Double Or Nothing Ch 05

Emily came to my rescue. "Ok, that's enough, you two. I'll take over with that." She nudged me aside. I carefully found a clean spot on the messy, wet towel that I had been using to wipe my brother's sperm from his arm and hand, and passed it to her. It was hard to read the look on her face just then. Scolding, perhaps?

My 19-year-old younger brother had just put on a show for me and my best friend in the family room of my parents' house. He had made such a mess on himself that, while embarrassed to be totally nude myself, I knew that I had to go get a towel to start cleaning him so that he wouldn't stain the sofa.

When I stood to race for the towel, I thought for sure I had caught my friend Emily with her own dress hiked up, right there where he could have seen.

The room itself was filled with the mixed scents of our arousal. I hoped it would pass before my parents got home, but I was too inexperienced back then to have any way of knowing for sure.

Then I had made the innocent mistake, while trying to start cleaning him, of taking his wet hand into mine.

Emily took the towel and looked down at my kid brother as he lay bare on the couch. I was so grateful for her interruption. She must have seen how the simple act of touching his hand with mine, and wiping his fingers clean with the damp cloth, had unsettled me deeply.

Oh dear God, that feeling. It was not lust, it was not sexual, joining our hands together that way.

It was ... intimate.

And I think she was as surprised as me when that simple short contact had stirred Jordan's flagging erection to life.

Yes, ok, I admit, I had gotten a kick out of watching my younger brother masturbate. Yes, I knew he enjoyed pleasuring himself to his orgasm while I watched him. These were naughty things for a brother and sister to do. But they were different – a game. This was ... well, I didn't know what it was. It would take me some time to sort it out. I hadn't foreseen that things would get complicated like this.

As these thoughts wove themselves through my mind, I quietly pulled my panties back up, and my pink boy-shorts, and adjusted my top.

I sat heavily in the overstuffed chair, Jordan now the only one nude in the room. Emily was wiping the rivulets of his cum from his other arm, leaning over his bare body to reach it. His resurgent erection was still painfully evident, the tip of it brushing every so often against her soft yellow dress.

"Down boy," she giggled, "don't you dare make a mess on this dress." As she said this, she teasingly drew the wet cloth across his hardness, causing it to jump. "Ooh," she teased as she watched it move, "that's fun!"

"If you don't want a mess on your dress, miss, you'd better stop doing that," he retorted.

I smiled as I watched them play. "Oh really!?" she teased. "Is that going to make you come again?"

Dragging the nasty wet cloth slowly one more time from his testicles, along his hard shaft and past the tip, she dropped the cum-laden towel abruptly on his belly. "I'm going to go wash my hands," she announced then, and off she went to the powder room with a smile and a spring in her step.

My little brother was just wiping the last of his climax from his belly and chest when Emily returned. His erection was still there, undiminished. She went back to the couch and sat down on the edge near his shoulder. The soft curve of her bottom, underneath the yellow print dress, was just inches away from his face. She had brought a clean hand towel, and it looked like one half of it was nearly soaking wet, the other half dry.

"Let me help you with that," she said, and she leaned toward him and without further ado began gently massaging his erect penis with the wet part of the cloth. He let out a soft groan. He moved a hand behind her, resting it against her rounded behind.

She gently removed it, but without changing the motion her other hand was softly tracing with the warm towel on his penis. Then she turned her face toward his and said with mock sternness, "now, warn us this time before you're about to shoot off, so we don't have the same problem again."

Without answering, Jordan closed his eyes and stretched his arms behind his head, letting them dangle over the arm of the couch, while my best friend played with his hardness.

My own swirling confusion of a few moments ago started to calm as I watched him enjoy a hand job from someone other than his own sister. Now, instead, I felt like a voyeur, as though I were peeping in on a private touch between lovers. The conflicts receding, they were replaced, as I watched his sensual enjoyment, by the simple old feelings of naughtiness that had made our game seem like just innocent fun.

With Jordan's eyes firmly closed and Emily focused on the hardness beneath her fingers, I let my hand slip gently under my clothing to touch my own rising need. Slowly, and with just two fingers, I lightly brushed against myself and circled my clit. Warm pleasure spread from that place and I let it grow slowly, wanting to bathe in the light sensations this gave me, without going so far that I embarrassed myself in front of Emily and my little brother.

Having recently had his own orgasm, Jordan took longer than ever to come. Emily continued her gentle massage of his hard penis, but directly now, with just her hand and not the cloth on his flesh. She whispered something to him, so softly that I could not make out the words. Then she began speaking quietly to him, just loud enough that I could hear.

"Keep your eyes closed now," she intoned, "and I'll give you a special treat."

Seeing him in such pure lust, a hard, naked man in a room with two fully-dressed women, was having its effect on my own growing need. But now, I wondered, what was the "special treat?" My mind raced to conclusions. I couldn't believe Emily would actually bend down and suck my brother off while I sat here and watched. Would she?

Still moving only two fingers, I gently increased the pressure of my own private touch as I watched them.

My guess was wide of the mark. She made no move to take him into her mouth, instead continuing to play with his engorged flesh with her hand as she spoke softly to him.

