When Bobbie was a teenager, she was hardly a tomboy. Even though she's twenty-one now, she still reflects a lot of the girly traits she once had. This goes part in parcel with a lot of things she likes, from her clothes to her choices in furniture.
Her old room back at our folk's place was a case in point. Used to be, the walls were light pink with cream trim on the baseboards and ceiling. Paintings of fantasy scenery -- forests with unicorns, elves, etc. -- on nearly every wall, and soft, plush carpet in a contrasting hue lined the floor.
It looked like the typical girl's room... that is, until you looked at her bed.
That bed was an inheritance of sorts; given by our grandfather Gus, when his wife Norma passed away a few years ago. It was a huge queen-sized rig, consisting of a massive, solid mahogany four-poster frame, with carvings of horse heads and other nature themes carved into the wood. With mattress and all, it came up to about waist-high to me, and Bobbie often said she had to make a running jump just to get into bed every night.
Mom kept telling my sister that she'd get a better bed in the future, but Bobbie wouldn't take any suggestion otherwise. She LOVED that bed so much. It was her fortress, her refuge... but, sad to say, eventually Bobbie's other interests -- sports, computers, and a half-dozen other hobbies -- began to crowd in and take up more space in her bedroom than our parents would allow. It forced her to have to decide to relinquish her cherished heirloom bed in favor of a space-saving futon; something Bobbie didn't like in the first place.
So, that's when I, her big brother came to the rescue. For when the time came and I moved into my current apartment, I needed a bigger bed for the master bedroom. I hadn't had much luck finding one to buy myself, but when the subject came up over dinner at the parent's home one night, Bobbie made the 'suggestion to both Mom and Dad to let me take her four-poster. After a short discussion, both of our parents agreed it was the perfect solution. I didn't have to spend any money to get a new bed (which could be used elsewhere), and Bobbie's precious heirloom didn't have to be given away to someone else, or at the least broken down and shoved into the shed out in the backyard.
So, that's how I ended up with that big, four-poster, and have been using it for nearly seven years. It's a hell of a lot more comfortable than my old twin matress, and certainly a lot more roomy....
And, at this particular moment, Bobbie's bed was being used for something I never, EVER thought I'd be doing in it.
* * * *
Yes, Bobbie was getting her pussy eaten. And unless you missed it, it was me, her brother Jerry, who was munching on her tasty little cookie!
"Ooo, mmmh! Ya-hah-AAH!" Bobbie's moans were the fuel for a new orgasmic fire; her head tipped back on the mattress, rolling over the dark-cotton sheets, with her throat exposed as she arched herself like a bow. Both hands were gripping the posts bracketing the headboard, as she let her legs splay out in a near-split. Toes curling and clenching with every spasm of pleasure that was wracking her body.
I stretched out between her spread legs on my belly, clad in only my boxer-briefs, with my legs sticking off the end of the huge bed. I used to think that four-poster was almost too big for me. Now, however, it seemed just perfect for the activity at hand, Holding onto Bobbie's thighs, I had her lower body pinned to the mattress as I slurped, licked and nibbled on her pussy. Almost wallowing like a pig at the trough, because Bobbie was leaking pussy cream by the quart, I relished her pussy's flavor -- as I said before, like high-quality rum and sweet butterscotch.
It was probably the most delicious thing that I had ever tasted before (and that's saying something, out of the baker's dozen or so cunts I've eaten in my life). I swabbed my tongue up one side of her labia and down the other, while pausing from time to time to lavish as much attention to her clit as I could. That little pebble of rigid flesh was very sensitive, for about each time I put my wet oral digit against it, Bobbie would clap her thighs against my ears when the sensations made her slam her legs around my head.
"AaaAHH! Jerry, ohmiGOD!" Her hips were bucking like a bronco, and with the "spur" of my teeth nipping gently against her nubbin, she almost knocked me back off the bed on the fourth time I did that. Quivering and mewling with delight over the pleasure-pain I was causing, my dark-haired baby sister was cresting towards her third climax in as many minutes.
I managed to pry my face away from her heaving body briefly, licking up the cream on my lips and grinning up at her as I muttered, "Mmm, sweet pussy! Candy cunt!"
Breath laboring in her lungs, Bobbie craned her head up, bracing against the pillows with her shoulders as she stared with lust-fogged eyes at me. "Ya-you . . . oooh, god! You, like . . . th-the taste of my pussy, J-Jerry?"
With a growl, I just leered at her. "Like? Nah, love it." Without further prompting, I dove back in, thrusting my tongue deep into her swollen gash, making her squeal with passion. What I had told her held true -- my baby sister had a pussy I could eat for days, if it were possible. Despite the copious amount of cream oozing from her cookie, I was determined to give it the ol' college try.
Eventually, Bobbie's pussy couldn't take much more stimulation. Her legs straightened out over my shoulders, scissoring my head in a vice-lock. Even from my place between those thighs, I could see the onset of another orgasm as her tummy began to ripple in waves. Above, her back arched to extreme as her cries hit a high note and held in one, long, sweet screech of release. Her pussy was practically spewing molten cream, coating my chin, lips and cheeks with her wonderful essence. I rode it out, coaxing out as much of her liquid flow as I could, until her spray slowed to a slow dribble-drip and her body went as limp as a rag-doll.
Eventually, I slipped up from between Bobbie's legs and propped myself up on my arms to look at her. Her short hair was damp against my pillow, skin flushed with that blush of passion. Her cries of release were now mere whimpers of aftershock-pleasure, coming between gasps as she coasted down from her climax.
With a fond smile, I said, "You still with me, kiddo?"
Breathing deeply, Bobbie kept her eyes closed as she murmured, "mmm, gimme a sec . . . t'ink I left my head back on th' moon!"
I had to chuckle at that. "Well, you are welcome."
