn, and the gloves, but why the Vaseline?”

“Well, if you don’t put it on first, the plaster will stick to your skin and you don’t want that…”

“Ok, sold, but I’m going to put it on.”

“Duh, I’m your sister, not a hooker.”

“Look, I feel weird enough about this. You’re not going to get all goofy and stuff when I get it out, are you?”

“No, I’m not going to get all goofy and stuff. I can’t say that I’ve seen that many, but I’ve seen enough in art that I will be able to approach it like an artist and not a man hungry whore.”

“I don’t even mean that, I just mean that I don’t want to hear any jokes or giggles.”

“Purely professional.”

I pulled my shorts down and sat on the lawn chair that she had brought in. I wasn’t hard yet because I was just too nervous. “I’m going to have to get it going, do you mind turning away?”

“You need to put on the Vaseline anyways. I’m going to check to see that you put in on thoroughly, but I’ll give you a minute to do it.”

I took the jar and smeared some on my hand. I looked over at the TV and started to concentrate on the screen. As I rubbed the Vaseline onto my prick and realized that it wasn’t so bad, it became easier.

“Ok, ready for inspection?”

“Yeah, just don’t block the screen. I need to concentrate for this.”

“Now look who the professional is.”

She leaned over and grabbed the head lightly with two fingers nodding with approval. As I tried to keep focused, she turned around and got her bucket of plaster.

“I’m going to start now.” She took the first clump of plaster and placed it on my cock right on the leading edge. As she smoothed the plaster over my, it became hard to separate what I was watching and thinking from what she was doing. I began to throb and I think she noticed. My eyes closed as I tried not to cum from her delicate fondling which I knew to her was no more than business. She started to pack the plaster padding it lightly with her hands. I felt as if I was just inches away from exploding and blowing the plaster right off.

“Ok, done. Now just lie there for 20 minutes while the plaster sets. Stay focused or else it won’t dry right, know what I mean?”

“I got it.” I said that I got it but the truth is that I was just barely there. All the blood had gone to my head and thoughts were swimming that I didn’t remember putting there. My blood was up and I felt like steam could have been coming off my body.

After my sister’s alarm went off, she came back into the room and removed the hardened shell from my member. She didn’t say a word the whole time. She had a sort of distant look in her face. It seemed to me at the time as if she had started to get a little effected by the whole thing and she was fighting to keep her façade up.

That night I had to relieve the pressure that had built up during the time with my sister. It had never occurred to me before how good it would feel for her to touch me like that. She was my sister, but at the same time, she was a woman and a very attractive one at that. I tried hard that night not to think of her as I was stroking myself, but the more I thought about her, the better it felt. It was as if she had something that no other woman had. I couldn’t put a finger on it, but it was there. Something about the idea of her was so exciting to me that I didn’t care about the taboo thought of her, I just wanted to feel her touch on my penis again. That night was one of the most intense orgasms of my life.

***

Over the course of the next week, things between my sister and me grew a little uncomfortable. When we were in the same room, we would both get quiet as if we knew that something was wrong but we were both trying to ignore it. I would make an obvious attempt to start a conversation and that would only make it worse. After the seventh day, I finally decided to do something about it. I walked over to my sister’s door and knocked lightly. From the laughing, I could tell that she was in there with my mother.

“Come in…”

“Are you crazy mom? Don’t you care?”

“It’s nothing really. He won’t even want to see.”

I pushed the door open and got the surprise of my life. My mother was sitting upright on a barstool with her pastel jumpsuit unzipped and her chest completely exposed. Her enormous breasts were jutting out beautifully from her chest. Her nipples were a little larger and darker than I would have guessed and when she turned to look at me, her breasts swayed and jiggled for a few seconds after her head had turned.

“I…uh…”

As I looked closer I saw that there was a slight sheen to her tits, and that’s when I noticed the jar of Vaseline on the table next to my sister’s plaster materials. All of a sudden it made total sense to me and the world seemed to come back into focus.

“Sis I just came in to talk to you, but I can catch you later. You’re busy.”

“It’s ok. If mom doesn’t mind, I mean, it’s her boobies hanging out… Do you mind mom?”

“If he wants to see my saggy old boobs, I’d be surprised. Besides, they’ll be covered soon won’t they?”

I was trying to ignore my mother’s magnificent, imposing tits pointing toward me as I was trying to form coherent thoughts and sentences. “Sis, the thing is…I mean…It just seems to me that…”

While I was stumbling and looking like a pervert and an idiot, my sister was taking large handfuls of plaster and spreading over my mother’s mammaries. “I’ll talk to you later. It can wait.”

I went back to my room and locked the door. Wow, first my sister and now my mother. I didn’t ever intend to get so turned on by my own family. A week ago, I would never have thought it possible to be so turned on by these two women I had known for my whole life. Now, however, I was having the best orgasms of my life thinking of them in ways they had no idea about. That night I had an orgasm thinking of my mother. The thought of taking a shower with her and washing her soft voluptuous body was more than my cock could take. I came so hard I almost rolled off the bed.

***

The next day I approached my sister about the strange silence between us. “I think things have gotten a little strange between us.”

“Yeah I kind of feel that too…” She seemed a little relieved to talk about it.

“Maybe if we went out and just had some ice cream…you know, just talked about it.”

“Let me tell mom and I’ll get my purse.”

