****** Growing up as a Slut: 2 by Syndarella_snowhite ******
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Growing up as a Slut: 2


My name is Wendy. I like to think of myself as a reformed slut. I go online to
tell my story some times, to people who will listen. I figure it's therapy for
me, and if people get off by living vicariously through my experiences, well,
I'm glad to be of service.

I've discovered White Shadow's Nasty Stories, and have decided that this is a
good outlet for me, as no one interrupts me, and it seems to be a good method
of getting the feedback that I desire.

As I wrote about in my previous session, I started having sex with neighborhood
kids from the time I was 12 right up until high school. In that time, my
greatest love had been a 23-year-old guy that taught me how good sex could
feel, while making out in his car. A real thrill for a 13-year-old I might add.

In all that time, I never allowed my brother to have sex with me, thinking it
wrong, though he watched me have sex with his friends countless times. I think
it may have damaged his self-esteem. I felt sorry for him.

My hobby in my early years of high school was stealing other girls' boyfriends.
I enjoyed 'ruining' them. Most of the girls at my school were very 'proper' and
felt that sex was something magical and special and should be saved for
marriage or for that one true love...

I, on the other hand, knew that it was a fun pastime, and gave me a degree of
power over males, and wasn't afraid to use it. I was young but experienced, and
once I got a guy to fuck me, I knew he'd do an awful lot to get me to do it
again. Better yet, he'd come to resent his girlfriend for not putting out.

This vengeful side of me was very strong then, as my childhood reputation
followed me, and other girls were cruel to me. I know now that it was wrong to
want to get even with them for their snide remarks, but it didn't bother me
then. I came to wear the title 'slut' as a badge of pride as their beloved guys
fell for me one by one...

I therefore wasn't very helpful in getting my brother any dates. Its not like I
could try to set him up with any of my female friends... because I didn't have
any of those. Michael is a year younger than I am, and at 15 he was rather
gangly looking, with an unruly mass of brown hair, but he always had a very
pretty set of baby blue eyes.

I knew that a lot of girls could fall for them, if he could get over his own
feelings of inadequacy. As I mentioned, I felt partly responsible.

I remember the one night I came home from my job at the corner store to find
Mike all teary. I asked him what was wrong, and he told me that there was a
girl he really liked at school. Her name was Melissa. I knew her (and hated
her, but no more than most of the girls at school).

He was drinking a bottle of wine my mom had in the fridge. He was upset, and he
figured that getting drunk was the thing to do when you were upset, even though
he'd never really drank before. I knew we'd be in shit for opening it, but
since it was already done, and mom wouldn't find out till she got home from
night shift, I might as well indulge with him.

I asked him to tell me about the situation. I genuinely wanted to be shoulder
for him to cry on, though I must admit I was also selfishly curious for
anything I might be able to use against this girl in my own school power
struggles.

We went to lie on our mother's bed. It was a nice big water-bed, and was a warm
and comfortable. We'd often just lay back on it to share a daydream or to just
chat. The lights were off so we weren't distracted by anything. While laying in
the dark quiet, he told me how he was in the same class as this Melissa girl,
and how he'd made an effort to be her friend.

To hear him tell it, they were getting closer and closer to each other, and he
was really becoming infatuated. He figured he was gearing up to have his first
real girlfriend. That night he'd finally worked up the courage to call her at
home, and ask her to go out with him.

That's when she'd given him the, 'I like you, but just as a friend' speech. I
could hear the anguish and disappointment in his voice as he retold the story
to me. He was heartbroken, and while I thought of ways to console him he
blurted out that he'd probably be a virgin for ever. No one would want him.

I said, "So that's what this is about? Geez Mike, you have to realize that
you're a valuable person. You just have to be confident. That's what girls
like, a guy that knows what he's doing."

"But I don't know what I'm doing!" he retorted. "And at his rate I never will."

I lay there beside him, quietly considering. I nearly said it a few times, but
bit back the words before I could speak them. Maybe it was the effects of the
wine I had drunk, but I overcame my inhibitions, for right or wrong and blurted
what I was thinking:

"Mikey, If I thought it would help you, I'd do you. Just so you'd have the
experience."

