At the age of sixteen, I was, like many a virgin, shy and somewhat sullen. Unlike the vast majority of my friends, I had not found a love. Vivid memories of that time, of how others seemed less awkward, still haunt me now. It would be fair to say that sex was a complete mystery to me, but the summer of 1999 changed that forever.
It was July, summer was in full bloom and everyone appeared to be excessively happy, everyone except for me that was. I was physically immature and painfully self-conscious. As the days dragged by, I sunk deeper and deeper into youthful depression. All this was exaggerated by the news that my family’s traditional summer sojourn by the coast was to be cancelled, due to some unforeseen expenses.
Then one Friday morning towards the end of July, my parents informed me that they had decided, on the spur of the moment, to go away for a long weekend, and that they were to leave that very evening. The news came as a surprise, which turned to shock when I discovered that I was to stay with my aunt, uncle and cousin, Sara, for the duration of my parents’ absence. I protested, but plans had been laid, and my plea went unheard. All this was compounded by the fact that my twin sister, Jenny, had got out of the situation by persuading my parents to let her stay with friends.
Let me explain: I was not overly fond of these particular relations, in fact I detested them. My aunt was a complete snob, especially with regard to her darling daughter. Uncle Henry, in retrospect, wasn’t that bad, although he too doted far too heavily on Sara, never seeing her for the mischievous brat that she was. Sara, it must be said, brought a whole new meaning to the term ‘precocious’, she fair brimmed with self-confidence. Three days in the company of cousin Sara was, without exaggeration, a nauseating prospect.
By five o’clock, on that Friday afternoon, having arrived and washed, I was taking tea with my aunt, and Sara. The mood over tea was sombre; I got the distinct impression that my presence was considered an imposition. Eventually, tea was over and I was told to go to my room and unpack.
The room that was to be mine for the next few days was, beyond doubt, the most dreary I had ever seen, although in a strange way I felt happy in there; it matched my mood. After all, there is nothing worse than the juxtaposition of beauty and abomination. Outside, framed in a Gothic stained glass window, was a large oak tree which blocked out much of the sunlight, yet somehow razor shape shafts of brilliance beat their way into the room, dappling the solitary bed in shades of silver and gold. Once again, I looked around the room, and then began to wonder where I was to put my clothes, as there wasn’t even a wardrobe to be seen. It was then that I became aware of someone stood behind me, it was Sara. So close was she that, as I turned, I could feel her warm breath upon my face. She told me that there was an empty draw under the bed in which I could store my belongings, and then offered to help me unpack. Before I had chance to refuse, she began to delve through my possessions, removing T-shirts, socks, trousers and, inevitably, several pairs of boxer shorts. I was really quite embarrassed by this, and I think it showed on my face; especially when Sara said with a sly giggle “Now I’ve seen your boxers, I suppose you want to see my panties.” I didn’t reply to her question, which made her laugh even more, but it started me thinking. After what seemed to be an eternity, the tension was broken by the sound of my aunt calling for us to come downstairs.
At the foot of the stairs, my aunt told us that she had arranged a treat; we were going to the cinema for the evening. Soon, we were on our way. Sat in the back of the car with Sara, however, turned out to be a nightmare blend of erotic fear and exhilaration; sketched in twilight, she slid up close to me and proceeded to pinch the upper regions of my leg. But what could I do, or say? I just had to sit there and endure the torment. Angered my by lack of response, her playfulness soon turned to spite. Mercifully, the journey to the cinema was a short one. The film, I cannot even remember its name now, was less than enjoyable; most of the evening was spent worrying about what Sara had in mind next.
In bed, that night, I began to think about Sara, about how she had developed since last seeing her two years before. She was about the same age as me, and I must say she had blossomed; her hair was light blonde and curled loosely in the shape of a bob, her lips pouted a moist blood red. But, most striking of all was the luminescence of her frosted, shattered ice, green eyes. At about 5’7, she was a few inches taller than I, her body was slender and her skin a creamy white; not unlike a china doll. What struck me most was the size of her breasts; they were now curvaceous and pert. The more I thought about her the more sexually excited I became. Yet, I knew that I should forbid such feelings, and so I closed my eyes to sleep.
