Where it happened: home
Langauge: english
Sex: Male
Rating: 5
Category: Straight
The Greatest Day of My Life
Not all that long ago when I was about 15 years old, I was the only boy in the family, and was just barely coming into puberty. I was the youngest of 3 kids in my family, with two older sisters, Donna and Deb. Deb was about 19 and Donna was 16. I was small for my age, and as I mentioned, was just starting puberty at 15. We lived in a time when, ‘Sex and development’ were not mentioned at home or in school. It was all learned in the locker room or a tree house over Playboy magazines.
Since I was quite small for my age, my sisters still played around with me as if I were still a little kid, and I loved every minute of the attention. I got along pretty well with my sisters, particularly Donna, who was closest to my age.
Going along with the theme that I was the baby in the house, I went with it completely. I got a lot of laughs and attention, and I enjoyed being the, “Little” kid. We wrestled, and tickled, and ran around chasing each other, never realizing that we were all growing up, slowly.
I remember one cold winter night just before bedtime, when I had just come out of the shower with a towel wrapped around me, I came into the living room where my parents were watching Ed Sullivan;
“It’s freezing in this house!” I said.
“Go up stairs and put something on.” My mom replied.
As I got to the top of the stairs leading to the bedrooms in the house, Donna met me in the hall and said, “You can borrow one of my sweaters, that will keep you warm.”
Now at this point in my life, I hated sweaters! They were just plain itchy. And I quickly said, “No thanks! You know I hate sweaters!”
“I have some sweaters that are really warm and not itchy at all. Come on into my room and just feel them; I guarantee that you’ll like them, and you did say that you were cold.”
She gave me a gentle push and I found myself in her girly smelling bedroom. It made me alittle uncomfortable, but again, I liked the attention. She opened her closet door and took two very fluffy looking sweaters down from the top shelf. One was white and had a regular crewneck, and the other was a red turtleneck.
She said, “Just feel these,” and pushed them into my bare chest. My hands came up, feeling the incredibly soft sweaters. My face came down into them, and the soft fluffiness of the mohair/angora sweater came across my cheek. This felt good; soft and not scratchy. Nothing like the one wool sweater I had in my closet that I put on once and immediately took off, and never touched again.
“Don’t they feel great?” Donna asked.
“Wow! These sweaters are really soft. And they don’t itch,” As I pushed them against my bare skin.
“I told you you’d like them. Which one do want to borrow – just for tonight you understand, because when you see how comfortable it is, you’re gonna want to keep it. I know you.”
“Hummmm, I thought, and felt them both. They’re going to be too big for me.”
“Just for running around the house at night, either one will be fine.” She said.
“Ok then, I like the white one.” And raised the two sweaters so she could take the red one back, which she did and carefully folded it and put it back on the closet shelf.
I started fumbling with the white sweater looking for the bottom to put it on, but the sweater was a bit big for me and I was getting lost.
“Here, let me help you,” Donna said taking the sweater from me. Quickly she had the bottom open and held up for me, and instinctively as a little kid would, I raised my arms over my head, and the softness of that sweater slipped over my head and wrapped around my body for the very first time. Oh this felt fantastic!!!! It wasn’t all that big on me either. My fingers actually reached the end of the sleeves; the neck was just loose enough to be very comfortable; but the bottom came down almost to my knees.
“That’s perfect on you,” Donna said. “And you look soooo cute too”.
I wasn’t sure about the, “Cute,” part, but then I thought for a moment and felt, “Hummmm – OK, so I am cute; And if this sweater makes me ever more cute, I’ll take it.”
“Let’s see,” she said and stepped back to take a good look, noticing the towel that was wrapped around my waist from my shower, hanging almost to my ankles. Take that towel off now – it’s probably damp and I don’t want my sweater getting damp.”
“What?” I said, and looked down to see that the sweater was fully covering me to my knees. “Oh yea.” I said.
