Current rating: 5.00 of 5
Rate by The Naughty Meter
Categories: Virgins/Young women, Oral Sex, Masturbation, Group Sex / Threesome, The Audience / Voyeur
Tags: Oil Student young18+ sister brother voyeur exhibitionism Taboo
Location: A swimming pool or hot tub
Fulfillment: I will tell you later
Nature: I will tell you later
When Tracey Lane took off her bikini top, squirted half a pint of suntan lotion over her freckled breasts, and started rubbing it in, Jimmy Harris just about did some squirting of his own -- all over his bathroom wall.
Wouldn't that have been fun to clean up! But instead, he clutched his prick tight, fought off the orgasm that threatened to boil over in his balls, and pressed his eyes to the binoculars once again. He didn't want to miss a second of this.
Jimmy was in the bathroom on the second storey of his house. His folks were away in Europe, and there was no other house near to the Lanes. Maybe that -- plus the fact that all the windows in the Harris home were curtained -- had given Tracey the idea that she could flaunt herself a little without risking being seen. Maybe she didn't care if she was seen! Somehow that thought was even more exciting to an overly-horny teenager like Jimmy Harris.
Tracey was on a lawn chair by the pool in back of the Lane house. With the early days of summer, she'd taken to passing a couple of hours after school every afternoon, soaking up the rays. And Jimmy, her faithful fan, had been with her from the start.
How many times had he passed Tracey in the hallway or in the suburban street outside his house, and gotten scarcely a smile out of her? Let alone a glimpse of her spectacular body? Tracey was nineteen, and absorbed in her freshman year at Pattison. The last thing she was going to do was pay attention to a snotnosed kid like Jimmy Harris.
Well, he could certainly pay attention to her -- more than attention, in fact. Devotion! All thanks to a pair of old East German binocs that his Dad kept in the bedroom closet. They brought Tracey so close to him he could almost scream. And that was how he was spending his afternoons: jacking off in the upstairs bathroom, watching Tracey's curves and lines through the specs, imagining what he would do if he was ever let loose on that gorgeous brunette's body.
And now this! Jimmy could hardly believe his eyes. Tracey might as well have been five feet away from him, and she was rubbing and stroking her breasts long after all the cream had disappeared into her flesh. He could swear her nipples were on full-beam pointing straight at him.
He couldn't see her eyes behind the sunglasses, but he imagined they were closed with pleasure. Certainly her sexy, rouged lips were parted like those of the chicks in the skin magazines Jimmy kept under his bed, and those ladies always seemed to be having a fine old time. Most of the time, that facial expression went along with a hot hand buried in their sticky snatches, opening up their two-dimensional pussies for Jimmy's ravenous eyes.
It had to end, and it did. Tracey reclined on the lawn-chair and Jimmy watched as beads of sweat started to appear on her chest and belly. Shit, she was going to sunbathe topless! He'd get to look at her for as long as he wanted! Her legs were crooked up on the chair and slightly spread, and he set about trying to melt that small piece of fabric between her thighs with just the longing in his gaze. A couple more minutes and he'd have burned it away. Then he could --
Jimmy's mouth dropped open. Tracey was moving her hand over her titties once again, and it wasn't stopping there. Down it went over her perspiring belly and -- his cock twitched threateningly in his grasp -- between her legs.
At first it looked as though Tracey was only going to adjust the bottom of her bathing suit, but something in the feel of her palm on that moist pleasure-spot made her pause. She pressed the heel of her hand against the bulge of her pubes, and Jimmy did the same with the hand against his crotch.
Then, very gently, she reached down with the other hand -- and lifted the hem of her bikini bottom.
Jimmy caught a glimpse of dark cunt-hair before she slid the other hand between her legs. He almost fainted.
She was touching herself! She was doing exactly what he was doing, up here in the bathroom! Shit, wasn't she getting enough from that asshole boyfriend of hers -- what was his name? Keanu Smith. What kind of jerk name was that? Well, either Keanu wasn't putting out to her liking, or he was getting her so hot that she had to resort to getting herself off when she was away from him.
Jimmy couldn't see the details of what was going on between Tracey's beautiful thighs. But his imagination told him everything he needed to know. Her middle finger was sliding down the juicy slit and twiddling her clitty, just like the chicks in the magazines. Thing was, those chicks didn't move -- although sometimes he got so turned on, the photos seemed to swim and shimmer as though they were coming to life.
Tracey was moving, that was for sure. Her tight young ass was lifting slightly off the chair, and her hips were making little bucking motions. Maybe she was imagining Keanu's prick working its way in and out of her liquid cunt. And he could see the churning of her hand as she frigged herself into a froth. He could --
"Jimmy? What the hell are you doing?"
What the fuck! He spun around so fast the binoculars slammed against the window pain and bruised his nose.
His sister Roseanne was standing in the doorway of the bathroom, dressed in her usual summer wear: skin-tight halter top, and shorts so form-fitting they looked like they were painted on. Long blonde hair spilled down over her shoulders and into her face, but not enough to hide the angry expression on her face.
"Nothing, nothing. I was just --"
"You were just whacking off, is what you were," Roseanne said severely.
Jimmy looked down and saw his drooping prick hanging out from his jeans. He was well and truly caught in the fucking act. He hadn't read that many detective novels, but he reckoned his sister had more than enough evidence to convict.
What would the punishment be? Would he be doing her chores for the next three months, with her threatening every goddamn evening to tell Mom and Dad on him? Or would she just go up to them when they got back from Europe and tell them, straight out?
The Grim Reaper was on his trail. He could smell the slimy breath of impending death.
Roseanne planted her hands on her shapely hips and breathed deep in that superior way of hers. Her breasts, firm and medium-sized, sprung out and pressed against her halter top. She glared at him. God, if she wasn't getting more like Mom every day. Nineteen years old, and she thought she ruled the world.