We drove to the ice cream parlor without saying a word. I looked out my window, she watched the road. My main reason for looking away was that with my new outlook, I couldn’t help looking at her breasts, and to make things worse, she was wearing a tank top and no bra today.

When we arrived at the ice cream shop, there was a sign that said closed for renovations. We looked at it and both sighed at the same time.

She started out, “well, can we just talk in the car?”

“I’m fine with that. Do you want to start?”

“You invited me. I hoped that you knew where to start.”

I ran my hand over my mouth. “There seems to be this strange air between us since the plaster incident. I don’t know what your feelings on it are, but I’ve taken a lot of time to figure out what I think about it.” I paused and let the silence settle it for a bit. “I can speak for myself and say that I was very excited by the whole thing. I didn’t plan on it, I mean, I didn’t go in wanting to get jollies off my own sister, but I couldn’t help it. You are a woman, a very attractive one too. Maybe if I had a girlfriend, I wouldn’t have been so starved for contact and it wouldn’t have affected me like that. What I’m saying is that as far as it goes, I was turned on because I was being touched. It wasn’t about you. You are still just my wonderful, caring, and crazy eccentric sister.” I was lying through my teeth. I hadn’t separated anything. I was still confused, and I wanted her to touch me again like that. The wall that I was putting up was just an attempt to get her to relax so that we could go back to the way things were. I mostly just didn’t want things to change.

She sat there and pondered what I had said. There seemed to be a look of relief in her eyes though as she spoke, “I felt very bad about what I had done. At first I took it very lightly, almost as a joke. After a bit though, I realized that what I was doing was touching my brother in a way I wasn’t sure if he wanted. I felt like I had invaded your space and made you do something you didn’t want to. I just felt dirty.”

“No, I didn’t mind, sis. I mean I consented in the first place, and secondly, who wouldn’t want attention from you. It just took me a bit of thought to separate the pleasure from the experience.”

The drive back was much more pleasant and there was a relieved feeling between us. We didn’t talk to each other, we just knew things were ok. When we arrived home my sister parked the car and we both headed inside. I unlocked the front door and my sister walked in.

“Do you want to ask mom about getting some movies tonight and having some snacks?”

“Cool, let’s go ask her.”

We both climbed the stairs, my sister in front. Mom’s door was closed, and I was about to knock when my sister just opened it. I looked at her about to ask if mother might want her privacy but her face just froze. Following her gaze to my mother’s bed, my face must have frozen as well. After a second of taking in what we were looking at, we both blurted out the same thing.

“What are you doing with my penis?”

Mother stopped shoving the plaster penis into her wet, shaven hole and dropped it in cold shock. First she looked at me, and then she looked at my sister. “HE was your model?”

My sister just stood there stunned. There were too many thoughts in her head that were never going to make it to her mouth. One of the thoughts, the one that we were all probably having in unison, my mother blurted out for us.

“Oh my god, you mean that I have been masturbating using…” She left the sentence hanging, but we all knew the end.

“Why are you using my stuff in the first place? Can’t you just buy one like every other woman?”

“I never intended to, I just saw it there. It looked so nice and hard. You can’t blame me for it catching my eye.”

“But did you have to shove it into your pussy mom?”

“Ok, I got carried away. Believe me, if I had known that it was my own son’s penis, I would not have been using it like that.”

The whole scene of my mother using my penis to jack off had thrown my head for a spin to such a degree that I couldn’t hear any more of the conversation. All I could think about was her ramming my cock into herself, moaning and enjoying every inch of me. Knowing that she got that much pleasure from my prick not only made me proud, but made me want to give her the real thing. I knew she wasn’t thinking the same things, but I wanted so badly to tell her that if she did, I would let her do anything she wanted to with my cock.

The conversation ended with neither of them wanting the plaster penis. My mother threw it in her garbage and my sister walked out complaining about having to do it over. I followed her to her room and offered to help her. She was concerned that it would get weird again, but I assured her that we had worked it out this time and that it wouldn’t be a problem.

The plaster breasts that were made from my mother’s tits were sitting in my sister’s room when I went for the second plaster session. They caught my eye as soon as I entered the room.

“Do you just want those? Or should I use the same viewing selection as last time.”

“Same as last time will do fine thanks.” I said in a mocking tone. “However, you do have to admit that she has very nice breasts for her age.”

“You like mom’s tits?”

“Why not? I mean aside from the fact that she’s my mother. If I were to just be walking down the street and see those, they would definitely turn my head.”

“Why don’t you tell her, I’m sure that she’d be flattered.”

“Yeah, the next time her boobs come up in conversation, I’ll make sure and mention that I think they’re great.”

“Maybe I should go and tell her that she should be doing this, you two seem to be headed for each other.” My sister paused as if she had gotten shy for a second. “Did you like that at all? I mean, when we walked in on her.”

“That was a little too weird.” I lied.

I had already taken off my shorts and laid back on the lawn chair. My sister, without even stopping, took a glob of the Vaseline and started applying it to my already hard cock. The conversation with my sister over my mother’s tits was enough to get me near climax. My sister stroking my cock with Vaseline was the last straw.

“Shit, you have to warn me.” I said as I blew my load all over my sister’s hand and shirt.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe that just happened.” My sister put her hands in the air and looked down at the cum that had landed on her shirt. “I wasn’t even thinking, I just started putting the Vaseline on as if it was anything else. I should have asked or at least been more careful. Oh, damnit, I’ve ruined my project.”