Step-Siblings Sexual Tutorials

Laying back on the bed, quite literally spent, I looked up with, what I suspected, was a huge grin on my face.

"Actually," I confessed, that was more than usual. In fact that was almost certainly the most powerful climax I've ever experienced."

"Do you think that was because of me?" she wondered, blushing as she asked.

"God yes, of course," I spluttered in reply, "that's the most exciting thing, sexually, that's ever happened to me... so far at least," I concluded, with a shy smile.

"Well, I'm very pleased to hear that," she responded, with her chest (still wonderfully on display) almost visibly puffing at the complement. "It was pretty exciting to watch too," she confessed. "I'm so glad you let me."

Bu then I think the enormity of what we'd just experienced started to sink in. So we rushed to get dressed, in an awkward silence.

But, as she was in the doorway, about to leave, Sally looked back. "Do you mind if I ask, but how often do you that?" she inquired shyly.

"Well, most days, I would imagine." Then, determined to be honest, after what we'd just shared, I continued. "Actually everyday, sometimes more than once a day."

"Crikey, I thought that might be the case. I'd heard boys liked playing with themselves. But I wasn't sure."

After a brief pause, Sally shocked me further. "Would it be OK if I watched you when you do this again?" Once more, blushing furiously. But, this time, she was at least able to maintain eye contact.

Expanding on her thoughts she explained, "I want to get a good sense of what boys like to do to themselves. So that, when I get a chance to do it myself, I'll have some idea."

"OK," I laughed, "so you'd be viewing this as some form of tutorial?"

My confidence had been bolstered enormously by the clear delight Sally had taken in watching me masturbate. And, unless I was mistaken, the appreciation she had for my cock. Plus the interest she had in learning more about the functionality of male genitals (or cock as we were now calling it). And, seemingly, mine in particular. Even if, I guess, a large part of the appeal was the fact I was "on site", available and as desperately inexperienced as she was.

Over the last few weeks I'd been viewing Sally, very much, as a sexually desirable young woman. In the last half hour or so, it struck me that she was probably viewing me in a similar light.

In a demonstration of this growing confidence and comfort with the situation I made another suggestion.

"Actually, if you want to get some practice in, on a real life male, you've only got to ask."

Sally coloured up again, before answering, "that's a kind offer. But I think, for now, I'll just sit and watch."

I liked the sound of the "for now" part. But I didn't push my luck. Instead, I made a suggestion to repeat this the following day.

"I often have a wank after school," I informed Sally. "If we are both back early tomorrow, before our parents get back from work, why don't we do this again then?"

"Ok," she agreed readily, "it's a date." Then, continuing sadly, "actually, that's as close to a date as I've ever got."

"Hey," I responded, "don't feel bad. That would be exactly the same for me too. But, look on the bright side - for me anyway - that's a date where at least one of us is guaranteed to get off."

Punching me on the arm, an act that I found strangely intimate, Sally grimaced, "fine for you, I guess."

"Look," I insisted, "there's nothing to stop you joining me in playing with yourself." A suggestion that, as soon as I'd said it, made me cringe with embarrassment. But was another illustration of my rapidly burgeoning confidence.

Sally's reply once again took me a little by surprise.

"Actually, perhaps I will do that one day," before it was her turn to lose confidence and rush out of the room in embarrassment.

That evening at dinner we were both, once again, uncomfortably quiet. But, as before, this either passed unnoticed, or certainly not commented upon, by our parents.

That evening in bed I reflected, with astonishment, on the seismic change in our relationship. But also looked forward to what I hoped would be further sexual developments between us. As difficult as it was, I refrained from masturbating again. I'd seen the pleasure Sally seemed to take in the amount I ejaculated. And I knew that an evening of abstinence would make tomorrow's climax that little more powerful.

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I raced home from school the next day and was delighted to see that Sally was already home. As excited as I'd been all day I was now, once more, struck with nerves and crippled with shyness. But the thought of seeing her tits again gave me a considerable incentive to overcome this.

Seeing Sally in the kitchen, as I dropped my school bag, I sensed that she was similarly afflicted. But I summoned up my courage and made a quiet suggestion.

"Do you fancy going upstairs again?" I managed to croak.

"Oh, yes please, I'd like that," she responded encouragingly.

