11-24-2025, 08:02 PM
Chapter 1
Joey Harris was one of the brightest students in her class. But Joey Harris didn't understand one thing, and it drove her crazy.
School had always come easily to her, which made the situation so frustrating. No matter the subject—math, science, literature, social studies, even art and music—Joey was a star. But what she had learned today… well, it didn't make any sense to her. It just didn't seem… right.
She sighed, leaned back in her green faux-leather bus seat, and brushed her chestnut-brown hair out of her hazel eyes. Joey had long legs and was in great shape thanks to playing hockey year-round. When she looked in the mirror, she knew she was pretty without makeup, like her mother, thanks to her large, doe-like eyes, perfectly proportioned nose, and full lips. Dimples appeared when she smiled—which was often, except now.
The bus slowed to a stop to reach the penultimate stop – her house was the final stop – and as she watched the Richardson twins get off, the familiar scent of cool cologne water fell onto the seat next to her.
"What's up, sister?" her brother asked casually.
Justin O'Connor wasn't really Joey's brother. Four years ago, Joey's mother married Justin's father, and they all—including Joey's little brother Caleb—moved into a renovated farmhouse in the middle of nowhere.
“Hello,” Joey said softly, her gaze fixed on her bare knees, which peeked out from under her anthracite pleated skirt.
"Wow," Justin replied. "What's wrong with you?"
She shrugged without looking at him. "Who said something was wrong?"
“Hi,” he repeated mockingly, sounding like a cross between Dumbo and Eeyore. “You’re not as lively as usual.”
She shrugged. "Stupid day today."
"How come?"
“I’m having a hard time,” she said contemptuously. “I didn’t understand something in class, and now I won’t be able to finish school, I’ll never go to college, and I’ll die somewhere an old maid, completely unloved and never remembered.”
Justin laughed and playfully nudged her in the side with his elbow. "My goodness, you're such a dork. I bet I know what you didn't understand."
“Yeah, ri-”
"Health education. Yes?"
Joey froze, held her breath, and felt her heart stop for a moment.
"How did you know that?"
"A guy from your class on the hockey team. Come on, Joey." She felt his elbow dig lightly into her ribs. "Can you tell me where babies come from?"
"Stop it," she said in a tense voice.
"Wow. Something's not right, is it?"
"I don't want to talk about it."
"Are you sure? Maybe you'll feel better if you get it off your chest."
Joey finally turned around and looked at her brother. His handsome Irish face met his gaze, freckles covering his forehead and cheekbones, blue eyes glittering in the sunlight streaming through the windows, full pink lips curled into a perpetual grin.
Justin was the kind of person who was good at everything he did. Maybe not as educated as Joey, but smart enough and then some. He was good at sports, especially hockey; good at music, especially the saxophone. Everyone loved him—whether because of his incredibly friendly nature or his boyish looks, Joey couldn't quite say.
“You’re going to laugh at me,” Joey replied desperately.
“No, I won’t,” he replied, and she saw his face turn serious—wrinkles formed on his forehead, his eyes narrowed, and his infectious smile faded. “I understand—it’s uncomfortable and can be confusing.”
Joey took a deep breath – she felt her ears turn red. This was beyond embarrassing.
But she looked at Justin, who was ready to listen to what she had to say. They had grown close—especially in recent years. They had a lot in common—they were about the same age and had both experienced the death of a parent. Of all the people she could tell, if the possibilities were endless, she would choose Justin.
"It's about... the penis."
„Okay.“
Joey braced herself for a joke – when it became clear that no one was coming, she continued:
"Okay. The thing about sperm and egg. I've always known that. But I don't think I knew how it happened."
"Like the penis penetrating the vagina?" Justin asked. His trembling voice sounded as if he himself were nervous about talking about it, which actually reassured Joey.
"No. Well, sort of. Yes, in a way."
„Okay. Also, was?“
She took a deep breath.
"Okay. Actually, there are two things."
Justin watched expectantly.
"It's the erection. And the ejaculation."
The bus brakes squealed, and Joey felt the deceleration as the bus stop approached. When the bus came to a halt, they both stood up, wearing white polo shirts with blue and gold trim, and got off. Justin led the way, and because he was lying right in front of him, Joey couldn't help but notice how cute Justin's butt looked in his gray pants.
Eww, what? That was her brother.
After all, yes. Stepbrother.
"Okay, erection and ejaculation. What exactly is that?" Justin asked as the bus started moving and the rumble of the diesel engine faded away on the horizon.
"It's just... how does that happen?" Joey asked, annoyed, her voice rising, her words tumbling together like Jenga blocks. "Like it just... gets hard and sticks out? Seems uncomfortable. How hard does it get? And the ejaculation—I thought that happened more on a microscopic level. But it sounds... chaotic."
"Okay, okay. First of all – yes, ejaculations are definitely messy."
She frowned in modest surprise. "Have you ever had one before?"
Justin stammered, "So, I mean, I—yeah, Joey. Most guys—most guys my age have that." Joey noticed his pale skin turning pink. "How hard does it get? I don't know… really hard? Feels like bones, even though they aren't. That's why some people call them boners."
Joey felt something strange stirring in her stomach. Talking to her stepbrother like this, learning things about him that few—maybe no one—knew, felt intimate, and she found it exciting to know that he was obviously confiding all this personal information in her.
"Okay. Erection." She tried the word as if she were trying a new food for the first time. "How does that happen? Can you control it? Can you just make it happen?"
They reached the front of their house, a turn-of-the-century home whose weathered appearance concealed the modern upgrades and renovations inside.
"Uh, sort of," said Justin, unlocking the front door with his key. "Sometimes it happens by itself. But I can make it happen if I want to."