At around dawn, I awoke with a start, to find Sara sat on the bed beside me. Immediately, realising that I was partly uncovered, I hastily pulled the sheets up under my chin. Sara smiled, and said “Don’t worry, I didn’t see anything.” I lay there riveted by her gaze. Splinters of light, from the window behind, caught her curls, spitting bolts of colour, to form a halo about her face. She was wearing a long, pale blue, cotton, T-shirt; which just covered her thigh. I could not take my eyes off of her, and following the line of her smooth legs I could feel the first stirrings of an erection. Plucking up courage, I asked what she wanted. “Just to talk,” she replied. Again, I fell silent, and wondered at the scene. By this time the tumescence of my erection had become conspicuous through the bedclothes, and this prompted Sara’s curiosity. In a haughty, but eloquent, tone she enquired, “Do you masturbate very often?” I could not believe her questions; in fact, I was completely dumb struck. “It’s all right, you can tell me. I do it,” she continued eagerly. But still I remained quiet. Her next questions were even more unexpected, “Would you mind me watching you masturbate, or letting me do it for you?” and as she asked she placed her hand over my erection: stroking me through the sheets.
By now I had become slightly more adventurous, and tentatively I reached forward to stroke Sara’s bare legs; I even asked if I could lift up her T-shirt to look underneath. But, suddenly, as my hand moved to her thigh, Sara got up and hurried towards the bedroom door, pausing for a second to say, “There’s no time this morning, but I’ll come early tomorrow and then we can do it properly.”
My anticipation, throughout that Saturday, was unbelievable; each time I got close to Sara I became aroused. I think she noticed my excitement because whenever I looked at her she would wink a knowing wink. Slowly, the morning turned into afternoon. At about two o’clock, Sara went off for a riding lesson with some of her friends; leaving me in the company of my aunt. Being rather bored, I decided to go to my room and read for a while. I suppose I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I remember is waking up to the sound of Sara’s footsteps downstairs.
Jumping off the bed, I ran to greet her. What a sight she was, standing there in full riding gear. She beckoned me to follow into the cloakroom; which, I must admit, I was more than happy to do. Without a word, she removed her riding cap and placed it in the corner with her crop. Then, turning back to face me, she, hesitantly, began to unbutton her jacket; her delight in the excitement she caused was obvious. Having removed her jacket, she sat down and asked if I would help strip off her riding boots. Agreeing, I dropped to my knees in front of her and tugged at her feet until they were free from encumbrance. As I held her sock clad feet in my lap, she tantalised by rubbing my crotch with her toes. Sara then proceeded to stand up and untuck her blouse; by now I was wondering whether I would, at last, get to see her sensuous naked flesh. My heart was pounding and I was breathing heavily as I knelt before her, while with a huge grin on her face, she pulled down her jodhpurs; discarding them, unceremoniously, along with the rest of her riding gear, whilst my eyes fixed firmly on the hem of her blouse. Unfortunately, her blouse was just long enough to cover her panties; so, as of yet, I could see nothing of what I yearned for. Then came the biggest tease, she reached under the hem of her blouse and slowly peeled her tiny, white panties down. I almost ejaculated as I watched the gusset invert and slide down between her inner thighs. Stepping out of her panties, leaving them in the middle of the room, she ran out of the door and towards her bedroom. I stood up to follow but was stopped in my tracks by the sound of my aunt approaching.
Finally, night swept the house and, climbing into bed, I contemplated what might happen. I couldn’t sleep as I awaited the daylight. After what seemed like an age, I heard the bedroom door creak open and Sara creep in. “Are you ready?” she asked.
“Yes,” I replied.
Without further ado, I removed my pyjamas beneath the bedcovers and, grasping my penis, began to masturbate. After a while, Sara snatched the sheets away to reveal the sight. Looking at the delight on her face and taking hold of her hand, I asked if she would do it for me. But instead of taking me in her hand, she pulled out a digital camera from behind her back and quickly snapped a picture, before I had chance to cover myself. Then, with camera in hand, she leapt off the bed and rushed back to her room. I could hardly believe her cunning, I had been tricked by a master. What would she do next? That afternoon I was to find out exactly what she had planned.
For most of that Sunday morning I managed to successfully avoid Sara. But after lunch my worst fears started to become a reality when my aunt told me that she, and my uncle, were going out and would not be back until very late. The thought of spending the rest of the day, and the evening, alone with Sara was almost too much to bear. Fortunately, however, the news that Sara and I were to spend the time with my aunt’s neighbour made me feel slightly better. Safety in numbers, I thought.
More fortunate too, was the fact that my aunt’s friend was the mother of one my best friends, and I’d known her for years. Cecile was kind and wonderful, as was her daughter, my friend Lucy. Lucy’s sister Juliet, on the other hand, wasn’t so great.
