No Blood No Foul

My folks had me when they were young and I guess the shotgun wedding thing wasn't for them in the long run. Dad made good by our small family; he finished high school and worked his way through college, earning an electrical engineering degree, and supported us the whole way. Mom didn't fare out so well. Her folks took care of me for the first two years of my life while she finished high school and she stayed home with me after that. She started drinking soon after and it wasn't much trouble for dad to get custody of me in the divorce a few years later. So here I am, a senior in high school with a wealthy, single, 34 year old father. Sometimes it almost feels like we're Batman and Robin.

I guess I always pretty much knew my dad would remarry; he was never much of the swinging bachelor. His new wife was a few years older than he and old enough to have a daughter my own age. Now I have a stepmother ("Please don't call me 'mom,' dear, call me Miranda") and a sister, Janine.

Adapting to life was a bit strange. For example it was a bit odd for me that my brand-spanking-new sister was already more popular at school than I was. I was a bit of an odd one, but Janine was your classic American long stemmed beauty. With her up-to-the-second wardrobe and her mastery of the nuances of pop culture it took her exactly two days to have an armada of friends while my three plus years of obscure bands and tee shirts had earned me two.

Possibly the oddest part of all this was now having A-list people in my house. After living there for the past eight years it was almost like being a guest. I stayed locked away in my sanctuary upstairs or down in dads lab while Janine entertained the illuminati of high school culture in the house proper. They were usually pleasant but Janine was the only one who was truly nice to me. I would hear her now and then scolding a friend for making a snide comment at my expense after I had dared to pass through the room. These people could be shitty at times, but Janine always stuck up for me.

Then there was The Day. It started out as one of those average shittiest-day-of-your-life kind of days. Woke up late, car wouldn't start, missed the bus, bitched out by half my teachers, caught in the rain on my way home. You know those days. I didn't figure it could get much worse, and then I got home. Janine had a friend over as usual and today it was Amanda Crawford. Amanda was your typical A-list sob, hotter than hell, spectacular wardrobe, and an absolute bitch to losers like me. Staying in the house proper was now an impossibility, as I would have to suffer a multitude of barbs and sideways glances from Amanda. I decided to just head up to my room, beat off, and listen to a few cds.

Up in my room, I assumed the position. I wasn't really in the mood, but I had to do something to brighten my day a little. On the bed, pants around my ankles, baby oil in one hand, slick cock in the other. It didn't take to long for my member to agree to a spanking and soon it was off to the races. I figured I could just bust a quick nut and relax enough to enjoy the music. My groove was coming along nicely. I was using my preferred stroke of twisting my hand as it pumped slowly along the length of my unit, squeezing from the base to the tip. I loved the way the mixture of stimuli of up and down and back and forth felt over the length of my shaft and the way the head of my cock would send jolts of electricity up my spine as it squeezed through my slippery fingers. It wasn't long before I was ready to pop. And there I was, toes curled at the end of my splayed legs. I was breathing hard and my eyes were glazing as I felt my cock begin to twitch. Just as the first rope of cum was launched from me I heard it: clickclack, pop, whirrrrrrr. My head wheeled around in horror as I continued to spew forth jizm. And what to my glazed eyes did appear? Why it was that cunt Amanda Crawford laughing and holding a freshly exposed Polaroid in the doorway of my room. "Gotcha!" she cackled as she bounced off down the hallway.

That sucked.

I yanked my pants up and tried to run out after her. There was a huge stain on the front of my pants as the straggling cum leaked out of my spent cock, not to mention my shirt, which had born the brunt of my secreted barrage. I must have been a sight, clothes basted in my own cum, hands shining with baby oil. I was going to kill her. No, first I was going to get that Polaroid and then I was going to kill her. I was going to get that Polaroid and shove it far enough up her ass that she would die. I flew down the stairs and wheeled around the corner into the living room. In my stocking feet I barely managed to stay upright as I skidded across the waxed hardwood floor. I flailed trying to hold onto my balance as my feet hit the rug. When I finally came to a stop I saw not just Amanda, not just Amanda and Janine, but Amanda, Janine and three other girls. They were all staring at the Polaroid. Four of them were in tears with laughter and Janine was on her way over to see what was so funny.

No, THAT sucked.

By the time Janine got there they had all looked up to see me covered in the evidence. Janine was instantly furious and managed to snatch the picture away from them as they all stood slack jawed and grinning at me, but the damage was done. It was now going to be much more difficult to show my face at school. I could see the stares and hear the whispers already. Yeah sure everybody does it, but not everybody has the popular kids in his high school snap his candid portrait at the magic moment.

I trudged back up to my room leaving gales of laughter in my wake. Once there I shucked my soiled clothes and let them drop where they were. I slogged my way into the bathroom and got into the shower. I tried to scrub off the embarrassment but the only solace I found was in the fact that Janine got the picture away from them and I wouldn't have to worry about it finding it's way into the halls of Horace Greeley Senior High School. But the fact that my stepsister had a picture of me cumming into my fist just replaced that embarrassment with several new ones. The happiest thought to cross my mind was that in a few long months I would be far away in a college dorm where I would have the good sense to at least beat off in the privacy of a shower stall.

Showered and dry I crossed the threshold into my room and tossed on some clean clothes. I tried to gather my trophies of shame but to my not-so-great surprise, considering the day I was having, my shirt was gone. Damn it, I loved that shirt. I gathered up my sheets and a few other things that needed washing and headed down to the basement. I paused before entering the living room on the way and luckily it was empty. I tossed my stuff in the washer when I reached the basement and headed back up to the kitchen. At least depression didn't kill my appetite.