"How?"
"Well... by thinking about things I like."
"I like?"
Justin's face turned even darker.
"Girls. Naked girls, mostly."
Joey was all flustered. Justin was thinking about naked girls? And when he did, he got an erection? It was hard to imagine Justin doing that—Justin, the straight-A student, Justin, the hockey star, Justin, the saxophone soloist. But he did. He told her. He confided in her.
"Does this help in any way?" he asked, as he placed his bags in the open foyer in front of her house.
"Yes. In a way, yes."
"Sort of?"
"I wish I could... you know... see it?"
"See it?" he squealed, his eyes widening.
"Yes, the illustrations in the book looked confusing. I mean, the vagina in there didn't look like a real one at all—"
"Mhm," Justin said, grinning, when she suddenly stopped. "Go ahead."
"You know what I mean. If I could see the whole process, it would make more sense to me. Like... like watching someone cook instead of just reading a recipe."
"Well, I don't know what to tell you, sis. There are porn films, but I don't know how to get my hands on them."
Joey grunted in frustration. He was right—there was no way to actually see all of this. (Years later, as the internet grew, she would wish it had existed when she was growing up.) Right now, what she wanted was essentially impossible.
Na ja. Fast.
There it was, right in front of her—his 5'5" and 110 lbs. It was something she hadn't even considered before, but their conversation had excited her, encouraged her, and made her brave. She looked into Justin's face and thought about the other boys at her school, how they compared to him. Her friends had made comments about Justin before—it was no secret that more than a few of them had crushes on her stepbrother. She'd never really thought about it, but now, during this intimate conversation, Joey was beginning to see the truth: Justin wasn't just handsome, he wasn't just cute.
Justin was hot.
And as they climbed the main staircase to the second floor, her thoughts wandered to strange, crazy places. Places she'd never been. The times she'd seen Justin's taut torso recently, shirtless, coming out of the shower, a towel wrapped around his waist; the odd bulge in his front, white underwear, that she'd spotted in the communal bathroom. She imagined him imagining naked girls… getting erections… ejaculating. It was hard to imagine—the crux of the problem, of course—but she tried.
"I could just watch you do it."
The sentence was lodged deep inside her, held captive, but if someone had managed to escape her, would it have leaped through her throat and the barbed wire fence of her teeth before she even knew she had uttered it?
"What should we do?" Justin asked in a confused voice.
Oh God, Joey thought. What have I done? He'll think I'm a freak, a nutcase.
"Nothing. Doesn't matter."
"Do you want to watch me come?"
"Where are we going?" she asked.
He smiled. "Ejaculate. Do you want to watch me ejaculate?"
She said nothing, but she knew that her silence sounded like a yes.
“Joey,” he said, smiling warmly like the good older brother he was. “I can’t do that. We’re brother and sister. That wouldn’t be right. Besides, you know, it’s okay to be confused about something. You’re so smart, you’re used to understanding things so quickly. But you don’t have to know everything at once.”
As Joey watched Justin turn and enter his room, just down the hall from hers, she knew he was right. But she didn't care. Despite all her knowledge, despite all the things she was good at, her ignorance on this subject gnawed at her until she couldn't think straight. She had to find out.
Joey went into her room, closed the door, and looked at herself in the mirror above her vanity. Slowly, she began to undress—pulling her school polo shirt over her head, opening her skirt in the back, and letting it fall to the floor. Her reflection was that of a pretty girl—but now she might be more than that. She looked at her shapely legs, her widening hips, her flat stomach, the growing breasts beneath her A-cup bra, her white underwear that concealed the most mysterious parts of her body.
Justin gets an erection when he thinks about naked girls.
In Joey's mind, a simple plan began to take shape that would allow her to get what she wanted.
She reached behind her shoulder blades and unhooked her bra.
Justin lay on his bed, enjoying the warm afternoon breeze that blew through the open window over his bare chest. He had quickly changed, as he usually did after school, and put on an old pair of fishnet gym shorts that were a bit too small—they often rode up, exposing a good portion of his milk-white thighs, which is why he usually only wore them in his room or on the rare occasions when no one else was home. He would have taken them off by now, but he thought they'd been lucky.
He tried to read SE. Hinton's "The Outsiders" for literature class, but he was distracted. His sister—good heavens, had Joey really asked him to do that? He knew Joey, knew it wasn't lust that drove her to ask him, but a thirst for knowledge. Like a scientific experiment. But for Justin to be able to do that—to masturbate and come in front of his stepsister—it had to be sexual for him.
And what would be so wrong with that? asked the devil's advocate. They weren't actually related, but that wasn't the real issue. Justin and Joey had developed a kind of brother-sister relationship, and he'd simply never seen her that way. Two years younger than him, she'd always been this little girl who exuded absolutely no sexiness.
But that had changed, hadn't it? Hadn't she grown up? Hadn't she seemingly become only a few centimeters shorter than him overnight? Hadn't he noticed the pack of sanitary pads that had mysteriously appeared in her bathroom one day? Hadn't he caught himself staring at her suddenly cute bottom and the breasts that were now emerging from under her new bra?
If anything happened between them, Joey's mother, Melissa, would freak out, he knew that. Justin's mother had died when he was very young; and after only two years of marriage to Melissa, Justin's father had been killed in a tragic car accident. So, although Melissa wasn't his mother, she was the only parent he had left, and he couldn't afford to upset her.
Justin tried to refocus on the book, but it was no use. Despite his best efforts, his thoughts kept circling back to the idea of daring to do it in front of Joey, what it would be like, and how she would react.
Then there was a loud and insistent knock on the door.
“Yes?” Justin shouted.
