Annie's Awakening

The sensations were simply amazing. Mark's fingertip worked its way almost the full length of my slit from its base near my bottom up towards my clitoris and back, parting my inner lips and dipping briefly into the mouth of my vagina on its way.

I breathed heavily, my body tingling with the pleasure of his touch. I shivered and writhed as my brother's expert fingers worked their magic on my body, feeling his lips on my shoulders and neck and the heat of his chest against my back.

I knew it should not be happening, but it was. it was happening right then and there, and it felt simply incredible.

Like most teenage girls, my vulva was not entirely untouched by boys' hands, but those had been crude, clumsy, hurried fumbling in the dark at parties or behind the pavilion at school. This was completely different; there was nothing crude or clumsy about the way my brother was touching me and from the slow, measured pace with which he was progressing, there would be nothing hurried either.

The first minor tremor of orgasm came quickly and took me by surprise.

As a teen, alone in my room, it had taken a good few attempts to work out the best way to excite myself. But I had eventually found a method that worked and could bring myself to a form of climax readily.

Either the touch of a boy's fingers was something completely different, or Mark had an instinct denied me because every single touch of his hands on my vulva drove my arousal dramatically higher. Within seconds my whole body was trembling, lubrication seemingly oozing from my vulva onto his active fingers.

It can't have been more than two minutes before I was in the grip of the first full-blooded climax, then the second, my body shuddering and shaking against my brother's muscular chest as his fingers drove me mercilessly from one orgasm to the next until I thought I was going to pee myself.

Frightened by the intensity of pleasure, I begged him to stop but my words were slurred and my determination pathetically weak. Mark kept on fingering me regardless, dipping in and out of my vaginal entrance every time his fingertips passed back and forth from my hugely aroused and swollen clitoris to the very base of my slit and tingling anus.

The last orgasm he gave me was so intense it made my eyes open so wide I thought they must surely pop out, wracked my body with violent spams and choked my breath in my throat so tightly I was sure I would faint.

"Please! Please!" I begged.

Finally, Mark took pity on me and withdrew his fingers from my sopping wet flesh. He took me in his arms, holding me close until I had stopped shaking, stroking my cheek, pulling my hair aside and kissing me on the back of my neck.

Mark spent the rest of the night in my room, leaving me tingling, exhausted and asleep in his.

As he gave my cheek a final stroke, I could smell my pungent juices on his fingers.

***

Mark must have been as confused as me about this, because we avoided being alone together for several days and didn't sneak into each other's rooms at night.

For me, this separation was unbearable. I had, literally at his hands, experienced my first proper orgasm with all its consequent confusion and vulnerability. To have then been apparently abandoned by the boy who had provided it, was hard to bear.

More than once I found myself in tears in bed, and twice had to leave the dinner table before either he or our parents noticed me crying.

On the fourth night I could stand it no longer and, once Mum and Dad had fallen silent, tiptoed into Mark's room to have it out with him. He was still awake, again apparently reading but the book looked no different than it had a week before.

"Hi... Are you okay?" he whispered as I approached the bed.

I noticed that he did not raise the duvet in invitation as he would normally have done. I perched on the edge of the mattress in my short nightie instead.

"Why are you avoiding me?" I asked straight out.

"I'm not," he replied in denial. "I thought you were avoiding me."

"You ARE avoiding me," I hissed. "Why Mark? After what you did, how can you just drop me like a stone?"

He seemed to think for a moment.

"You're right. I'm sorry. But I was afraid I'd upset or hurt you," he carried on, to my ear, sounding sincere. "I thought I'd gone way too far and ruined our relationship."

Now it was my turn to pause.

"Well... you didn't, okay?" I eventually replied, uncertainly.

"Didn't go too far, or didn't ruin our relationship?" he asked, sounding relieved.

"Both." I replied. "Neither. I don't know!"

I could see a smile cross his handsome face in the darkness.

"Want to come in?" Mark asked, this time tugging the duvet from under my bottom.

With a feeling of relief myself, I slipped underneath and cuddled alongside my brother.

"I'm so pleased," he whispered in my ear as I settled into my normal spooning position. "I couldn't have bared it if you hated me."

"That's terrible English," I smiled. "But I know what you mean. We need each other. Especially now."

