My Big Brother's Best Bud

A story of not only sisterly love but the love, compassion, and empathy between friends.

*********************************************

My older brother, Michael Jefferson, and Tim Northernton were best friends. My name is Amanda Jefferson, and for the longest time, Tim had considered me as simply Michael's annoying "kid sister."

Tim and my brother Michael had been friends since kindergarten and, over the years, had become as close as brothers, and because I was just a little girl and so much younger than they were, I was always trying to tag along after them. I didn't like Tim very much back then because it seemed he was the one who was always chasing me away and occupying Michael's time. It wasn't until I grew older and had my own friends that I finally understood my simple childhood jealousy of their relationship had spurred my animosity toward him for all those years.

Everything changed a few years after I graduated college. Michael (now Dr. Michael L. Jefferson) had been part of a small biological research team when he contracted a dangerous, life-threatening form of Malaria. Because of the long delay in getting him to a doctor and, eventually, to the US, Michael's condition deteriorated relatively quickly. Despite the medical attention and treatment, his body couldn't shake the illness, and he grew weaker over the next year. Michael's condition had left him depressed and bedridden; he was never fully able to recover and eventually succumbed to the disease and died.

After Michael's illness and subsequent death, I was so grateful to Tim for the love, attention, and genuine caring he had shown for Michael; I would have done anything for Tim because he had been there for Michael throughout his illness when he needed him most.

*****

Following Michael's death, Tim enlisted in the Marines and soon after was deployed. Aside from occasional texts to my parents, he and I had no meaningful interactions. Tim was discharged and returned home, and shortly afterward, he was involved in a near fatal car accident that changed not only his life but also mine.

We didn't find out Tim was even home until almost a year later, six months after his release from rehabilitation. It was purely by chance that I ran into Tim and saw for the first time that he was in a wheelchair. Though understandably surprised by his condition, I bent forward and kissed him on the cheek. We talked briefly and arranged to meet later in the week.

Tim was paralyzed from the waist down with a spinal cord injury and had been in a coma for several days after his accident. He could not feel the lower portion of his body when he regained consciousness. Though there was a possibility that his condition could improve, his care team, at that time, generally agreed that he would be confined to a wheelchair.

*****

Several months after coming out of his coma, Tim began feeling vague, fleeting sensations in his hips and thighs. Despite these improvements, it would still be almost a year or more before he regained full use and strength in his lower body. Though his injuries had changed him quite a bit, I could still see glimpses of the old Tim, and as the weeks passed, I tried to help out in any way I could, to be a good friend to him. Though he grudgingly accepted my help, he was adamant about my not feeling sorry for him and had no qualms about letting me know that he didn't need or want my pity and that he didn't want me around him if I couldn't keep my feelings under control.

Tim lived alone in a lovely single-story home that had been modified to accommodate his rehabilitation. He needed someone to help him with his physical therapy, bathing, housekeeping, shopping, doctor's appointments, etc., and as events would have it, because of my nursing and physical therapy background, his parents asked me to move in as Tim's companion. Tim had already gone through three or four companions since being released from rehabilitation, and his parents hoped that his knowing me and being comfortable with me would help him with his continuing recovery. Fortunately, I was more than willing and able to do this and agreed to their request.

Despite Tim's general resistance to the idea, I moved into his large, comfortable home a few weeks later. Our patient, therapist relationship wasn't perfect. Tim could be moody, contrary, and domineering, but above everything, he wanted to walk again, and he had decided that that was what he would ultimately do. He initially treated me as an employee, not as Michael's little sister, expecting me to be at his beck and call, to follow his wishes unquestioningly. Once we overcame that period of insecurity and embarrassment, we began to interact like the friends we were.

*****

During the initial stages of his home rehabilitation, Tim's doctors emphasized maintaining and strengthening his muscle function, redeveloping fine motor skills, and learning ways to adapt to day-to-day tasks. It was intense, consistent, and continuous work, but we finally began to see subtle improvements in his muscularity and movement.