His door opened, and Joey appeared, which was understandable since she was the only one in the house. He wasn't surprised to see her, but Justin was surprised by what she was wearing: a short, white terrycloth bathrobe that looked like it belonged to Melissa, and probably nothing else. Her legs were bare, and between the two sides of the robe, a triangle of peach-colored skin was visible on her chest. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail, and—what was that smell? Was she wearing perfume?
"What's wrong, Joey?"
She approached Justin until she was standing right next to his bed, right beside him. Without taking his eyes off her, he placed his book on the bed next to him and forgot to mark his spot.
"Do you remember Titanic?"
Justin's jaw dropped – he actually remembered Titanic: shortly after his father's death, Melissa had taken them all to see the James Cameron epic. A fun family evening that had briefly turned erotic during the famous "Paint me like one of your French girls" scene. Joey and Caleb giggled like crazy when Kate Winslet dropped her robe, leaving them naked except for the blue diamond around her neck. But Justin didn't find that funny at all – instead, he was fascinated by the sight of the actress's ample breasts, her rock-hard pink nipples, and the thick red hair between her legs.
Now, today, Justin knew what would happen.
But before he could do anything, Joey tugged at the sash and let the bathrobe fall.
He tried to speak—really—but what was there to say? One moment he was relaxing and reading "The Outsiders," the next he was looking at his naked stepsister. The last time he'd seen her like this was only a few months after she'd moved in. In his haste to use the bathroom, he'd burst in as Joey was getting out of the shower. The brief glimpse he'd been given had been largely unremarkable—her chest was boyish and looked like his, and the only thing he'd seen between her legs was the upper part of what appeared to be a slight indentation.
But this was different. Her body looked much more feminine now. Tanned in her face, arms, and legs, but otherwise creamy white, she had curves all over that made her look years older without clothes. Her breasts stood proudly upright from her chest, cone-shaped tufts that looked like they were about to get rounder. Her areolas were baby pink, swollen, about the size of 50-cent coins, and her nipples were erect, sticking out like two little erasers. Her stomach wasn't just flat; Justin could have sworn he could see the outline of her abs. Joey had a six-pack! Cool. Or—hot, actually.
His gaze drifted further south, below her navel, to the small indentation he'd seen before. About twenty silky hairs grew on the ample bulge between her hips, partially concealing her vulva. Her vulva. Good Lord—Justin was looking at Joey's vulva! He could have sworn he could see something more through those two flaps of skin, something warm and inviting beneath.
"Joey, what the hell are you doing?" "What?" Justin asked, eyeing her shapely legs, covered in fine down, which shone golden in the sunlight streaming through his window. He tried to sound angry, but it was an act.
"I'll let you see a naked girl," she said simply.
In his shock, he had completely forgotten their conversation from an hour ago, the same conversation he had just been thinking about, but now he was all too aware of it.
And just as he realized why she was doing this, that it was all part of a larger plan, he noticed that his penis had already swollen to a three-quarter erection and was getting harder by the minute. Noticing Joey's gaze, he realized her attention was focused on his groin, and looking down at himself, he could see that his penis was clearly visible through the tight shorts he was wearing.
"Come on, Joey, get out of here." He needed to move—cover his groin, sit up, or turn around—anything to make his erection less noticeable. But what difference would that make? He was fully erect now, and he knew Joey knew it too. Trying to hide it now was pointless.
“Please, Justin,” she wailed in a voice she had reserved for tasks from him or for choosing the movie for the evening, even when it was his turn – a voice he always yielded to.
“God,” Justin snorted, feeling his cheeks, his chest, everything turn red. “This is so weird.”
“But you have an erection,” Joey said, making no secret of the fact that she was looking at the object. “That means you’re going to ejaculate now.”
"Well, I don't have to."
"But?"
"I mean, yes, I guess you could say I really want to."
"So..." Joey held out her hands as if to say, "Come on."
“But if you are here –”
"I can stand behind you if you want."
“Yeah, I don’t think this is going to do any good,” Justin exhaled heavily. Half an hour ago, he would have thought this was a zero percent chance. But now, with his naked, surprisingly sexy stepsister and his rock-hard cock threatening to tear a hole in his shorts, he was starting to see it as inevitable. Not only did he like the idea, but he also longed to come in front of Joey, to see her pretty eyes watching as the creamy white semen spurted from his cock and splashed onto his stomach, just like he did most mornings and evenings, imagining the scenario that awaited him.
But it was Joey, his stepsister. If Melissa had known she would freak out –
Justin's thoughts were interrupted when he noticed Joey enlarge her posture, the strange slit between her legs opening and revealing some of the pink flesh hidden within.
"Screw it," he said abruptly, pulling his shorts over his muscular legs.
“Really!?” “Yes!” exclaimed Joey, opening his eyes in surprise.
Justin threw his shorts on the ground.
"Seriously. Don't tell anyone. Never. Got it?"
Joey nodded enthusiastically. "I promise. I swear."
Her gaze fell again between his legs, and Justin looked there too, a sight he was used to – his erection trapped in his white jockey briefs. His penis was so hard and his underwear so tight that he knew Joey could now see many private details of his body – for example, that his left testicle hung lower than his right, that when erect his penis pointed slightly towards his right hip, and that he was circumcised, the white cotton clinging tightly to his swollen glans.
Justin grabbed the waistband of his underwear and began to slowly pull it down, giving Joey a chance to change her mind. But when his thick, honey-colored pubic area sprang out from under the waistband and she didn't protest, Justin knew it was really going to happen.
He pulled the waistband of his underwear further down, exposing more and more of his body – more and more of his penis – until the waistband released the glans and his bulging erection sprang back, audibly slapping against his tense stomach.
