9:30am, I was in bed contemplating on getting up and seeing to my grandmother, but I was feeling a bit heavy around the bottom of my tummy. It was usually a sign my period was due, so thoughts of being impregnated were more in the realms of extreme hope than expectation, which was further bolstered by the fact I had been spotting. My period usually started to rain heavy from the Tuesday, but I was aware my menstrual cycle may have been compromised by not taking the pill, so I wore knickers under my t-shirt nightie just in case.

I heard someone trying the front door, but it was locked. I glanced out of the window and saw it was my brother Paul. I darted downstairs and opened the door. Paul had cut his hand on a baked bean can and wanted to know if I had any plasters. I knew I had some somewhere in the kitchen, but where was anyone's guess. Paul sat on the edge of the sofa in the sitting room, whilst I rummaged through the rickety kitchen drawers and cupboard. I found a strip of plasters and then took a while to find some scissors. I returned to the sitting room with a damp cloth, which I used to clean Paul's small wound, and applied the plaster. Touching his hand made me horny. I asked him to sit back and in a moment of madness I peeled off my nightie. Paul looked like a rabbit caught in the headlights. In for a penny, in for a pound, I thought, and I pulled down my knickers. My eagerness to show off my pre-pubescent looking pussy made me momentarily forget about my spotting. I glanced, discreetly, at my knickers, and sure enough saw smidgens of bloodstains on the gusset. I screwed them up in my hand hoping Paul didn't have the chance to notice, but Paul was far too mesmerised with my little unadorned bird. "Have you shaved it?" he asked, "...it looks weird" ... "It was like that when you tried to touch it before". Paul looked questionably at me, "What are you talking about?" ... "That time you tried to force your hand inside my knickers", I replied. Paul smiled, "I was only about ten" ... "Thirteen more like". I knelt in front of him and forced myself between his legs. "What are you doing?" ... "What do you think?". I dropped my knickers onto the carpet and reached out to unfasten his belt. "What if someone comes in", he said nervously. "No one comes around at this time on a Sunday" ... "I did", he replied. "Only because you wanted a plaster" ... "We shouldn't be doing this anyway, you're my sister, it's so wrong". I looked up at his frightened little face, "You don't know what I am going to do yet". I was also nervous, in fact I was positively petrified, but I didn't want to show it. I unbuttoned his trousers and pulled down his zip. I put my hand inside the waistband of his jeans and tried to pull them down, but he intentionally made it hard for me. I glanced up at him, "Are you going to stop messing about?", I said to him in an annoying voice. "You still haven't told me what you're going to do". I tried again to pull down his jeans. This time he lifted his posterior from the cushion. I yanked them right down and slipped his right trouser leg over his shoe. He was wearing dark green briefs and I could see he already had a semi erection. I played with him through his briefs, not that I classed it as foreplay, more that I wanted to tease myself and relish the moment before I finally saw it. His cock became rock hard in no time at all. I was astounded by how big it seemed to be. For some strange reason I expected Paul to have a small cock but there it was, like a python pressing hard against the cotton, and precum seeping through the material. My heart was racing, and I could feel blood rushing to my head. I tormented myself for long enough, and like an excited child opening a present, I tore down his briefs to reveal the most gorgeous thing I had ever seen in my life. It was love at first sight, eight inches of pure joy. I leaned over and put my lips over the silky dome and slowly ran both hands up and down the marvellous pole. Within only a few seconds his pelvis started to twitch. I recognised the signs but figured it was way too soon for him to cum, I had barely started. How wrong could I be and talk about a monster cumblast. The way it exploded into my mouth was incredible. I was literally choking as I tried to swallow. I moved away slightly to ingest what was already in my mouth, but it kept on coming, splattering on my face. He was cumming faster than I could swallow so by the time he finished my face resembled melted cheese on the top of a pizza. I glanced up at Paul, cum literally dripping from my face, "Thanks for that", I said smiling. Then wanting to shock Paul, I began to scoop the cum into my mouth. Paul screwed up his face, "Why are you doing that, it's disgusting?". Of course, him saying that inspired me to do it even more, and there was a lot to go at. I gathered it up from my little tits and made a show of sucking it off each finger whilst looking at him. It was more than he could bear, and he pushed my elbows off his knees. "You're just sick", he squirmed. "Just let me finish off", I pleaded. Curiosity got the better of him and he sat back. I glanced at him one last time before licking and slurping the drabs of cum from his oily cock. When I finished, I grabbed the cloth I had used to wipe away the blood from his hand and wiped my face and chest. Paul beamed down on me, "Where did you learn to do all that?". I looked at him and smiled, "That would be telling?". Paul accepted that and reached down for his clothes. Very little else was said before he left.