By the time we progressed from his daily baths to my actually taking him into the shower, I had begun to embarrassingly notice that during these daily functions, Tim would experience the beginnings of a soft but obvious erection. A subsequent appointment with his Doctor confirmed that there was definitely an improvement taking place. With continued physical therapy, it was possible that Tim would also begin feeling increasing sensations in his legs. Surprisingly, I felt a strange sense of pride in his accomplishment. His ability to achieve an erection was returning; I was proud of him, and he was proud of himself and never made any effort to hide his erections from me.

Over the next month or so, Tim continued to improve. As I helped him dress one morning, he said, "Thanks to you, Mandi, I'm getting back to my old self, and squeezed my hand."

"I'm starting to have those feelings again . . . you know . . . between my legs," he said shyly.

"I know you've seen my cock getting hard when you help me bathe or shower, and sometimes I can feel myself becoming aroused when you give me physical therapy," Tim said, now without shame or embarrassment.

I didn't know quite what to say. "That's great, Tim, another definite sign that your body is healing and that, in time, you're going to be just fine," I finally managed to stutter out.

After nervously clearing his throat, Tim grew quiet for a second and began, "I want you to help me, Mandi. I need you to touch me down there . . . I need you to help me orgasm."

"What? What are you asking me to do, Tim?" I quickly interrupted him, despite already understanding what he wanted.

"Please, do this for me, Mandi."

I could feel a tightening around my heart. Tim had been Michael's best friend for so many years, like a brother, for as long as I could remember. Would Michael want me to help his friend in this way? In my heart, I knew he would.

"Mandi, help me cum. Just use your hand," he said again, his longing and lustful need apparent. My heart went out to him, and I found myself finally saying in a barely audible voice . . . "alright, Tim."

"Are you sure, Mandi?" he asked, curiously surprised by my acquiescence.

I nodded my head yes, then silently watched as Tim undid his pants and freed himself. Reaching out his hand to me, he urged me between his legs, where I knelt and momentarily stared at his now stiff member.

His cock was stiff and throbbing, its thick veins pulsing. I ran one finger up his erect penis, up to the crown, and his body tensed; his cock involuntarily jerked when I touched his cockhead. He was already dripping pre-cum that I spread over the head, making it wet and slippery.

"Mmmmmm," Tim sighed, and I looked at him, seeing his expression of excitement and pleasure. Finally, I gripped his penis and stroked slowly yet firmly with my right hand, cupping his balls in my left. I massaged them until I could feel them tighten and contract within his sac. It didn't take long.

I kept stroking, moving my hand faster and faster, and then . . .

"Agghhghhh!" he cried as cum burst out of him. Cum went everywhere. I watched as jet after jet of semen flew from him as his body jerked and twitched in a long delayed release.

The last few spurts of cum trickled down his shaft and covered my hand. As he rode out his orgasm, he closed his eyes, and his body shivered when I rhythmically squeezed and released his cock. As I waited for his breathing to return to normal, I lightly stroked his leg to reassure him and let him know everything was good.

Spent, Tim reclined back on the bed while I fetched a warm cloth and cleaned him.

"Thank you, Mandi," he said before he closed his eyes and quietly enjoyed the lingering sensations of his

orgasm.

*****

After that, I would jerk him almost every day, but please understand that despite the limited sexual intimacy involved in our relationship, it was a mechanical exercise I performed for him. When I first began as Tim's companion, I was not sexually attracted to him; I was there to help him. Still, I knew he enjoyed having me there despite his sometimes thoughtless, unfriendly, and even hostile attitude. It was only after his sexual awareness and ability began to improve did his attitude toward me also start to change. I gradually became aware of him watching me when he thought I was unaware or letting his fingers "accidentally" brush across my breasts or ass when he was close to me. These liberties did not upset me. If this made him feel better and reaffirmed his masculinity and confidence, I was happy to serve him that way.

From discussions with his Doctor, from the beginning, Tim was aware that because of his type of injury, he would notice progressive changes in his ability to achieve an erection and ejaculation. Tim slowly but consistently showed improvement, and though he did not have noticeable mobility in his legs, he had begun feeling increasing sensations in his thighs. Most satisfying to him was his readily observable erectile sensitivity and sexual functionality. It wasn't unusual to enter his room in the mornings and find him with "morning wood" or when stripping his bed to find soiled bedding resulting from a nocturnal emission. Not surprisingly, he was never embarrassed by these occurrences; he seemed pleased with himself and eager for me to witness his demonstrated improvement.