I couldn't believe I'd said it, and I don't think he could either. It was quiet
for a while again, and I could tell his breath was irregular and shuddering. It
was sinking in.

"I think it would help Wend..." he offered weakly.

I knew then and there that I was going to have sex with my little brother. It
wasn't amorous or passionate, I was calculating now. What was I going to do? He
waited patiently, and in complete silence, probably fearing I was going to
change my mind.

"Okay," I said. "First of all, no one can ever know."

He made a nervous little laugh, and said he agreed.

"Second of all, it must never, ever happen again. Okay?"

I knew that this one was important, because I didn't want him to think I was
going to be his steady girlfriend. It was for his experience, and that was all.

He agreed immediately; almost too quickly. He didn't realize the power of it
yet; how once he'd had it, he'd want it more and more.

"Okay then. But we can't do it on Mom's bed. That just wouldn't be right," I
said.

I also didn't want mother to come home and detect the scent of sex in her
bedroom. As my father had left us a few years before, it would certainly be a
foreign odor there.

"We'll go to your room." I figured that'd be most comfortable for him. "You go
down and wait for me. I'll be there in a few minutes."

I wanted no suspicions raised.

We had to pass by the living room, where my youngest brother Clayton was still
up and watching TV. Born five years after Michael, he was only 10 at the time.
He'd only been a baby when I was doing all the neighborhood kids so my
reputation was unknown to him and I wanted to keep it that way.

I slipped silently past the living room and down the hall to Mike's room. I
entered and quietly closed the door behind me. He was tense with nervousness
and excitement. Scarcely daring to breathe. He watched me expectantly. I moved
past him to where his stereo was. I selected one of his CDs... the Natural Born
Killers soundtrack... which was my favorite at the time. I put it on and turned
it up fairly loud, as was normal for Mike's room. I then propped a chair up
against the doorknob.

I lifted my shirt up over my head, my dark blond hair falling down around my
bare shoulders as I tossed it aside. I smiled warmly at him.

"C'mere," I said softly, beckoning him. He was beside me in an instant. "Kiss
me," I directed.

I was only slightly taller than him. When my brother's lips touched mine he
gently opened them, and I realized he must have picked up kissing technique
from watching movies, as it was quite good for a beginner.

I darted my tongue into his, and lifted his hand up to cup by breast. He
squeezed it firmly, and then began to knead it under his palm. My breasts
aren't big, but they were still a little bit more than could easily fit into
his hand. I guided his other hand around behind me to where my bra clasp was.
He fumbled with it, trying to undo it one handed.

I smiled as I pulled away from his lips.

"Better use both hands," I suggested. "You're no expert yet."

He grinned with a nod, and eagerly wrapped his arms around me. Moments later,
my bra fell to the floor and my breasts were exposed for his view.

He'd seen me naked before, hell he'd seen me getting fucked often enough, but
the last time had been when I was 13, and now I was 16. Three years equals a
lot of development for a teenage girl.

Both of his hands now groped my chest, and I was delighted that I could be such
a wonderful toy for my brother. He stared at my breasts as he squeezed them and
played with my nipples.

I undid my belt while he was worshiping my chest, and then peeled off my jeans.
I took one of his hands and guided it down inside the front of my panties. He's
touched me down there when we were curious children, but now I was nearly a
woman, and had a well trimmed patch of dark blond hair. His fingertips explored
my pussy lips. I placed my hand over his, and with insistent pressure I
whispered for him to put his fingers inside me.

As we were still standing, he explored me under handed, inserting his index and
middle fingers up inside my body. I hunched my pelvis against his hand, driving
my clit against his palm. His fingers moved in a circular motion in my pussy as
I instinctively gyrated my hips against him.

I tossed my head back and gasped with the sensations he was awakening. He was
wide-eyed and fascinated at what he was doing to me. For him it was like magic.
By moving his fingers he was bringing his sister sexual excitement. He did have
the power. I continued to hump against his hand until my legs felt weak.

I sank down to my knees, and he allowed his fingers to slip out of me. He
brought them up to his face to first sniff, and then to take a lick. I'm not
sure how he liked it, but I mentioned that pussy was an acquired taste for
some. He assured me that he liked the taste of me. I busied myself with undoing
his pants, and then yanked them down.

