0 comments/ 72418 views/ 10 favorites Sneak Peeks By: Cal Y. Pygia I wanted my brother to cum on my tits. Was that too much to ask? I mean, hey, I'm a hot chick. All the guys tell me so--usually just before or after they've fucked me. Tommy--my brother--thinks I'm hot, too. He's never said as much, but I've seen him check me out enough times, a gawk here, a stare there. I have enough sense to know he's not reading the "Watch This Space" message on my tee-shirt or trying to read the label on my jeans. He may be my brother, but he's still a man, and he's not dead, so it doesn't take a genius to figure out that he's checking out my tits and ass. When I was younger, his surreptitious gazes used to bother me. I mean, I thought, I'm his sister, and he's checking me out the way other guys check out the chicks they want to hit on, as if I were just a piece of meat. Then, as I got older, I wised up, and I thought, hell, Tommy may be my brother, but he's hotter than most of the guys on the planet. I started to enjoy the sneak peeks he gave me, and, more than that, I stopped wearing a bra, wore thong panties when I bothered with them at all, and wore clothing that was both skimpier and tighter than anything I'd worn before. The sneak peeks became more frequent. My goal had been too easy, I thought. My brother's voyeurism had been unsettling at first, then welcome, and, finally, sexy. Lately, though, it had become no big deal. I wanted to put the excitement back into my brother's gazes. The way to do so, I decided, was to set a new goal for myself, and I had: I wanted my brother to cum on my tits. The fact that we share a condo made my plan easier to put into practice. I started slowly, figuring a good way to orient Tommy along the lines I wanted him to go was to offer my brother a glimpse not merely of the outlines of my breasts or pokey nipples, but of the whole enchilada as well. I'd show him my boobs, both of them, bare. Better yet, I'd manage to spill milk on them, hoping he'd connect the milk with semen. Chicks probably wouldn't, but a guy--even one's brother--might. It was worth a try. On Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, Tommy gets up at eight o'clock to grab a bite--usually, toast or cold cereal--before jogging to his morning class at the local community college. Tuesdays, he leaves home at six a. m. for his part-time job. I work days, but I decided to call in sick (I hope the boss isn't reading this!) on Monday, and, there I was, naked, at the kitchen table, a glass of milk at my lips, waiting for Tommy. When he came through the doorway, dressed in only his white cotton briefs and a pair of slippers, I made my eyes go wide, opened my mouth, and spluttered. The milk I'd had to my lips spilled, and I leaned back, making sure the "semen" splattered down my bare breasts. Tommy's eyes snapped wide, and his mouth gaped. "My God, sis!" I thought the poor bastard was going to have a heart attack. Suppressing a grin--his shocked expression was hilarious, I thought--I looked surprised to see him. "Tommy! I thought you were at work!" I made no effort to cover my breasts. My nipples were rock hard, probably because of the air conditioning. The milk, too, was cold, of course. "It's Monday, not Tuesday," Tommy said, still staring at my boobs. I feigned confusion. "Oh, my God! I thought it was Tuesday. I thought you were at work." The milk coursed down my breasts. I watched Tommy watching the tiny white streams meandering down my tits. Silently, I willed him, Think semen, think semen, think semen! "Why don't you join me?" I invited him. "Weren't you going to have breakfast?" Tommy looked away from me, but only for a moment. "Aren't you going to put something on?" His gaze went from my face back to my tits. "Do you want me to?" He didn't answer. Instead, while he made a show of opening the refrigerator, removing the milk carton, and pouring himself a glass of milk, he considered my question. He wasn't sure what to say, I thought. I mean, I was a naked woman, sure, but I was also his sister. Finding his predicament amusing, I again repressed a smile. He shrugged. "It's up to you." I wanted to toy with him a little, but not so much that I made him uncomfortable enough to leave or to ask me to don some clothes. "I like being naked," I said. He took a sip of his milk. "So I see." "What about you, Tommy? Do you like to be naked?" If he'd been drinking from his glass of milk at this moment, he'd have spewed it all over himself, as I had done, when I'd pretended to be surprised at his being home. Instead, he shrugged again. "Sometimes," he admitted. "When?" I pressed. He'd taken his eyes off my breasts when I'd asked him whether he liked to be naked, but now he was eyeing them again, not openly, but surreptitiously, darting quick glances at them, between sips of milk, instead of ogling them, as he'd done when he'd first entered the kitchen. "When I'm home alone," he said. I looked down at my tits. "This milk," I said, "reminds me of sperm." Tommy had just taken another sip of milk when I said this, and it spewed out of his mouth, onto my breasts. "Oh, God! I'm sorry, sis!" I laughed. "Relax. It's only milk, Tommy," I told him, "not sperm." He