Pete Doesn't Just Tell Me Ch. 01

It was beautiful! At least, I thought so, my first cock. What did he think about my pussy? He could only see my pubic hair. I didn't know what it looked like, but I sure knew how it felt, wet.

I had to struggle to get my legs out of my panty hose, and he had to shuffle out of his trousers and then take off his shoes and socks. We both probably could have done it faster, but we were looking at each other: I watching his cock bobbing as he moved, and feeling his eyes watching my breasts. Could he imagine how arousing it was to feel my nipples tighten like that? And when he sucked them? I didn't know yet, but I wasn't going to leave his room without finding out.

We stood there, looking at each other; his aroused cock, my arouse nipples. He couldn't see how wet my pussy was, but I wished he could, well, somehow see that I was as aroused as he was. We stared at each other, our eyes only meeting a couple of times between looking looking elsewhere. His were wide open. Oh, I liked it, having him see me. I was blushing a little, but more from feeling that what we doing was wicked. When he saw me stare at his cock, his hands moved, suggesting a reflex to hide it. I looked back up at his face. He had a somewhat uncomfortable expression, but smiled wryly.

"I'm just as aroused," I murmured: "just doesn't show, just here."

I touched my stiff nipples, rubbed a finger over them, and had to moan softly. He had to suck them! I step closer, and he did, and we embraced, his cock sliding up my belly, and kissed. Oooh, it felt good, two naked bodies clasped together, my breasts pressing against his chest, his cock twitching!

I didn't want it to be like that time when he came in his pants; I wanted to make him come, to see it. I don't know how the idea came to me; I urged him back towards the bed and murmured for him to sit down. He did, and I straddled his legs, drawing my knees up on the bed and sat on his lap, his cock sticking up between us. Had I anticipated that it would be easy for him to suck my aroused nipples in this position? I put my hand under one, raising it a little. He did, and held my other breast! Oh, it felt good, there too, making my thighs twitched together on his hips.

I grasped his cock. "Uhn-hnn!" he responded, nodding and sucking. Oh, it was arousing, what he was doing, and what I was doing! I was worried that I might drip on the bedspread, then recognized that it would only be on his legs. I don't know if I did, but when he was sucking my other nipple, he came. Barbs had been right: all over the place, on him, on me, and the first couple of times so much and up as high as my breasts, as his hips twitched under me. I loved it! Also the way he had almost bitten my nipple. When he released it with final moan, and looked up at me with wondering expression, I let go of his cock and rubbed it all over our stomachs, and then embraced him.

"Mmmm!" all sticky between us! But what now? This wasn't being like I had anticipated, however that had been. My wet pussy, now it was her turn, wanted to be rubbed.

I really don't know what suggested it to me; I urged him to lie back and dropped down to kiss him, having to move up a little on him. We kissed. In a reflex, I rocked my hips down. "Uhnn!" My pussy was on his cock, right where she wanted to be rubbed, or rub herself!

She did. Of course, I did, but it felt like she was doing it by herself. Wasn't the best thing to rub herself on a cock! He chuckled, as our tongues caressed, and my hips rocked. Oooh, they wanted to rub up and down the length of his cock, right up to its head! I moaned; it had twitched. Barbs had said that he could come again. Or had it been my brother that wrote that? Didn't matter! His cock was stiffer again, and she was rubbing herself on it where it felt arousing for her.

Yeah, his hands had slid down to my hips, helping them rock on his cock. Even if he didn't have any more experience than I had, he understood what she was doing, what she wanted. I raised my hips a little. She wanted me to. His cock pressed up, staying contact with her. I moaned with a nod, and he did the same. She didn't want just to feel him there, and rocked up over the head of his cock. There!! His cock twitched, and his hips rocked up. Yeah! There! She wants it in there!

He suddenly froze, holding my hips up and murmuring: "I don't have a rubber."

I loved him for that! I would have, she would have, too aroused to be able to stop. I gave a long moan and nodded. Frustration! I had never been so aroused, at least, not when I couldn't help myself to an orgasm. I rolled off him, my feet dropping to the floor. My fingers were rubbing her before I realized what they were doing. That wasn't supposed to happen, but she had to be rubbed. Too late to worry about what he could be thinking.

