Clarification: All characters in the sex scenes described in this work of this work of fiction are above the legal age of consent in your state or country.
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The afternoon sun shone on the sidewalks and hedges of Ambleside Close, Albany, in Livingstone county, illuminating the windows and front doors of the detached houses which circled around the small patch of grass that added a touch of green to the grey tarmac and sidewalk Alison lay stretched out on her bed in just one of the bedrooms overlooking the parked SUVs and MPVs parked either by the sideways or in the drives. The television in her room was on, as always, broadcasting the image of a pneumatic teen warbling a pop song of undistinguished quality and even less depth. But saccharine soul was not where her mind was. Mom and Pop were away and Alison was wondering how in the circumstances she could best play.
Her slacks and pants were pulled down to her ankles and her tee-shirt pulled up over her small pale breasts, while one hand stroked a nipple and the fingers of the other gently massaged the small clitoris just growing in receptiveness in the smooth hairless crevices of her vagina. It felt so warm in there, she thought, as her fingers traced around the tight folds and probed into the tight confines of her slit. Her mind wandered with the rhythm of her fingers, while a squadron of young girls and boys gyrated and swivelled on the television screen with the passion of clockwork toys, and words of love, romance and passion coloured the over-produced beat of audio wallpaper. Occasionally, Alison's eyes caught a glimpse of the broad, hairless torsos of the boys as they shimmied and scissored to the candy-coated rhythm, feeling ever so much more passionate as she thought of the dicks hidden in the crotch of their tight denims.
Normally, she'd have been more circumspect, but, hey fuck! it was the summer holidays and the parents were out at some reunion in Fordham county and they weren't due back until real late. If you can't pull down your pants and probe the pussy when you've got the place virtually to yourself, well, when can you? After all, a girl's got to learn the best way she can. And anyway, soon there'd be college and exams and careers and then there'd be no chance.
"Hey, sis! You ain't seen my Bon Jovi album, have you?" suddenly shouted Alan, pushing open the door and not at first recognising or understanding what he was seeing. His younger sister looked up startled. She'd thought Alan had gone out or something. What was he doing there?
And then belatedly, it occurred to her what her older brother was staring at with his mouth wide open and a can of Dr Pepper in one hand. She was still stroking her pussy and the lumps of her breast, as wide-eyed and open-mouthed, Alan's acned face framed itself in the hallway door.
"What the fuck are you doing?" He gasped.
Alison was enjoying the impression she was making on her brother. She'd never really thought of him as a boy as such, any more than he'd probably ever thought of her as a girl, but it occurred to her that like the men whose pictures she'd so often surreptitiously examined on the Internet, Alan must have a dick hidden under those baggy khaki shorts of his.
"What do you think I'm doing?" she replied, not even pretending to stop, for the first time pushing a whole finger into her little pussy, gasping slightly from the pressure and warm pleasure it gave her. "I'm exercising my rights as a woman."
"But, I mean, sis, like that? I mean, it ain't right!"
"Like what, Al? Like this, you mean..." She let her middle finger ease into her hairless vagina while pushing her top up even further to reveal all of her tiny bosom. "I'm at home. In my room. If I can't do this here, where can I?"
Alan stood transfixed, not daring to leave and too frightened to stay. Alison could sense his discomfort and was amused to see a kind of stiffening under his baggy shorts just where she reckoned his dick should be. She'd never thought of that before, but she'd had real live dick in her house all along. She didn't have to go out and look for it. She smiled cheekily at her brother and sat up on the bed. Her top fell down over her bosom, and she steadied herself with one extended arm behind her, while her other hand continued stroking her crotch. It felt so good, why should she stop?
"Look sis! It ain't right. It ain't proper! What would Mom and Pop say?"
"Hey, Al. Don't be such a party pooper! I bet you do just the same in your room when you close the door and get on the Internet."
"Well, er. Well. Yeah. Well."
"And anyway, Al. What you got hidden in those jocks of yours? I can just about see something there."
"What do you mean? Hey, come on, sis. I was just looking for my Bon Jovi CD. I didn't ask for all this."
"Oh fuck it! You know you want it!" Alison said seductively, pulling her tee-shirt up over her shoulders and head with her match-stick slim arms. And then she sat on the bed: topless and bottomless, slacks and panties around her bare ankles, staring at her brother both insolently and lasciviously. "Come on, bro! What have you got between your legs?"
