The following fictional story is being reposted by Mr Double.  If you are the author of this story and would like to receive proper recognition (an Author's Page at my website at: http://pw1.netcom.com/~mrdouble/main/stories.html), please contact me at mrdouble@ix.netcom.com.








Archive-name: Family/hot-sibs.mf
Archive-author: Sleazy Liz, 3/92
Archive-title: Mischievious Siblings


     I'm writing this now, because I've been thinking about it
ever since yesterday afternoon.  I haven't been able to sleep, so
I'll get it out of my mind, right now.  It really is weird the
way you forget something for years and years, and then - BAM! -
it's back.  
     Yesterday, I was waiting in line at the drug store, and I
was just standing there looking at all the remedies on the shelf,
when I saw this little box with the big words "Fleet Enema."  My
knees turned to rubber and I lost my breath.  I was afraid to
look at it again.  I wanted to pick it up, but I didn't dare do
it.  Then, when I noticed the drawing of a small bottle, with a
cute little nozzle on it, it all came rushing back.

     I can't really remember anything about my first "sex
experience" except that our Mother caught us.  I was so red with
guilt and so frightened, the rest is only a big blur.  I must
have been about six or seven.  My brother, Donny (who is eight
years older than me) and I were playing "Doctor."  He was the
doctor and I was his patient, laying on my belly under the dining
room table.  He'd already pulled my shorts and panties down, so
my behind was bare when Mom saw us and went crazy.
     Then I can't remember anything about anything until I was in
the fifth grade, and I mean nothing about anything!  I'm sure I
would not be able to remember playing Doctor that time if it
weren't for the shock of being caught.  I can remember all kinds
of regular things from about the fifth grade on, and, in
particular, one very rainy night when our folks were gone for the
evening.  
     I was lying on the couch, in my bathrobe, watching TV.  My
brother, Gary (four years older than me) had finished his shower
and was standing next to me in his bathrobe, when he asked right
out of the blue if I wanted to see his erection.  I don't think
he actually used the word "erection," but I can't remember what
word he did use - probably "boner."  I do remember pretending
that I was not interested in the least.  He told me that he would
show me his if I would show him mine, so, finally, I told him to
go first.
     We were really stupid.  The lights were all on, of course,
and the old lady next door must have been spying on us.  The next
day, my Mother had a special talk with me about me allowing
anyone to do anything to me "down there."  Gary and I hadn't done
anything, but I didn't tell her that.  I was so upset I'm sure I
just promised her that I'd never let anyone do anything.  Ever!  
     Nothing really did happen that night.  Gary agreed to show
me his, first, if I then showed him mine.  I was surprised that
he had some hair.  I'd NEVER seen an erect penis in my life, and
it did look huge.  At least it looked much larger than I thought
it would.  Maybe it was because he was standing right in my face. 
I can remember telling him to stand back.  
     It was almost funny.  Gary let his bathrobe fall to the
floor and he marched around with that thing of his sticking out
in front of him.  I can still see it flapping up and down!
     He asked me if I wanted to touch it.  At first, I was
disgusted by the thought and afraid, but after a minute of
thinking about it, I didn't dare tell him that I really DID want
to touch it, so I refused.  
     I really felt naughty, and maybe that was the best part,
when I opened my bathrobe and allowed him to stand there looking
down at my little, 10 year old, nude body.  
     The first several times we showed ourselves to each other
(despite Mother's stern talk), Gary told me to open my legs, but
I always refused.  He told me that he couldn't see anything, so,
finally, one day, I put one foot on the floor and one on the
sofa. 
     He bent over to look closer, and asked if he could touch it. 
I snapped my legs together, covered myself with my bathrobe and
gave him a very loud, "No!"                  
     We played that game several more times, but nothing
happened, so I wouldn't really call them "sexual" experiences. 
We did, from then on, make sure that no one would be able to see
us.  I remember doing it while lying on my bed, and once or twice
while lying on his.