He began to stroke my arms and sides while nuzzling my neck. It felt simply wonderful. I relaxed against him as his fingers explored my body.

"So, you did enjoy...?" he began then stopped.

"Don't embarrass me," I replied. "You know I did. I'd never felt anything like that before."

"Haven't any of your boyfriends made you cum?"

"What boyfriends?" I asked bitterly.

Mark's fingers were now stroking the soft underside of my buttocks again. It felt every bit as wonderful as it had before, but this time less frightening, less unknown. I could feel his hot breath on the back of my neck and as before, raised my knees and closed my eyes.

I felt his fingers on my vulva again, moving along my slit, parting my inner lips, entering my vagina.

Then they found my clitoris.

I bit my fist as the first orgasm of the night struck hard and fast.

***

Mum and Dad's marriage finally broke up shortly after that.

Mark and I were not the only residents of our street to overhear their last and loudest row and were probably not the only ones to welcome what had been the inevitable outcome for many years.

As an argument, it had followed the depressingly familiar pattern of most of their previous catalogue of rows, with accusations of flirting and infidelity thrown liberally from both sides. The difference this time was that, when Mum screamed at Dad that if he couldn't bear to live with her, he should go and stay with his girlfriend, Dad simply told her he would do exactly that, and left.

When they finally split up, Dad moved out and we stayed in the family house with Mum. The upset was unimaginable, with Mum constantly in tears, so it just seemed right for us to be there for her. Of course, this meant Mark and I needed each other more than ever. Our nightly cuddles and emotional heart-to-hearts continued to give us both a good deal of the mutual support which Mum was now incapable of providing.

After a few weeks living with our Grandparents, Dad did indeed move into the flat of the very girl from work that Mum had accused him of seeing behind her back. A few months later it emerged that the girl was pregnant.

This news sent Mum into an emotional tailspin which for a long time brought many strange men into our lives, into our house and above all, into Mum's bedroom. As a result, our occasional support cuddles became almost nightly events.

For the next month, supporting Mum became a full-time job, outside of school hours. Though she still kept going to work, her self-confidence collapsed, her alcohol consumption rose, and she went to bed earlier and slept in longer.

Mark and I were there for her throughout, but were very pleased when one evening she announced that she had accepted an offer to go to dinner with a colleague from work.

We were more pleased to learn that the colleague was male. We were even more pleased when the dates became regular.

During this time, Mark and I shared a bed with increasing frequency, his hands bringing me illicit pleasure many times. When my period arrived, I of course did not want his hands anywhere near my vulva, and expected to spend the week sleeping alone, but my brother had different ideas.

"Please Annie,' he begged as we spooned together late one Thursday night.

Though still in my short nightie, a tampon was firmly in place in my vagina and I was wearing large, unattractive white cotton knickers.

"I can't," I protested. "I just can't do it yet. I'm not saying never I'm just... Please Mark."

You can guess what my brother wanted. Denied access to my vulva he wanted me to repay all the pleasure he had given me by playing with his erect cock. I had quite literally never touched a boy's erection before, had no idea what to do and being on my period, felt too dirty to try anything so adventurous.

"It's only fair Annie," he moaned. "Just reach behind and touch it. It won't bite you."

He was right and I knew it. Our relationship had been all about me so far, but I was too young and too inexperienced to take the next step.

"Maybe next week when my time of the month has finished," I tried, desperately trying to put him off.

An awkward silence fell. Mark continued to stroke my arms, sides, boobs and buttocks but as I had asked, his fingers stayed clear of my vulva. This allowed me to feel what was making me so nervous, the pressure of his erect cock against the underside of my thighs.

"I'm sorry," I said sadly. "I'm just not ready for it yet."

"Don't worry," Mark whispered into my ear. "We'll just cuddle, okay?"

"Okay," I replied, relieved.

And cuddle we did. No words necessary, I lay quietly in my brother's arms, his fingers slowly stroking my skin in the darkness. I felt warm, loved, secure. I began to doze.

A short while later I became aware of movement behind me and a repeated, light, not unpleasant pressure on the back of my legs. It took a while to realise that it was Mark, moving his hips slowly forward and backward, rubbing his cock against my thighs.

"Mark...?" I whispered

"Shh! It's okay," he returned my whisper.