“Justin…”, his sister whispered almost inaudibly.
Justin pulled his underwear down to mid-thigh and left it there, watching Joey's awestruck face as he took in his package. It was about 5 inches long, the shaft of average thickness, the tip—pale pink when flaccid, but cherry-red when erect—only slightly wider than the shaft, creating a mushroom effect. His testicles—well, whenever he looked at himself in the mirror (which he did often), Justin always found them large. Heavy and full. His scrotum, like most of his body, was hairless. His pubic hair was sparse but dense, right at the base of his penis.
The rest of his body was smooth and toned. Justin was an ambitious hockey player and had started weight training a few years ago. Although he wasn't particularly bulky, his body was beginning to bulge in all the right places. Justin was hot—he knew it, and everyone knew it too.
Like Joey, whose mouth was open, her eyes fixed on her brother's package.
"Have you already ejaculated?" she asked, staring at the wet tip.
“No,” he said, taking a sample of the clear, slippery fluid that had collected at the end of his urethra between his thumb and forefinger. He demonstratively pulled his thumb and forefinger apart, so that the mucus spread into a thin thread. “That’s pre-ejaculate. It’s supposed to make my penis slippery.”
"Why?"
"So that he –" He looked down between her legs, "– can penetrate you."
Justin gasped – he couldn't believe what he'd just said. He hadn't meant it so explicitly, but the implication was obvious, and for a moment he was afraid he'd gone too far.
But Joey seemed unimpressed by his remark; her attention remained focused on his plump penis and powerful testicles, which were beginning to ache in anticipation of release.
So he slid across the bed, pointed to the empty space, and told Joey to sit down, which she did. When she turned around, he saw her sweet bottom, white as a cappuccino, the perfect round shape emerging from her lower back. As she sat down, the bare skin of her hip brushed against the bare skin of his thigh, and in response, his penis grew harder and harder against all odds.
“Are you ready?” Justin asked in a low, hoarse voice, still full of fear of this strange situation, but also desperate for release, for the chance to touch himself and ejaculate his semen over himself in front of his not-so-little sister.
She nodded dutifully. "Ready."
Justin reached down and took his penis in his hand, feeling its girth, feeling the veins that pulsed so intensely with every movement, feeling the thick, spongy tip. He sighed; his nervous system was finally getting what it craved. With his thumb, he spread his pre-ejaculate around the tip until it was slippery, and then he began to stroke it slowly—very slowly.
Although he enjoyed watching himself masturbate, it felt silly not to look at Joey while he played with himself. Her sitting position placed her in profile to him—he could see her young, budding breasts from the side, the delicious curve of her bottom against his mattress, her shapely legs dangling over the edge. But it was her expression that turned him on most. Yes, he realized she still treated it all partly like a school assignment, like a National Geographic video about an endangered species in Papua New Guinea that she had to write a short essay about. But there was something else in those large, brown eyes, something he'd never seen in her before.
Lust.
His right hand slid up and down his penis, faster, more pre-cum dripping out. He'd only been at it for about a minute, but he knew he was close. Part of him wanted to prolong it as long as possible, because who knew if or when it would ever happen again, but the other part desperately longed for his orgasm, begged for release, needed it—
"Are you about to ejaculate?" Joey asked, watching as his hand moved his penis up and down, circling the smooth tip.
"Come on," Justin said between heavy breaths.
"Huh?"
“‘Can you come for a minute?’ Say it.”
“Justin,” she said with a demure smile. “Are you about to come?”
He grinned back. "Yes, Joey. I'll be right there for you."
His hand stroked him faster and faster, the sound of skin on skin almost obscene. He felt his testicles rise, invisible muscles deep in his abdomen tense, that almost weightless sensation you feel on a roller coaster at the top of a hill. He tried to hold back as best he could, knowing that any delay would intensify his orgasm and make his semen shoot out even further.
He had just successfully delayed his climax when his sister did something strange – apparently to get a better view, she turned around on the bed so that she was no longer in profile but directly in front of Justin. She crossed her legs so that she was sitting in the Indian style, and the small pink flower that was her vulva unfolded and opened, the delicate tissue glistening with fluid.
"Oh, shit!" Justin cried, feeling his orgasm overwhelm him and take control. His buttocks lifted off the bed, his legs stiffened, and his penis swelled, the tip turning dark red, almost purple. His first spurt of semen fired like a bullet, shooting high into the air and landing on his smooth chin. His face contorted as the pleasurable sensations reached their peak, and a second surge of semen landed in his throat. He squeezed the top half of his penis as more semen spurted out, covering his firm chest and trembling belly. His buttocks tightened, and he thrust his groin into the air to keep the semen spraying, further coating his body with his creamy essence.
The sensation gradually subsided, and Justin let his bottom—now covered with a thin film of sweat—fall back onto the bed. He realized how heavily he had been breathing, as if he had just finished a sprint drill in hockey practice. He shuddered as his fingers lightly touched the tip. His body was now hypersensitive, trying to return to its normal state.
He looked down at his chest – he was absolutely certain he'd never come so much before. His semen was everywhere, covering his entire body, and he could feel the few drops of it on his face.
Joey's face was contorted with shock and surprise. He couldn't tell what she was feeling – her expression was unusually indistinct.
"Is everything alright?" he asked.
She said nothing, just nodded.
"What do you think?"
Almost as if she had just realized she was there, she looked down at herself, noticed that her pussy was wide open, and slowly slid a finger inside. Touched herself.
He touched her vagina.
Then she looked up at her brother again, her eyes wide open, her skin reddened, and her expression absent.