     By just a year or so later, our little "show and tell" game
had progressed until, one night, we were both sitting in the
empty bathtub fully nude.  I had my back to one end and Gary was
sitting at the other end.  Both of us had our knees up and apart.
     Gary began touching and rubbing his erection.  I was
fascinated, watching his hand stroke up and down.  When he again
asked if he could touch me, I finally decided that I wanted him
to.  I told him he could, but only on the outside - he couldn't
go inside.  I was deathly afraid that he would try to go inside
me, somehow, and that fear is all I can remember of him touching
me the first time.  
     The next day he asked me if I wanted to play in the bathtub,
again, and I told him that I didn't want to do that anymore.  He
didn't argue, he just walked away without saying anything.  No
hard feelings.
     One day, around this same time, I asked my best friend,
Beth, if she knew what an enema was.  I can remember looking it
up in the dictionary, but that didn't answer my curiosity.  I'd
been wondering what an enema was since our Mother gave Gary one.
I wasn't allowed to see what was going on and I didn't want to
ask my brother about it, but I was very curious.  It sounded
secret and mysterious and I just knew they had to be naughty -
and being naughty was the feeling I liked best.
     Beth and I had been doing naughty things together for the
last few months.  Both her parents worked and after school we'd
get the rectal thermometer from her bathroom and go into the big
bushes behind her house where no one could see us.  We would drop
our panties and lift our skirts and take turns bending over so
the other could slide it in.  We both liked what it felt like to
have something small and smooth in our behinds.  I also watched
her pee once, but that was all.
     So, one night when our parents and older brothers were gone
again, and when Gary asked me if I had ever had an enema, I got
very excited.  I told him that I didn't even know what they were,
but that I knew he'd had one.  He asked me if I wanted to find
out what they were like.  I could see that look on his face, and
he must have realized that I was also very eager.  He didn't wait
for my reply, he just told me to follow him to his bedroom.  
     He told me to wait and he came back from the bathroom with a
container that had a long clear tube.  It had warm water in it,
and Gary made me feel the temperature with my fingers, to assure
me that it was not too hot.  He promised me that it would feel
real good, but that I had to take all my clothes off first.  So,
without hesitation, I did.  
     He slid further back on the bed, with his legs out, and told
me to lay down over his thighs on my belly.  I still remember
that he was wearing pants that felt very rough.  
     I was trying to be patient, but the way he was pulling my
behind apart, I was beginning to think he couldn't find my
opening.  Then I felt the tip and it hurt, and I told him so.  
     He pushed me away, jumped up, and told me that he'd
forgotten something.  He came right back with the bottle of hand
lotion from the kitchen.  
     When I asked him what he was going to do with it, he just
told me not to worry and that it wouldn't hurt now.  I got back
over his lap and heard him squirt some lotion out of the bottle. 
He told me to lift my rear up slightly and then I felt his cold,
wet finger on my rear hole.  I felt him spreading it all around
and pushing in slightly and then his finger slipped right in.  
     It felt so big!  But it didn't hurt, it just felt very, very
good and much better than what Beth and I had done a few times
with the thermometer. 
     I was afraid he'd pull his finger out as I let myself drop
back down onto his lap and I knew I didn't want him to take it
out.  He knew I liked it because he was very gentle and just
moved it in and out a little at a time, while I clenched and
relaxed my buttocks to feel it even better.
     After his wonderful finger, the little tube felt like
nothing in comparison, but I liked the feeling of it going in and
his fingers pushing my behind apart.  (One of these days I'm
going to have to ask Gary if he remembers the first time and what
he was thinking at the time!)  The water was nice and warm and I
could feel it flowing in a little, and that felt good, too.  Then
I heard him say that was enough.  I was almost sad that it was
over.  He told me to go to the bathroom and sit down, and he
followed me in.  
     Now, I felt almost embarrassed as he watched me sitting on
the toilet.  Not much came out and I was worried that all of the
water hadn't come out and would never come out.