"Your big sister is sitting in the chair by your feet," she said, as she gently rubbed his erection with her full open hand, sometimes reaching all the way down and lightly caressing his balls, sometimes just tracing the thick vein that ran up the center of his shaft. With her other hand, she brought the damp cloth nearby, ready to catch his mess when it came. I shivered roughly and flushed at her mention of me.

"She has one foot on the cushion and one on the floor. She is pushing the fingers of one hand down inside the front of her clothes."

Oh my God! She was going to describe to him exactly what I was doing! I froze for a moment but, to my own surprise, the thought of her doing it was wickedly building my own arousal. The reaction of my body insisted that I wanted her to go on.

"I can see them moving gently, up" she paused, breathing audibly, "and down, inside her panties... just... so... lightly, touching her pretty little pussy," she went on – using a word I always tried to avoid. I flushed deeply hearing her describe so graphically for my brother the indecent thing I was doing.

"Her head is resting against the back of the chair, but her eyes are open and she is looking at you, watching what I'm doing to you. Her fingers are still moving slowly, gently, up and down in her panties, sometimes, like now, making little circles down there." Emily breathed deeply. She never seemed to look at me, yet her description was baring me open. "I can see the fabric of her shorts move when she does it. I think now she has pressed one finger inside her." This part wasn't true, but it drew a soft release of breath from my brother.

"She must be very wet and slippery inside. Now she's brought her finger out and is gently flicking it against her clit. She's spreading her knees wider and sinking deeper into the chair. Mmmm, that must feel good what she's doing."

It did feel good what I was doing. She moved her hand against him.

"She's still rubbing herself with her hand inside her panties. She's still doing it very slowly and gently, taking her time with herself. Her hips are moving very slightly now, forward... and back... as the feelings she is giving herself are taking control. I'll bet her fingers are so wet now. She's moving faster. She's lifting her head a little, looking straight at your cock." Her descriptions of me were baring myself to my brother, as she touched him and, yes, as I watched. My own orgasm rose slowly within me and my legs began to shake.

I could see that my brother's responses to Emily's voice and her stroking were reaching a crescendo. She slowed, and she carefully brought the towel close to the tip of his penis with the hand that was not pleasing him, not engulfing him with it, but just near, to catch his ejaculation.

Emily continued: "Now, keeping your eyes closed, that's it, I want you to imagine that it is her hand touching your penis."

He breathed my name then and I watched as his body was taken by little convulsions and his white fluid, with less force than before, spilled out onto Emily's towel. One small stream reached her pale, bare wrist, causing her to squeal and flinch just a little. She kept rubbing his dick softly, waiting for the last spasms of his climax to subside, and then removed her hand from his manhood to wipe herself clean with a corner of the towel.

When Jordan had whispered my name, I could no longer prevent my own climax. My fingers were desperately trying to lighten their touch on my tender places and I held my breath to keep silent, but my knees pulled together and my shoulders flinched in the chair as the orgasm broke over me.

I stroked ever so slowly, gently, luxuriously downward one more time, and then back, savoring my slippery wet sex as the feelings eventually eased. Then slowly and quietly I withdrew my hand from my clothes, leaving as much wetness as I could on my thigh. I sat still in the chair for a long moment, letting the electricity inside me disperse.

Emily sat up on the edge of the couch, and she turned and saw me, and smiled. She lightly stroked Jordan's softening penis a few more times with her hand, letting the two of us separately come back to earth. Then, she spoke.

"Mission accomplished, girlfriend," she beamed at last. "See? No more mess!" She held up the towel and I could see my brother's milky liquid clinging to it in nasty thick globs.

I drew a deep breath and let it out slowly, shuddering slightly, my blood rising hot in my cheeks.

Finally, always the practical one, I said, "Let's go get these towels in the wash, and then let's go back out on the deck." I drew and released another long breath. "I could use some sun."

I looked back toward my nude brother, who had not moved on the couch, his eyes still closed and a contented smile on his lips. His dick had softened more and it oozed a small string of fluid onto his thigh.

Emily followed my gaze and laughed. "We can leave him here, for now."

I felt a cool relief settling inside me. Physical relief, of course, which I had taken care of myself once again, without having to let Jordan actually see me. But more deeply, I felt a kind of spiritual relief.

It was ok that my brother liked to look at my bare body. It was really kind of cute what a gentleman he was about that. My small nipples grew, remembering him saying that my little boobs were pretty.

And it was ok that I liked to look at him.

But the boundary of intimate touching... that was a great big, bright line.

Probably without even knowing exactly what she had done, Emily had stepped in to our complicated problem and had brought us back from the brink of it; she had reset our game to desire; but desire alone, without actual incestuous touch. And I thought, as I had watched Jordan reach for her bottom, that his desire for touch now had a more appropriate object in her.

She was older than him, smart and slender and head-turning pretty. Yet she had joined in these acts with us. It dawned on me then that I hoped she would do this again – all of it, and...

When we reached the laundry room, I stopped and touched her arm. "Thanks, Em."

She gave me another smile, full of warmth and something more. "Any time."

"Tell me something, ok? Emily?"

"What's that?"

"What did you whisper to him?"

She blushed quickly and chuckled, returning my touch.

"I told him my panties were wet. Do you think maybe I shouldn't have?"