Looking for Trouble Ch. 01

Now that I was paying closer attention to less distracting details, I saw that the camera work was pretty shoddy, and the actors' deliveries were wooden—at best. I guessed that Babe and Hunk hadn't been cast in this flick on account their acting ability, but because of the sizes of certain parts of their bodies and their willingness to bare those parts, and use them, in front of a camera.

I looked over at Brielle again. She looked back at me. That damned cushion hadn't moved. She held it in place with one hand; her other hand was hidden behind it. That arm was moving slightly, rhythmically. Evidently, she hadn't given up on getting herself off.

I didn't want her to feel compelled to do something (except for my chores, of course) against her better judgement, so I turned to her and said. "Are you sure that you want to—"

"Yeah," she interrupted, turning to me. "Mom and Dad aren't around. And I do want to watch the pros in action. Even with my twin brother. If you're okay watching porn with me, I'm okay about it, too."

"It's fine with me. I always like watching porn, no matter who I watch it with." As I said that, my own hand moved to my own crotch and started rubbing a bit. It felt good, but it wasn't really enough. I hadn't thought about that little drawback to watching porn with someone else—especially when that 'someone else' was my twin sister.

Brielle seemed unable to get over Hunk's equipment, even though she'd seen it before, and she asked, "Where did they find a guy—a good-looking guy—with a dick that big?" As she said that, she slid over to rest against me and rested her hand on my thigh.

"They're everywhere," I teased. "His is almost as big as mine."

She picked up the remote and paused the DVD. "I doubt it," she said. "You're playing with yourself through your pants, so you might as well show me."

That flustered me, and I started to mumble a reply.

"Oh, don't be an ass," she said. "It's just a dick. I've seen dicks before. And you're playing with yours, just like I'm playing with my pussy. Won't that feel better without the pants in the way?" She paused, while I thought about it. Before I made up my mind, she added, "Tell you what. If you drop through, I'll toss the cushion and you can watch me while I watch you."

I reached for my belt buckle. "That's a deal," I said, opening my jeans. My boner popped out as I took off my shoes, jeans, and undershorts. She set the cushion aside and kicked off the pants that had been around her ankles. With a dirty smile, she spread her thighs, giving me a less obstructed view of her crotch and the action in it.

She unpaused the DVD, and we sat there for a couple of minutes, each stroking slowly and comfortably, dividing our attention between the TV screen and what our sibling's hand was working on.

Babe dropped to her knees and directed Hunk's enormous boner into her mouth. She bobbed her head quickly and repeatedly, effortlessly taking in his entire length with each motion.

"Holy Shit!" I muttered, wide-eyed.

"Yeah! She got it all in!" Brielle marveled. And she leaned against me as she spoke.

Awe-struck, we watched the blow job.

Babe gave almost as enthusiastically as Hunk received, though he appeared to be a little more distracted than she.

"Where did they find a woman who can do that?" I asked. Instinctively, I put my arm around Brielle's shoulders and pulled gently. She moved closer, unthinkingly maybe, but without any hint of resistance.

And then she said, "Yours is nice. I'll bet your girlfriends have really liked it."

"Umm…" I said, a little surprised. After a few seconds, I said, "No one has ever complained. I like yours, too."

"Thanks," she said. And then she went on, "Yours is nice, but it's only a little more than half as big as his. With one like yours, I bet I could do what she's doing."

"No way!" I responded. It was a natural reaction; I hadn't thought at all before I said it.

"Way!" she answered. I turned and looked at her; she looked back at me; a mischievous smile appeared on her face as our eyes met. "Want me to show you?" As she spoke, she got off the couch, and knelt on the floor in front of me. I hadn't meant to issue a challenge, but she'd taken my remark that way.

"We shouldn't…" I said, half-heartedly. But I did want her to show me—wanted it very much. Of course we shouldn't; we both knew that. But—especially after we'd masturbated together while watching a little porn—the temptation was overwhelming. Naturally, I wanted her to get it all the way in, but I pretty sure I wouldn't mind if she turned out to be fibbing about being able to do that. And the continuing view on the screen—the view of Babe, taking Hunk's monstrous cock all the way into her willing mouth, again and again—didn't do anything to support my conscience in its unequal battle. So I didn't try to stop her as she grasped my cock.

