Pete Doesn't Just Tell Me Ch. 02

"You wanted to taste it?"

"Um-hmm. About like his. Yeah, tastes funny, but about like I expected. Hmm? I guess, the way it should. Kind of want to, after doing it."

"Hmm? If you say so. She doesn't."

Obviously, he had now remembered that I had done it for him and hadn't been upset about it.

"Good?" I asked.

"Too good. ... We shouldn't have."

"You've said that all day, maybe once too often this evening. Didn't seem like you really didn't want me to."

He squeezed my breast and murmured:

"I guess not. ... Too late to worry about that now."

"Um-hmm."

He squeezed my breast again in agreement. We lay there for a few moments, my hand back on him, around him, hugging him. I had told him that he didn't have to do anything, not that I didn't want him to. I rubbed his side and murmured:

"You don't know how arousing that is, for me, doing it, my thighs twitching. I'm all wet."

I rubbed his side again, and he squeezed my breast, and I slid my thigh up over his. He rolled his to the side between mine, and I squeezed it. It was just a natural reflex to feeling something between them, and another one, to rock my hips up. He chuckled softly and murmured: "Like she does."

I squeezed his thigh again and replied:

"I guess all girls just like to feel something between their thighs."

We both chuckled, and I rocked my hips up again, wanting to remind him what I said about my pussy. Good brother, he chuckled and squeezed my breast again, then murmuring:

"I know -- it's being arousing -- when I do that to her, it is for me too, if you know what I mean."

"Hm-hmm! Like it was already in the bathroom. I liked that; got to see it."

"You sure did. Hadn't you been wanting to all along?"

"Not quite 'all along,' but yes, then I was more curious, when I remembered that yours wasn't like his."

"Now you know."

I rubbed his side and rocked my hips up again, drawing my thighs up a little to hold his better. When they relaxed, he drew his up a little between mine. I hummed with a nod on his arm. This was being so good; he was being so good about it all! Had he wanted to "all along," at least since I was naked, maybe just since his first "we shouldn't"? He squeezed my breast again, this time not in response to anything I had done -- to something he was thinking? I rubbed him again and rocked my hips and murmured:

"You could do that to me."

"You said I didn't have to do anything."

"I didn't say that I didn't want you to. How do you do it?"

He gave a questioning "hmm" and squeezed my breast again, and my thighs clenched together on his. I murmured again:

"How? I would like that."

"How? Different ways, well, just however is most convenient."

"And like now?" I asked, rubbing my hand and rocking my hips.

"You really want me to?"

"Of course! Like I really wanted to do it to you."

"You sure did."

"And you know how arousing it was for me, well, how it is for you."

"Hmm! Um-hmm," and he squeezed my breast again, then murmured:

"Yours is a little bigger than hers."

"My nipples too?"

Good brother, he took the hint to rub his fingers over mine. I moaned softly with a nod. When he caught it between his fingers, I moaned and nodded again, and then murmured:

"That feels so good. I loved it when he sucked mine."

"Hm-hmm, I bet he did to."

"Like you do, like you like to do that to her?"

He just squeezed my nipple; he wasn't going to give me a more encouraging reply. I grasped his side and pulled myself up over him, but when he helped me lie on him, I knew he was not just acquiescing to what I wanted, his hands then holding my ass. God, this was good, lying naked on him and his hands holding my ass! Did they help me move up on him? When my mouth found his in the dark, he gave a surprised little "uhn!" but then let my tongue find his. A moment later, his was as eager as mine.

We weren't brother and sister, just two naked bodies pressed together, two eager mouths and tongues kissing the best way they could, and his hands clutching the cheeks of my ass. When my hips rocked down, they got a better grip and encouraged them. I felt his cock touch my thigh. His hands urged me to move up further on him. Yeah, we didn't want his cock too close to my pussy, I managed to remember to think, but he could suck my nipples. I pulled myself further up on him, our mouths separating, but he knew what I wanted; his hands helped me move further up, and his mouth found one of my nipples.

I moaned, and he sucked and licked. He couldn't do it better than my friend had, but - hell! - every kid knew how to do that! Girls too! Lesbians must also do it; and they knew how good it was feeling for each other! I moaned, and he was humming, and he started to suck and nibble on my other breast without my suggesting it. He had more experience than my friend. Had Barbs had to tell him the first time? But now? As arousing as it was, he also knew this wasn't as good as what I had done for him.