     When he asked me if I'd like to do it again, I almost said
no, but I knew a night like this was really special and I was
afraid that nothing like this would ever happen to me again in my
whole life.  He promised that, this time, it would feel even
better.  
     I ran back to his bed.  He got fully undressed with his back
to me.  I could see his bare behind, but that was all, and then
he put his bathrobe on.  I laid down on his lap again, and he did
not have to ask me to lift up my rear.  His finger was so good
going in, it was like it was long enough to reach the back of my
mouth.  Uncontrollably, I was rubbing my pubis into his thighs. 
I almost went dizzy from the pleasure.  
     When I felt his finger leaving my anus, I told him to forget
the enema and to put his finger back in.  Feeling it push back in
was all I wanted.  Then I became aware of his erection, hard on
my thigh through his bathrobe.  It had been there all along, but
I hadn't been paying any notice to him.  When I felt his other
hand try to part my legs further, I allowed him and felt cool dry
air where I was now so warm and wet.  I felt his fingertips
touching my vagina lips ever so softly.  The room spun, and I got
so dizzy and hot, I fainted.             
     It was like this sudden dream that built very quickly and
just took over everything and my whole being.  Then, very fast
and wild, I was falling through huge water and it was over.  
     I was in the sixth grade and eleven years old, and I didn't
know it at the time, but I'd had my real first orgasm.  I didn't
know what to call it and I don't recall that we called it
anything.  All I knew is that I wanted it again and again.  
     My brothers and I had been fighting with each other for
years and Dad was always asking when we were going to stop being
so mean to each other.  I think it was after that first "enema"
that Gary and I got along much better with each other.  That is
what we called it, even though we never bothered with the
container or water again until about a half-year later.
     For the next half-year or so, I'd ask him each time we had
the chance, if he'd give me an "enema," or he'd ask me if I
wanted one.  Usually, we'd do it in his bedroom, sometimes in
mine.  He always wore his bathrobe and was never fully nude, but
I often felt him hard and warm against my thigh.  Most of the
time, we didn't even bother with a real enema - just his fingers
and the lotion.
     One day, instead of me laying over his lap, I got on my
hands and knees, with my head down and my behind up as high as it
could go.  Gary said he liked that position, and got on the bed
behind me and, as I was feeling his finger going into me, deeper
and deeper, his bathrobe fell open.  
     Looking back underneath my open legs, I saw him hard.  He
wasn't touching himself, it was throbbing all by itself.  Just as
I was about to have that glorious wild faint, I reached back,
took his erection in my hand and hung on for all I was worth.  It
was all so sudden, I think I scared him out of his wits, but it
was all very good for me.  And that was the first time I wanted
to do something good for him, too.
     All that time up till that day, Gary always did what I
wanted and needed until I had a climax, sometimes two, and I
never thought about doing anything to or with him.  He was always
so gentle with me.  He never stuck anything into my vagina, only
in my behind.  He would rub me in front until I was wet, and that
never took very long because his finger, full of hand lotion,
felt so good slipping in and out of my behind.  
     After that first time, when I actually touched his cock, I
told him that I wanted to give him an "enema."  
     By now, we'd found ways and places to do it more often and
without waiting for our parents to be gone.  Several times, we
used the big bushes in Beth's backyard, but Gary liked the place
we'd made in the attic of our garage much better.  
     It was a huge, old garage full of junk.  None of the cars
were even kept in there.  The attic of that garage was big
enough, but the only way to get up there was with a long ladder. 
It was high and full of stuff, but we made a clearing there big
enough for the two of us to move around.  Several layers of
cardboard and old blankets made it soft enough.  There wasn't
much light but we could see what we needed in the daytime.  At
night we'd bring a flashlight, but we never needed it for long. 
Gary would pull the ladder up behind us and we always felt very
safe.  One evening we heard our Mother calling, but we remained
silent and she was soon gone. 
     It was in that place that Gary agreed I could "do" him. 