"Why not?" she asked as she stroked a few times. "We're here alone. And you do have a nice one," she remarked. Then she let go, saying, "Scoot your butt forward so I can reach better."

Allured almost into helplessness, I obeyed her. Then I leaned back on the couch and parted my knees to make room for her as she moved between my legs.

Still smiling mischievously, she looked into my eyes. She flicked her lips with her tongue, and then, slowly, teasingly, she lowered her mouth toward me. She reached out, and, taking my cock in her hand again, she hinged it downward toward herself, so that it no longer pointed at the ceiling.

I made one more insincere effort to stop her. "We can't…" I began. But my protest was feeble, perfunctory; my heart wasn't in it at all.

She continued her descent, and, briefly, I reveled in the heat of her breath on my sensitive crown and in the thought of the approaching contact. And then…

And then her warm wet lips touched me, and all my thinking stopped. Still slowly, still teasingly, the heat and moisture of her mouth enveloped my crown. Involuntarily, I thrust forward, but she had anticipated that, and she moved with me—so that I didn't plunge myself into her throat more quickly and more deeply than she wanted.

She descended leisurely, just bit at a time, matching the reflexive motions of my hips, engulfing me gradually. The sensations almost paralyzed me and, except for what my hips did on their own, I couldn't move. Somehow, I kept my eyes on her. I felt, more than saw, that her eyes not only remained on mine, but sparkled with her amusement at the turmoil she caused within me.

After that endless descent, she accomplished her goal—it had become my goal as well—and she held my whole length in her mouth. She kept me there for another interminable moment, her lips against the base of my cock. I felt her tongue caress what it could reach. Then, slowly again, she backed me out.

When my cock glistened wetly in the open air once again, she smiled up at me and said, "So far, so good!"

Belatedly, I had some second thoughts; I found my tongue and said, "That's enough, you've convinced me!"

"Not yet," she replied. "I said I could do what she was doing. What I've done so far was just the start." And, taking one of my hands into each of her own, she descended, quickly and purposefully, to envelop my length again.

I should stop her, I thought But she held my cock—all of it—in her mouth for another interminable moment, and I responded as before: with paralysis. This time, instead of removing her mouth when she'd decided I'd had enough, she bobbed her head up and down, taking my whole length into her mouth with each downward motion. She did so as enthusiastically as Babe was doing with Hunk in the movie that still ran on the screen in front of me. And, almost helpless to do otherwise, I responded as enthusiastically as Hunk. My hips bucked in response to her efforts, and I moaned in unbridled lust and pleasure.

I wasn't Hunk, though, and our responses were different. He was older than I by a good margin, so he didn't have an eighteen-year-old's hair trigger. Moreover, as Brielle had observed, he was a pro. It wasn't very long—not even as long as the fragment of Babe's blow job that had prompted Brielle's demonstration—until the knot in my groin began to unravel.

"I'm coming! I'm coming!" I uttered. I wanted to take her head in my hands and force myself deep, deep into her throat, but she held mine tightly and prevented me from doing so. She knew what I wanted, though, and as my cataclysm began, she descended one last time, but on her own terms. Pressing her face against my lower belly, she took in my entire cock one last time—and held me there, almost swallowing my crown. I surrendered awareness of everything but the sensation of my cum erupting again and again—again, again, again and yet again, into her welcoming throat.

==||<>||==

Gradually, I realized that my shrinking cock was still in Brielle's mouth, and that she was massaging it with her tongue. For a minute or two, I lay there motionless, eyes closed, enjoying the sensations—very pleasant sensations, but muted, now, and no longer as compelling as they had been. At last, I opened my eyes and looked down to see her looking back at me, her eyes still sparkling as they had earlier. I glanced at the TV.

Babe was still pumping away at Hunk—so I couldn't have lapsed for very long. As I watched, Babe removed her mouth from Hunk and started to take off his shirt.

Seeing that I'd come back to myself, Brielle removed herself from my cock and, still kneeling between my legs, said, "That looked pretty good from here. Was it?"

"God, yes!" I answered. "That was as good as any girl's ever given me before. You've been practicing!" I gave her an appreciative smile.

"Maybe," she said, with a dirty little smirk. "And maybe next time, you should believe me when I tell you I can do something."

