My Sister's Purple Dildo

Posted by: Author: Age: 27 now Posted on: 0 comments
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When I was growing up, my bedroom shared a wall with my big sister's. Her door was set back and it faced mine across the narrow hall at the top of the stairs. Our rooms weren't big and, the way they were set up, if the doors were open we could see each others heads on our pillows. Sometimes we'd fight for weeks or months and we'd avoid each other entirely, my door always firmly closed, but often we were good friends and we would talk until she told me she had to get some sleep.



I had started masturbating at a young age, first just pressing the head of my cock against my thigh with my fingertips, not letting it get hard, just chubby, and I don't think I ever came like that. It was a few years before I figured out the regular way of wrapping your hand around your hard dick and stroking up and down. By then, like most boys, I was very horny a good deal of the time and had very little outlet for it. There was no internet then, at least in our house, and I was too young to buy porn magazines. The lingerie sections in my mum's catalogues were exciting at first but soon grew boring. You can probably already guess where my young mind took me.



I wasn't often left alone in the house, but on the rare occasions I was I would sneak into my sister's room. As an adult looking back I can see it was a huge invasion of privacy and feel pretty bad about it, but at the time it was just very exciting. I'd open her underwear drawer and dig out the prettiest lacy panties I could find. I'd hold them to my face and feel the delicate material against my cheeks. Sometimes I'd press my lips against the inside of the crotch. Just the knowledge that my sister's pussy (pussies still being somewhat of a mystery back then) had touched the very material I was kissing was what did it for me. Sometimes I'd wrap the panties around my dick and jerk off for a while, although I wouldn't cum, because I was worried she'd be able to tell. Sometimes I'd lay her panties and bra on the bed and hump the imaginary girl lying in them. All fairly innocent stuff, I think you'd agree. Once or twice I'd be so horny that I'd take off my clothes, get into her bed, and masturbate to orgasm. Then I'd guiltily rearrange the covers as they'd been and slink down to the bathroom to wash up.



The breakthrough came weeks later when I decided to explore her room beyond the underwear drawer. She had one of those giant drawers on rollers that slid out from under her bed, and it was mostly filled with old magazines and diaries and make-up. Girl stuff, and pretty boring. But there was also a rolled up t-shirt, stuffed in the corner under some magazines. I can distinctly remember picking it up and feeling something rigid inside. I'm not sure how I knew what a dildo was, but I definitely did, because the realization of what I'd found washed over me and sent my nerves racing before I'd even unwrapped it. It had never once occurred to me that my sister would masturbate, or have any sexual urges whatsoever. I can still remember every detail of my discovery. I know the t-shirt was dark, because I can clearly recall the little crusty translucent smudges that marked wherever it had come into contact with the dildo. The thing itself was big, probably about six inches, and thick, way bigger than my cock was at the time. It was purple and see-through, and realistically shaped with wavy vein-like ridges up and down it. It was originally a vibrator, you could see the mechanism inside it, but it wouldn't turn on even when I tried replacing the battery. It trembled though, as I held it, because my hands were trembling. I instantly became paranoid and raced to my bedroom window to peer down at the road and driveway below and make sure no one had come home without me noticing. Then I went back and laid on the floor next to this thing, this artifact of sexual activity. I touched it and felt the very slightly sticky, rubbery surface. I held it to my nose and sniffed it, my cock straining against the floor as the blood rushed to it at my first encounter with the scent of girlcum. I cautiously licked it, and licked the crusty smudges on the t-shirt. It didn't really taste of anything, but I enjoyed it all the same. Like the panties before, it was the knowledge of where this thing had been that did it for me. It had not only touched my sister's pussy, it had been inside of it. Inside of her. Deep inside of her, judging by the residue on the base of the thing. Before long I was jerking off while I sniffed and licked the dildo, and as I came I sucked on the end of it, squeezing my eyes shut and focusing on the thought of where it had been. I'm pretty sure it was the best orgasm of my life up to that point.



That night I listened out and shut off my TV as soon as I heard my sister coming up the stairs. I laid in the darkness, listening intently, forming images in my mind. It may have been my over-active, over-excited imagination but, a few minutes after the familiar sound of her bedsprings creaking as she got into bed, I heard her breathing heavily, I heard her bedsprings moving in quick little jerks, and every once in a while, a little gasp or stifled moan. I imagined her dildo, her purple dildo with the wavy veins, the very thing I had held in my mouth earlier that day, buried between her legs. I imagined her pleasure, the unimaginable ache of a girl fucking herself. I wished so much I could crawl under her covers and really see what she was doing, dimly, in the dark and warmth under her sheets, the smell of her girlcum overwhelming me, making me drunk, feeling the mattress shudder beneath me, moving me closer, reaching out a little hand and feeling wetness. I came as I laid in my bed, listening to her through the wall.



