Handy Blanket

Sometimes I like to make a bet with guys I meet, ask them which of us has been naked with a chick for the longest time. See, I'm not exactly suave, maybe kind of gangly, and I don't look like I score with the ladies too often. I like to make this bet with guys who think they're cool, with their hair slicked back or whatever. What they don't know is that I have a fraternal twin sister, Janie, so our naked bodies were pressed up against each other in the womb for nine months solid. It used to feel weird to make a sex joke about Janie, but I'm used to it by now. Plus, I always win the bet.

One of the reasons I don't look like I score too often is that I don't. I've made it all the way to my senior year in high school, and my only girlfriends haven't progressed much beyond platonic. This has been moderately discouraging. People say college women appreciate intelligence more, so maybe I'll prove this true next year.

Janie and I just turned 18 a couple of months ago, and our parents chose this occasion to move us into the basement. We've been asking them to let us move down there for years, and they finally agreed. It was a ton of work to get everything cleaned up and moved around, but now it's a pretty nice set up. We each have our own room, there's a shared bathroom, and then we have another whole area, the main room of the basement, where we have a TV and stuff. We spend a lot of our time in the main room. Sometimes one of us gets annoyed by the other one for a while and we go in our own rooms, but we usually get along OK for a brother and sister. It's nice not to be upstairs by our parents' room, so we can play music or make noise after they go to bed.

The nice thing about the basement is that our parents hardly ever go down there, except to do the laundry or get something out of storage. Sometimes we have to clean it up really good when a people come over to the house or something, but usually we're pretty much on our own.

Mom and Dad go downstairs to watch TV sometimes too--this is the only TV in our house. Mom and Dad are incredibly weird because they hardly ever watch TV, and Janie and I had to beg them to get a TV for the basement. Since there's just the one TV, we occasionally have minor flare-ups about what to watch. We're twins, but our taste in TV is very different. Sometimes there's fallout from these disagreements. Like yesterday Janie had a couple of girlfriends over and they were yammering about stuff like they always do, and her friends were going on and on about some show they were watching, and how this guy was so cute. Janie had to tell them that she didn't see it, and they gave her a hard time about it.

So after dinner last night, I went down to the basement to watch Monday Night Football, as I did every Monday during football season. Janie knows this, and she usually lets me watch the game. I turned on the tube and started to get comfortable to watch the pre-game show. I flopped on the floor with the remote and some Oreos. Pretty soon Janie came down, and I sort of expected her to either go in her room or sit on the couch and watch the game with me. She knows a lot about football for a girl, and I think she doesn't mind watching.

But instead, she grabbed the remote from the floor, sat on the couch behind me, and changed the channel to some chick flick. I asked her what she was doing, and she said she thought I'd been hogging the TV a lot lately and that it should be her turn for a change. She put the remote behind her on the couch and sat there watching the beginning of the movie. On the screen, a hot chick was bumbling around her apartment in her underwear, getting ready for work or something. I might have wanted to see more of this movie if it hadn't been going on at the same time as the game.

I see it this way: The game is happening right now, live. This exact game will never be on TV ever again, and football is a part of the American tradition. The chick flick will be on TV a million times, and if that's not enough, any idiot can go down to the video store and rent it anytime they want.

I tried to explain this to Janie. I said we could record the movie and she could watch it later whenever she wanted. But she said she had to watch it that night because her friends would be watching it and she wanted to be able to talk about it at school the next day. She even had the gall to suggest that we record the football game to watch later! You can't watch a football game days later when you already know who won and what happened and what the score was. She is really a mental case sometimes.

Time was counting down, and talking wasn't getting me anywhere. I walked up next to Janie and stuck my hand behind her back really fast. I got the remote. She let out a loud squeal as I changed the TV back to the game. I guess Mom must have heard her, because Mom yelled down at us to make sure we were getting along OK. We both yelled back and said we were fine. Mom micromanages us far too much. She'll come downstairs to check on us whenever she feels like it, and she usually finds some urgent undone chore. We've learned that it's best to keep Mom upstairs as much as we can.