Middies in the afternoon was a strange one, sitting so close to Paul knowing my face was covered in his love cream only a couple of hours ago.

Mary and Ann often prepared Sunday dinner and mum would cook it when she arrived back home. This usually meant dinner would be around 3:30pm, which left me an hour or so to check on my grandmother and have a nap. I was usually ready for a nap. Middies was only open for two hours on a Sunday, 12pm to 2pm and so it was a case of packing in the booze. Five or six half pints of lager in two hours was enough to make me feel sleepy, and merry of course, and it was the latter that played a huge part in what happened next.

I had arrived home from the club and seeing to my grandmother when someone entered the house. If they wanted me, then they would usually head to the back room first before disturbing my grandmother in the front room. I went to see who it was and surprised to see it was Paul. Even though he only lived across, and further down the street, he rarely came to visit...unless he wanted something like a plaster. He probably had about four or five pints that afternoon, so like me was a little tipsy. He hung around my grandmother's door whilst I explained to my grandmother that dinner wouldn't be long. I shut the door and looked at Paul. He smiled at me, "I thought you'd might like a bit of company". Wow, that was unexpected! Without hesitation I moved to kiss him, and we became entwined in a passionate snog. I could clearly tell he was very inexperienced by the way he pursed his lips, but his technique wasn't as aggressive as Neville's. He lifted my skirt, put his hand in my knickers and grabbed my crotch, sinking his fingers deep into my hole. I wanted to stop him because I was spotting, and also, I had pre-menstrual bloating in that part of my anatomy, but how could I possibly stop him when it felt so good? Unfortunately, at that particular time I hated the thought of him seeing blotches of my monthly ketchup on his fingers and feared it might put him off. I moved away his hand and led him into the sitting room. Like we did in the morning, I sat him down and relieved him of his briefs and jeans. His cock was limp, but it was beautiful and irresistible. I reached out and started to stroke it gently and then put my hand around his shaft and drew his foreskin back and forth over the purple head. I leaned over and swathed my lips around his cock. Its flaccidity enabled me to slip my tongue between the loose foreskin and circle my tongue around his Jap's eye. I then glided my teeth over the foreskin where his cock ended and gently bit, causing the dome to flick away. I repeated this until his cock became harder and the foreskin started to stretch around the purple helmet until it protruded like a tortoise's head. From there on all I could think about was how much I wanted it inside of me. I was unable to withstand the enormous desire any longer. I got to my feet, pulled down my knickers, and straddled his thighs. I used my hand to guide his gorgeous pole into my ravenous pussy and gently lowered myself down. To feel it inside of me was beyond incredible and I could have literally remained in that position for eternity. I started to lift myself up and down over his dominant beast, "Does it feel so wrong now?" I asked Paul. He put his hands under my top and soon discovered that the best way to get to my tits was to lift my bra over the little sprouts. He smiled, "I still want to know where you learnt all this" ... "I want to know when you got so big", I replied. Paul laughed, "I'm not, I'm only five foot five", he joked, "...Do you think I am big?" ... "Yeah", I enthusiastically answered. I began to figure eight my hips, savouring every moment. "Is that nice?" I asked him. "What would you do if I said no?" ... "I'd say hard luck because I am not getting off you". I closed my eyes and found myself in the centre of my happy universe, but with only Paul for company. I rested my hands on his shoulders and pushed hard down onto his thighs and tormented my clitoris and g-spot against his pleasure tool. At the same time, he squeezed hard on my tits and nipped and tugged on my nipples. Bizarrely the pain he was inflicting on my nipples, in company with the pleasure I was getting from rubbing my pussy against his cock, really did it for me. I absolutely hated pain, but this just worked for me. "Nip them harder", I implored. "Are you sure?", Paul said with a huge grin on his face. "Yeah", I replied. I unleashed the sadist in Paul. He gripped my nipples with fierce intensity between his finger and thumbs, tugged at them, and let them go with a flick. The pain was unbearable and each time he did it I braced myself and tried to offset the torture by grinding my pussy against his cock for maximum stimulation. I was heaving and groaning due to both pain and pleasure until suddenly my body convulsed as my pussy sent shockwaves through my entire body. It was impossible to show any kind of dignity, especially as Paul still had my nipples tightly between his fingers and thumbs. I squealed like a rat caught in a trap and persevered the nipple torture until my orgasm subsided. "Ouch, you can let go now", I begged brushing his hand away. I lifted my top and inspected my nipples, which were cherry red and misshapen "You really hurt me", I complained through heavy breaths. "You told me to pinch them harder", retorted Paul. The pain was exceptionally severe, causing me to cringe when I put my little tits back under my bra.