For a while it became a preoccupation, trying to predict when she would masturbate and make sure I was there to listen and enjoy. I noticed she would mainly do it after going to bed, and during the day before she showered. I would save up my orgasms and only jerk off while I was listening to her. I would spend all day looking forward to it. One day, on a weekend I think, when we were alone in the house, I suddenly realized that I would get the opportunity to do something I had been desperate to do for weeks. I waited in my room, playing a video game, hoping against hope that she would go into her room and shut the door. She did, and soon after came the now familiar and obsessed-over sounds of her masturbating, and minutes later her door opened and she went downstairs. I waited a few moments and then followed her down, and sure enough, the bathroom door was closed and the shower was running. I raced back upstairs and into her room, dug the rolled-up t-shirt out from under her bed and took it into my room. I knew I had to be quick, and my blood was racing so much that I was getting dizzy, but I closed my door and unwrapped my prize. Oh God, it was still warm. And damp. And the girlcum on the t-shirt wasn't crusty, but creamy, and it made tiny little momentary strings between the t-shirt and the dildo as I lifted it up. And it didn't taste of nothing anymore. It tasted incredible. Awakening something deep in my genetic code as a human male. I licked the dildo frantically from base to tip, around and around, starved for this taste I had never experienced before, needing it, needing more, insatiable for it. I sucked the girlcum from the fabric of the t-shirt, getting all of it I could. I held the dildo in my hands and my mouth, savouring the warmth, the body heat, the delicious heat of my sister's cunt. I was losing my sense of time. How long had it been since my sister had started her shower? I listened out and couldn't tell if the shower was still running, but it didn't matter, not really, because I needed to cum. I was close. I could feel that stirring, that tickle in my balls that tells me it's gonna happen. I took the dildo and held it beneath my cock. I don't even know where the idea came from. I don't even remember having the idea. It just happened. I held the dildo and aimed the tip of my cock at it and before I knew it I was pumping out the biggest load of my life up to that point along the top of it. Two spurts. Like mustard on a hot dog. Three spurts. Four. I was coating the thing. Glazing it in boycum. The stickiness of my sister's juice in my mouth, on my lips, filling my senses. It was an incredible orgasm. And it was instantly followed by incredible panic. I lifted the dildo by the base and shook it off onto a pair of socks on my floor, globs of cum flying off it, the rest slowly sliding down and dribbling off. I was sure the house seemed too quiet for the shower to be running now. There was nothing else I could do. I carefully put the dildo, sticky with boycum, onto the t-shirt, folding it back up the way it had been. I opened my bedroom door, terrified of seeing my sister, confused and angry, staring at me, but all was quiet, her door was still open, her room empty. I stepped into her room and carefully, quietly, put the rolled-up t-shirt back where it had been, tiptoed back into my room and shut the door. I mopped up the stray splashes of cum as best as I could with the pair of socks I'd deposited most of it on, and tossed them under my bed, then, as casually as possible, headed downstairs. The shower wasn't running, but the bathroom door was still closed, and I breathed a sigh of relief. But then the dread came. I was young, but still aware that my cum looked and smelled nothing like my sister's. I was the only male in the house. If she realized her dildo was coated in a thin layer of semen, there was no one else to suspect.



That night I laid in bed, my usual excited anticipation of my sister using her dildo was gone, or at least muddied by fear. But she went to bed like normal, and after a few minutes, the usual sounds of masturbation began. And like I've said before, it's simple undeniable truths that do it for me. The truth that the panties I had kissed had touched my sister's pussy, that the dildo I had sucked on had been inside my sister's pussy, and now this new truth. The truth that the dildo coated in my semen, the spunk I had watched shoot out of dick and land in globs, was now buried six inches deep in my sister. My spunk was in my sister's pussy. And that truth added an extra layer of awesome to each little creak of her bedsprings, each gasp, each stifled moan, and most of all, to when those things suddenly stopped, and in my mind's eye I knew her girlcum, mixed with just a little of my boycum, was now coating that purple dildo. That truth kept me cumming for weeks and months on end. Until she went away to college, really.



Ever since then I've had a bit of a sexual fascination for my sister. A fantasy that comes to me every once in a while. It comes and goes. We've never talked about anything sexual, let alone done anything. But there have been a few little moments where I flirt with the thought of doing something. One time she dropped by unannounced and woke me up. I answered the door in a t-shirt and boxers and halfway through what she was saying she got a little flustered. It wasn't until she left that I noticed I had a giant case of morning wood and my boxers were sticking straight out in a tent. Last year I was at her apartment, I think I was dropping something off, I was only there for a few minutes, and I was in her room as she typed on her laptop, and on the floor by her dresser was half a cucumber wrapped in cling film. While she was turned away I had a closer look and it was definitely wet. Really, what else would that be doing in her bedroom? Or anywhere for that matter? At one point she got up and out of the corner of my eye I saw her notice it and quickly kick it under her dresser. I didn't let on that I'd seen it, but I thought about it, and in the weeks after I kept having the urge to make a reference to it, or even buy her a dildo, giftwrap it with a big bow and make a joke of giving it to her. I was tempted but, due a combination of not being able to predict her reaction, and wanting to avoid embarrassing her, I never brought it up.



I'm obviously thinking about it now though, since I wrote this all out. Imagining masturbating together, little bro and big sister, loving and supportive and taboo. Of getting to taste that particular brand of girlcum again, more than a decade later. Getting to lay under her bedsheets, between her legs, seeing if I pictured what it looks like when she fucks herself right. Getting to put my boycum inside her again, the proper way this time. I doubt she'll ever read this, but if she does, well ...what do you say, Natalie? It could be fun.

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