"But I'm not..."

"I know. Trust me!

I felt his fingers on the back of my thigh, then moving down to my knee. Then my upper leg was gently lifted, and my brother's erect cock slipped between my thighs, high up against the gusset of my panties. A moment later, my leg had been lowered, trapping Mark's firm shaft between the soft flesh of my inner thigh and my cotton covered vulva.

It felt very strange, almost frightening but at the same time, very arousing indeed. No boy's erect cock had been that close to my virgin vagina before.

Then before I could adjust to its presence, Mark began to move his hips back and forth, sawing his cock between my legs, rubbing its upper side against my dampening vulva.

It felt so exciting and arousing that I began to tremble immediately.

"Do you like this?" Mark hissed.

"Mmm!" I mumbled, too aroused to speak.

Mark began to thrust gently and rhythmically, his shaft rubbing my outer lips through my panties, his hips nudging my buttocks every forward stroke. Although I was unquestionably still a virgin, an instinct deep within me recognised this was something like sex. It also told me this really should not be happening but the pleasure I was feeling easily over-rode any qualms.

Mark was clearly enjoying it too if the gasps and sighs coming from behind my head were anything to go by. With every stroke they became louder and hoarser, and the pace of his strokes grew faster too.

Push-push-push-push!

His hips pressed against my cheeks.

"Huh-Huh-Huh-Huh' his breaths came in soft gasps.

Then, without warning, I felt Mark's hands grip my hips hard, his fingers dug into my flesh and the pace of his strokes grew much faster and less rhythmic. His breaths became grunts too.

Dimly aware that something had changed, my body went stiff, my legs gripping his shaft even more firmly.

"Oh God Annie I'm...!"

Mark's voice was barely a croak as his cock, pressed high between my thighs began to throb and pulse against my vulva.

"What...?" I stammered.

I could feel his erect cock beginning to soften between my thighs, then slip backwards and away. A moment later I became aware of something warm and wet running over my thighs.

Then it dawned in me what had just happened; my brother had just ejaculated all over my legs, panties and bed sheets. There was a long, low sigh from behind as Mark's breathing slowly returned to normal.

Not long after, I could feel his erect cock beginning to soften between my thighs, then slip backwards and away. I had literally no idea what to say or do so I simply lay there, feeling a stream of goo running down the front of my thigh. Nothing even close to this had ever happened to me or even near me.

There was a silence. Mark's body stopped shaking and he cuddled me close while we both tried to take stock of the situation.

"Did I hurt you?" Mark asked anxiously, his breath warm on my neck.

I shook my head.

"It felt really nice. At least most of it did."

There was another pause, during which I became even more aware of the mess on my legs and bedsheet.

"Is this semen all over me?" I asked, unsure whether to be angry, revolted or pleased.

"I'm sorry, Annie," he said. "I didn't mean to cum on you. I couldn't help it. You're just too sexy." He sighed. "I'm afraid your bed's a bit of a mess too."

The idea that I was so sexy I had made a boy cum, gave me a strange, unfamiliar thrill, but the slimy mess on my body and sheets was a lot less pleasant.

"I've never seen a boy cum before," I whispered. "Does it hurt? You sounded in pain."

Mark chuckled.

"I suppose it's a kind of pain but it's the best kind," he said. "It's best of all if you're having real sex."

The wave of jealousy that surged through me took me by surprise. Mark had had several girlfriends; why wouldn't he have had sex with at least one of them? Just because I was still a virgin didn't mean my brother had to be too. The logic was undeniable, so why did the idea hurt so much?

"Have you had real sex yet?" I asked, tentatively.

Mark thought for a moment.

"Well, yes," he confessed.

He didn't need to ask me; my whole body reeked of virginity and I had just confessed to have never seen a boy cum.

"Who was it with?" I asked.

"You really want to know?"

Part of me desperately wanted to know. Another part knew that the knowledge might hurt me. Another, much bigger part wanted him not to have had sex with anyone, but it was too late for that.

"I'm not sure," I confessed, then sighed. "Do I know her?"

"You know them both."

Both? Oh God.

"Is either of them a friend of mine?"

"No."

Thanking God for small mercies, I breathed out heavily in relief. The idea that my brother might have fucked one of my close friends would have been unbearable.