*****

The weather was warming up, signaling the summer's approach. It was a beautiful, warm morning, and after getting Tim up and ready for his day, I told him I thought it would be fun if we took the short drive to a small lake not too far from the house for a picnic.

It was already close to noon when I parked the car, and we strolled along the path toward the lake. We finished our lunch and were stretched out, enjoying the sun, when Tim took my hand and said, "I don't think you have any idea how I feel about you, Mandi. I trust you and have always had special feelings for you, maybe . . . maybe because you were Michael's little sister, he said and laughed softly." Tim became quiet before adding, "I just wanted to tell you that. You don't need to say anything." Looking at me with a kind, gentle expression in his eyes that I'm sure he wasn't even aware of, Tim closed his eyes and was shortly dozing in the warm afternoon sun.

I was taken by surprise by what he had shared, but I also knew that whatever he thought he was feeling for me was . . . was simply a feeling of gratitude for my having been here to help him work his way back to his former self.

I smiled at his soft snoring and watched him as he slept. Without realizing it, I had been staring at and fantasizing about the mound that was noticeably tenting the front of Tim's pants, and I, for the first time, I think, could feel a tingling and wetness growing between my legs.

Leaning over him, without thinking about the consequences of my actions, I unzipped his pants and eased his cock through the opening of his shorts. Tim stirred but did not awaken as I lowered my mouth to his groin and gently sucked the head of his cock between my parted lips.

Slowly, unhurriedly I suckled his cockhead, letting my tongue flick across and trace the surface of his crown. It felt wonderful, his scent, the vague saltiness of his pre-cum, the feel of his sticky fluid as it coated my tongue. Tim began to grow harder and gradually fill my mouth with his girth as I moved my mouth up and down his cock shaft, licking the length of his cock with each motion. Tim moaned, and I pulled away. After a moment, I put my mouth over his cockhead again and began to suck him while my tongue teased the tip. I kept taking more of him into my mouth until the head of his cock touched the back of my throat.

Lifting my head away from his cock, Tim's moans turned to deep male whimpers, and when I looked up, I saw his eyes were open. Lowering my mouth again, I started lightly, gingerly nipping his swollen cockhead with my teeth.

"Oh shit . . . oh fucking shit Mandi," he mumbled.

Tim's rested his hand on the back of my head as he urged it downward. As I inhaled the musky scent of his maleness, knowing he was awake and aware of what I had been doing, I became even more aroused and moved my fingers lower and began to rub my clit.

"Hmmmm . . . I love the way that feels. I've been waiting a long time, wanting to slide my cock into your mouth and feel your warm, wet mouth on me."

A bit surprised by his confession but inwardly excited, I sat speechless.

"Don't worry, I . . . I won't cum in your mouth. I don't even know if I could if I wanted to," Tim said.

"No. No . . . I want you to," I said inexplicably, feeling tears welling in my eyes.

"Don't. Why are you crying?

"I don't know," I said truthfully and momentarily held my breath when Tim began swaying his hips and moving his cock in and out of my mouth.

*****

He started to stroke with a tentative and then a more confident thrust. He grew harder as he became more excited in anticipation of finding relief. I felt him going deeper and his body tensing as it readied for a powerful ejaculation.

"Mandi, on my god Mandi," he said in a trembling voice as he held my mouth down on his cock and began spewing what felt like copious amounts of cum. It seemed to go on for a long time until he had drained himself, and even then, he did not release my head.

"Ughhhh, ughhhh," he groaned as his stroking slowed and finally stopped. Tim opened his eyes and looked at me.

"Was that okay?" I asked, immediately feeling silly, having asked such a stupid question.

"It was incredible, Mandi, incredible."

"It felt good?" I asked again, needing reassurance that I had pleased him.

