Don't Overthink It! Pt. 01

I laughed. "They really do. See any semis?"

"One or two," she said, thoughtfully. Then, upending the packet, she tried to jiggle a gummy loose into her hand, dropping it right on my dick.

"Oh no!" she said, then immediately started rooted around in my pubic hair for the gummy she'd dropped. I had an inkling there was more penis touching involved than was strictly necessary, but I didn't mind. She was just brushing up against it, like she had in the water.

"God, Will, it's a jungle!" Then, having found what she was looking for, she retrieved it and looked at it with a grimace. "I never said anything before," she said, picking pubic hairs off the gummy, "but I wonder if you ever considered shaving it all off. I could help you do it if you liked...?"

In fact I had once been a pubic hair shaver. When I stopped doing it, my ex, Sarah, didn't even seem to notice. That was toward the end of the relationship, of course. "Well, how do you do yours?" I asked Joan.

"I use a product. I don't think men can use it though, the skin on the testicles is too thin or something like that."

"A lot of naturists do keep it trimmed down there," I mused. "Is that a look you prefer on guys?"

"Oh," she said, "everyone is free to do what they want, of course, it's not my business," eyeing the gummy on both sides to confirm it was free of pubic hairs. "I do prefer clean-shaven though. For the guys I date, I mean."

"Why's that?"

"I just think it looks a lot better. Everything look bigger and more slick. Plus, it makes it nicer, you know, to wrap my mouth around it," and she popped the gummy into her mouth. My sister did have a way with words sometimes.

As it happened, I had been seeing ads on Facebook for a product much like the one my sister had mentioned, but for male genitals. As soon as we were back home that night, I went and found the product online and read up a bit about it. Testimonials seemed to be good. I ordered some.

A week later, the product arrived. Duly following the instructions, I put it to work. Sure enough, all the pubic hair came off. The product did also leave my testicles bleeding, so, suffice to say, my sister did not see me naked that day, but within 24 hours everything looked fine.

That evening, I gave my bits a once over with some tweezers to catch any stragglers. Then, I walked, naked, out of the bathroom and directly into the lounge where Joan was lying on the couch.

"Check it out," I said, standing directly in front of her, where she could see.

Her eyes went wide. "Wow!" Positioning herself so she could get a good look close up, she said, "It looks so smooth! Can I feel?"

I nodded.

She ran her hand over my now hairless testicles and the surrounding pubic area, feeling the skin on the shaft of my cock. Her gentle touch sent warm little thrills through my body.

"Completely hairless," she concluded. "How did you manage it?"

"I used a product! They make them for men now, it seems."

"Well, that's fantastic. It looks great, Will!" Nodding and smiling slyly, "That is a cock I want to wrap my mouth around." I'm sure she meant to say "the kind of cock".

At any rate, over the weeks that followed, Joan started going about the house naked as well. At first she would go from the shower to her room with a towel around her waist, her breasts exposed. Then, she started going from the shower to her room with a towel around her hair, her whole body exposed.

Then, she ditched the premise of the shower entirely. Before long, we were hanging about in the lounge room, watching TV together, completely naked. Sometimes we would even snuggle up, skin on skin. Ours had become a genuinely naturist household.

The next nude swim we went to together, the sun was hot and very bright. The Met Office had put out a UV warning earlier in the day. "I'm glad I brought sunscreen," Joan said. "Do you never wear it, Will?"

"It's never sunny enough for it," I said.

"It is today! Where would you be without me?"

We set ourselves up on the beach. It was crowded! I don't think I'd ever seen the beach that packed. Hundreds of naked bodies sprawled from one end of the sand to the other, in all shapes and sizes, as the saying goes.

"Can you come put some on my back?" Joan had started covering her naked body in sunscreen. I helped her make sure there was enough on her back and shoulders. "Can you get my butt while you're there?"

I'll confess I greatly enjoyed massaging sunscreen into my sister's buttocks. She truly was in great shape. I didn't go as far as trying to slide my hands between her legs, but her buttocks did get a few good squeezes from me.