Alan didn't move. A trickle of sweat made its way down his crinkled forehead. "Nothing. Nothing!" He replied without thought or consideration.
"I don't believe you! I don't believe you at all!" Alison exclaimed, pushing herself off the bed and approaching her brother. She stood in front of him, naked, her hair tied back in ribbons and pale pink lipstick on her thin young lips. "I want to find out for sure. Isn't that something I can see pressing against the buttons of your fly?"
"Come on, sis! Can't we just pretend I ain't seen you? Can't we just say I didn't come in to your room? Hey, sis! Leave me alone!" This was to no avail, as Alison carefully and slowly, looking up at her taller brother's face, undid the buttons of his shorts, feeling the stiff, hardness of his penis against the knuckles of her hands, the bangles on her wrists clashing against the khaki cloth. And then, with a sudden tug which surprised both of them in its boldness, down came Alan's shorts and at the same time his boxers, and Alison could see for real what before then she'd only ever seen on the Internet.
Fuck! It was big. And stiff. And pink, but not as pink or pale as the skin of his chest and upper thighs. Sticking out as big as her hand, if not bigger, a long sheath of stiff hard flesh with throbbing veins, pulsating and pumped up with passion. At one end was a dark brown bush of hair, whilst at the other end, a strange purple colour, was a shining, sticky, smelly glans with such an ever so tiny mouth, but slitted up-and-down, rather than side-to-side. And what was that smell? It wasn't like the sweetly sickly smell from her own pussy whose fragrance she'd sometimes rubbed against her nose when it creamed on her fingers. It was a richer, stronger, much more potent smell. She just wanted to get her nose right up against it and smell it close. Perhaps even taste it. With her tongue. Or lips. Or whatever.
Alan's penis twitched with excitement, and with a reciprocal excitement and some curiosity, Alison put the tip of her tongue on the tip of her brother's glans just above its vertical slit. Alan started. "What are you doing?" he asked breathlessly.
"You know what I'm doing," Alison replied gripping her brother's erect penis in her fist, as much to steady it as to announce possession of it. "Mom and Pop are away. We've got the house to ourselves. We can do what we like?"
"I guess so," responded Alan weakly, surrendering himself to the inevitability and logic of the moment. "What they don't know, what they don't have to know, I mean, it won't hurt them. I s'pose."
With that vote of encouragement, Alison ran her tongue up and down the sheath and length of her brother's penis: leaving a thin film of saliva behind to lubricate it and to make it shine in the early afternoon sun. One hand grabbed his hard egg-like testicles in the little bag beneath his penis that was now pulled taut and tight by the power of his erection.
"Ooh!" exclaimed Alan. "That feels sore!"
Alison momentarily wondered why, but was then reminded from her sex lessons at school what those two egg-shaped things in the scrotal sac were there for. No doubt they were charging up to splatter her with semen and sperm. Excited by the very vision of it, Alison grabbed her brother's penis in both hands and eased her mouth over the tip, opening it, oh! so very wide!, to let the glans between her lips and her sharp shiny white teeth, still being kept straight by a nearly invisible brace.
It tasted even stranger in her mouth, and it was twitching so very uncontrollably, with a mind so much of its own, while Alan's face contorted with strain and agony, but totally focused on the attention Alison was giving his still growing manhood. Alison gasped as the twitching dick threatened to choke her as it pushed against the back of her throat. She eased her mouth out and, holding his penis with one hand and supporting her weight against his thigh with the other, she looked imploringly up at her brother. All the while MTV were broadcasting some pop classic turned bland and banal by a quintet of smiling Irish teenaged boys. Her brother smiled down at her, with an expression almost more foolish than anything else.
"What now, brother?" She asked. "What's the next thing to do?"
"I guess I ... er ... fuck you," Alan replied, no doubt remembering the sequence of events that usually took place in a sex film. He was probably aware that normally this might also involve such added extras as DP, FC or CP. However, for the moment, normal sex, for the first time in his life, seemed plenty good enough.
"Not up the front you can't!" replied Alison. "I've been to sex education, you know. That's how you get pregnant. I don't want that to happen."