Oooh! His hands were urging me to move even further up on him. Oh! Like this, my hips over his face? Is that how they did it, the most convenient way from where we had started? Any way he wanted to, that he wanted to! Would my pussy taste like hers? He was going to find out; it was already so wet again.

"Mmmmm!" I felt his tongue lap the length of my aroused pussy lips and heard him hum. He liked it: my pussy, the way it tasted. And it felt like his tongue knew what it was doing; there was nothing tentative about how it explored between them. God, he must really love to do it! And he knew how to make it arousing for me. Was his tongue trying to fuck in my wet hole? I knew that it must be very wet, from having had my fingers in it so often.

"Oooh! Uhnnn!" and there, where the fingers of my other hand would have been, but so much better, his wet tongue doing everything my fingers liked to do, that my little button liked them to do, but it was being more arousing: a tongue wanting to do it, someone wanting have his mouth on my pussy and taste it and wanting to arouse it!

I moaned, and my hips twitched, and I felt him hum deep in his throat. This could go on for ever! But my thighs were quivering, a sure sign that it wouldn't. Was it going to better than when I had my fingers in my pussy?

Could it be?! It could! It was! Even without my fingers rubbing in there, I knew my pussy was wetter than it ever had been before, and the wet sounds his tongue was making confirmed that.

"Uhnnn!" If he only knew how good it was, had been! I dropped down on my hands and turned my pussy away from his mouth, gasping and moaning. He also moaned, rubbing my ass with his hands, fondling the cheeks of my ass, his fingers all over them, even rubbing at the base of my spine. After I stopped gasping, just sighing with satisfied moans, I moved back down his body. I had to kiss him again. Before my mouth found his, I tasted that he had my pussy juice all around it.

It was just a better thank-a-you-kiss. Then I murmured:

"God, Pete, that was good! I hope she tried to tell you how good; I can't."

He hugged me and nodded, murmuring:

"She said it was better than some of the first times with guys, and with me, but then said that it was usually better the other way."

"Just 'usually'?"

"Don't think it is always going to be the ultimate every time."

"Then just do that."

"You weren't thinking that we were going to do anything more?"

"No, of course not, especially now that I know you can do it this way so good."

"But you were?"

"Weren't you, asking that?"

"Hmm? Impossible not to, a little. Hmm? Maybe good that you asked me to do that."

"I sure think so, and I didn't know it was going to be so good, better -- a lot better -- than what I can do or what he does."

"Hm-hmm! Have to tell him what else to do."

"Hope I can, just don't know how I can avoid his wondering how I got the idea."

"Hm-hmm! Read about it in a book you shouldn't have read."

"Name one."

"She didn't tell me. We'd better go to bed, you in yours."

"Aw, it so much nicer here with you."

"And with you too, I'll admit, but still ..."

We kissed again and said goodnight, and I reluctantly got off him and found my way back to my room. When I stepped on my bra, I searched around on the floor and found my panties and put them on the chair. Lying in bed, I had to hold my pussy and breast, as I fell asleep trying to recall all the details of what we had done.

In the morning, I didn't wait for him to take his shower. I surprised him, when he was still standing at the toilet. I hadn't intended that.

"What are you doing here so early?" he asked, shaking his cock.

"Sorry. Seen my friend. Just didn't want to wait to thank you for last night."

"Hmm? You too, but we shouldn't again."

"You said that too often yesterday. Maybe we shouldn't, but we know we will; it was too good."

"Why we shouldn't."

"Pretty poor excuse."

He frowned, but with a wry smile. I was feeling like I could say or do anything I wanted. I chuckled and said:

"You can watch me -- in the shower -- to even up that."

I stepped in the shower and grinned at him as I relaxed and let my stream arch out. He did watch, with wry grin. As it was dying down, he snickered and said:

"You'd better take your shower first to wash your feet."

I grinned with a nod and did, not closing the shower curtain. This was being more fun than I had thought, when I got up. He watched me wash myself, and I enjoyed that he was, enjoyed making it entertaining for him, more than just washing my breasts and pussy. His cock also wanted to watch, its head peeking out. Oh, it was good. He could say "we shouldn't" as often as he wanted, we would. We didn't have to talk about it -- around it -- any more.