Well, she ruled her little brother now, that was clear enough. The most he could do was try to minimize the immediate embarrassment. He started to tuck his cock back into his pants.
"Did I say you could do that?" snapped Roseanne.
"Huh?" Now Jimmy was really confused.
"Maybe I want to watch you get yourself off, didja ever think of that?"
Jimmy hadn't thought of it. "I ... I ..."
"Give me those binoculars. Let me see what you're looking at that's getting you so hot. And don't you try to run away, young man, or Mom and Dad'll be hearing about this just as soon as you please."
Roseanne strode forward and grabbed the specs from around his neck. She pushed him aside and pressed up to the windowpane.
"Wow! Radical! Tracey's getting it on with herself. Look at her go!"
For all his fear and embarrassment, Jimmy had half a mind to grab the specs back and watch the show he was missing -- after he'd strangled Roseanne with the cord, that is. Older sisters, Jesus! You could never figure 'em.
"Man," said Roseanne, sounding amazed. "That's even getting me hot."
Was there something about her he didn't know? Before her words had really sunk in, Roseanne had turned back to him. She handed him the binoculars.
"Jesus, Jimmy. Here you are, living in the same house with a chick who's got half the guys in school chasing her. And you're getting your kicks spying on next-door neighbours suntanning. Can't you think of anything better to do?"
The expression on her face had changed, but Jimmy couldn't read it, mainly because he'd never seen it before. She was looking at him almost like -- well, the way the chicks in the magazines looked at the cameras that were catching every detail of their bodacious bods.
"I mean, just because I'm your sister doesn't mean we can't have a little fun," said Roseanne, pouting. "Don't you think I'm better-looking than Tracey Lane?"
Well, objectively, it was a damn close call. After all, there was a reason Roseanne Harris was one of the most coveted chicks at school. In fact, if Jimmy didn't know her -- like, if he'd come across her photo-spread in Chic magazine -- his hand would've been down on his prong in about two seconds flat.
"What are you ... what are you suggesting?" he said in a choked voice.
Roseanne smiled indulgently. "Jimmy. Tell me the truth. You're a virgin, aren't you?"
Jimmy gulped. "So what if I am?"
"Nothing, silly. Jesus, I was a virgin once too, you know. You don't have to be ashamed of it. I didn't lose mine until last year -- although you'd better believe I've been making up for lost time since then!"
She smiled. "Take out your prick, Jimmy. Then go back to your little show. Let me show you how good a woman's hand can feel on you."
Was this happening? Jimmy lifted the glasses to his eyes and turned back to the window. Before you could say jackshit, his sister was up against him, rubbing her full womanly body against him, and reaching round to touch his prick, still limp with fear and confusion.
God help him if her cool, long fingers didn't send a jolt of electricity through his entire body. He looked out the specs and brought in the sight of Tracey Lane, but only for a second. She had brought herself all the way off, and was now lying relaxed -- maybe asleep -- on her lawn chair.
"Oh, God," said Jimmy, as his sister's hand started stroking the engorged length of his cock.
Roseanne brought her lips to his ear and whispered: "Does that feel good, baby brother? You're in good hands, don't worry. Do you like my tits pressed into your back?"
She pushed harder against him, and reached round another hand to tickle his swollen balls. "You've got a real nice prick there, Jimmy. All the girls are going to be after it soon enough. Just relax."
Her hand moved faster over his prick, squeezing and teasing. "You're going to shoot your wad soon, aren't you, little brother? Just like you do in your room at night when the lights are out? Thinking about Tracey."
"Jesus, sis. I can't stand it."
Jimmy's cock gave two or three twitches in her hand. Roseanne had jacked off enough boys to know the warning signs. She cupped one hand underneath the tip and kept up her hot strokes with the other, and sure enough, Jimmy blew up.
"Ahhhh, shit!" His whole body turned as hard as the prick in her hand, and then warm jets of spunk were squeezing out of his throbbing balls, racing down the barrel of his prick, and gushing in thick streams of jism all over Roseanne's waiting hand.
"Oh, yeahhhh," she murmured in his ear. She pulled on his cock, coaxing gush after gush of cum out of his aching balls. It dribbled down her wrist and splattered on the floor, but she held on until he'd finished. Damned if she hadn't nearly cum herself, pressing her pubes against her brother's tight rear end.
Jimmy sagged against the wall and turned to face her, his eyes dazed. His sister lifted up her hand, which looked as though someone had just cracked a few eggs over it. Sticky jism still trickled from her fingers. Whatever had been in her eyes before was still there.
Roseanne had briefly considered licking the spunk off her fingers -- wouldn't that give him a thrill -- but in the end she decided not to risk him having a heart attack. She went over to the sink and washed the sperm off her.
"By the way," she said. "It's your birthday real soon, isn't it, Jimmy?"
"I think we're going to have to come up with something special for you, that's all," she said. "And don't worry. I'm not going to tell Mom and Dad. I guess we're kind of partners in crime by this stage, right?"
For the first time, Jimmy managed a smile. "Partners in crime. Yeah."
After she'd left, he sat down on the toilet seat, his mind racing with the excitement of what had just happened to him. But if he'd gone to the window instead, to search out Tracey again with the binoculars, he would have seen her jump a little in her chair, then go inside to answer the doorbell. If he'd had X-ray eyes to go with his specs, he could then have seen her welcome Roseanne at the door -- they were girlfriends, after all.
Jimmy could have seen the two girls sit down on the couch and start talking with an air of secrecy. He could even have seen them hold hands and kiss in a way that probably would have struck him as more than simply friendly. And if he'd had super-sensitive hearing to go with his X-ray eyes, he could've heard them planning his birthday surprise.