I started fumbling again to get my hands out of the sleeves so I could get at the towel. Then Donna showed me how to pull my arms out of the sleeves from inside the sweater so I could undo the towel easily from the inside. (I never knew that trick.)
And the towel fell to the floor, allowing the wonderfully soft sweater to now touch, ‘All,” of me.
As the softness of the sweater touched my upper legs and backside, a new yet fairly familiar feeling was – well, beginning to rise. I pretended to ignore it, in hopes that it would stop and go away. A technique that has mostly worked in the past – up till now. (I was 15, and although I was starting puberty late, I was starting, and things were a bit bigger than when I was 14.)
I put my arms and hands in front on myself to conceal my excitement when my sister said, “Wanna get tickled?”
Now getting tickled to the point where I was delirious with laughter and gasping for breath, was a common event between my sisters and me. They never tickled to the point where it wasn’t fun anymore – just enough to get me crazy and begging for them to stop.
So just as I was standing there trying not to think about the one thing happening that I couldn’t stop thinking about happpening, down there, I was attacked and pushed back onto her bed. I was engulfed in laugher as Donna knew all of my most tickelish places – mostly my arm pits.
Rolling from side to side on the bed, arms and legs flailing in the air, I completely forgot that I had nothing on under that sweater, and the combination of the soft sweater and physical contact, made things ‘down there’ about as excited as ‘It,’ could get. With all the kicking and flailing and underarm tickling, the sweater had pulled up some, and I was completely unaware on it.
Donna stopped tickling and stood up beside the bed to ask if I’d had enough? Both of us trying to catch our breath.
“Had enough?”
“No! Not if that’s the best you can do!” I yelled back.
Momentarily, as I lay on my back on the bed, arms and legs out stretched, it was my sister’s eyes looking down, that told me where she was looking and what she was seeing.
I quickly sat up enough to look, and see that my full erection with a very thin patch of newly grown black fuzz, was right there in front of my sister to see. I quickly rolled onto my side and pulled the sweater down to well below my knees and buried my face under one of my arms.
Donna sat down on the side of the bed; I quickly pulled away and rolled over more with my back toward her.
“Bobby, Bobby, don’t feel ashamed or embarrassed. It’s OK. It’s really OK. Honest! Come on….”
Then she put her hand on my shoulder and tugged to get me to roll over – I did, but very slowly. I think I had a tear in my eye, partly from the tickling and partly from total embarrassment. I had one arm over my forehead and the other by my side on the bed – and “It” was still sticking straight up, but from under the sweater now. Part of me didn’t care anymore – she already saw, “It”. And then a wave of emotion came over me that me wanted me to get angry, and yell, and hate her. I felt so confused, and so embarrassed; and so unable to do anything.
With her thumb, she wiped away the tear in my eye, and looked right at me, and said, “You are my wonderful little brother; and nothing will ever change that. In fact, you’re even more wonderful now that you’re 15, and, well, you know, growing up.” And she gave a quick glance toward the little tent under the sweater down there, and then, smiled gently, still looking me right in the eye.
“Hummmmmmm,” I thought. “I didn’t expect this. I would have figured that she’d be laughing and making fun of me all over the house.”
“What’s happening ‘down there”, she said, as her eyes moved to the thing poking up from under the sweater, ” Is perfectly normal for a boy your age. And I am happy for you, so very happy for you, because you are my little brother. In fact, I am so happy for you, that I want to tickle you some more. OK? Please?”
A small smile came across my lips, and I shook my head, yes; bracing my body for the attack.
The tickling attack commenced with no mercy. Arms and legs flailed in the air once again, this time with wild abandon. My excitement increased more and more as I laughed and giggled, my sister’s fingers wiggling up and down my sides; sometimes through the sweater and sometimes under the sweater, and some times on my thighs.
I knew that much of the time “It,” was sticking right out there from under the sweater, and probably not even under the sweater, but I didn’t care.