"Oh God, yes," he said. "I haven't had oral sex in a long time, Mandi, you know that. Frankly, there was a period when I had begun to think I'd never be able to cum in a woman's mouth, to feel that warm, moist tightness again."

After a year and a half of rehabilitation and hard work, Tim was on his way to a full recovery. As his body healed, so did his attitude, disposition, and self-confidence. Sexually, we had taken it slow, letting his physical improvements dictate our level of sexual activity. One day, while driving us home after a doctor's appointment, he turned to me and said, "You know, all I seem to think about lately is making love to you. I . . . um, I was thinking maybe I want to start having sex, maybe it was time we had sex."

*****

I will never forget the first time we actually had intercourse.

Sitting on the side of the bed, Tim had drawn me between his legs, reached under my skirt, and pulled my panties down. Rubbing his large hands over my bare ass and then between my legs, he told me he wanted me to sit in his lap. After straddling his legs, I leaned forward so that my breasts pressed against his chest, and I could feel the front of his stiffening cockshaft rub against my clit. Tim stroked the fat head of his cock up and down my lips and then set it at the dripping entrance of my pussy. I closed my eyes when I felt the head of his big cock spreading me open. He could feel how wet and hot I was for him. Tim ground his teeth when he drove his rod into me, lifted my hips, and eased them down onto his cock as he slipped inside me. I felt his stiff maleness entering my velvety channel, and my pussy grew exquisitely tight as it contracted and squeezed his cock with each stroke.

Tim began to pump his hips forward, thrusting up into me hard and fast, further verifying his recovery and muscular flexibility as I moved my hips to meet each thrust. Tim was trying not to cum, and was attempting to hold himself back, but it was a losing battle. My pussy clamped tightly around his dick, making him gasp and his control weaken. Tim finally came, crying out with relief as he spent himself inside my eager, welcoming sheath. He began pumping load after load of thick, creamy cum deep inside me, filling me to overflowing until it began seeping out. Impaled on his cock I could feel my body suck him deeper and deeper with each thrust, wanting to hold him inside me while my pussy milked the cum out of his balls and through his cock.

I began to tremble as my orgasm approached.

*****

The weeks passed quickly, and soon the end of summer approached. We had been out walking, and despite strolling for nearly an hour, Tim was not tired and said he was not ready to head home, even though I cautioned him not to overexert himself.

We stopped and stood for a moment resting, when he said, "you look good in that dress . . . I like how it fits you." Tim slipped his hand into the bodice of my dress, pinching my nipple to hardness before cupping my breast. I was wearing a casual yellow and white sleeveless sundress imprinted with tiny flowers. The dress had a full skirt, thin shoulder straps, and a scooped neckline that nicely displayed the pale mounds of my cleavage. Tim had always liked this dress from the first time I'd worn it.

Taking my hand, Tim found an area that provided privacy before he urged me down onto the soft cool grass beneath a large shade tree. Pressing me onto my back, he slid his hands under my dress and pulled my panties down and off one ankle. Stretching out on top of me, I could feel his erect cock sliding up and down along the length of my pussy slit, making me moan with pleasure.

"My goodness, how things had changed in such a short time," I thought.

I reached down and spread my pussy lips for him as I helped guide him inside me. He pushed into me. I began to quiver when he placed his cock at my opening and gently pressed its head inch by inch into me, stretching me open wider. His cock easily sank into me as he thrust forward. It excited me even more when Tim began to grunt as he slammed into me deeper.

I could feel the warmth of the afternoon sun and the sweat between my breasts, and at that moment, I thought how hard it was to believe that he had been unable to move his lower body just a year earlier.

I was now lying under him, my pretty yellow sundress bunched up above my hips, panties down around one ankle, and my slim legs spread open for him. Tim reached down and held my hips when I began to cum a few minutes later. My pussy started slowly milking his cock, squeezing, then relaxing, as he grew bigger inside me. Finally, the pressure building in his balls demanded release, and with a deep guttural moan, Tim shot his load deep and high up into me. With me pinned to the ground by his weight, he continued to empty himself. When he was done, he stayed inside me. When he eventually pulled out, his cum gushed out of me and dripped down, pooling on the grass between my legs.