When I started to dry myself, he started his shower, both watching each other, exchanging mild smirks -- when we weren't looking elsewhere. I thought he could have made washing his cock a little more interesting. When I dropped my towel on the wet floor, he nodded and closed the shower curtain, and I went to my room.

We survived breakfast and the day with our parents. It wasn't really too difficult, since we had been sort of practicing for days. That day was just another one, even though we had a lot more that we could be embarrassed about.

In the evening, as we turned to our rooms, I murmured:

"You know we will; don't have to say anything."

He didn't reply, didn't nod, but instead of taking turns using the toilet, we were both there, both already naked. He gave me one of his wry smiles, nodding slightly. I just smiled sweetly, then watching him use the toilet. His watching me was nothing new and nothing to see, but when I got my washcloth and washed my pussy, he nodded with slight smile. I should have done it the night before, but I hadn't known that he would be licking my pussy. How did pee taste? Oh, he probably didn't taste it; my pussy had been so wet when I was holding his cock and then again, when we were kissing.

While he was brushing his teeth, leaning over the washbasin, I resisted my urge to put my arms around his waist and hold his ass to me. It occurred to me, that if I had done that, I could have also reached down and held his cock. When he had finished and turned around, it was bigger than it had been when he was using the toilet. I like that, of course, but I wanted to hold it when it was all small and feel how it was to play with its loose skin when it was like that. Another time, maybe after I had made it shoot all over the place again.

I started to brush my teeth. Leaning over the washbasin, I was suddenly very surprised to feel his hand on my hip, then his other one. I hummed in my surprise, but nodded. His hands seemed to be appreciating the swelling of my hips from my waist. I was very delighted that he hadn't resisted the urge to touch me, but it was making it difficult for me to concentrate on brushing my teeth - very, feeling his hands holding my waist! Did he do that with Barbs? Was that view of me so attractive, maybe more attractive than the view of her ass, probably smaller and harder -- being a runner? Oooh! His hands were sliding further around me, on my stomach!

"If were going to," he murmured, and his hands slid up to my breasts, and I felt his hips touch mine.

"We are," I mumbled with my toothbrush in my cheek. I tried to keep brushing, to avoid disturbing whatever he wanted to do, Tried to brush my teeth, while his fingers were arousing my nipples?! And not just his hips were touching me, I felt his cock touch my thigh, slide and touch both of them! It wanted to get between them! My thighs twitched together, an aroused reflex; they should have twitched apart and let it.

I had to rinse my mouth, and did, managed to, despite his arousing my nipples and my feeling his stiff cock twitching against my thighs. God, he had forgotten all about "we shouldn't"! All about it? Everything, letting me feel his cock there?! If I spread my thighs, it felt like it would spring right up against my pussy, and it felt like it wanted it, already wet, wanting something in it!

I managed to turn around with my wet face and murmured:

"We shouldn't, at least not that."

I had turned in his arms. He looked relieved that I had defused what he apparently couldn't, and embraced me, his stiff cock caught between us. We looked at each other, both taking a long, deep breath, our stomachs pressing together. He nodded and murmured:

"'At least not that'."

But everything else?" I asked softly.

He nodded, and we separated enough to go to his room, turning off the light in the bathroom. In the dark, we found his bed. I thought it would be like the night before, but he rolled towards me and embraced me and kissed me. We kissed.

It is hard to think about anything, the way we were kissing, but I was: "everything else," anything else? What could that be? Just not "that." Anything he wanted; he now was as eager as I was to do whatever we could -- just not "that." And if he wanted to do that? His cock would; my pussy would!

Our legs were interlocked, drawn up, his thigh almost touching my pussy. I didn't have to tell him again that girls liked to have something between their thighs. His hand had slid back around my side and found my breast. Did he want to suck them again, and then lick my pussy, without waiting for me to make his cock shoot all over? But then he retrieved his tongue and murmured:

"You asked if we did anything else."

"Um-hmm, you showed me."

"She does something else too."

"Oh! Yeah, I wanted to ask. What?"

"She licks and sucks it."

"Your cock?!" Had I used that word before, talking to him?!

"Um-hmm."

"And she likes it, to do it?"

"Um-hmm."

"Uh, and does she, well, you know, swallow?"

"Doesn't let that happen, doesn't like it."

"Doesn't like the taste? That must be frustrating."