Then, almost from out of no where, I was beginning to feel something I never felt before; and this new feeling wanted my sister to keep tickling me, more and more and more – and to tickle me lower – down there – and never stop! I cried out to her, “Is that the best you can do to torture me? This is paddy cake tickling.”
“Oh yea,” she said. “I’ve just been getting warmed up. Now you’re really in for it.”
The attack was on with me rolling from side to side on the bed pretendfing to be trying to get away, and the more I felt the soft sweater sometimes rubbing against it, and then sometimes not – knowing that ‘It,’ was out in full view most of the time, (And I liked it!), the more intense ‘something new,’ was happening. Something, I have never felt before, and the feeling was unbelievable; Better than any tickling I have ever had in my life.
Then Donna stopped and sat up beside me, her hands still on my sides – the sweater was pushed well up. “IT” was throbbing, as it had never done before. I grabbed her hands and moved them lower toward my hips and thighs saying, “Tickle my legs. Don’t stop!!!!”
“Oh really,” she said. “If that’s what you want.” And her fingers began to tickle the outsides of my legs, behind my knees, and then up the insides of my thighs.
I spread my legs apart alittle bit, and her fingers started to touch my balls, ever so gently.
Then it started. Donna’s hands were between my thighs, now rubbing up and down – pushing on my balls as they came up.
“Keep doing that!” I said. “It’s making me crazy! So much better than tickling! Keep doing . . . ohhhhh!”
My back began to arch; Something was happening that was out of my control; I reached down and grabbed Donna’s hands and pulled them onto my balls and just held them there – I think with considerable force. I wasn’t thinking anymore. I didn’t know what I was doing or what was happening. The sweater was pushed well up; I looked down and saw my erection, bigger and more intense than it had ever been in my young life was right in front of my sister’s face. She was staring at it sort of smiling. My whole body quivered, my back arched, every muscle tensed, and I seemingly exploaded! My semen squirted again and again and again and again – my sister’s warm hands gently queezing my testicles. I squirted all over my arms, stomach and chest. Some hit my face as loked down seeing it all.
When it was over, myh head and entire bod collapsed into the bed and shook. I continued to breathe very deeply for what seemed like forever. I continued to hold my sister’s hands, now right on my penis. She didn’t move or say anything. Then, when I somewhat caught my breath, with eyes closed, I whispered, “Am I still your wonderful brother?”
“Oh Bobby,” she whispered; “Now more than ever. For all the money in the world, I wouldn’t want any other brother but you. And what just happened; is a wonderful thing.”
I still held her hands which were now slippery with my semen, and she slipped them up and down a couple of times on my still, very erect penis, before taking them away. She took my handes in hers and said, “Whoever ends up being your girlfriend, will be a very lucky girl. I am so glad you are my brother.”
Then she touched my cheeks and kissed me on the forehead. I could smell the distinctive odor ofs emen on her hands; my semen.
“Hummmmm, what about all this, hummmm?” I asked, now opening my eyes to see what was all over me and my sister’s hands and arms.
“Hold on,” she said standing up and getting a handful of tissues. She wiped the semen off her hands and then started to wipe it off my belly; there was a lot of it all over, and it had the most interesting smell.
“I can do that, ” I said and started to sit up.
She pushed my shoulder to get me to lay down again, and I did.
“I know you can, but I want to for you. OK?” and looked me right in the eye.
“OK,” I said, and laid back down and closed my eyes. The sensation of being full showing in front of my sister, and her wiping my cum off my stomach was causing me to get excited all over again; especially when she touched my penis gently to wipe it off.
I scooted up on my elbows and looked at her and then at my erection and said with a grin, “I’ll bet you umm. can’t make that happen again.”
“Oh yes I can,” she said. “And you know I can.”
With that, she pulled the sweater down over my now fully erect penis again and said, “You’re on your own this time little brother. Oh, and give back my sweater when you’re done with it. I’ll wash it for you and give it back. You don’t just put a sweater in the washing machine. You can have it. Sort of, well . . . You know, You can have it. But let me wash it for you. OK? Promise.”
I promised.
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