Brother Sucker (part 2)

I rang Lucy. No that was a lie. I rang Lucy’s number – but I hoped that he would answer. ‘He’ being Alex, Lucy’s brother. The guy who’s cock I had sucked. The guy who’s spunk I had swallowed. That thought, that memory made my stomach flip and a peculiar heaviness descended into my pelvic region. It was like I was hungry even though I’d just eaten. It was like I needed to masturbate even though I’d already orgasmed four times since I’d got home from school. The ‘heaviness’ was a new feeling but one which had become familiar in the days since I’d given my first blowjob. Just thinking that word gave me a hot stab of excitement. My legs crushed together under my skirt and there was a spike of pleasure as the folds of skin moved against each other. That spike was immediately followed by a hungry flicker from my pussy. I needed to masturbate again – what was wrong with me?

I wanted to hear his voice, even though I didn’t want to speak to him. Don’t get me wrong - I was desperate to speak to him but I didn’t know what I’d say. The phone was ringing. Oh God – what if he answered? What would I say to the man I’d had a crush on for over a year; a man who I’d now been intimate with.

“Hello?” Oh shit! It was him. It was Alex. Heat flushed up my body even as every organ sank. I wanted to slam the phone down. I wasn’t ready for this. I wasn’t equipped to deal with this; wasn’t ready to talk to a guy who had stuck his thing in my mouth. My mouth reacted to the memory. My jaw ached to stretch open, to take him inside again. It came open but no words came-out, although I had to fight to keep my saliva from escaping. What was I supposed to say? Was I supposed to admit to him that I couldn’t stop thinking about sucking his cock, admit how much I wanted to do it again?

“Hello?” he said, again. The stunned silence lengthened.

“Hi,” I croaked. “It’s Abi,” I added. There was another pause, “You know, Lucy’s friend.” I cringed inwardly. This was the most painful experience of my life.

“I know who you are, Abi,” he said. His voice was stern. He was chastising me, telling me off. Like my parents do when I forget to do something they’ve told me to do a thousand times already. Except this time I responded differently. The words turned my insides to mush. Being told off by him excited me. Was the reaction due to the fact that he was scolding me, or the fact that he knew who I was?

“I was just thinking about you,” he said. My worried heart leapt.

“You were?” My throat was so dry that I could hardly talk. Again, my mind replayed the moment when Alex’s cock jumped and jerked in my mouth… and then spurted. At the time, I’d thought I’d hurt him, ripped his flesh. Now I knew the truth of how I’d made him feel; had been able to match those feeling against my own when I played with my pussy and made myself orgasm.

“Actually, I haven’t stopped thinking about you since Saturday.” Oh my freaking God! My whole body was pounding. I was sure that he’d be able to hear the percussion of my heartbeat, the swish of my blood over the phone. How could he not?

“Really?” I squeaked.

“After what you did to me?” he laughed. “It was incredible – very, very special.” It was. That’s exactly what it been. Those were the words I’d used over and over again – along with ‘amazing’ and ‘unbelievable’.

“Listen… I can’t talk to you here - would you like to go out on Friday?” I barely contained a shrill squeal of delight.

“What: like a date?”

“No,” he said, momentarily stopping my fragile, teenage heart. “Not ‘like’ a date – an actual date. A date date.”

It started in my feet, curling my toes; then ran up my legs, picking-up the heat of a forest-fire as it swept through my pussy and broke me into a sweat as it squeezed the air from my lungs and arrived at my lips. “OK,” I whimpered, in a barely-audible whisper. I spread my hand against the wall for balance, feeling like I did after I ran for the bus with a bag full of books when I was late.

“Great! Did you want to speak to Lucy?”

“No, no,” I muttered. “It doesn’t matter.”

“OK,” Alex said, sounding slightly puzzled. “See you on Friday.”

“See you Friday,” I said, although the delay in my reaction meant the line was already dead. What had just happened? The man of my dreams had just asked me out – that was what had just happened. On a ‘date’ date. Oh my God. That was amazing. Oh my God – what was I going to wear! Excitement turned to fear as the night wore-on and I chose my outfit. I was going on a ‘proper’ date with a man. He would come home from work, whilst I came home from school. Then we’d get ready, meet up and do what? What would we do? More importantly, what would we do afterwards? Would he expect me to fuck him? Probably – I’d already given him a blowjob. He’d be expecting one of those and maybe more. My pussy clenched at the thought of being penetrated by Alex’s cock. The thought of giving my virginity to him seemed right somehow. God - was I actually ready? My Mum had told me that I’d ‘know’ when I met the right boy. I’d certainly never thought about ‘that’ with any other boy who had shown interest in me. But then again, I’d never seen their cocks. I’d never had anything to base my imagination, my fantasies on.