"Um-hmm," he agreed, however - good boy! - and rolled towards me, his stiff cock slapping down across my thigh. I grasped it with my other hand, thankful that I had happened to use the one further from him to rub my pussy. "Um-hmm," he agreed again, as I felt his hand on my thigh, closer down between them than his fingers had ever been before, and rubbing up closer to my pussy.

This wasn't like I had thought it would be: his putting a finger in my pussy, and my somehow telling him to rub where my fingers were. Well, he knew about that now, the way she had been rubbing on his cock and now with my fingers' rubbing her. His fingers crept closer to my pussy. I nodded with a moan, and one touched my pussy lip. Uhn-hnnn! I encouraged it. It ventured further, between them. I groaned with another nod. It found her wet opening, and I nodded again with another groan. And then I gave a longer groan, as I felt it slip into her, bigger than one of mine, felt almost as big as two of mine. God, she had just been waiting for that, squeezing it! Did I tell him to suck my breast again, or had he done it without my suggesting it? I was too aroused to recall, but he did, luckily not the one he had almost bitten before.

I hadn't imagined that an orgasm could be better than the ones I had given myself, but it was - so much better! Wetter than ever before, and we still hadn't really done it. Could that be even better?! And he had come again, it shooting across my thighs, some sliding down the outside of my far one and more, warm and wet on both of them. I had forgotten that I was holding his cock, but in my arousal I must have been doing the right thing.

My fingers stilled, and I grasped his hand, holding his finger in her, and felt her squeeze it again. I squeezed his cock, and we both sighed with long moans. I looked over at him and smiled, and he smiled. Maybe I didn't really love him, but I sure loved what he had done and what he had let me do.

I let go of his hand and rubbed his semen on my thighs. We both chuckled. Why did I lick my fingers again? I knew that it tasted peculiar. It did, of course, but like I had expected. He snorted in surprise. I gave him a wry smile. "If you wanted to," he murmured. I just shrugged, then thinking that "peculiar" was the right word: not like anything else, but also not necessarily bad. How else should it taste?

When I rolled towards him, we moved further back on the bed and embraced, our legs interlocking. For how long did we doze off? When we stirred and then were awake, we remembered that the Christmas party where his parents were wouldn't go too late. Hardly speaking, we quickly got up and used the bathroom. We had to chuckle as we both used the toilet, and then chuckled more, as we washed our stomachs, and I, my thighs. I probably should have washed my pussy, but didn't.

One of us suggested that we could still go the the school party, and we quickly got dressed. I had to brush my hair, and he suggested that I use his mother's hairbrush in the the other bathroom. That was a little ticklish, but I did, making sure there were none of my hairs left in it. Chuckling with smiles, we got our coats and walked to the school, just holding hands, not speaking, just exchanging clasps.

A couple of classmates asked, of course, why they hadn't seen us before. The first time, we just tried to look noncommittal. The next time, he smiled and replied that we had had to start the evening at a party with my family. We danced with the others, closer than most, until the lights were dimmed. When we saw silhouettes of others' kissing, we did, as good as we could, just chuckling when we felt his cock.

On the way home, we chuckled and murmured that the others could just be envious of us - if they only knew how my family's party had been. After a kiss at the door, both of us murmuring: "next time," I went in, turning off the last light, and went to my room.

In bed, I didn't have to do anything; it had been just so good, but I still had to hold my pussy and breast, as I recalled our whole evening. I really hadn't thought before how it would be, just that we would do more than we had before, but it had been so much better! I had really rubbed my pussy on his cock, and we almost had ... "Next time?" Would he have rubbers? If he did, was his cock bigger than three of my fingers? I held them. Maybe, but I still hadn't gotten three of mine in my pussy. Barbs had, in hers. How big was Pete's cock? And his was different, letting her rub his skin up and down. I fell asleep wondering about that.

Pete and Barbs got another progress report. Was I writing pornography? I just had to tell them everything, my thoughts too. At least, they didn't have to worry about someone else reading my letters. The reply was again a letter Mom could read and a sheet with their replies to what I had written. They were both delighted, each telling that it sounded a whole lot better than the first time they had been naked with someone and just "done it," They also praised my friend for not letting us do that without a rubber.

