Jane's Voice: The Seduction of Jack

This story is the other side to the story "Jane seduces her brother." The original is told from the viewpoint of Jack, Jane's brother. Now we let Jane tell the story in her own voice.

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My brother was born a year before me. He will always be a year older than I, but he won't always be 'older and wiser.' I became wiser than him at a young age. When I was in high school and my body changed into the body of a young woman, my brother became interested.

I developed hips as all girls do, and I developed breasts. But unlike many girls, my breasts kept right on developing to the point where they were big, and boys noticed, and became quite interested in me. High school boys are fascinated with boobs. Older men, not so much.

I knew early on the power my body had on boys. One boy in particular who was captivated by my curvaceous body was my brother. A girl knows when a man looks at her with lust in his eyes, even if he tries to hide it. Perhaps it's harder to notice in a brother, simply because it is so taboo I would guess most girls dismiss it out of hand.

My brother was fairly obvious, even if he thought he was subtle. He would pretend to read the cereal box at the breakfast table in his morning stupor, but in reality he was checking out my boobs. I could tell. Sometimes I would lean across the table, going for the milk, and thereby offer him a view down my nightgown.

I wore no bra at breakfast, so my boobs were there in all of their glory. He always took the free peek. He thought I did not notice, but of course I always did. The most obvious thing he would do was to sneak into the back yard when I changed for bed. He would watch me change into my nightgown, thinking I could not see him because it was dark outside.

It's true, it was hard to see him out there, but once I had noticed him, I always looked to see if he was there, watching me, and he almost always was. That was when I decided to sleep nude. I stopped changing into my nightgown, and just removed my clothes, becoming nude. Then I slipped under the covers.

I decided my brother needed more of a show. I changed my routine. Once I was nude, I would putter around my room doing things, deliberately teasing him by showing off my nude body. I knew this was wrong on some level, but I did not think I was in the wrong. After all, I can wear (or not wear) what I want in my own room. My only sin perhaps was not to close my curtains.

But why should I have closed my curtains? Our back yard had a privacy fence. Nobody could see in, unless he was placed in the garden outside my window, looking in. That of course is where I would find my brother Jack, drinking in my shows.

Walking around nude for him grew old after a while, and I began to put on better and better shows. Ultimately, I would sit on the bed, facing the window, and slowly masturbate myself. I would spread my legs wide to give Jack a great view. He must have felt so lucky and so clever, but in fact he was neither. His only luck was that I enjoyed teasing him.

I upped the ante towards the end of high school. I borrowed a dildo from a girlfriend of mine who was really out there at the high school sexual frontier, and masturbated with the dildo. I was doing it for the showmanship for my brother, but an extra benefit was that I loved doing it.

Towards the end of high school I decided to let him know I was on to him. He began to masturbate outside my window while he watched me pleasure myself sitting on my bed, facing the window and therefore him. I enjoyed watching him beat off.

I had never seen a man do that before. One time we both came at the same time. I blew him a kiss. At that point he had to know I was on to him. Even if he were as naïve as I thought he was, he still had to know.

He kept coming to my window, anyway. I decided to up the ante. He had a best friend, Bill, and I knew Bill was sweet on me. I also knew Bill would tell Jack about what happened, because I overheard him promise Jack that if he ever got anywhere with me, he would tell Jack all the details.

This happened one day when they were talking in our house and thought I was not there. I listened in, because they were talking about girls. I'm a girl, so naturally I was curious about their thoughts. I learned a lot about what sexually attracted them to girls, but in particular I learned that Bill's dream girl was me. He worshipped me.

I was flattered and completely freaked out. We go through life thinking our own thoughts, living our own lives, having our own friends and fantasies. I knew boys I secretly liked, and maybe I even wanted to fool around with them a bit, but it did not occur to me that there would be boys obsessed with me.

There were, however. There were two at least: Bill, and my brother Jack. Now that I think about it there were very likely more, too. I can think of three more who might have had crushes on me. Probably they did.