set the glass of milk he was drinking on the table, his hand shaking. I noticed a definite bulge in the crotch of his briefs. My brother's cock was hard as a rock. "From the looks of you, though," I quipped, giggling as I nodded toward his crotch, "it sure could have been semen." "Sis!" I laughed. "Admit it, Tommy, seeing me like this--" I raised my hands, palms up to the level of my breasts and swept them downward, to indicate my nudity--"is what made you like that," nodding, again, at the bulge in his crotch. He blushed more deeply. "You have the advantage on me, though, brother. You've seen all of me naked, but I've seen only most of you naked." "Sharon, I don't think we'd--" "There's nothing wrong with nudity, Tommy," I interrupted him. I looked at crotch. "Is there?" He gulped. "Well, no, but--" "I've shown you mine," I told him. "Now, I want to see yours." "You're my sister, Sharon." I laughed. "Don't you think I know that?" "I'm your brother." "Duh!" "It's wrong." "No, it's only fair. What's good for the gander's good for the goose, and, believe me, I've seen you take many a gander at me before now." "I never--" "Yes, you have, plenty of times." "Not while you're naked!" "You've seen me in a tight halter top, without a bra, with my nipples poking almost through the fabric; you've seen me in a thong bikini; you've seen me wear shorts so short that they exposed half my backside. You never complained before." "But you're naked now, sis." "I want to see your cock, Tommy," I told him, flat out. "I want to see your balls." "Sharon, it's wrong. Can't you see that?" "I want to see your cock. I want to see your balls." "We're siblings, Sharon!" "I want to see your cock. I want to see your balls." "A brother and a sister aren't supposed to see each other naked." "I want to see your cock. I want to see your balls." He sighed, affecting exasperation. "You're not going to quit, are you?" "I want to see your cock. I want to see your balls." "All right!" He jammed his thumbs into either side of the elastic waistband, tugging his briefs down around his thighs. His erect cock sprang free, his balls high inside the tightly drawn purse of his scrotum. I smiled, thinking, My brother is fucking gorgeous down there, as he is everywhere else. "There! Satisfied?" He started to pull up his underpants. "No," I said, "I'm not satisfied." "Too bad," he said, pulling the briefs back up his thighs. I reached out, made contact with the smooth, taut flesh covering his stiff-standing cock, and wrapped it in my fist, "Sharon!" he gasped, stepping back. I leaned forward, my tits spilling beneath me, maintaining contact. He tried to retreat, and I crushed his manhood in my first. Tommy grimaced. "For God's sake, sis! That hurts!" "Stand still, then." "What the hell are you doing?" I pumped my hand up and down, back and forth, on my brother's thick, hard cock, working his testicles with the fingers of my other hand. "Jesus, Sharon! Quit!" "I will," I said, smiling up at him, "when I've milked your balls." I shared the goal I'd set for myself with him: "I want you to cum on my tits." "No way!" My playful fingers tightened on his balls, squashing them hard in my fist. He screamed, nearly sinking to his knees. I released the pressure on his balls, but maintained my grip on them--and his swollen cock. "Way," I assured him. My hand pumped his dick faster and faster, with greater and greater fury, and, finally, Tommy gave in, losing his inhibitions, as orgasmic pleasure claimed him, his body untroubled by both sibling nudity and incestuous masturbation. Looking into my eyes, he moaned. Gasping, he looked suddenly just gone, vacant, missing in action, his eyes glazing, and, trembling and moaning, his thighs quivering, he ejaculated, great gobs of his thick, warm, white semen jetting from his convulsing cock. The profuse sprays of his fecundating fluid splattered against my chest, geysers of my brother's viscid seed spattering and splashing my boobs. He moaned again, more deeply, and another volley of his semen launched itself from the depths of his balls, spurting forth like molten lava from an erupting volcano. The gobs of semen seemed to hang upon the sleek slopes of my breasts for an eternity before they finally succumbed to gravity's relentless effects, very slowly trickling down, in meandering lines, the rounded mounds of my tits. Tommy's cock was streaked with the remnants of his seed, and I rubbed its purple, cum-coated glans over my nipples and areolas, letting the slick, slippery tip of his glorious, still rock-solid cock glide and slide back and forth across my bosom and up and down within the deep valley between my semen-smeared breasts. "Now, Tommy," I said, my voice a hoarse whisper, "that wasn't so bad, was it?" He bowed low, kissing my lips. "No," he admitted. "It wasn't bad at all." "We're both home on the weekends," I reminded him. "That's true," he said. I smiled at him. "We'll have lots and lots of time to share 'breakfast' together." He grinned. "And lunch and dinner." "And let's not forget brunch." "Or dessert." Tommy kissed me again, this time deeper and longer. I didn't tell him that I'd set a new goal for us to attain. I want my brother to cum in my ass.