I then pulled down his underwear, allowing his cock to bound free. My first
observation was that he was rather long, but unfortunately on the thin side. I
of course didn't mention this, as the goal was to build his self-esteem, not to
put doubts into his mind. I commented instead on how he had a wonderful cock. I
fibbed slightly, and told him it was my favorite kind of cock, long and curved.
He smiled; a hungry look of mounting anticipation.

His body shuddered as I slipped my mouth over the end of his rod. I massaged
the underside of his dick with my tongue, pushing my lips down its length. With
a gentle slurping, I pulled back to the tip, before sliding my mouth down the
length again. I bobbed on his cock a few more times rapidly, and then resumed
with long, slow sucks.

I alternated with fast and slow sucks, often tilting my head while his cock was
at the very back of my throat, as I sucked back again. I licked up and down his
shaft, playing my tongue along the head of his dick.

When I spared a look up at his face, I saw he was watching me with something
akin to shock. He could not believe what his sister was doing to him. I smiled
as best I could with his cock in my mouth as I sucked on his head, before
slipping his rod back down my throat.

He seemed afraid to make a sound, as if he might wake himself from this dream
if he did. As I increased my tempo however, he couldn't help but gasp. I
grabbed his ass as I bobbed in time with the music that was playing. I felt him
tense up, and he let out a grunt as hit sperm shot into my mouth with
considerable force.

I sucked it back hungrily, pulling every last drop from his cock, milking it
with my lips. With a few more licks along the outside of his dick, I stood up.

"Oh my God Wend... do... do you always swallow it?" he stammered.

"Only when I feel like it," I admitted. "You just tasted too sweet to waste," I
lied. Cum is also an acquired taste. I really don't like it myself, but I can
drink it anyway. Much the same when it comes to beer for me.

He sat on his bed, and I climbed astride him, sitting on his hips, with my legs
wrapped around his waist. I continued to kiss him, and he started to fondle my
breasts again. I nibbled my brother's ears and asked him if he still wanted to
fuck me.

He nodded vigorously.

"Good," I said, "because I dearly want to fuck you. Do you have condoms?" I
asked.

If he didn't then I did. Even though I was on birth control, and I was almost
positive I didn't have any STDs, I wanted him to wear one.

I didn't make all the guys I fucked wear one, and so maybe I was a bit of a
hypocrite, but it was my brother and I wanted him to be safe, and that meant
getting him used to wearing one. He said he had a few that he'd been keeping
just in case. I asked him how old they were, warning him that they sometimes
went bad after too long. He said that dad had given them to him on his last
visit a few months ago. I told him they would be all right then

I wiggled on top of him, and we fondled each other, until I felt him getting
hard again, his cock poking up in between our bodies. It hadn't been a long
wait as the thought of finally getting to slip his cock into me must have been
driving him nuts.

When I figured he was rigid enough, I went to his drawer to retrieve one of his
condoms. I tore open the wrapper and efficiently rolled it down his shaft as he
laid on his back watching.

I smiled at him as I straddled his knees, and then worked my naked body up his
legs. Grasping his cock in my hands, I kept my eyes on his. I raised myself up
and positioned it at the opening of my pussy. I bit my lower lip in my best
imitation of shyness, before slowly easing myself down onto his long, slender
latex-coated member.

He closed his eyes and lifted his chin up as I came to rest on his hips.

"In sex," I said, "angle is everything."

I demonstrated by shifting my position, thrusting my hips forward and then
backward as I moved slowly up and down on his cock.

He nodded as he closed his eyes. I bounced up and down on him slowly at first.
I asked him to touch me, and he opened his eyes. He lifted his hands up to my
breasts and I gave him an encouraging smile.

I rode him slowly and steadily, enjoying the feeling of him sliding in and out
of my body. I locked my eyes onto his and he stared back at mine. He still
seemed nervous, of what I had no idea. After all, here was his sister fucking
him as he'd always wanted. He squeezed my breasts and continued to enjoy it.

I figured it out by then, why he was still unsure. I was on top doing all the
work. In his mind he was getting fucked, but if his ego was going to be built
up the way I wanted it... he was going to have to be the one doing the fucking.