"Have you done it... lots of times?"

"Not lots. A few times with one. Only once with the other."

I felt a little relieved; it wasn't as bad as it might have been.

"Is that how you learned to touch girls... down there?" I asked.

"I suppose so. They both like it almost as much as you do," he grinned.

"Like?" I challenged.

"Liked," Mark corrected himself.

My relief deepened. We lay together for a long time before he eventually sighed and spoke.

"I suppose we'd better get cleaned up. We'd better swap your sheets with mine before Mum seen them," he said. "If she sees semen stains on your sheets, she will start asking questions big time."

"But she'll see them on your sheets!" I said naively.

Mark laughed hollowly.

"It happens to boys in their sleep, Annie," he smiled, embarrassed. "Haven't you heard of wet dreams? Boys can't help having them; Mum won't think anything's wrong."

I wiped the sticky goo off my legs and tummy with a couple of tissues. Mark wiped the end of his floppy cock too, then still with the lights off, we stripped the sheet from my bed. It was indeed very messy. Mark carried it to his room then returned with his own clean sheet.

Then the two of us remade my bed. I had changed my messy panties while he was way.

"I'd better go back to my room," Mark said when all evidence had been removed or covered.

He kissed me on the lips in a way which felt very different from any kiss he had given me before, as if he was softer, more vulnerable, less an older brother than... I didn't know what.

"Goodnight Annie. And thanks for... well, just thanks."

I lay awake for a long time thinking, among other things, just how much I wish he had stayed and held me close the whole night, how very jealous it had made me to think of him doing anything with my friends...

And how very strange it must be to have a boy's weird, uncontrollable body.

***

Things seemed to move quickly from that night. Or at least, having passed an important watershed, we took them in larger steps.

The next time Mark slipped into bed with me, my period was over, and I wasn't wearing panties. So, after a few minutes of wonderful fingering, I got the full benefit of feeling the top of his shaft rubbing across my bare, sensitised vulva.

It gave me a small, but very pleasant orgasm but made my brother moan aloud when he started spurting onto the hand towel we had placed underneath our hips.

The clean-up was still messy, but this time I was expecting it and could wash and dry the towel without Mum noticing.

A week later, Mark persuaded me to reach behind with my hand while he fingered me, take his shaft in my fist, and rub it up and down. At first, I was surprised by its firmness, the smoothness of its skin, the weird, rounded end with its tiny lips and the strange way the skin slipped up and down the ridged pole beneath.

Of course, the awkwardness of this position soon became obvious to us both so, for the first time, we turned over and began to touch each other face to face.

I cannot describe how different it felt, actually looking into the eyes of the boy whose fingers were inside my slit, or toying with my clitoris, or slipping into the entrance to my vagina. Mark could read the strength of my reactions on my face as well as on his fingers, as clearly as I could read the lust and desire in his expression.

As a result, I reached a much stronger, much more intense climax much, much quicker.

And of course, lying alongside Mark with his arm around my shoulders, his lips on mine and his cock in my fist as I clumsily pumped it, was a revelation. The look on his face when I eventually made him cum was both frightening and marvellous, as was the spray of pale slimy fluid that spurted from the tiny lips on his tip then flowed all over my fingers and wrist.

From there, it was a relatively short journey to him licking between my thighs.

I had severe misgivings at first, having always considered those parts of me to be dirty, especially when oozing those strong-smelling fluids, but Mark didn't seem at all put off.

And of course, once I had overcome my shyness, the results took pleasure to a whole new level.

It took rather longer before I dared try and perform my first ever blowjob on him, and when I did it was clumsy and humiliating, especially when I made myself gag on his smooth end. But together we persevered and by the third evening Mark pronounced me both a fast learner and a great cocksucker.

Why this insult made me feel proud remains a mystery.

This new regime continued for several weeks, both of us getting better and better at bringing each other pleasure until the Friday night Mum stayed away overnight at Grandma's house, and we took the final step to where we are now.

It wasn't planned, at least not on my part. With the house to ourselves, we had no need to hide or keep silent, so lay spooning downstairs under a duvet on the sofa, watching a late-night horror movie on Netflix. The curtains were closed, the doors locked, the lights low.