Bill told Jack his fantasies of what he would like to do with me. They were graphic and pretty disgusting. The most harmless was that he wanted to fuck me; that one was normal. The others involved his need for attention by (for example) making a sex tape of us doing it to show to his friends.

I was grossed out. It was not only Bill's absurd and over the top fantasies involving me. They were, after all, just a teenage boy's fantasies designed to impress another boy, and I dismissed them as such. Most fantasies are much more wild that reality could ever be. No, what freaked me out was my brother's reaction to Bill's fantasies.

For example, another of Bill's fantasies was that he would seduce me and then offer me as a present to his older brother Mitch. This was so horrifying that I thought my brother would shut him down and kick him out of the house. In my imagination Jack would say to him that he could not talk that way about his sister. Instead in reality he said, "When you do that, you should sell tickets, and I'll be the first one in line to get one."

Had Bill not revealed his obsession with having sex with me to my brother, he never would have had a chance with me. But he did tell my brother, and I overheard him doing it. That meant I decided that he was going to have me. I would see to it. From that moment on, Bill never had a chance not to have me. I decided to seduce him spectacularly so that he would torment my brother Jack with the details.

I needed courage. I had fooled around with the normal number of boys for a girl in high school with a great body and a pretty face. Think a large number. Maybe it was less than normal, because I was a straight A student, and that intimidated a lot of boys.

I had given blowjobs, and I been fingered to orgasms, but I was a virgin. I had no experience in that domain. I figured Bill would be my first. Then I would leverage that to get my brother to be my second.

Bill on the other hand I knew, due to my bionic hearing, had no experience with girls at all. He admitted that to my brother Jack. He had kissed a girl once, but that was it. This was going to be fun.

I got lucky. I gave Bill his first ever blowjob. Bill invited me over to his parents' house so that we could study together. The basement was his work area, and it was set up with computers and a desk and the like.

We were in the basement of his parents' home, with his parents watching TV upstairs. I finished the blowjob and I was trying to swallow Bill's massive amount of cum, saved up it seems since puberty, when his older brother Mitch discovered us. Mitch saw me naked save for my panties, in the act of fellating his younger brother. I knew Mitch and my brother Jack were friendly, too.

I quickly understood the possibilities. I realized I had to implicate Mitch in this too, otherwise Bill would never hear the end of it. His brother would tease him mercilessly. Bill would no doubt claim he could have laid me had his brother not interrupted.

They would fight. Eventually and somehow, this would blow back on me. His brother could tease him so mercilessly that Bill might not brag to Jack. I never thought I could ever do something like this, but the situation was so perfect, I'm sure you will understand and not think less of me. At least I hope so.

These thoughts went through my head in a microsecond, and I made a snap decision.

I went over to Mitch and signaled my availability. I'm a sexy girl, with a great body and (modesty aside) a pretty face, and Mitch had red blood. Being presented with an almost naked girl with cum on her chin, Mitch did the obvious thing, and I let him possess me sexually. Bill watched the show.

I lost my virginity to Bill's brother Mitch that night. Not my plan, but what the hell. Better, I enjoyed it a lot. No surprise, but I discovered sex is fun. There was no emotional overlay: I did not give a whit about Mitch, and he just saw a sexy and available cunt, and he did what all men do: He used me. It never even occurred to him that I was using him. He would not have cared, even if it had.

Bill could have been grossed out. He should have been grossed out. He could have been jealous. He should have been jealous. Instead, he simply watched us do it, mesmerized. Mitch pulled out and came on my tummy. I said to Bill something like, "You see, Bill? That's how it's done. Want to give it a go?"

That phrase became famous at my high school. I hear tell that even now, eight years later, people talk about it, its origin forgotten. Nobody even knows any longer whether it's even true. Well, it is. A boy in my former high school will try to seduce a girl, and at some point he'll say, "Shall we give it a go?" If the girl giggles, the game is on. If the girl is not amused, the boy needs to try another approach.

Anyway, I did Bill, too. I let two brothers fuck me, one right after the other. This put me in the high school slut pantheon, even though I never fucked another boy the rest of my time in the high school. That one episode was enough to make me infamous. My girlfriends asked me about it, and I never denied it. That was the nail in my slut coffin.