"If you say you can give me another blow job like that, I won't believe you," I answered, grinning. "You'll have to convince—"

"Jerk!" she interrupted. She placed a knee on the toes of one of my feet and quickly transferred most of her weight to it. It wasn't like being hit with a hammer, but it was pretty unpleasant.

I yelped. "Okay! Okay!" I said as she poised a knee over my other foot. "I'll believe you! I promise! But, even though I'll believe, I might politely ask for a demonstration—just to help you stay in practice."

She smiled as she put her knee back on the floor; there was an element of victory in her expression. "That's better," she replied. "And if you ask me nicely enough, I just might give you another demonstration. Just to show you that I still know what I'm doing." She smirked at me again.

The TV was beyond Brielle, right in my line of sight as I looked at her.

Babe and Hunk were now both naked and moving toward Babe's bed.

Seeing that the movie had diverted my attention, Brielle turned to look. After watching for a moment, she said, "She has huge boobs. Do you think…"

"I do think," I said. "If anybody has ever had a boob job, she has."

"Yeah, I think you're right," Brielle replied. "I've never seen boobs like that—not even close—on anyone in a locker room anywhere."

"Why do women do that?" I asked. "Tits that big aren't sexy—they're bizarre!"

"I don't know," she answered. "I wouldn't do it. Mine aren't as big as I'd like, but hers just look silly!"

I was going to say something about her nice tits (tits it now occurred to me I might see some time), but the action on the screen suddenly required my full attention.

Babe sat on her bed, lay back, and spread her legs. The camera zoomed in, and Babe's shaved pussy filled the screen in full technicolor.

That was a huge distraction, and I forgot whatever it was that I'd planned to say.

Hunk's head moved into the screen to block our view of Babe's apparatus; the camera zoomed back out and moved a bit to the side to show him burying his tongue in her slit. Soon, he licked just as enthusiastically as Babe had bobbed her head only minutes earlier. Hunk had enjoyed Babe's attentions silently; Babe was much more vocal. Her moans, whimpers, sobs, and cries filled her room.

Brielle grinned her mischievous grin. She picked up the remote from where it lay on the couch and froze the movie—stopping Hunk's tongue as it slid wetly over Babe's clit. She turned to me and looked into my eyes again. "You probably couldn't do that," she allowed. The dirty little smile appeared again.

There wasn't much question in my mind as to where this was going. Nor was there any question in my mind about doing what she had suggested: pussies fascinated me and, unlike some of the guys I knew, I enjoyed eating them. My cock, which had shrunk to its quiescent state, began to stiffen again at the thought of what we both now seemed to want.

I stood up and pulled her to her feet. We faced each other and, as I reached to finger her pussy, I smiled my own mischievous smile and I said, "I could do that with one like yours. Want me to show you?"

She put her arms around my neck. "As if hers is all that different from mine!" she replied, smiling. "But you do owe me." And she pulled me down for a deep, open-mouthed kiss before I turned her to face away from the couch.

Seconds later, she had pulled off the sweatshirt she'd been wearing. She hadn't been wearing a bra, so now she was naked. Automatically, I reached for her tits, cupped and massaged them. She moaned, grasped my upper arms, and reached for another kiss.

We pulled back from that kiss to look into each other's eyes. I squeezed her tits gently, enjoying their soft curved warmth and their weight in my hands. "These are just the right size," I said softly. "They're really nice to touch and hold." Meanwhile, she'd unbuttoned my shirt.

"Hold me, Brye, hold all of me," she pleaded, stepping up against me. "Hold me tight!" She smiled up at me as I relinquished her tits so that I could shrug off my shirt. I put my arms around her waist and pulled her nakedness against my own. "Yes, like that," she said as she put her arms back around my neck and reached for still another kiss.

My cock, fully hard again, slid up against her belly, and she squirmed against it as we kissed. The kiss ended, and she looked up at me from within the circle of my arms. She took her arms from where they rested around my neck and pushed gently against my shoulders. She gave me a dirty smile, and said, "You were going to show me something."