I replied immediately, telling that it was all because they had been so good about answering all my questions.

We couldn't do more before Christmas, since our parents were home. We had one more date and got our fingers wet in the dark. Of course, he couldn't really satisfy me that way, but when I tasted my fingers again, he tasted his and said that I tasted real good, chuckling and admitting that he had tasted himself, agreeing: "very peculiar." For me, it was becoming less peculiar; that was just the way it tasted, and I was pleased that I could give him his orgasm. I got mine in bed afterwards. I did taste good.

He had told me that he had rubbers. One afternoon, behind a hedge, he showed me one, and we had fun blowing it up. Wow, it was like three feet long! Someone would have been surprised, if they had seen how it flew; we were, afraid that it would catch on a limb of a tree. I wrote them about that too. Just before Pete came home, he replied, telling that he would give me some rubbers: "in case his run out." That was on just a slip of paper in his other letter.

A couple of weeks after my birthday, I had started to sleep naked, taking whatever I would have worn in bed with me, in case Mom woke me, and to make it look slept in. The first morning when Pete was home, I almost went in the bathroom naked, like I had been doing for weeks. Luckily, I heard that he was already in it and quickly found my shortie nightgown and panties. He was shaving, just in his shorts. I had to go.

I hadn't used the toilet with him in there before, and he hadn't with me in there, of course, but I really had to go. While my thighs were twitching, I quickly rationalized that I had written him about using the toilet with my friend, and that he couldn't see anything, and that after all our letters we were a lot more familiar, and so why not; Barbs probably did with him too.

"Got to go," I murmured, already reaching under my shortie to pull down my panties, adding:

"if you don't mind?"

He glanced at me in the mirror and shrugged with slight grin, remarking:

"Looks like it's too late for me to."

It was; a moment later my stream was hissing in the toilet bowl.

"Definitely too late," he murmured with a chuckle, glancing at me again. I nodded with an apologetic expression, then murmured:

"You and Barbs probably do too."

"Um-hmm, like you did with your friend. That was good, your letter; we had fun reading it."

"It was good; thank you again."

"Our pleasure."

I wiped myself and kicked off my panties; he wasn't going to be able to see anything when I stood up. He had rinsed his face and turned to grab his towel, just seeing them landing in the corner. He snorted with a wry smile and said:

"I guess so, can't see anything."

"What I was thinking. What do you wear in bed? I almost came in here naked."

I was a little surprised to hear what I had said, and he was too, first hiding his face in his towel. When he looked at me again, with a wry expression, he hesitated a moment and then said:

"Less than before."

"Hm-hmm! Like me, nice, and not just since we did it."

He chuckled with a smile, nodding. I nodded back with a grin and said:

"This is nice too, with you, with you and Barbs, all of it."

"We thought so too."

I had stood up and flushed, and was reaching down to find the hem of my shortie.

"I'd better leave," he remarked, moving to the door. I didn't raise it, replying:

"Yeah, I guess. Probably wouldn't see more than in my bra."

"Hmm! No, it didn't hide much. Hm-hmm! Hope he liked it."

"Like I wrote, he didn't get to see it in place until afterwards. Well, I didn't write that, but that he got to see them before that."

"Lucky guy."

We chuckled, and he left the bathroom, leaving the door open. I whipped off my shortie. Yeah, if he wanted to look, I wanted to let him. Why not; he had seen me in bra and panties since I started wearing bras, and in that bra, that had let him see my nipples - and how they looked when they were aroused. My panties only concealed my pubic hair. I fluffed it up unconsciously and took my shower. I never knew if he did look. I put my shortie back on before I returned to my room

The next morning was the same, except that we didn't talk about it. The following morning, I just wore my shortie, finding it silly to put on panties just to take them off again. He noticed, just shrugging with a nod. I remarked:

"Kind of funny, putting something on to go to the bathroom. No reason to wear them too."

"I guess not. I do."

"Of course, the interesting parts are different places."

He chuckled with a nod. I was again a little surprised when I added:

"And you've seen mine."

"Hmm! Almost," he replied with a smile.