So off we trooped, back to my bedroom. Closing the door behind us I looked Sally in the eye and swiftly, before I lost my nerve, stripped off. Nervous as I was I was still flaccid. But that changed as, following my lead, Sally quickly peeled her jumper off, unbuttoned her blouse and unleashed her tits. As soon as I saw them again my dick reared in front of me, going from limp to fully erect in seconds.

"Oh my goodness," Sally laughed, "that thing has a life of its own. was that because you saw my boobs again?" she asked shyly.

"It certainly was," I agreed, "as I told you yesterday, they are just perfect."

With this compliment, entirely justified as it was, causing Sally to blush furiously.

"That means a lot to me," she answered in a whisper. "No-one has ever said nice things about the way I look. It makes me feel really funny when you say things like that.

"Mind you," she smiled, "its only my tits you like. And by the way, I'm going to call them tits, not boobs. Even using language like that makes me feel funny. Anyway, as I said, you're only focusing on my tits, not the rest of me," she concluded, with a mock pout.

"Ok, that's a fair point," I conceded. "I would agree that I really love your tits. Partly because I've never seen any real life ones before. But, as I just said, they are perfect. But I also think, especially when you smile, as you just did, you are really, really, pretty. Your skin is flawless, you've got fine delicate features and a bone structure that any woman would die for."

To this day, I've got no idea where this eloquence came from. Possibly the comfort I felt with Sally? I'd certainly never paid any woman compliments like that before. I'd have been too embarrassed, plus fearful of rebuttal or disdain. But with Sally I felt able to express my feelings. And confident they would be well received. In that regard, I was right!

In a display of emotion and physicality I was not expecting (but was hugely welcome) she flung herself at me and held me very very tightly.

"Oh Jack," she almost sobbed, "that is so sweet. As I just said, no-one has ever said anything as remotely as nice as that to me."

This embrace was taking place with me stark naked, Sally topless and my erection pressed, almost painfully, between us.

As realisation of this hit, both of us coloured up with embarrassment. But, tellingly, neither of us made any effort to pull apart. Though, sadly, at that stage, neither of us made a move to move things up a level either. Much as we probably both wanted to. But I did have enough confidence to make another suggestion.

"Anyway," I countered, still holding Sally close, "your original comment is not fair. You've seen my cock. But I haven't seen the rest of you. I think you should strip fully today whilst you watch me wanking." I smirked.

"Ok," she answered, after a brief pause and with a nervous croak in her voice. "I think that seems reasonable. If I'm going to see you in all your glory then you should see me. Would you like that?"

"Oh my God yes," I assured her, letting go of her and lying back on the bed so I could watch her disrobe.

"Actually, before I start," Sally disclosed, "let me be honest with you. I was being coy, if not childish, when I said I feel "funny". I can see your arousal," she laughed, looking at my twitching dick, "but that's what I feel too. I'm turned on by what we are doing."

The eloquence of a few moments ago had deserted me. Not trusting myself to speak, but hugely excited by this disclosure, I just nodded, but with a huge grin on my face.

Watching intently I saw Sally, just feet away from me, shrug off her school trousers, followed, after a slight pause, by her knickers. This wasn't a provocative striptease. But that vision remains indelibly printed on my mind. The first ever completely nude woman that I saw.

And what a woman. I'd admired her body in a swimming costume at a gala. I'd felt it over her clothes over the last few weeks. And, as of yesterday, I'd seen her tits. But now I could admire her, in all her splendour.

I said above that I thought her tits were prefect. But actually, all of her was perfect. She had toned, muscular legs, a flat stomach, with the hint of a 6 pack. And, as she turned round to drop her clothes in the corner, a tight, symmetrical, bum. For the last several weeks I'd been groping her bum. But I could see now that it looked as good as it felt.

"Oh my God Sally," I managed to croak. "You look absolutely sensational. I can't believe how good a figure you have."

"Thank you," she answered quietly, "you're in pretty good shape yourself too."

Bolstered by this compliment, my cock twitched and, laying back on the bed, I very gently started stroking it. Sally took up position opposite me, at the foot of bed. In a display of confidence herself, she sat upright, but with her legs apart. So I had a decent view of her pussy.