And then she asked:
"Can you do that again?"
Joey Harris was one of the brightest students in her class. But Joey Harris didn't understand one thing, and it drove her crazy.
School had always come easily to her, which made the situation so frustrating. No matter the subject—math, science, literature, social studies, even art and music—Joey was a star. But what she had learned today… well, it didn't make any sense to her. It just didn't seem… right.
She sighed, leaned back in her green faux-leather bus seat, and brushed her chestnut-brown hair out of her hazel eyes. Joey had long legs and was in great shape thanks to playing hockey year-round. When she looked in the mirror, she knew she was pretty without makeup, like her mother, thanks to her large, doe-like eyes, perfectly proportioned nose, and full lips. Dimples appeared when she smiled—which was often, except now.
The bus slowed to a stop to reach the penultimate stop – her house was the final stop – and as she watched the Richardson twins get off, the familiar scent of cool cologne water fell onto the seat next to her.
"What's up, sister?" her brother asked casually.
Justin O'Connor wasn't really Joey's brother. Four years ago, Joey's mother married Justin's father, and they all—including Joey's little brother Caleb—moved into a renovated farmhouse in the middle of nowhere.
“Hello,” Joey said softly, her gaze fixed on her bare knees, which peeked out from under her anthracite pleated skirt.
"Wow," Justin replied. "What's wrong with you?"
She shrugged without looking at him. "Who said something was wrong?"
“Hi,” he repeated mockingly, sounding like a cross between Dumbo and Eeyore. “You’re not as lively as usual.”
She shrugged. "Stupid day today."
"How come?"
“I’m having a hard time,” she said contemptuously. “I didn’t understand something in class, and now I won’t be able to finish school, I’ll never go to college, and I’ll die somewhere an old maid, completely unloved and never remembered.”
Justin laughed and playfully nudged her in the side with his elbow. "My goodness, you're such a dork. I bet I know what you didn't understand."
“Yeah, ri-”
"Health education. Yes?"
Joey froze, held her breath, and felt her heart stop for a moment.
"How did you know that?"
"A guy from your class on the hockey team. Come on, Joey." She felt his elbow dig lightly into her ribs. "Can you tell me where babies come from?"
"Stop it," she said in a tense voice.
"Wow. Something's not right, is it?"
"I don't want to talk about it."
"Are you sure? Maybe you'll feel better if you get it off your chest."
Joey finally turned around and looked at her brother. His handsome Irish face met his gaze, freckles covering his forehead and cheekbones, blue eyes glittering in the sunlight streaming through the windows, full pink lips curled into a perpetual grin.
Justin was the kind of person who was good at everything he did. Maybe not as educated as Joey, but smart enough and then some. He was good at sports, especially hockey; good at music, especially the saxophone. Everyone loved him—whether because of his incredibly friendly nature or his boyish looks, Joey couldn't quite say.
“You’re going to laugh at me,” Joey replied desperately.
“No, I won’t,” he replied, and she saw his face turn serious—wrinkles formed on his forehead, his eyes narrowed, and his infectious smile faded. “I understand—it’s uncomfortable and can be confusing.”
Joey took a deep breath – she felt her ears turn red. This was beyond embarrassing.
But she looked at Justin, who was ready to listen to what she had to say. They had grown close—especially in recent years. They had a lot in common—they were about the same age and had both experienced the death of a parent. Of all the people she could tell, if the possibilities were endless, she would choose Justin.
"It's about... the penis."
„Okay.“
Joey braced herself for a joke – when it became clear that no one was coming, she continued:
"Okay. The thing about sperm and egg. I've always known that. But I don't think I knew how it happened."
"Like the penis penetrating the vagina?" Justin asked. His trembling voice sounded as if he himself were nervous about talking about it, which actually reassured Joey.
"No. Well, sort of. Yes, in a way."
„Okay. Also, was?“
She took a deep breath.
"Okay. Actually, there are two things."
Justin watched expectantly.
"It's the erection. And the ejaculation."
The bus brakes squealed, and Joey felt the deceleration as the bus stop approached. When the bus came to a halt, they both stood up, wearing white polo shirts with blue and gold trim, and got off. Justin led the way, and because he was lying right in front of him, Joey couldn't help but notice how cute Justin's butt looked in his gray pants.
Eww, what? That was her brother.
After all, yes. Stepbrother.
"Okay, erection and ejaculation. What exactly is that?" Justin asked as the bus started moving and the rumble of the diesel engine faded away on the horizon.
"It's just... how does that happen?" Joey asked, annoyed, her voice rising, her words tumbling together like Jenga blocks. "Like it just... gets hard and sticks out? Seems uncomfortable. How hard does it get? And the ejaculation—I thought that happened more on a microscopic level. But it sounds... chaotic."
"Okay, okay. First of all – yes, ejaculations are definitely messy."
She frowned in modest surprise. "Have you ever had one before?"
Justin stammered, "So, I mean, I—yeah, Joey. Most guys—most guys my age have that." Joey noticed his pale skin turning pink. "How hard does it get? I don't know… really hard? Feels like bones, even though they aren't. That's why some people call them boners."
Joey felt something strange stirring in her stomach. Talking to her stepbrother like this, learning things about him that few—maybe no one—knew, felt intimate, and she found it exciting to know that he was obviously confiding all this personal information in her.
"Okay. Erection." She tried the word as if she were trying a new food for the first time. "How does that happen? Can you control it? Can you just make it happen?"
They reached the front of their house, a turn-of-the-century home whose weathered appearance concealed the modern upgrades and renovations inside.
"Uh, sort of," said Justin, unlocking the front door with his key. "Sometimes it happens by itself. But I can make it happen if I want to."