I sat back down on the floor and held the remote in my right hand. The game hadn't started yet, but the kickoff would be in just a couple of minutes. I used my left hand to eat an Oreo.

While I still had Oreo crumbs all over my mouth, Janie snuck up behind me, stomped on my right wrist with her bare foot, and grabbed the dang remote again. This time I immediately grabbed it back out of her hand. I am stronger than she is, and she knows it. I can always pry her fingers away from something if I need to.

I put the remote in my right hand again, but this time I held it with a tight grip so she couldn't get it back. I was sitting on the floor with my hand up over my head, and she was pulling at my fingers trying to get them loose, but they weren't budging. She grunted and pouted, but it looked like she was ready to give up. I celebrated with another Oreo.

Instead, she went right up to the TV and started pressing the channel change button on the set. There's no number pad on the TV, so you have to scroll through the channels and it takes a while. I asked her what the hell she thought she was doing, but she didn't answer, and then her movie was back on, and there was the hot chick in her apartment. This time we could just see her from the waist up, and she was putting on makeup in front of a mirror, still in just a bra.

Janie saw what was on the screen and told me I should like this movie. I don't like to turn away from really nice tits, and maybe I did watch for a second or two, but I know what kind of movies Janie watches, and they are generally pieces of crap. I switched back to the game, and I slid down the floor and put my right foot up against the TV set so that it covered up the channel changing buttons. There was no way Janie could interrupt again.

That little turd breath lifted up the bottom of my tee-shirt and started to tickle my sides and stomach. She knows I am incredibly ticklish, and she knows we have an uncle who tickles me to embarrass the hell out of me. She had never tried it before, but I guess she was desperate. I had to curl up and put my hands over my stomach to keep her away from me. Even as I was doing this I knew I was moving my foot away from the TV, but I kept a firm grip on the remote. As soon as I moved my foot, she held her big toe on the channel-up button on the TV set and found her movie again after a few clicks. But she kept tickling me while she was doing this, and I wasn't able to get control of myself enough to switch back to the game.

People think tickling is so cute. You tickle a kid and he laughs, and you think the kid is happy. But when people tickle you just to get you to do something, or to screw with you, it just sucks. It's so stupid because you're all laughing and smiling on the outside, but on the inside you're just ticked off.

So she was still tickling me and I was squirming around on the floor, and I was aware that the hot chick in the bra was back. And I don't know whether it was the tickling, or the chick in the bra, or what, but I could start to feel my cock getting hard. It does have a mind of its own, and it sometimes gets hard at the wrong times. I knew I needed to do something about it, but I was still twisting around from being tickled, and I just couldn't figure out what to do. It occurred to me that I might be OK since I was wearing kind of baggy basketball shorts that left plenty of room for expansion.

I was just beginning to feel that the situation was under control when Janie's arm brushed up my shorts, and she must have felt that I had a hard-on. She immediately stopped tickling me and just sat there and looked at me. I could see her eyes darting back and forth between my crotch and my eyes. She didn't say anything, but she looked like she was freaked out.

I'm sure Janie is still a virgin, because I've never seen her going out with the same guy more than about twice. But I don't know if she'd had any experience with cocks. Certainly none with mine. Outside the womb, that is.

So I was lying there on my back, recovering from an inhumane tickle attack, with my shirt all messed up and my bellybutton showing and my dick hard. And my sister sitting there staring at me. The only thing that happened for the next few seconds was on the TV, as I couldn't help but notice the hot chick fidgeting around trying to put on a dress. This didn't help to soften my dick at all.

Finally, Janie told me that I have a really big cock. I said I was sorry and that it wasn't always that big. She was quiet for a while longer, and then she asked whether she was the one who made it hard. I said I wasn't sure, that it sometimes gets hard by itself when there's no good reason. Then she asked me if I liked it when it was hard. I wasn't sure how to answer, because I didn't want her to think I was hard because of her. So I said it sometimes feels nice when it's hard.