She wriggled out of my arms, and I knelt in front of her as she sat at the edge of the couch. She raised her knees and spread her thighs. Her outer lips parted just enough for me to see the structure they normally concealed. This was far from the first time I'd seen a pussy—I'd even been looking at Brielle's pussy a few minutes earlier. But I hadn't had as good a view, and the sight demanded my full attention. I sank to my knees in front of her, hypnotized.

I tore my eyes from her pussy long enough to look into her eyes, smile, and say, "I'm going to enjoy this almost as much as you are."

"I hope you do," she responded, as I bent, slowly and teasingly—in unconscious mimicry of her earlier actions—to bring my mouth to the juncture of her thighs and what awaited me there. She took my head in her hands and encouraged me to act more quickly, but the sight of her femininity transfixed me, and its scent entranced me.

I decided that I wouldn't be rushed, saying to myself, Take your time and enjoy it! There's no hurry. After all, a guy doesn't get invited to eat his sister's pussy every day.

"I hope you're going to enjoy it soon," she added, a bit impatiently.

"This part of you is wonderful…" I said as, still slowly, my lips drew nearer, nearer to her clit. Swollen with her desire, it projected slightly from the head of her cleft.

She writhed in expectation and her hips bounced up and down a bit as she tried, vainly, to bring herself in contact with my mouth. "Oh, God, Brian!" she almost shouted. "Don't make me wait any longer! Eat me! Now!"

There was no point, I decided, in tormenting her any more. I moistened my lips as I placed a hand under each of her thighs, near her knees, to support her raised legs. Then I leaned forward and gently kissed her clit. She breathed a long, noisy sigh as I fulfilled her anticipation. I extended my tongue into her cleft to stroke the folds within. As I did, she rolled her hips to press her mound against me. Another sigh escaped from her lips and the insistent hands on my head relaxed—though they remained in place, as if to make sure that I didn't abandon the task I'd begun.

That wasn't very likely. Gently, but with increasing firmness and vigor, I caressed her inner lips with my tongue. From time to time, I extended it into her sheath. She squirmed and writhed as tension built within her. I visited her clit more and more frequently, stroking a little more strongly with each touch.

Her moans, whimpers, sobs, and cries filled the room—as Babe's had filled it only minutes earlier. As her culmination approached, she lost our rhythm, and her hips bucked in short, quick, powerful strokes—pressing her clit repeatedly against my tongue. She arrived with a shriek, and her climax usurped all her purpose, all her reason, all her control. For longer than I would have believed possible, she thrashed, sobbed, and shouted as I continued tweaking the little protuberance at the head of her cleft.

Eventually, she relaxed, though her hands still held my mouth against the center of her pleasure. She moaned as she returned to herself, and she said, "Don't stop! That feels so good… But gently… gently…"

I continued for a while, caressing her clit softly as I listened to her moans. At last, after running her fingers through my hair, she removed her hands from my head. "That was so good, Brye," she said. "Somebody taught you well…"

I looked up at her, and raised my head, breaking the contact we had enjoyed so much. My cock was hard again—rock hard—in spite of the powerful orgasm she'd given me just minutes earlier. She looked back at me, smiling her satisfaction. She didn't move; her pussy, wet from my tongue and from her own emissions, glistened at me from between her parted thighs.

My hands still supported her legs as I brought my upper body to the vertical and shuffled toward her on my knees. I looked into her smiling eyes as I did so. I wanted, now, to bury my cock in the channel that lay open, inviting, before me.

But the couch was too high, and I couldn't enter her from my knees. Still looking her in the eyes, smiling back at her now, I pulled a foot under myself, in order to raise my cock to the level of her pussy. As I moved, she saw what I intended, and her expression changed to one of despair mixed with desire.

"No, Brye! Don't… We can't…" she said softly. "We can't fuck each other." Her tone reflected the mixed emotions her face displayed.

She tried to move her legs, where they lay in my hands. It felt as though she wanted to pull them down and bring them together—so that they would block my purpose. But her effort, like my protest earlier, was feeble and perfunctory.

Now that I was nearly lined up with her, I took a hand from her leg to grasp my cock and direct it. Again she voiced objection: "No. It's so wrong… so bad… We can't…" She spoke softly; in spite of what she said, her voice was filled with yearning. And she didn't move her legs, though one of them was now free of my supporting hand's restraint. Nor did she make any other effort to stop me. The expression on her face was unreadable.