I was aware Paul was yet to cum, but I was in both post climax lethargy mode and alcohol induced sleeppy mode. Adding to this my clitoris was always hypersensitive after an orgasm. I needed time to recover, so I looked at Paul and asked him if he wanted to go to bed, saying it's far better in there. He somewhat reluctantly agreed and followed me upstairs. I laid on the bed, lifted my knees and hitched up my skirt. I felt like a cheap prostitute opening her legs for a gin and tonic. "What are you waiting for?", I said him. Paul took the hint and climbed between my legs, but his cock had since flagged, and he couldn't get it in me. I reached out and played with him, and when it was hard enough, I guided it into my fuck hole. He perched on his arms and started to fuck me like a clumsy jack rabbit. I told him to slow down and to come down from his arms. We soon forged a good rhythm with his head nestled down by the side of mine. I stroked the back of his head and ran my other hand along his spine. Had it not been for his chest rubbing against my sore nipples it would have been perfection. But it was beautiful all the same, but not as beautiful as when I turned my head and we started to kiss. My rampant hormones started sending messages of gluttony to my pussy and I picked up the pace by speeding my upward thrusts. I wasn't expecting to feel the onset of another orgasm, but the tempo increasingly became more intense. Paul was pounding me hard and fast. I couldn't keep up with him, so I wrapped my legs around his back. The speed and power of his strokes were relentless and uncompromising, like a piston in a racing car engine. My pussy was taking one hell of a beating. I hung tightly on to his neck. My mind went hazy and my processing skills began to dessert me. I was rapidly losing my mind. I could hear someone shrieking and then screaming like a banshee and had little idea it was me. All of a sudden, my nether region erupted, and my pussy was sent into violent contractions, but it was still being hammered by Paul's ruthless cock. I lost all control and the next thing I knew I was desperate to squirt. It felt exactly like wanting to pee urgently but a hundred times more pressing. The outlet, however, was being stifled by Paul's cock and it caused a terrible feedback pain. I found myself crying "NO", but Paul was in the zone. My legs trembled uncontrollably like a palm tree in a ten-force gale and I could feel my eyes rolling to the back of my head. My clitoris and pussy never stopped palpitating and with each beat I wanted to squirt. It got to the stage where I was so delirious, I thought I was going to pass out. Paul finally climaxed, shooting his load deep inside me. I found myself making orgasm noises by proxy. I waited for a few seconds then literally threw him off me. No sooner had his cock left my pussy, a number of consecutive vicious spurts blasted against the wardrobe. I didn't want Paul to see, but I had no control over it, or control over the umpteen smaller squirts that landed on the carpet and bed. Paul could hardly believe what he witnessed. I immediately got out of bed and ripped off the bed sheet. "Did you just piss then?", Paul said with a large degree of repulsion in his voice. I was still flustered and keen to gather up the bed sheets. "No", I replied, "I don't know what I did". I could feel Paul's eyes glowing down on me. It was like that for a minute or so until he retreated out of the room and down the stairs to dress.