I pulled my shirt back down, and she suddenly asked me if she could see it. At first I freaked out and told her not only no, but hell no. Then she said if I showed it to her, she would let me watch the game and wouldn't bother me about the TV all night. This seemed like too good of a deal to pass up, so I said I would. She smiled and sat up when I agreed.

I didn't get up off the floor or anything. I just grabbed the elastic at the front of my shorts and boxers, yanked them down and then back up in a fraction of a second. She groaned that I didn't give her enough of a view, but I told her she should learn her lesson and be more specific next time. But she said the deal was off, and that she hoped I enjoyed her movie. She had all the cards, and I had no choice but to concede. I pulled my waistband down again and held it down while she looked me over. I'd never had the feeling of someone staring at my dick, and I have to admit that I liked it, even if it was just Janie.

She made a few comments while she was seeing the sights, about how there was some hair here and there, and how the balls were a lot bigger than she expected. She kept moving around to look at my cock and balls from different angles. The whole thing was making me horny, even though I couldn't figure out why.

Right about then I decided the show was over and I pulled my pants back up and arranged my hard-on to make it less obvious. She complained when I did this, but I'd lived up to my end of the bargain. I hopped up on the couch with the remote and changed back to the football game. I had missed the first couple of minutes, but there was still no score. She got up on the couch next to me and kept looking at my cock through my shorts, which made me feel weird. My hard-on wasn't going down at all. The football game wasn't cooling it off.

We watched the game for a few more minutes, but I could tell that she wasn't really focusing on football, and I have to say that I wasn't focusing as much as usual either. Finally, I asked her why she was so wound up about my cock. She said she had never seen a real dick before, and that she didn't know why, but that she really liked seeing it. Maybe I shouldn't have asked, because it seemed like she wanted to talk more about the subject then. She wanted to know whether my cock was normal size, or if other guys had smaller ones.

Then she asked about certain guys--other guys in some of our classes. It's not like I deliberately study other guys' cocks in the shower, but you can't help but see 'em sometimes. Still, I wasn't sure I should be blabbing about other cocks. It was a surreal conversation already, and if I hadn't been so damn horny I would definitely have cut short the conversation and tried to focus my energy on the game.

But the horny side of my head realized that if I told Janie about the guys in school, she just might tell me about the chicks, and this was enough to get me to spill my guts. She'd mention a guy's name, and if the guy was in PE with me, I'd tell her what I remembered about his cock--long, short, fat, thin, hairy, cut, whatever. Later I even told her which two guys in school were hung longer than any other guys I'd seen. She was definitely hanging on my every word through this entire conversation.

As casually as I could, I asked her how Carla looks. This made Janie laugh hysterically and hold her hand over her mouth. Carla is a girl in our class, and Janie knows I have a crush on her. Unfortunately, Carla isn't exactly in my league, so it's an unrequited crush and stands a low chance of ever being requited.

In a seductive voice, Janie proceeded to describe Carla's body in detail. I already knew about her long amber hair and her finely toned legs, but Janie told me about those areas I didn't know about. She told me about Carla's tits, much larger than Janie's, with a tan line that suggested a certain amount of sunbathing. She told me about her nipples, deep pink and framed by areolas as big around as the lid of a can of soup. Janie used her own body as a visual aid, encircling her own breasts and touching her own nipples while she talked about Carla's. She told me the hair around Carla's pussy was trimmed but not totally shaved, and that she thought I would really enjoy seeing it someday.

At first it was very weird be hearing stuff like this from my sister, knowing that her words were making my cock literally throb. Janie was describing someone else, but I was watching her, noticing the changes in the way her own nipples looked through the fabric of her top as her story continued. But by the time she finished the verbal picture of Carla naked, the feeling of weirdness began to subside. It's amazing how you can get used to something really weird. Or maybe it was because my cock was taking over more of my brain power.