"How?"
"Well... by thinking about things I like."
"I like?"
Justin's face turned even darker.
"Girls. Naked girls, mostly."
Joey was all flustered. Justin was thinking about naked girls? And when he did, he got an erection? It was hard to imagine Justin doing that—Justin, the straight-A student, Justin, the hockey star, Justin, the saxophone soloist. But he did. He told her. He confided in her.
"Does this help in any way?" he asked, as he placed his bags in the open foyer in front of her house.
"Yes. In a way, yes."
"Sort of?"
"I wish I could... you know... see it?"
"See it?" he squealed, his eyes widening.
"Yes, the illustrations in the book looked confusing. I mean, the vagina in there didn't look like a real one at all—"
"Mhm," Justin said, grinning, when she suddenly stopped. "Go ahead."
"You know what I mean. If I could see the whole process, it would make more sense to me. Like... like watching someone cook instead of just reading a recipe."
"Well, I don't know what to tell you, sis. There are porn films, but I don't know how to get my hands on them."
Joey grunted in frustration. He was right—there was no way to actually see all of this. (Years later, as the internet grew, she would wish it had existed when she was growing up.) Right now, what she wanted was essentially impossible.
Na ja. Fast.
There it was, right in front of her—his 5'5" and 110 lbs. It was something she hadn't even considered before, but their conversation had excited her, encouraged her, and made her brave. She looked into Justin's face and thought about the other boys at her school, how they compared to him. Her friends had made comments about Justin before—it was no secret that more than a few of them had crushes on her stepbrother. She'd never really thought about it, but now, during this intimate conversation, Joey was beginning to see the truth: Justin wasn't just handsome, he wasn't just cute.
Justin was hot.
And as they climbed the main staircase to the second floor, her thoughts wandered to strange, crazy places. Places she'd never been. The times she'd seen Justin's taut torso recently, shirtless, coming out of the shower, a towel wrapped around his waist; the odd bulge in his front, white underwear, that she'd spotted in the communal bathroom. She imagined him imagining naked girls… getting erections… ejaculating. It was hard to imagine—the crux of the problem, of course—but she tried.
"I could just watch you do it."
The sentence was lodged deep inside her, held captive, but if someone had managed to escape her, would it have leaped through her throat and the barbed wire fence of her teeth before she even knew she had uttered it?
"What should we do?" Justin asked in a confused voice.
Oh God, Joey thought. What have I done? He'll think I'm a freak, a nutcase.
"Nothing. Doesn't matter."
"Do you want to watch me come?"
"Where are we going?" she asked.
He smiled. "Ejaculate. Do you want to watch me ejaculate?"
She said nothing, but she knew that her silence sounded like a yes.
“Joey,” he said, smiling warmly like the good older brother he was. “I can’t do that. We’re brother and sister. That wouldn’t be right. Besides, you know, it’s okay to be confused about something. You’re so smart, you’re used to understanding things so quickly. But you don’t have to know everything at once.”
As Joey watched Justin turn and enter his room, just down the hall from hers, she knew he was right. But she didn't care. Despite all her knowledge, despite all the things she was good at, her ignorance on this subject gnawed at her until she couldn't think straight. She had to find out.
Joey went into her room, closed the door, and looked at herself in the mirror above her vanity. Slowly, she began to undress—pulling her school polo shirt over her head, opening her skirt in the back, and letting it fall to the floor. Her reflection was that of a pretty girl—but now she might be more than that. She looked at her shapely legs, her widening hips, her flat stomach, the growing breasts beneath her A-cup bra, her white underwear that concealed the most mysterious parts of her body.
Justin gets an erection when he thinks about naked girls.
In Joey's mind, a simple plan began to take shape that would allow her to get what she wanted.
She reached behind her shoulder blades and unhooked her bra.
Justin lay on his bed, enjoying the warm afternoon breeze that blew through the open window over his bare chest. He had quickly changed, as he usually did after school, and put on an old pair of fishnet gym shorts that were a bit too small—they often rode up, exposing a good portion of his milk-white thighs, which is why he usually only wore them in his room or on the rare occasions when no one else was home. He would have taken them off by now, but he thought they'd been lucky.
He tried to read SE. Hinton's "The Outsiders" for literature class, but he was distracted. His sister—good heavens, had Joey really asked him to do that? He knew Joey, knew it wasn't lust that drove her to ask him, but a thirst for knowledge. Like a scientific experiment. But for Justin to be able to do that—to masturbate and come in front of his stepsister—it had to be sexual for him.
And what would be so wrong with that? asked the devil's advocate. They weren't actually related, but that wasn't the real issue. Justin and Joey had developed a kind of brother-sister relationship, and he'd simply never seen her that way. Two years younger than him, she'd always been this little girl who exuded absolutely no sexiness.
But that had changed, hadn't it? Hadn't she grown up? Hadn't she seemingly become only a few centimeters shorter than him overnight? Hadn't he noticed the pack of sanitary pads that had mysteriously appeared in her bathroom one day? Hadn't he caught himself staring at her suddenly cute bottom and the breasts that were now emerging from under her new bra?
If anything happened between them, Joey's mother, Melissa, would freak out, he knew that. Justin's mother had died when he was very young; and after only two years of marriage to Melissa, Justin's father had been killed in a tragic car accident. So, although Melissa wasn't his mother, she was the only parent he had left, and he couldn't afford to upset her.
Justin tried to refocus on the book, but it was no use. Despite his best efforts, his thoughts kept circling back to the idea of daring to do it in front of Joey, what it would be like, and how she would react.
Then there was a loud and insistent knock on the door.
“Yes?” Justin shouted.