I never confirmed the rumor either. But in high school, not to deny a rumor of that magnitude is equivalent to confirming that it really happened. I just did not care. These were not my people. At that point I wanted one thing only: Sex with my brother.

Of course Jack heard about it. That was the plan. That is why I did it in the first place! I figured he would want his piece of my ass, now that he knew I was no longer a virgin and, as I was now known, a 'total slut.' I was known as 'a girl who will fuck anyone, anytime.' People exaggerate, especially about such things. I was not going to fuck anyone else, except hopefully my brother.

Indeed, I did it with Bill and Mitch precisely to get a reputation as a slut. But no, my stupid brother never made a move. The coward. He just kept watching me from the backyard.

I did not care about my reputation. I knew who I was and it did not matter to me what people thought of me. It turned out I was right, and it also turned out I was wrong. Upon graduation, I instantly fell in love with a man who had heard about my night with Bill and Mitch and thought he could easily get into my panties.

He was right, but it was not because I was a slut. It was because I loved him as only a young girl can. I put out for him happily, thinking I was in love. He taught me a lot about sex, and I did everything he wanted me to do. He wanted a lot, too. I did not mind. The man was a pervert. But actually, I was okay with all of it.

He proposed, and I accepted. I was much too young. Everyone told me I was too young to get married, including my parents and every single one of my friends. But I knew better. We got married.

The problem was that my new husband did not trust me. It was his nature not to trust, but my false reputation as a girl who would spread her legs for just about anyone, at any time, made him even more suspicious than he would otherwise naturally be. And he was a naturally suspicious person, right out of the starting gate.

He wanted me to be an exhibitionist, and so I became one. This would lead to flirting, and he always suspected me, falsely, of cheating. He started to hit me, to beat me, and to knock me around.

One time we went to a party. At his insistence, I wore no underwear to the party. All I had on was a blouse and short and tight skirt. The blouse was low cut, revealing cleavage and the obvious absence of a bra. My husband insisted I wear my Maltese Cross necklace, since the cross was large and fell between my boobs.

My husband would then tell other men at the party a made-up story about the history of the cross, how crusaders had held it in the air during the wars for the holy land. After these elaborate stories, of course the men wanted to see the cross. The obvious thing to do was to remove the necklace the to show it to them.

But that is not what my husband wanted. Instead he would have me unbutton my blouse and pull is apart so that the men could see the entire cross dangling between my boobs. Of course, they would also see my boobs that were caressing the cross, pushing into it from both sides.

He would have me pull apart the sides of my blouse to better show the cross, and occasionally I would end up showing my nipples and large areolas, too. The men enjoyed the view, and raved about the cross. Everyone knew they were raving about my boobs, and there were double entendres to make it even more obvious. There were remarks such as, "It's no nice and big, and quite sexy," was one, and another was, "I must to go Malta and see more of these crosses."

If my husband thought I pulled apart my blouse too far, even if it was on his command and he wanted me to do it, he could beat me later. If I did not show enough boob, he would beat me later. I was walking a very line. I rarely escaped a beating. I always had to be naked for the beatings. The man was a pervert.

The worst, though, was when he decided we should make a sex tape. He invited a friend, Pete, to operate the camera. Pete was good with a camera, and he moved around to capture my face during the fuck, as well as the usual stuff, such my husband's large puck going in and out of me. He had me do it on top, cowgirl style, to show off my entire body and especially my boobs bouncing around as we fucked. He insisted I be very vocal, and moan loudly, for the soundtrack. Pete did a great job, but he was naked while he filmed us, sporting his own formidable erection.

After we were done and my husband had shot his load all over my face, Pete filming it all, he asked Pete if he wanted to do me, too. He did not ask me. This was a test, and I knew it. I screamed, "No!" and ran away to the bedroom, slamming the door. Doing this saved me from a vicious beating. But I did not think to lock the door, and my husband told Pete to go into the bedroom and do me anyway. He knew me, and I wanted it. I heard him say this even though the door was closed.