I think it was then that I realized that I was suggesting that we see each other naked. Of course, the first morning I had been wanting to let him see me, but now I recognized that I was wanting to talk him into our both being naked. And then I remembered that he written that his cock was different from my friends. Yeah, I wanted to see it, and his last remark didn't sound like he would be upset, if I let him see my boobs without a bra. I hadn't show him them that morning, but maybe he saw that my nipples had popped under the thin cloth of my top.

The next day, or maybe that was Christmas Day; but this isn't about that. If so, then the next day. In bed the next morning, I was debating with myself if I dared to just walk in the bathroom with nothing on. By then, we had a routine, his being there shaving when I joined him. I didn't, just again in my shortie, but when he greeted me, glanced at me in the mirror as I sat on the toilet, they popped out, and I tightened the cloth over them. When he chuckled, I knew he had seen them and maybe recognized that I had wanted him to. I was going to let him see them the next day!

Then I surprised myself again, asking:

"Do you and Barbs do anything else?

I really didn't know what else they could do, just asked for something to say. He didn't just glance at me in the mirror, he turned his half-shaven face and looked at me with a surprised expression. I hadn't expected that kind of reaction. Later, however, I understood that he had probably assumed that I knew what I was asking about, but I hadn't, I didn't. He just stared at me, then nodded slightly, and turned back to the mirror. They did do something else!

"What?" I asked, just sitting there. He glanced at me in the mirror, continuing to shave.

"What?" I asked again. He snorted. Now, later, I think he understood that I really didn't know what I was asking about.

"Sometimes," he murmured.

"What?" I asked a third time, now very curious, since he seemed reluctant to say, but had admitted that they did.

"You've told me everything else," I murmured.

He snorted softly with a little nod. Was I going to have to ask again? I just stared at him in the mirror. No, once I glanced down at his ass in his shorts.

"Ouch!" he remarked suddenly. He had cut himself. Later, I assumed that it was because of my question. I didn't want to ask again and murmured:

"You do."

He nodded, and finished shaving, washed the soap off his face, and dried it before he looked at me again. After a moment, he murmured:

"Guess you don't know. Sometimes I lick her there."

"There?" He nodded. I think I was blushing, for sure, my nipples had popped out again.

"There!" I repeated, this time not a question. He nodded again.

"Really? You like it? Like to do it?"

He nodded again. Suddenly I was almost giggling. I caught my breath and said:

"Oooh! Really! If she tastes as good as I do ... Hm-hmm! A lot better that he does, or you must. Mmmm! I bet she likes it!"

He nodded again, a couple of times with smile. My thighs had twitched together on the toilet. I grinned and said:

"Oh, I would like that!" Then I scowled and murmured:

"Doubt if I can ask him to."

Pete smiled wryly and suggested:

"If he knows that you taste good ..."

I nodded, grinning again, and replied:

"He does; licked his fingers."

We both chuckled with grins. This was being good, a lot better than I had anticipated with my so innocent question. I had another one, but we'd talk long enough, if I was going to take my shower and get to breakfast on time. I stood up and flushed. He still hadn't left the bathroom. I started to pull up the hem up my shortie and asked:

"Want to see them, not just 'almost?"

I didn't wait for his response, just drawing the hem up slowly. Only when his eyes dropped down, did I realize that he could see my pussy, but it was too late to stop without making it seem that I was just teasing him. I pulled the hem up over my face, letting the cloth hide my boobs for a moment more.

"I'd better not," I heard him murmur. He was gone, when I pulled it over my head. Had he seen them, waited a moment to see them, seen me all naked? I took my shower. Whose hands did I want to fondle my breasts like mine were?

Despite our bathroom conversations and all else that our parents didn't know about our correspondence, at breakfasts with them, we unconsciously reverted to our old roles, also during the day.

That evening when we were in the bathroom to brush our teeth, still in clothes, I was surprised when he said:

"You didn't have to do that - this morning." It was the first time we mentioned at night what happened in the mornings. I was brushing my teeth and just grunted with a noncommittal wobble of my head; had a few seconds to wonder how to reply. I rinsed my mouth and then mumbled:

"You didn't mind."

"I should have." I smiled at him behind the towel on my mouth, but my eyes were smiling.

"But you didn't," I replied, when I lowered my towel. He gave a wry smile and admitted:

"Kind of hard to - even if you're my sister."

"You did look?"

"Hmm? Wasn't I supposed to?"