I was in the shower, readying myself for bed when I began thinking about having sex with Alex. The thought was scary. This was real. An actual possibility. I could lose my virginity in two days’ time. I let the water play over my body as I washed my hair. Then I added the conditioner and stepped-out of the flow. A familiarity sparked in my mind as I gripped the bottle. It reminded me of Alex’s cock. The girth was right. Perhaps I should try… perhaps I should practice? I’d never done anything like that before; never had anything inside me. Guilty excitement filled me. I could do it if I wanted, right now. I could push the bottle inside me and see what it felt like to be penetrated. Nobody would know.

I opened my eyes and was rewarded by sharp stinging pain, which immediately forced them closed again. If I was going to do it, I would have to do it blind. I washed the bottle under the water and changed my grip as I guided it down between my legs. Numbly, my legs came apart in acceptance of what I was planning. I guided the bottle up and felt an involuntary tightening as the cold blunt object nuzzled along the cleft of my pussy. I knew that it was what I wanted, what my body wanted. It was in position, resting at the mouth of my vagina. I slipped my hand down below the base and I pushed.

I knew it would probably hurt, but in a way I wanted it to. I wanted the physical pain to be private; something for me to deal with rather than when Alex impaled me with his cock. I tried to relax the tight muscles and prepare myself as I increased the blunt pressure. Something started stretching and the bottle seemed to shrink as my fingers rose towards my groin. Only it wasn’t shrinking, the bottle was the same size… which meant it was being forced into my pussy.

There was no sensation at first. No pain, no pleasure, no nothing. Then I felt it inside me. It was a cold throbbing numbness. The cold was helping – although I hadn’t anticipated that. It was soothing. As it went deeper, the feeling became one of heat. It started to feel good. Not just a psychological reward for violating myself, for being dirtier than I’d ever been before. But physically rewarding. My muscles tightened and I let-out a delighted groan as for the first time, they found resistance - something to grip. It hurt but in a wonderfully rewarding way. Confused signals from dormant nerve endings reported the unaccustomed penetration. It was delicious. I hardly dared to breathe as I ached with pleasure and throbbed with pain at the numbing cold penetrating my flesh.

Holding the bottle in place with my left hand, I moved the fingers of my right hand up, searching.

My pussy felt different, felt foreign - everything had been stretched, contorted, pulled tight as it accommodated the bottle. As my fingertips brushed over my clitoris, the sexual spark ignited the fuel from the internal throbbing. The breath was forced from my body in a huge, uncontrolled, gasping sob. My pussy was aching with pleasurable discomfort but as I felt the first spasm fire, I was shocked to feel the bottle lift off the supporting fingertips of my left hand. My clenching pussy had hauled it deeper inside.

I imagined that it was Alex’s cock inside me. The thought turned me on even more. I pushed the bottle in even further and then let it fall. Pushed it in again and let it fall, all the while imaging that Alex was fucking me. There was a natural rhythm to the dance and as I followed it, the sexual charge building in my pussy was terrifying. I thought I might explode as my fingertips swept over the nub of my clitoris again. It was so tender that I could barely stand for it to be touched. But I had to touch it again and again to take me into the orgasm I craved. It hurt like crazy to do it, to touch my over-sensitised bud but I managed to tweak it just enough…

I hung on the precipice for long moments, aware of the gale-force winds hurtling towards me. Then they hit.

The orgasm was exquisitely intense, every physical and emotional sensation blurred together; thoughts of Alex, and his cock blended with the torrent of physical pain and pleasure. Tremors sliced through every part of my being, ignited every nerve as my pussy walls clenched around the bottle, gripping and releasing – milking it. I was in a pulsing paradise for endless moments, surrendering utterly as my hips bucked, and my knees finally buckled.

I sank down, clutching the sides of the bath and only coming round as my pussy ejected the bottle into the bath with a heavy ‘clank’.

That was by far the most intense climax of my life. As I rinsed my hair and towelled myself dry, I wondered what it would feel like with a real cock moving inside me. Perhaps I’d find-out on Friday…