His door opened, and Joey appeared, which was understandable since she was the only one in the house. He wasn't surprised to see her, but Justin was surprised by what she was wearing: a short, white terrycloth bathrobe that looked like it belonged to Melissa, and probably nothing else. Her legs were bare, and between the two sides of the robe, a triangle of peach-colored skin was visible on her chest. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail, and—what was that smell? Was she wearing perfume?
"What's wrong, Joey?"
She approached Justin until she was standing right next to his bed, right beside him. Without taking his eyes off her, he placed his book on the bed next to him and forgot to mark his spot.
"Do you remember Titanic?"
Justin's jaw dropped – he actually remembered Titanic: shortly after his father's death, Melissa had taken them all to see the James Cameron epic. A fun family evening that had briefly turned erotic during the famous "Paint me like one of your French girls" scene. Joey and Caleb giggled like crazy when Kate Winslet dropped her robe, leaving them naked except for the blue diamond around her neck. But Justin didn't find that funny at all – instead, he was fascinated by the sight of the actress's ample breasts, her rock-hard pink nipples, and the thick red hair between her legs.
Now, today, Justin knew what would happen.
But before he could do anything, Joey tugged at the sash and let the bathrobe fall.
He tried to speak—really—but what was there to say? One moment he was relaxing and reading "The Outsiders," the next he was looking at his naked stepsister. The last time he'd seen her like this was only a few months after she'd moved in. In his haste to use the bathroom, he'd burst in as Joey was getting out of the shower. The brief glimpse he'd been given had been largely unremarkable—her chest was boyish and looked like his, and the only thing he'd seen between her legs was the upper part of what appeared to be a slight indentation.
But this was different. Her body looked much more feminine now. Tanned in her face, arms, and legs, but otherwise creamy white, she had curves all over that made her look years older without clothes. Her breasts stood proudly upright from her chest, cone-shaped tufts that looked like they were about to get rounder. Her areolas were baby pink, swollen, about the size of 50-cent coins, and her nipples were erect, sticking out like two little erasers. Her stomach wasn't just flat; Justin could have sworn he could see the outline of her abs. Joey had a six-pack! Cool. Or—hot, actually.
His gaze drifted further south, below her navel, to the small indentation he'd seen before. About twenty silky hairs grew on the ample bulge between her hips, partially concealing her vulva. Her vulva. Good Lord—Justin was looking at Joey's vulva! He could have sworn he could see something more through those two flaps of skin, something warm and inviting beneath.
"Joey, what the hell are you doing?" "What?" Justin asked, eyeing her shapely legs, covered in fine down, which shone golden in the sunlight streaming through his window. He tried to sound angry, but it was an act.
"I'll let you see a naked girl," she said simply.
In his shock, he had completely forgotten their conversation from an hour ago, the same conversation he had just been thinking about, but now he was all too aware of it.
And just as he realized why she was doing this, that it was all part of a larger plan, he noticed that his penis had already swollen to a three-quarter erection and was getting harder by the minute. Noticing Joey's gaze, he realized her attention was focused on his groin, and looking down at himself, he could see that his penis was clearly visible through the tight shorts he was wearing.
"Come on, Joey, get out of here." He needed to move—cover his groin, sit up, or turn around—anything to make his erection less noticeable. But what difference would that make? He was fully erect now, and he knew Joey knew it too. Trying to hide it now was pointless.
“Please, Justin,” she wailed in a voice she had reserved for tasks from him or for choosing the movie for the evening, even when it was his turn – a voice he always yielded to.
“God,” Justin snorted, feeling his cheeks, his chest, everything turn red. “This is so weird.”
“But you have an erection,” Joey said, making no secret of the fact that she was looking at the object. “That means you’re going to ejaculate now.”
"Well, I don't have to."
"But?"
"I mean, yes, I guess you could say I really want to."
"So..." Joey held out her hands as if to say, "Come on."
“But if you are here –”
"I can stand behind you if you want."
“Yeah, I don’t think this is going to do any good,” Justin exhaled heavily. Half an hour ago, he would have thought this was a zero percent chance. But now, with his naked, surprisingly sexy stepsister and his rock-hard cock threatening to tear a hole in his shorts, he was starting to see it as inevitable. Not only did he like the idea, but he also longed to come in front of Joey, to see her pretty eyes watching as the creamy white semen spurted from his cock and splashed onto his stomach, just like he did most mornings and evenings, imagining the scenario that awaited him.
But it was Joey, his stepsister. If Melissa had known she would freak out –
Justin's thoughts were interrupted when he noticed Joey enlarge her posture, the strange slit between her legs opening and revealing some of the pink flesh hidden within.
"Screw it," he said abruptly, pulling his shorts over his muscular legs.
“Really!?” “Yes!” exclaimed Joey, opening his eyes in surprise.
Justin threw his shorts on the ground.
"Seriously. Don't tell anyone. Never. Got it?"
Joey nodded enthusiastically. "I promise. I swear."
Her gaze fell again between his legs, and Justin looked there too, a sight he was used to – his erection trapped in his white jockey briefs. His penis was so hard and his underwear so tight that he knew Joey could now see many private details of his body – for example, that his left testicle hung lower than his right, that when erect his penis pointed slightly towards his right hip, and that he was circumcised, the white cotton clinging tightly to his swollen glans.
Justin grabbed the waistband of his underwear and began to slowly pull it down, giving Joey a chance to change her mind. But when his thick, honey-colored pubic area sprang out from under the waistband and she didn't protest, Justin knew it was really going to happen.
He pulled the waistband of his underwear further down, exposing more and more of his body – more and more of his penis – until the waistband released the glans and his bulging erection sprang back, audibly slapping against his tense stomach.