This pussy, unsurprisingly given her generally hirsute nature, was very hairy. But so, at that time, were almost all of those women that I'd seen in the porn mags that I'd got my hands on.

My eyes never left her. But I was torn between focusing on her tits or her pussy. But also looking up at, what I was increasingly realising, was her extremely pretty face. Though her delicate features were now contorted in rapt concentration herself.

"I really like watching you wanking," Sally informed me. "Seeing how turned on you are makes me turned on to. I loved it when you spurted everywhere yesterday. And I'm really looking forward to seeing you shoot again."

"Oh shit," I gasped, "hearing you say that is likely to make that happen sooner, not later. But I'll try to hang on. I don't want to come just yet."

So, without shifting my gaze from Sally I tried to think of calculus and algebra to distract me, grimacing in concentration. But Sally, with a mischievous smile, was teasing me, albeit verbally, not physically.

"Oh my God Jack, those balls look fit to burst. And the head of your cock is purple and bulging. I reckon you're going to go off like a rocket."

I'd stopped my wanking to a snail's pace, fearful of exploding too soon. So turned on was I that I knew the slightest touch could see me orgasm. But, taking a deep breath and contracting my pelvic muscles I was able to delay it, at least momentarily. And I was able to continue wanking, albeit quite gingerly.

"Tell me how it feels," Sally directed.

"It feel absolutely wonderful," I croaked. "I've always enjoyed the pleasure I can give myself. But to do it in front of you, whilst feasting, visually, on your magnificent body is making me more excited than I've ever been (clearly my sexual eloquence had returned). But I can feel my orgasm building already, my balls are fit to burst."

"Come on then Jack, give in to it again," she encouraged, "let me see that spunk fly like it did yesterday."

That encouragement was all it took for me to do exactly that.

"Oooh, ooohhhh, OoooHHHHHHHHHHH..." I shuddered and gasped as a torrent of spunk spewed from my pulsing cock. The first shot, this time, going even further than yesterday and almost reaching my throat.

"Oh my goodness," Sally shrieked, that seemed like an even bigger load than yesterday. And it flew even further."

"I think it was," I agreed, with a sigh, "I didn't think I would be more excited than I was when I first saw your tits. But to see your pussy and to hear your urging me on - as well as verbalising my own arousal to you - really got me worked up."

Looking up I could see, even with my inexperience, that Sally seemed flushed and excited herself. Her large nipples were erect, her chest was heaving and she seemed more than a little flustered.

"I'm clearly not an expert in these matters," I joked, "but it looks like I'm not the only one who is worked up?" Amazing myself at how comfortable I felt in discussing our arousal so openly like this.

"Guilty as charged," Sally agreed with a blush. "I told you a little earlier how much this was turning me on. And watching you orgasm like that, especially knowing that I've been a part of your excitement, is a huge thrill."

Once again, surprising myself with how forward I was being, I made a suggestion.

"Why don't you do something about that?" I proposed. "You've seen me play with myself. I'd love to watch you do the same... But only if you're OK with that," I concluded a little lamely, finally losing my nerve and not wanting to appear too emphatic.

Fortunately, despite my lack of conviction, Sally was clearly turned on enough to agree to my suggestion. Though not without a degree of reticence.

"Oh God Jack, I'd love that, on two grounds. Firstly, I really am worked up. In fact, I'm desperate for relief myself. And secondly, I think it would be a huge turn on for you to watch me, as I've watched you. But all of that said, I'm really shy. I'm not sure if I'll be able to relax enough to get off."

"Look," I suggested, "why don't you just start off by gently playing with yourself. And see how you feel after a few minutes?"

Then, in another display of my new found comfort and confidence I looked her in the eye and made a follow-up proposal. "Though, of course, I'm happy to help if you'd like."

"Mmm, I'm sure you would," Sally chuckled, "but I think I probably will be fine on my own. But maybe in the future..." she suggested, with a glint in her eye, causing my cock to twitch back into life at the idea.

Still at the foot of my bed, Sally laid on her back, facing me, as I remained in position propped up against the back wall, just feet away from her pussy. Despite the foliage that Sally had around her pussy I could see a degree of moisture. In fact, as she spread her legs provocatively, it was more than a degree. She appeared to be soaking wet!