It was about then that Janie asked me if I ever jack off. She said it just that way, jack off, and it really surprised me that she would think about these things. I didn't answer at first, because it's not really something I like to advertise, but I felt so much like stroking my cock right then that I finally I told her that I do. She got wide-eyed and sucked in her breath at this, and then she had a bunch more questions. Where do I do it? When do I do it? How often? Have I ever done it while she was at home? Most of these questions had answers that surprised her, judging by her reactions. Then she asked how I jack off, and I told her that I usually just kind of slowly rub my dick with my hand, and after a while I cum. I could feel pre-cum beginning to ooze from my dick, and I ached to give it a tug or two for relief.

We sat silently on the couch staring at the football game for a while, but I for one couldn't get jacking off out of my mind. I thought Janie was going to ask me something else, but instead, with her eyes fixed on the TV screen, she said she does too. I asked her what she does too, but even as I asked the question, I figured out what she was talking about. And she said, again without moving her head or eyes, that she masturbates.

I was pretty surprised to hear this, but I don't know why. Everybody does it, right? In my surprise, I asked her a few of the same questions she asked me--Where? When? How often? And, How? She said she's been jacking off for a couple of years, and she's tried lots of techniques, but she mostly likes to take off all her clothes and gently touch around her clit until she has an orgasm. I noticed pre-cum showing through my shorts, and I picked my butt off the couch and rearranged my shorts to make it less obvious. After I thought about it more, I liked the idea that Janie was able to get a blast from an orgasm, kind of like I get.

She had her legs pulled up tight against her chest, and I couldn't help looking at her crotch. I saw the tiniest bit of a damp spot through her thin shorts, and I smiled when I thought about my own pre-cum spot. She turned to look at me and caught me watching her pussy. The corners of her lips rose up a little and she asked if I wanted to see her naked. At that moment, there was nothing more that I wanted than to see her naked and to jack off to a mind-blowing orgasm while watching her do the same. But instead, I said I didn't think I should. She even coaxed me, saying that it would be OK since she'd already seen my dick. But I held my ground. She was my sister, after all. There are some things that brothers and sisters just shouldn't do.

She was wiggling around on the couch, and I wondered if just that slight movement would be enough to give her an orgasm. Just the thought of this caused my body to start to move around, and the fabric of my boxers, saturated with pre-cum, started to slide along my hard-on just a bit. I think Janie saw my crotch gyrating, and she asked me if I would jack off while she watched. I thought this was a pretty bold question, and for a split second I again visualized myself entirely naked, my dick throbbing in my hand, Janie's eyes taking in the whole episode. And despite the fact that my cock was desperate to be relieved, I put that image out of my mind and asked Janie if she was completely nuts. I told her there was no way in hell that I would be jacking off in front of my sister, and that we should just change the subject because there was nothing she could say that would change my mind.

I made my point, maybe a little more strongly than I wanted. There was still no score in the football game, but the Lions were beginning an offensive drive, and I thought I could focus on the game for a while. But when I turned back to look at Janie, I saw that she was still just wiggling on the couch, and now she had her eyes closed and she was biting her bottom lip with her teeth. I made a comment about a great 17-yard pass play, and I made a point to ask Janie what she thought of it. She at least opened her eyes and looked at the TV, but she didn't say anything and she kept moving around on the couch.

After another couple of downs, she asked me if she could see my dick again. The thought gave my body a jolt of electricity, but again I shot her down. Although I knew I would have to go jack off later in my room, I was beginning to feel like she finally might just shut up and watch the game. I was wrong. She said if I didn't let her see my dick again, she would tickle me more and change the channel back to the movie. I told her she already agreed to let me watch the game, but she said she was making a new rule and I could take it or leave it.

I have to admit that my cock was pulsing at the thought of giving her another show, and even though I thought it wasn't quite right, I figured there couldn't be any real harm either, since she'd already seen it once. I yanked my waistband down again, but she said that wasn't good enough. She wanted my pants and underwear off all the way. I asked her what would happen if Mom or Dad came down the stairs and saw me sitting there naked from the waist down with a raging hard-on and my sister sitting there looking at it. She said they would never come down, and even if they did, we would hear them in enough time to get me covered up. I had to admit that she was right on both counts.