We'd talked about it on the way to school, and I couldn't wait to
get home.  I day-dreamed about it all day long.  I think we both
ran  home that afternoon! 
     Our Mother was out shopping, Father was at work, so we would
be alone.   We decided to use the garage attic just in case; just
to be safe.  
     When we were safely hidden away, I helped Gary pull his
pants down and off all the way.  He wanted me fully nude, too,
and that was fine with me.  I pulled his underpants down and his
penis sprang out fully erect.  We didn't say a word.  
     He was hesitant, and I asked him if anyone had ever slipped
anything into him.  He said no.  I asked if he'd ever put
anything into himself, and he said no.  But I could tell that he
wanted it now, even if he was slow in turning around and putting
himself in the position I'd enjoyed so many times with him.  
     He finally laid down on his belly.  I dug out the spare
bottle of hand lotion we kept hidden and squeezed some down onto
his crack, where I dipped my finger to get it all full and
slippery.  I tried to spread his cheeks apart with the finger of
my other hand, but they were too hard and too close together.  He
was also holding them tight, and that didn't help. 
     He was almost fifteen, way taller than me, with more hair,
but he sure had a small butt.  I pushed his legs apart while he
was lying there on his belly, but he must have been lying on his
penis because I couldn't see it between his legs.  All I could
see was his funny-looking scrotum.  It felt soft and rough and
hard all at the same time, so I smeared some hand lotion on it, 
also.  
     I didn't have to ask him, he raised his rear and his behind
opened more.  I could now feel his hole.  I knew right where it
was and I tried to push lotion into it with one finger tip, but
it was still too tight, and that only made me more determined to
push my finger in.  His rear was up as high as it could go and he
was pushing it back and forth towards me and my finger.  
     I didn't want to go in yet, I just wanted to watch for a
while.  His erection was hard and sticking out towards his own
face down on the blanket, with him saying "yes, yes," with a
voice made small with the anticipation of newness and for what he
wanted even more than I wanted to do.  I didn't want to touch his
hardness, yet, I just wanted to watch it while I pressed more
firmly and pushed in, as he pulsated up and down.  
     He closed his hot little hole tight around my finger and he
groaned out his last resistance.  I was in!  I moved slowly in
and out a few times, not fast enough or deep enough, so he pushed
himself back around my finger.  
     I slowly touched his hard penis several times, then wrapped
my fingers around it, and tried to hold him in place.  Gary
moaned back and forth on his knees.  It felt like something alive
in my hand, and about to burst, while the finger on my other hand
was going deeper and faster, in and out of his rear hole.  
     It happened so fast, I wasn't sure what happened.  Gary
cried out.  I was sure I must have hurt him, and then something
deep inside him broke and something shot out several times very
fast.  I couldn't really even see it flying wildly, only feeling
the throbbing of his cock in my one hand, and his tightness
clamped lock-tight around my finger.  He died and fell
full-length onto the blanket.  I thought he had died!  
     Finally, he rolled over onto his back, his face was all wet. 
We were both afraid he'd broken something and that it had burst
out and over everything.  We couldn't see it well, but we could
feel it and it was thick and sticky and all wet.  His hands were
shaking.  
     I used part of an old towel to clean his face and chest and
where it was stuck in his hair and behind his ear.  He said he
was cold as he pulled me down along side of him.  I pulled a
blanket over both of us, and I think we slept.  
     He was worried sick for several days, and tried to hide it
from me.  Then one day shortly after, he was all happy and
jumping up and down.  He told me that he had had his first orgasm
and ejaculation that afternoon up in the garage attic with me and
that we should do it again and again.  
     I didn't understand most of what he was trying to explain,
and I can't recall most of what he said, but I do remember
feeling great knowing that we could both have orgasms, even if
his was not at all like mine.
     We both learned about masturbation, even though we didn't
know the word, and we helped each other or watched each other. 