She sat down on her towel and started to do her legs. I reached down so she could squirt some sunscreen into my hand, then started covering my own chest, shoulders, arms, legs.

When I was all out of sunscreen, she spoke up. "Will, you have to put it on your dick too. You don't want your dick to get burnt."

I kind of shrugged at her.

"Here, have some of mine," she said, and wrapped her sunscreen-covered hand around my newly hairless penis and testicles, making sure they were well covered.

My little sister rubbing sunscreen into my dick and balls was one of the most delicious things I've ever felt, her warm hand and fingers, the cold sunscreen, variations in pressure, different points of contact lighting up with sensations of touch.

She touched my penis at every point on it, from the base to the sensitive head. If she'd been doing it for my sexual pleasure, that would be a very big no-no for multiple reasons. But she wasn't, so it wasn't.

She got up and, signalling to me with her fingers, "Turn around," she said. She used the rest of the sunscreen to cover my back. I loved the feel of her hands on my skin. She was so gentle - and, yes, she did my buttocks as well.

"There we go! All ready for a nice sunny day at the beach," she said.

We went in swimming as usual, but I think, this time, like many on the beach that afternoon, we saw the opportunity to get a proper tan, so we were soon out of the water to lie down in the sun.

The afternoon was pretty lazy. Joan and I slowly roasted ourselves in the sun, alternating between back and front. Apart from occasional comments about nice boobs and dicks we were seeing, we didn't talk much.

"Holy shit, Will, look at this," Joan whispered, grabbing my dick to get my attention.

I was starting to wonder if maybe I should put a stop to the dick squeezing, assert some boundaries. The thing is, I didn't want to. As long as nothing sexual happened, it didn't feel like any of my boundaries had been crossed. Maybe I'd feel differently about someone else, but this was my little sister. We'd known each other since she was born.

"This guy, just between us and the water."

I could see what she was referring to now. A middle-aged man, maybe only a little older than Joan and me, was walking from our right to our left with a very obvious, very hard erection.

Joan sucked air through her teeth. "I see what you mean now, you know. That's poor form."

"Yeah, it's not so much the raging hard-on itself, but that guy is flaunting it. It's rude."

Joan made a "blegh" noise to indicate her disgust. Then she turned to me and said, "I have to ask, do you guys get raging hard-ons often?"

"Yeah," I said. "It's easier to hide when you're wearing trousers. You just tuck it into the waistband." Joan laughed uproariously at that.

The following weeks passed without much to report. Joan had been staying at my place for three months now, and presumably was getting into a position where she could move out. I realised I would miss her. I dreaded the conversation, but I realised, mentally, I would have to prepare for it.

Still, it never came up. Every evening, we curled up on the couch naked, and every day we went our separate ways for work, looking forward to being back at home, able to strip off the clothes for the rest of the day.

One night, on the couch, Joan was sitting up, and I was lying across the couch with my legs across her legs. After a while, I became aware of her staring very intently at my cock.

When I turned to her, questioningly, she just said, "My god, Will."

I looked down. I had a hard-on, like I often did, but, I now realised, it was one of those erections you get which are bigger and harder than usual, typically when you're exceptionally horny.

"I've never seen it so hard," she said. "Do you mind if I get a closer look?"

"Not at all," I said, and lifted one leg over her head so she could get between them.

She rolled over onto her elbows, her face less than a foot from my cock. "You're actually much bigger than I thought you were."

Here's the thing. My sister had touched my dick now half a dozen times or more, always, it seemed, inadvertently or for some reasonable enough purpose. I'd come to look forward to the next time she would do it.

She had never touched my dick while it was hard. Some part of me wondered if, when, she would do it, imagined it, wanted it. Lying there that evening, admiring her breasts, feeling close to her, maybe I'd got so hard because I'd been thinking about that.

"When you said you guys tuck your dicks into your waistband, I thought you were exaggerating," I heard her saying, somehow knowing already what she was going to do next.

