An Old Memory

Posted by: Age: 75 Posted on: 1 comments
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I am 75 years old and just found out about this site. I guess I am writing because even old women have memories. My event happened in 1946, when I was 15. I was pretty endowed and considered to be quite a looker at that time. It was after WWII, and my brother, who was 17, was in the Navy and had come home for 10 days liberty. He was handsome in his uniform and I adored him.

One morning, I was on my way downstairs and passed his room. His door was open and I glanced in. He was lying on his back under the covers. He called, 'Hey, sis!' I stopped and waited to hear why he had called me. He lifted the covers back exposing his hard penis which he was slowly stroking. 'I hate to waste a perfectly good hard on, how about getting in bed with me? It will be O.K., I've got a rubber.'

Seeing his hard penis, which he must have been working on for a while because I could see the little drops of moisture sitting on its head, my first reaction was fright. It was wrong for him to ask me such a thing and I immediately told him 'NO', but not too loudly so no one downstairs could hear us. 'O.K. sis, but you don't know what you're passing up. You sure you don't want to feel this?' He thrust his hips up and stuck his penis out a long way.

For just an instant I was fascinated by it. I felt my heart skip a beat and I drew in a quick breath. Then the feeling of fright hit me again, though not as hard. 'No thanks,' I said less emphatically and left the room.

The scene kept repeating in my mind. I kept seeing that hard shaft with the beads of moisture thrust high into the air above the bed and hearing the question over and over again, 'You sure you don't want to feel this?' My fright began to be replaced by a new feeling, a feeling which grew between my 15 yo girl's legs. That night as I lay in my bed reliving the scene once more, my hand seemed to have a life of its own as it slipped inside my pyjama bottoms and found my 'feel good spot' and began to rub in circles. It wasn't long before my hips were bucking and I was drowned in a magnificent orgasm. It was the first of many I would have with the image my brother's strong, rigid penis with its drops of pre-cum, and the words echoing, 'You sure you don't want to feel this?'

If I had been a couple years older I might not have been so frightened. And, maybe if my brother hadn't had to return to his ship the next day, things might have been different. Even so, that scene would accompany me, as it has, the rest of my life.



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