I was cowering on the bed when Pete came in. I had thrown on one of my husband's T shirts, but that's all. Pete came over to me. He was sweet, gentle, and reassuring. My husband came in. "Pete is suffering, Jane. Seeing you give me that wonderful time has made him much too horny. You have to help him out. It's the Christian thing to do."

"What do you want me to do?" I asked, trembling with fear.

"I want you to give him whatever he wants, of course," my sick husband said. I'll watch.

Pete lay me down on the bed. He pushed up my T shirt, exposing my tits. He spread my legs, exposing my sex. He fingered me gently, sweetly, for a few minutes and I became wet and ready. He mounted me and fucked me. Sadly, I came while he fucked me. I had not cum with my husband when he fucked me. This enraged my husband, and I got my beating when Pete left.

My husband would then invite a bunch of his male friends over to watch a football game. I would be the hostess, and I would have to wear some skimpy clothes, that would be revealing when I would bend over, for example to put down a drink for one of the men. After the game, he would show his sex tape of us on the television, totally humiliating me.

The men would get fresh, and start feeling me up. I would fight them off, but once they ganged up on me, with men sticking their hands down my blouse and others sticking their hands up my skirt, I was doomed. They ripped off my clothes and I was there, in my own home, reduced to my bra and panties.

My husband did nothing to stop them. I was crying, but it had no effect.

I managed to escape that afternoon without giving out any sexual favors, since the men were not rapists. But I was stripped naked and they got as large an eyeful as any one of them wanted. They spread my legs and "inspected" my pussy. I was humiliated, but also I was turned on by the entire event, and my arousal was enough to engender a mild beating once the men had left.

I had had enough. The football game party and earlier having been passed to Pete for sex were the last straws. I did not mind fucking Pete, but I was not just a cunt to be offered to another man. I wanted love, and I was primarily getting brutality.

Desperate for true affection free of violence, I actually did cheat. I did it with my husband's best friend Bob. It was easy. I knew Bob lusted for me. It was really easy to get him to take me to bed.

I had not realized just how paranoid my husband was. He used a drone to film his best friend and me doing it. We were in a bedroom on the seventh floor of a hotel, and a drone hovered just outside the room's window. The drone had a camera and it took a videotape of us doing it.

After his best friend came inside me, I noticed the drone at the window for the first time. I figured it was a voyeur pervert. I walked up to the window, stuck a finger in my cum filled pussy, took it out and licked it off. I did this smiling at the drone. Then I turned around and showed it my ass, and next I flipped it the bird.

I did not realize it was my wife-beating son of a bitch husband who was operating the drone. I thought it was just a voyeur, a technologically sophisticated pervert. When I blew a kiss to the drone, displaying my naked body to it, apparently my husband lost it. The next day he filed for divorce.

I was thrilled, and I did not contest the divorce. Now free, I decided to go to college. I had been accepted to a decent school, but when I got married I asked for a delay. Now I asked to end the delay. I had waited too long, but I got an interview for a special consideration for admission, with someone named Mr. Higgins.

Since Mr. Higgins was clearly a man (the title 'Mr.' was my first clue), I wore one of my exhibitionist outfits to the interview. It was nothing too outré, just a tight, short skirt and a low-cut blouse revealing maximal cleavage. Remember, my boobs are big, and men love them.

I don't know how much of the decision was due to my outfit, but they let me in. It was a good decision: I made phi beta kappa while I was there. In reality I am not a slut: I had that reputation because of that one night with Bill and Mitch. Ironically, the reason I did it was a failure: it failed in its goal of getting my brother into my panties.

My brother moved on, and moved to Chicago, and rumor has it he shacked up with a babe there. Knowing my brother, it was not surprising. Even though I was still obsessed with him, he had gotten over me. He had moved on with his life. Good for him; I wished I could mirror his maturity.

Once in college, I was not interested in sex per se. I was interested in exhibitionist teasing. My ex husband had turned me on to it, and college seemed a great place to enjoy it.

As an example, one pretty day my roommate told me that her sorority was doing a carwash to raise money for charity. It was a warm fall day, and all the girls wore bikinis, to attract customers.