“Justin…”, his sister whispered almost inaudibly.
Justin pulled his underwear down to mid-thigh and left it there, watching Joey's awestruck face as he took in his package. It was about 5 inches long, the shaft of average thickness, the tip—pale pink when flaccid, but cherry-red when erect—only slightly wider than the shaft, creating a mushroom effect. His testicles—well, whenever he looked at himself in the mirror (which he did often), Justin always found them large. Heavy and full. His scrotum, like most of his body, was hairless. His pubic hair was sparse but dense, right at the base of his penis.
The rest of his body was smooth and toned. Justin was an ambitious hockey player and had started weight training a few years ago. Although he wasn't particularly bulky, his body was beginning to bulge in all the right places. Justin was hot—he knew it, and everyone knew it too.
Like Joey, whose mouth was open, her eyes fixed on her brother's package.
"Have you already ejaculated?" she asked, staring at the wet tip.
“No,” he said, taking a sample of the clear, slippery fluid that had collected at the end of his urethra between his thumb and forefinger. He demonstratively pulled his thumb and forefinger apart, so that the mucus spread into a thin thread. “That’s pre-ejaculate. It’s supposed to make my penis slippery.”
"Why?"
"So that he –" He looked down between her legs, "– can penetrate you."
Justin gasped – he couldn't believe what he'd just said. He hadn't meant it so explicitly, but the implication was obvious, and for a moment he was afraid he'd gone too far.
But Joey seemed unimpressed by his remark; her attention remained focused on his plump penis and powerful testicles, which were beginning to ache in anticipation of release.
So he slid across the bed, pointed to the empty space, and told Joey to sit down, which she did. When she turned around, he saw her sweet bottom, white as a cappuccino, the perfect round shape emerging from her lower back. As she sat down, the bare skin of her hip brushed against the bare skin of his thigh, and in response, his penis grew harder and harder against all odds.
“Are you ready?” Justin asked in a low, hoarse voice, still full of fear of this strange situation, but also desperate for release, for the chance to touch himself and ejaculate his semen over himself in front of his not-so-little sister.
She nodded dutifully. "Ready."
Justin reached down and took his penis in his hand, feeling its girth, feeling the veins that pulsed so intensely with every movement, feeling the thick, spongy tip. He sighed; his nervous system was finally getting what it craved. With his thumb, he spread his pre-ejaculate around the tip until it was slippery, and then he began to stroke it slowly—very slowly.
Although he enjoyed watching himself masturbate, it felt silly not to look at Joey while he played with himself. Her sitting position placed her in profile to him—he could see her young, budding breasts from the side, the delicious curve of her bottom against his mattress, her shapely legs dangling over the edge. But it was her expression that turned him on most. Yes, he realized she still treated it all partly like a school assignment, like a National Geographic video about an endangered species in Papua New Guinea that she had to write a short essay about. But there was something else in those large, brown eyes, something he'd never seen in her before.
Lust.
His right hand slid up and down his penis, faster, more pre-cum dripping out. He'd only been at it for about a minute, but he knew he was close. Part of him wanted to prolong it as long as possible, because who knew if or when it would ever happen again, but the other part desperately longed for his orgasm, begged for release, needed it—
"Are you about to ejaculate?" Joey asked, watching as his hand moved his penis up and down, circling the smooth tip.
"Come on," Justin said between heavy breaths.
"Huh?"
“‘Can you come for a minute?’ Say it.”
“Justin,” she said with a demure smile. “Are you about to come?”
He grinned back. "Yes, Joey. I'll be right there for you."
His hand stroked him faster and faster, the sound of skin on skin almost obscene. He felt his testicles rise, invisible muscles deep in his abdomen tense, that almost weightless sensation you feel on a roller coaster at the top of a hill. He tried to hold back as best he could, knowing that any delay would intensify his orgasm and make his semen shoot out even further.
He had just successfully delayed his climax when his sister did something strange – apparently to get a better view, she turned around on the bed so that she was no longer in profile but directly in front of Justin. She crossed her legs so that she was sitting in the Indian style, and the small pink flower that was her vulva unfolded and opened, the delicate tissue glistening with fluid.
"Oh, shit!" Justin cried, feeling his orgasm overwhelm him and take control. His buttocks lifted off the bed, his legs stiffened, and his penis swelled, the tip turning dark red, almost purple. His first spurt of semen fired like a bullet, shooting high into the air and landing on his smooth chin. His face contorted as the pleasurable sensations reached their peak, and a second surge of semen landed in his throat. He squeezed the top half of his penis as more semen spurted out, covering his firm chest and trembling belly. His buttocks tightened, and he thrust his groin into the air to keep the semen spraying, further coating his body with his creamy essence.
The sensation gradually subsided, and Justin let his bottom—now covered with a thin film of sweat—fall back onto the bed. He realized how heavily he had been breathing, as if he had just finished a sprint drill in hockey practice. He shuddered as his fingers lightly touched the tip. His body was now hypersensitive, trying to return to its normal state.
He looked down at his chest – he was absolutely certain he'd never come so much before. His semen was everywhere, covering his entire body, and he could feel the few drops of it on his face.
Joey's face was contorted with shock and surprise. He couldn't tell what she was feeling – her expression was unusually indistinct.
"Is everything alright?" he asked.
She said nothing, just nodded.
"What do you think?"
Almost as if she had just realized she was there, she looked down at herself, noticed that her pussy was wide open, and slowly slid a finger inside. Touched herself.
He touched her vagina.
Then she looked up at her brother again, her eyes wide open, her skin reddened, and her expression absent.
And then she asked:
"Can you do that again?"