"Oh, then we really do it, so that's all right."

"But if ... since we aren't going to do that ...? You want me to?"

He just nodded, squeezing my breast. I had learned that that was his agreement to questions that he didn't want to answer with words.

"But she likes to do it, sucking and licking?"

"Um-hmm. I do too."

Yes, he told me about it, because he wanted me to do it. But if ... since we weren't going to do what they then did, did he want me swallow, let it shoot in my mouth? What was it going to be like? "Was," not "would be"? Had I already decided I would do it? It seemed so. I had been thinking for too long; he murmured:

"You don't have to."

Have to what? Lick and suck, or was he also thinking about my swallowing, probably? I murmured:

"Tastes peculiar, but, well, that's just the way it tastes; I guess the way it's supposed to taste -- of course. Funny! I mean, I didn't like some kind of French cheese the first time I tasted it, but all the grownups thought it was good, very special, so I tried it again, and, well, then it did. I like it now. Hm-hmm! And raw oysters, the same thing."

He chuckled, squeezing my breast again. Nice, that we had found this way for him to avoid using words to say something he shouldn't to his sister, like asking her to suck his cock. I rubbed his back and murmured:

"You let me do what I wanted; I want to let you do what you want. I really want to; if she likes it, I will, even that too, I think, hope."

"Me too, but you don't have to. I'll understand, if you change your mind."

"Hm-hmm! Like the cheese and oysters, I won't know if I don't let you."

We both chuckled, almost laughing. I chuckled again and remarked:

"Remember when we were kids, playing with water pistols. I guess it's going to be like that time I squirted in my mouth."

"Um-hmm! But the pistol didn't know how good it's going to be for me, for mine," and he chuckled again, but added:

"But you don't have to."

"I want to," I replied, now entirely sure that I was going to let his "pistol" squirt in my mouth.

He began to turn around on the bed.

Both of us, at the same time?" I asked.

"Um-hmm."

"Oooh! Nice!"

He grasped my hips with both hands and pulled me down the bed. When he drew his thigh up, suggesting I rest my head on it, I understood to do the same, and raised my other thigh. His hand urged me to draw it up past his shoulder and then slid back to my hip. He drew my hips closer, his head sliding up my thigh.

Oh, this was going to be good; both of us doing it, almost like really doing it, and Barbs had said that what he did was sometimes better than that. Did he do it better than some other guys? He did it as good as I could imagine, and he was already!

My hand found his cock, not really stiff any more, and all that loose skin. I licked it. He nodded with an emphatic "Uhn-hnn!" Fun, licking over its little slit and around the fold of skin around its head. Suck. I pressed my head forward, my lips sliding around it, pushing back the soft skin. He hummed and nodded again. Now my lips were in the groove around it, and it was stiffer, its head fuller, now all firm, just inviting to be licked and sucked. Was I doing it right? Right enough to make him nodded again.

And he was doing it right, of course! I was going to have to try not to be distracted, if I wanted to enjoy finding out what it was like to suck a cock. It was really stiff now, just in the second or two while I was thinking about that. What to do? Suck and lick, and rub it, like my hand did, like it would in a pussy. In my pussy? We weren't going to do that, why I was going to make it squirt in my mouth, his cock-pistol. I suck it deeper in my mouth, nodding my head, and he nodded his on my thigh with another hum. Now all the loose skin was shoved back, letting my hand rub too.

Did it feel for him like really doing it? Hold it tighter; it was bigger than my two fingers in my pussy; it would be very tight around it - tighter than hers? He had written that she had had three of her fingers in hers.

"Uhnnn!" Don't distract me like that, as good as it feels, too arousingly good to let me concentrate on making it good for you. As much as I want it, I know how that's going to be, but not how it's going to be here. Distract him, try to. It's going to be the first time he get's to shoot his pistol in a mouth; he should be wanting to enjoy it without trying to make it so good for me.

I sucked and rubbed, remembering that the most sensitive place on his cock was where I couldn't lick, but could I rub it on my pallet? I tried, turning my head back. Not quite, but deeper in my mouth? Almost too far: "aung!" a gagging reflex, but he moaned and stopped licking! If that was good, try again, more carefully. "Uhnn!" he responded. There again, but with less of that reflex, and he moaned again, clutching my ass with his hands. And there again, this time with no unpleasant reflex, but with another of his moans.