Confirmation of this was given as following my suggestion she began, very tentatively, to play with herself. I could see immediately and even with my inexperience, that she was extremely well lubricated. In fact, I couldn't just see it, I could almost hear it!

I realised I had no clear idea how women masturbated. And in later years I discovered that, unlike men, there are more variations to this particular theme.

Sally's technique was to initially play with her pussy lips with one hand, whilst inserting a single digit into her pussy.

"Oh shit yes," she gasped, as she inserted that digit, with her eyes hooded, but still never leaving my gaze.

Despite having come just 10 minutes earlier this masturbatory vision, directly in front of me, had my cock at full mast once more. I was gently rubbing it. But didn't say anything for fear of breaking the spell and causing Sally to stop. I probably needn't have worried.

"Jesus Jack, this is so horny to masturbate in front of you," Sally whispered. "Especially as I can see it's turned you again. Keep wanking yourself," she directed. "And come nearer, I want you to experience it really close up."

So, I shuffled down the bed and lay next to Sally, on my side, with my dick almost touching her hip. If I'd had the confidence I could have reached out and fondled Sally (and much later she confessed that's what she'd been hoping I would have done). A large part of me was aching to do just that: feel those wonderful breasts; suckle on a stubby, prominent, nipple; or establish how wet and velvety her aroused pussy felt. But I was much too diffident to push my luck any further than I already had. So I contented myself with watching Sally as I, for the second time that afternoon, started to bring myself closer to orgasm.

As she upped her pace, I did exactly the same. But our eyes were always focused entirely on the other. Or, to be accurate, on each others body's, not faces. I was transfixed at the scene in front of me, which was not something, just a few weeks ago, I'd ever have envisioned seeing.

Sally continued to finger her pussy, quite gently, but was now frigging her clit more rapidly. Her breathing was coming in short gasps and, painfully inexperienced as I was, I could sense from knowledge of my own arousal, that her own orgasm may be approaching.

Moments later that sense was confirmed. Grasping a full breast, Sally's fingering of her clit became even more insistent and her climax hit.

"Nnngh, nnngh, ,nggghh, YESSSSSSSSSSS..." she cried, throwing her head back and shaking with the power of it.

The sight (and sound) of which triggered my own orgasm, which, to my mortal embarrassment, I fired over Sally's lower abdomen!

"Oh my God Sally, I'm so, so, sorry, I didn't mean to do that," I spluttered, in profuse apology. "That's inexcusable, let me get a tissue."

"Wow," she squealed, but in something much more closely resembling pleasure than revulsion.

"Don't worry," she laughed, easing my embarrassment somewhat, "that's fine. I just had no idea it would be almost hot like that. Actually both in temperature and emotionally," she giggled. "Or that there would still be that much second time around." She then shocked me further by playing tentatively with it as it pooled near her navel.

"I really am sorry," I proffered once more. "It's just that it was so horny. I couldn't contain myself. I'm so glad you let me watch you." I enthused.

"Are you kidding," she responded. "that was such a rush to have you watching me. It made my orgasm bigger than ever. And I really don't mind that you showered me in your spunk," she grinned again. "It was really sexy in fact."

Rousing ourselves we started to clean up and get dressed, much less sheepish and embarrassed than we'd been the previous evening. As Sally was about to leave my room she looked back with a questioning glance.

"Can we do this again? Quite soon?" she asked hesitantly.

"God yes, of course." I agreed immediately. Then, playing back to Sally a question that she'd previously asked me, "how often do you masturbate?"

"Similar to you" she smiled, shyly, "I do it pretty much every day. I get a bit cranky if I don't," she disclosed. "I hope that doesn't make me sound like a sex fiend?"

"Wow," I laughed, "I don't think it makes you any more of a sex fiend than I am. Though I'm not sure I was expecting that reply. I was pretty sure girls did it. And I guessed you'd be no different. But, I'm not really sure why, I just didn't think it would be with the same frequency as us guys. So would it make sense that we should try and do this every day?" I queried.

"I think that's an excellent idea," Sally agreed, with a shy smile.

So, for the next few days, whenever we could find an opportunity, we followed a similar pattern. Masturbating together as we admired each others bodies. With Sally increasingly keen for me to spunk over her. Not that this drew any complaints from me.

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