I was an only child, but just before I finished High School my parents divorce landed me in the custody of my Father. When he remarried just after my eighteenth birthday I found myself with a stepbrother and sister. The house we lived in was small, and we shared it with my step-grandparents for several years. My brother and sister were both very close to my age. Sarah is one year older than me and Jeff is two years older.
Sarah and I shared a small room with bunk beds. Jeff had his own in the corner of the attic. We quickly became great friends. I remember many nights lying in the bottom bunk, Sarah and I talking for hours about anything and everything. Eventually talk of boys and sex took op most of our late night conversations. She'd tell me fantasy stories about the guys she'd been with while I'd lay there in the dark, letting my hands wander over my body, listening to her whisper about how she loved to suck cock and let boys eat her pussy. Sarah was my first and best teacher when it came to the subject of sex.
One night she was off on a particularly long and hot story; talking about her boyfriend, how she'd let him pull down her panties that afternoon, how wicked it felt, him seeing her pussy in the back of his garage, how his fingers felt on her clit, how she wiggled away before he could push his fingers inside her. She told me how she pulled his cock out of his pants and stroked it back and forth, all in lurid detail. By this time I was horny as hell, tingling all over. Though I wouldn't have described it this way then, in hindsight I'd say I was positively aching to be fucked.
I stopped her in mid story.
"I wish I knew what it was like, to have a guy touch me like that," I whispered to her in the dark. Then she was leaning over the edge of the top bunk, her hair hanging down, looking at me.
"Do you?" she asked.
My mouth suddenly dry, my breath coming faster, my heart racing.
βYes.β I answered. She was getting me hot and I just wanted to be touched.
"Roll over toward the wall," she whispered back. I did as she told me. Then she was reaching down between the bed and the wall. Looking up I could see she'd wedged her shoulder in there as well. I could see part of her face above me in the dark. She pulled back the covers, left me lying there in just my flowered cotton panties and oversized T-shirt. Then her hand was on my thigh, brushing gently so that goose bumps broke out over my whole body. It was like nothing I'd ever felt before. She told me to close my eyes and pretend it was a man, touching my body.
Then she was whispering to me again, telling me about the guy touching me. She let her hand wander over my body, acting out all of the details.
"...He reaches under your shirt..."
I felt his hand on my belly.
"...He touches your tits, he's playing with your nipples..."
And my shirt was pulled up, fingers running over my nipples, one to the other until they were hard as rocks. Gentle tugs and pinches, twisting and pulling. Never since then has anyone paid so much attention to my nipples. I was transported, just lying there reveling in pleasure. Sarah went on talking.
"...And then he tells you to pull down your panties..."
My hear was pounding, ready to explode. I hooked my fingers in my panties and all but ripped them down my thighs.
"No," she said, "you have to do it slow and tease him a bit or he'll think you're a slut."
"I don't feel like a slut," I replied, "and I don't see what's wrong with it. I just want to feel him touch my pussy."
She let her hand travel lower, over my belly and hip, brushing against my pussy lips. It was so fucking hot, so wild. I never knew anything could feel so fucking good. I began to thrust my hips into her hand as she pushed herself farther down between the bed and the wall, her magical fingers still working between my legs.