She touched my abdomen, drawing a line across my waist, just below my belly button. "Your waistband would be here." Then, with the fingers of her other hand, she pressed my throbbing cock against my abdomen, and traced the line back again. "Sure enough, yours would actually be in your waistline."

She then wrapped her hand around my cock and squeezed. "It is literally rock hard," she said, amazed.

"Have you never seen a cock hard like this?"

She was now stroking it, very slowly, watching the foreskin cover and uncover the head of my cock. "I suppose I must have. I just never thought..."

I could feel drops of precum forming at the slit now. Her face was inches from my cock, her mouth slightly open. I was sure she could smell it. "Never thought what?" I whispered.

Suddenly she stopped moving her hand. Then she let go of me. "I'm sorry, Will. I think I need to go be alone now."

"Yes," I said, "I think I do too."

Then, as though not even seeing each other, we ran, naked, down the hall and to our separate bedrooms, slamming the doors behind us. I got onto my bed and immediately started masturbating.

It can't have been more than 30 seconds before I felt the welling in my balls, the warm hum spreading out from my cock to the rest of my body, then the first contraction, and long, thick ropes of cum covering my chest and shoulders, reaching nearly to my face.

My eyes closed, I breathed heavily for a long while. Had Joan heard me? I must have made a noise. What would she have thought of me masturbating to the thought of her stroking my cock? In the light of post-orgasm clarity, I felt deeply ashamed.

The next morning, I went to the kitchen with pants on. Joan came in soon after, wearing a long nightshirt.

"First," I said, "I want to apologise for what happened last night."

"Oh, Will! You, apologise to me?" She looked like she might cry.

"I'm your big brother. I should have put in some boundaries."

"No, Will. What happened last night was the result of my actions, and my actions alone. I'm the one who needs to apologise. I took advantage of you."

We each made coffee for ourselves. Stirring mine in my cup, I said, "I'm the big brother, though, Joan. You can't take advantage of me."

"Oh, Will, stop it. I'm not a child any more. I need to take responsibility for what I did."

"Joan, I'm serious. You have never harmed me."

She looked at me. She was actually crying now, streams of tears running down her cheeks. "Well," she said, "you've never harmed me either."

I inhaled deeply. "It sounds to me like no-one has been harmed," I said, and took a sip of my coffee. "Joan, I think what happened last night was," thinking aloud a bit, "I think things got a bit heated in the moment, but neither of us actually intended it to go that way."

"No," she replied, "of course I didn't mean it. It's just, Will, there's something I think you need to understand. I haven't really been honest with myself about this either." She took a sip of her coffee. "I don't miss Ed. I hated him by the end of it. But I do miss the sex. And, see, the thing is, I'm just not ready to go anywhere near the dating scene just yet. I hate the thought of it."

I nodded. I'd been there. Everyone's been there. I could only imagine how much worse it was coming out of a marriage.

"I think there's just been a bit of a background horniness for me. I didn't really see it until last night." She screwed up her eyes and, putting her coffee on the counter, covered her face with her hands. "I'm so embarrassed," she said. "Could you hear me, last night, in my room?"

"No," I said.

"That's a relief," she said.

"I take it you couldn't hear me," I said.

She raised her eyebrows at me and picked up her coffee again, "Hear you? Doing what?"

"Joan," I said, "you talk about background horniness, I mean... that's pretty much what it's like to be a guy at the best of times."

She chortled. It was good to see her smile.

"Is it possible," I mused, "that we're just two completely normal human beings? Somehow I can't imagine we're the first housemates to find ourselves in that kind of position."

"So where do we go from here?" she asked.

"I think we need some ground rules," I said. "We shouldn't be doing anything intentionally sexual. If things get a bit heated, I think we can let ourselves off the hook. Last night, we both walked away. You walked away first. I think you behaved very responsibly."

"Do you want me to stop touching your dick?"

"No," I said. "I like it." It felt good to say it out loud. "I like it when you touch my dick."

"Well," she replied, "I like it when you squeeze my boobs."

"They're just body parts," I said.

She beamed at me. "In other words," she said, "nothing changes."

"I think that works fine," I replied. "Don't overthink it."