"Nice, eh?" I asked him. He nodded, with something between a grunt and a sigh.
"You shouldn't let the girl do all the work though. It's nice for a while, but
you don't want her to think you are lazy right?" I said, still working my hips
in a circle, with him buried in me to the hilt.

He nodded, then shook his head... then grunted, "Right... oh my god Wend...
that feels... ahhh."

I knew what he was talking about. I was feeling the effects of my gyrating too.
I slowed it down a bit more and took a deep breath.

"I want you to roll me over, onto my back... without letting your cock slip out
of me... think you can do that?" I asked with a wink and a grin.

He nodded, then began to roll over.

I straightened my left leg as he tilted me in that direction, and in a moment
he was on top of me and still buried deep in my snatch. I smile and kissed him
deeply. He was lying flat on my body, and started to wiggle and gyrate his
pelvis a bit.

I pushed on his chest. "Sit up a bit... Support your weight on your arms... as
if you were gonna do pushups. It makes it more pleasurable for the girl...
better angle."

He complied, and as he did so I felt his cock sliding against my clit as it
glided in and out of me.

"Better?" he asked.

"Oh god, yeah," I breathed, clutching his back, and lightly digging my nails
into his flesh.

He seemed to like that, and pumped a bit faster. God, I thought, he's starting
to fuck me like a pro... I quickly reigned myself in though. I couldn't let
myself enjoy it too much...

After a few minutes of that, I lifted my legs up, telling him to scoop his arms
under them and lift my legs onto his shoulders. He did so, and I felt his
deepest penetrations. His cock was on the thin side, but it was certainly long
enough, and its banana-like shape was ensuring that he was tapping my G-spot
with each push.

I was gasping and grunting despite myself. I ran my fingers through my hair,
conscious of my breasts jiggling and swaying as he pounded into me harder and
faster. He was surely getting confident, or rather his animal lust was taking
over and usurping his sense of inferiority.

Whether he knew I was his sister or not on some intellectual level, all his
body was concerned with was that I was a warm female, a willing and inviting
socket to pump his throbbing cock. He was going for his orgasm, and I let my
own inhibitions slide. When we had started this, I was determined not to enjoy
it too much, and not to let my brother bring me to orgasm... but by then I was
too far gone to care.

As he grunted and thrust, I moaned like the slut I was, as he pushed my legs
back, almost folding me in two, his hips and balls slapping against me. My legs
were still over his shoulders, but he was now close enough to lick my jiggling
tits.

"I... think... I'm... uunnnh," was all I got before I felt the warm pulses
through the thin latex of his condom. I focused on the sensations of his rod
still gliding in and out, and that triggered my own orgasm that washed over me,
shaking me to the core.

When I returned to full awareness, I noted that he was laying on me with his
full weight, my legs out to the side. I wrapped them around his waist, locking
my ankles, and pulled his pelvis tight against me.

"Did you like that Michael?" I asked needlessly, but with an impish desire to
hear him vocalize it.

"That was... awesome Wend."

We held each other for a little while, then before he could fully deflate, I
told him to pull out, and to be careful the condom came out with him. I told
him to knot it, and flush it. I then went to the bathroom across the hall to
wash myself up.

When I came back in, it was a bit awkward, but I was determined not to let it
become a wedge between us. I pulled my panties on, and put on my t shirt.

"Too bad I'm your sister huh? If I wasn't, I'd love to be your girlfriend.
You've got the potential to be a great lay."

"So I was good for a first timer?" he asked hopefully.

"Mike, you know I'd tell you the truth. You were great. You weren't the best
I've ever had, and you probably figured that... but all you need is practice.
I'd advise you to go and get some."

It didn't really sound too encouraging in retrospect, but it was enough for
him. It wasn't long before he'd gotten over his shyness, and was getting laid
on his own merit. I'd love it when he'd come home and tell me all about it.

I also figured that he yearned to have another session with me... but even
though I sometimes considered it myself, we kept to our vow - never again. At
least for a long time... though not exactly forever.

More on that another time.


Write me?

Syndarella_Snowhite@hotmail.com