He could grab himself and do it with one hand moving up and down,
first slowly and then faster.  I could do it by lying on my back
or side and just pressing the tips of my fingers up where I was
warm and wet.  I could do it to him with my hand, and he could do
it to me real well with just the tip of one finger.  But most of
the time we liked it much better when we gave each other
"enemas."                                  
     Our sexual experimentation and education took off after
that.  When I was still in sixth grade, I learned what anal
intercourse was and we did it the first time that fall, up in the
attic of our garage.  It became a daily ritual for us.  We would
both hurry home from school and sneak away to our attic.  Almost
breathless, we would virtually rip off our clothes, watching and
smiling at each other.  Gary would slop the lotion on his fingers
and he would make me wet and anxious for him by frigging my anus
and playing with my pussy.  Then, I would squeeze lotion on my
hand and rub it all over his erection.  I'd assume "the position"
and Gary would slowly fill me with his flesh.  Deeper and deeper,
until i could feel his scrotum brushing against my buns.  Then
he'd start his exquisite "in and out," flicking his finger over
my clit with the same rhythm.  My orgasms would be monstrous, and
more than once I fainted.  If we were lucky, we'd have a chance
to sneak out there again, before we were sent to bed for the
night.
     We also began using things other than our fingers, but not
much larger, and we'd each learned to take several small real
enemas, with just plain warm water in the bathroom, before we
went up into the garage attic.  
     By seventh grade, we were completely hooked on oral sex,
doing it to each other at least once a day.  When we were in a
hurry (like in the morning, when Mother was showering), we would
get into a sixty-nine position for a quick come for both of us. 
But, we liked to take our time, the best.  After school, up into
the attic we would go.  Naked and horny, we would take turns.  I
would grease up a candle and press it up Gary's butt as I sucked
his penis into my mouth.  I got really good at slipping the
candle in and out with the same timing I sucked his erection in
and out.  Then, he would do the same for me, greasing a pretty
pink candle and gently pushing it up and inside me as he licked
my slit and sucked my clit between his lips and teeth.
     We did it whenever and wherever we could -- sneaking into
each other's room late at night, watching TV alone on Saturday
morning, hiding in bushes, in the back of the car -- everywhere.
     Gary really was the nicest brother a girl could have and
everything went along very well, until I was in eighth grade,
when he started dating Jill and I felt "left out."  Jill was a
neighbor who had been chasing Gary for years, and I guess it just
got to the point where it was easier for him to say yes than no.
     About the same time, a boy, Josh, moved into the house down
our street and he and I became good friends.  I have to say that
he was my "first love," and I convinced myself that being with
him at that time was much more important to me than being with
Gary; but, I look back on that time, now, and see a lot of it as
my jealousy over Jill.
     It was with Josh that I first discovered and enjoyed vaginal
intercourse, at 13.  Soon after trying it the first time with
Josh, I showed Gary how good it felt.  I was his "first."  And
after that, the two of us rutted like minks, day and night.
     I never took Josh up into the garage attic, though, and I
never told anyone else about it.  It was our special place, and
Gary felt the same way.  I have never tried anal intercourse with
anyone other than with Gary.
     I've been married to Bill almost fourteen wonderful years
and we have two great kids.  Gary went with a few other girls,
but never seriously, and he eventually married Jill.  They have
three beautiful children.  
     There have been some rough times for both of us over the
years, and a few times Gary has been there to give me some of the
wonderful closeness we shared as children.  When we are lucky, we
find ourselves with the opportunity to be alone and we give
ourselves to each other, totally, completely, and in every way
physically possible.  The last occasion was several times this
summer as our two families vacationed together.  
     The word "incest" is so ugly, I can't and won't call what
Gary and I have that awful word.  I am a good, Christian, Church-
going, God-fearing woman and mother, and I won't believe what
Gary and I share is wrong.
     If I got carried away in a few places in my writing, it is
only because the memories are now still very real, and feeling
all those things feels so good, again.  We were never "caught,"
and for that I'm also thankful.  The world is a different place
now.  

--
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