Our Next Adventures Under The Covers

As a teen who had just experienced an orgasm and ejaculation, masturbation seemed to be my main hobby.  It's hard to remember now, but at that age everything made me hard. I would typically masturbate by grinding my erection against the mattress until I came.  Sometimes I'd hump my pillow, then have to quickly try and clean it.  My typical routine was two to four times a day.  I bought a Playboy for $4.00 from an older boy in Scouts. That provided hours of masturbatory glee.  I owe a certain Playmate a debt of gratitude.

But at the same time, I had become acutely aware of the female body.  I was simultaneously uncomfortable and aroused one morning when my mom was in the kitchen in her bathrobe and the top was gaping enough that I could see an entire boob and nipple as I stood to one side and she bent forward. The school librarian went to retrieve my student ID from under the counter one day and I found myself looking down straight down her blouse at a lacy bra and full tits.  But most of my attention was captured at home by my step-sister Sarah.  Having felt her boob and nipple, briefly explored between her legs, and exploded in my first orgasm with her only a few feet away, it was probably to be expected.

I'd catch glimpses of her small nipples straining against her t-shirt if she was braless in the morning. I caught myself looking at her butt in jeans.  I kept replaying my glimpse of her pussy, and the feeling of her boob, as I'd thrust and grind until I'd explode.

Which brings me to our next encounter.  It was a Saturday again.  Mom had gone shopping with Aunt Elle.  Dad was working on his old Corvair in the garage.  We were watching TV.  I was stretched out, lying on my right side, watching TV from under under my quilt.  Sarah was sitting up at the far end, down by my feet.  The couch was a L-shaped sectional, so her knees were raised over my legs, her feet sitting on couch on the other side of my ankles. She had a blanket over her waist and legs.

I don't know what made me do it. I naturally had developed another hardon, so I may not have been really thinking, but I slowly moved one foot backwards until my heel was up against where her left butt cheek met the couch seat cushion.  I moved it back and forth a tiny bit.  No reaction.  She didn't say anything, but she didn't pull away. I moved it more, feeling her butt through the quilt with the soft part of my heel.  Still no reaction. That went on for awhile.

Emboldened, I slowly pulled my leg up toward me a bit.  Then I eased my heel back slowly until it contacted a soft area. I could feel her upper thigh through the blanket on the sole of my foot.  I felt myself grow even harder as I realized my heel must be squarely against her pussy.  She still didn't react, and kept looking straight ahead. I slowly began to press my heel against her, rotating it.  I was rubbing Sarah's pussy and she wasn't stopping me!

This went on for a few minutes. For some reason I decided I should grind it harder.  As I started to press more intensely, she grabbed my leg and foot in her hands and stopped me.  Uh-oh I thought. She's mad.  But that wasn't it.  She scooched back a tiny bit, and I realized she was still keeping her pussy in contact with my heel-just with less pressure. But when Sarah let go of my legs, I felt her pull my quilt out from between us and up over herself (although under her blanket), so there was nothing between my heel and her crotch.  Anyone in the room couldn't see a thing. She didn't say a word.  She just kept looking at the TV.

So I moved my heel back in position and could feel only the thin fabric of her panties between my heel and her pussy. I slowly started rubbing again, trying not to press too hard. I could feel her gradually changing the position of her lower body, first one way, then the other.  I heard her breathing change as I continued to rub.

Almost without warning, we heard the door from the garage open down the hallway.  I whipped my foot away and we both froze as our dad walked in.  It turned out he was coming to tell us he was going to play golf.  He went into my parents' bedroom, changed into golf clothes, and left. 

A little time passed as we both were silent on the couch.  My erection was gone. Then I felt Sarah's hands on my ankle, and she pulled my foot back into her crotch.  I began rubbing again as my dick quickly stiffened. I turned slightly and looked at Sarah.  Her eyes were closed, and she had a look of concentration on her reddened face.  I felt her hand under my quilt, reaching up my thigh, and eventually resting on my hard-on through my basketball shorts.  She softly squeezed the shaft through the material, then moved her hand up around the head, slowly squeezing and releasing it through the soft cloth.  It felt amazing. 

After a few minutes I took another gamble.  I reached down and untied the drawstring. Almost immediately Sarah's hand had pulled the waistband out enough to get her hand in, and she was continuing to caress and squeeze my erection, this time her warm hand clamped around the head.  After a bit of that, I realized I'd forgotten to keep moving my foot.

I couldn't stand it.  I sat up abruptly and twisted toward Sarah, grabbing her around the waist and back in a hug, and turned back so I was in a seated position with her facing me.  She was now straddling my right thigh, leaning up against me, her right hand still holding my erection trapped between us, while I tried to grind up against her.  

I realized at that point that she had been wearing a long t-shirt. Looking down, it was bunched around her hips, so I could see a bit of her panties, but mostly her long legs. While I was pressing against her, Sarah began to slowly rock on my thigh, pressing her pelvis down, and rocking back, down and back. She didn't let go of my hardon, and kept her face buried into the side of my neck as she continued to rock on my thigh.

I slid both hands down to her hips, then under the t-shirt.  I slid my hands up her ribs, approaching her boobs.  I wondered if she would stop me. She didn't. I felt the soft swell of her boobs-no bra-then cradled them.  She let out a soft gasp as I squeezed each nipple. "Gentle," she said. So I softly and gently squeezed them.  Her boobs felt amazing.

My erection almost hurt by that point.  I could feel Sarah's hand gently twisting on the head of my penis.  It was all slick and slippery. I knew I hadn't cum, but realized I was leaking everywhere as she kept rocking and sliding on my thigh.  After a few more moments, her rocking became more urgent.  I felt like I was going to cum. But then she abruptly stopped, and let go of my erection..

Sarah never moved her head from being buried in my neck.  Instead, she stood up slightly, slid her panties down, eventually getting one leg disentangled, and let them drop to the floor around one ankle. Then she returned to straddling my thigh.  I could feel her pubic hair as she rocked forward.  She also began to do a sliding motion, and I could feel increasing wetness on my thigh as she slid and rocked in the same place.  For the first time, I noticed a musky smell in the air, as she rocked and pressed.

I reached for her boobs again and she grasped onto my erection.  She now had begun a twisting, slightly up-and-down on it, almost in time with her sliding.  At the same time, I was thrusting toward her, feeling the pressure of her body as I ground against her belly and hand, the sensations driving me while.

Abruptly, she slid forward and pressed her pussy against my thigh.  She simultaneously let out a loud gasp, and I could feel her entire body jerking every few seconds.  Otherwise, she was motionless. After a few seconds, she squeezed and slid her hand up on the slick head of my erection. I exploded, unloading my cum into her hand and into my boxers and shorts. As the pulsing subsided, Sarah withdrew her hand, wiping it on my lower stomach.

"Ewwww," she said, grimacing. "My hand is gross!"  I didn't say anything.  I just sat there dazed as she almost ran out of the room.