After tea, my aunt walked Sara and I across the road and deposited us upon Cecile’s doorstep. Shrouded in the doorway arch, I remember feeling indignant, as my aunt bid me, and not Sara, to behave. The first few hours with Cecile passed without incident; Sara disappeared upstairs with Juliet while Cecile, Lucy and I watched television. In fact, I was very happy with the situation because I had had quite a crush on Lucy for some years. Although the same age as Sara the similarity ended there, for Lucy was warm, like her mother, and she had the most charming of mannerisms. Juliet, on the other hand, was, personality wise, the total opposite of Lucy; Juliet, at about a year older than Lucy, was far more like Sara.
My worries began to resurface when Cecile explained that she had to go out for the evening and would not be back until about midnight. I knew full well that Sara would seize the opportunity to humiliate me in front of the others.
Nothing much happened initially, after Cecile left; except I kept hearing the odd giggle come from Sara and Juliet upstairs. Wondering what was going on, Lucy, eventually, got to her feet and said, “I’m going up to see what those two are laughing about”.
Of course, I knew just what the joke was. Hardly a second had seemed to pass before Lucy returned with the remnants of a grin visible in her eyes. She sat down beside me and said, simply, “Sara has a photo of you masturbating!” I didn’t know where to look or what to do, but to my amazement Lucy lent forward, put her arms around my neck, and, placed her soft lips to my cheek. As I sat there, motionless, Lucy moved her aqueous mouth onto mine and began to kiss me passionately. “Is he any good then Lucy?” came Juliet’s voice from the doorway. Lucy pulled away from me and we both turned to see Juliet and Sara enter the room. Things were about to hot up!
Before I had a chance to move, or say anything, Juliet pushed Lucy to one side while Sara jumped on me; I found myself pinned to the sofa. With Sara straddling me, and holding my hands above my head, Juliet grabbed the waistband of my trousers and pulled them down around my ankles. “And now your boxers!” Juliet yelled with glee.
My attempts to break free of Sara’s grip were useless, and I gave in completely when she told me that if I struggled she would show that picture to everyone I knew, although to be honest I was already more than willing to do anything Sara and the others wanted. As I stopped struggling, I realised that Juliet was tugging at my underwear. Suddenly, as Juliet hooked the front of my boxers under my scrotum, I was exposed to the gaze of three pairs of very inquisitive eyes. Even Lucy, who I had thought to be my friend, was laughing at the sight. Soon I was on my feet and Sara was positioning herself directly in front of me. Moving her hands downward, she grasped the hemline of her loose, floral patterned, summer dress and began to raise it. I could not take my eyes off of her as the material of her panties came into view. Although, I protested, my rapidly growing penis did not agree, and by the look on her face Sara knew it. Then, letting go of her hemline, she turned her back to me. What happened next was beyond belief! Once again, Sara lifted her dress up to waist level and then bent forward. The sight of the scanty, tight, silky, cappuccino coloured panties stretched taught across the cleft of Sara’s bottom was incredible. By now I was hoping that I would be lucky enough to be brought to a climax. But nothing could have prepared me for what was to follow.
Sara, teasing, gradually moved backwards towards me, until her bottom was pressed against the underside of my erect, and quivering, penis. It was at this very moment that I realised that Sara was going to masturbate me against her bottom through the silk of her panties. The sensation, as Sara moved her bum up and down rhythmically, was tremendous. My phallus, sliding back and forth in the panty covered crevice, felt as if it would burst in orgasmic rapture. Within seconds I released a fountain of semen over Sara, but I didn’t want to stop. I clasped my hands around her waist and continued to rub my flagging erection against the smooth plump cheeks of her bottom. But Sara pulled away, wiped away my semen with her hand, and ran screaming from the room. I wondered if the experience was over.
The feelings of dread and guilt that were beginning to wash over me were cut short by Juliet’s next words. “Come on Lucy, it’s your turn now,” Juliet yelled, as she reached under her sister’s skirt to ease her knickers down. Lucy looked nervous, but made no effort to resist Juliet, who by this time was undressing her: first her panties, then her blouse and white lace brassiere, and, finally, her skirt. At last Lucy was naked, although at that point I couldn’t see what I wanted because she had raised her right hand and left arm to hide her vulva and nipples, respectively. I held my breath for a second, and then slowly, without prompting, Lucy allowed her arms to drop. Never had I seen such a sight of beauty: she was tall, thin and naturally olive skinned; her flat chest made her look somewhat androgynous.
Lucy, trembling slightly, moved across the room and lowered herself, legs tightly closed, onto the centre cushion of the sofa. Then, peering up at me with her large chocolate eyes, she slid her bottom forward to…
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