On the fridge was a note. "I'm really sorry about that. Amanda can be a bit of a bitch at times. I took the picture and threw them out. Sorry again, Janey." Well that was cool. Janine had stood up for me once again. I'd have to thank her for that, but first I really needed a sandwich.

Sated and feeling a bit better I went up to Janine's room to thank her for sticking up for me. I planned on making a big deal out of it, as I knew she did it a lot and this time was a big one. I was amazed how everything remained status quo with her friends, that they didn't blow her off and that they weren't more polite in my presence. When I got to her room, it was empty. I started looking for her, but I couldn't find her anywhere. I was in the laundry room putting the mantles of my embarrassment in the dryer when I heard Miranda come home.

"Hi mom!" She was here? Where did she go? Where did she hide? Was she hiding? I could hear their conversation upstairs as the basement door was right in between the front door and the living room.

"Hello sweetheart, how was your day?"

"Not too bad."

"Why are you wearing that dreadful tee-shirt? Did you get caught in this rain? It looks like something your brother would wear. Honestly, he's a sweet boy but it's obvious he had no mother to help him pick his clothes." Tee shirt? My tee shirt? My tee shirt that was covered in cum? Okay, this is odd.

"Oh, I sometimes I'll pinch one of his shirts to wear," I heard Janine explain as I climbed the stairs. "They're nice and worn in so they're super comfy. I don't think he minds."

"Well at least go change to a clean one, dear. God only knows what those crusty little spots… Oh, hello darling, I was just commenting to your sister on how you need to do your laundry more often," was mom/Miranda's hello as I entered the living room.

"Hey Miranda," I replied sheepishly. It was easy to see where Janine got her looks and I was always a bit uncomfortable being around her when I was half dressed. "I was just downstairs putting a load in the dryer." Janine squirmed a little bit as the last comment escaped my lips. I guess she was trying not to laugh at my self-incriminating double entendre.

Miranda sashayed over to me and planted a sloppy kiss on my cheek. She was really good at those, they felt like they were really coming from someone I could call 'mom.' "Go put a shirt on, dear, before you catch your death." She gave me a quick pat on the rear end as she sauntered into the kitchen. I gave Janine an unwitting hangdog look as I headed for the stairs.

Dad had helped me build a little lair for myself in the basement next to his shop. I had my television, Playstation, stereo and all the other teen-age boy amenities down there to help me escape the doldrums. This is where I was, watching the Ranger game, when I heard the knock. "Come in," I said without moving my eyes from the set.

"How's the hammer hangin', tough guy?" It was Janine. She called me tough guy for the way I shrugged off the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune. She plopped down next to me and started munching away casually on my pretzels. "So who's winning?"

"Oh, hey Janine. Listen, I want to say thanks for sticking up for me. And not just today either, you really put your social life on the line shielding me from those people."

"Hey, no problem, what are big sisters for?" She was two months younger and thought it was a hoot to refer to herself as my big sister. I was dying to ask her why she put on that shirt when she knew it was covered in cum, but would much preferred to have just forgotten the whole incident.

"Sure," I chuckled, "but just the same, thank you. If there's anything I can do, I mean I know I can't offer much, but if there's ever anything you need," I was beginning to get choked up. The day had just been too much for my young psyche to handle.

"Hey hey, c'mon now," said Janine as she scooted toward me on the couch and slung her arm around me. "Don't let it get to you. You're too far above that." She pulled me to her and gave me a warm hug to comfort me. It was working, but maybe working too well. Feeling her soft warmth against me made it all too easy to forget that she wasn't really my sister. If my dad hadn't married her mom she'd just be another unobtainable girl at school for me to think about while I beat off. I smelled her hair and felt her firm, young breasts pressed against me. She was dressed for bed in a long nightshirt over her panties and every one of her soft curves was evident against my body. I had to pull away and curl my legs to my chest in hopes that she wouldn't notice the tent in my sweats.

She looked at me quizzically when I pulled away. Maybe she sensed what was going on in my mind and body and thought to ease off with the affection. The blood drained from my face when I heard "Listen, about that picture," I was about to pass out. "Aww, c'mon, you said you'd do anything." I was really confused now, hoping that this would not lead to further embarrassment.

"What?" I croaked, barely able to get my voice above a whisper.

"Can I keep it?" The words hung in the air like smog. Why the hell would she want to keep it? Her head hung, I could barely make out the blush spreading over her cheeks as they hid behind the chin length blonde hair as she began to stammer out the rest. "I mean, you know, we're not really brother and sister, really. It's not bad for me to, fuck, to like, y'know, looking at it?"

I was speechless. She was telling me that she got off on looking at a picture of me cumming in my fist. I guess the expression on my face said everything because when she looked up, her face beet red, her lower lip quivering, she answered the question I couldn't get my mouth to ask. "I can't help it. Did you hear what they were saying before you came in? 'Oh my god Janey, I never knew!' and "Jesus Janey, right across the hall? Why didn't you tell us?' When I saw the picture I was too pissed to think about it, but while you were in the shower…" Her voice fluttered here for a second, her fingers dancing slowly at the hem of her shirt. The soft cotton began to rise under her fingers and a glimpse of bikini cut pink fabric became visible beneath it. "I don't know, I stopped and looked and, Jesus, it was so hot. There you were with this huge purple cock sticking straight up, and you were cumming, it was all over the place, so much of it," She was breathing heavier, her hand had crept up under her shirt and I could see her massaging her breast underneath. The nipple on her other breast was sticking out like a pencil eraser through her shirt. She was staring straight past me, I wondered if she even realized we were in the same room.

My cock was raging. Stepsister or not, Janine was gorgeous, and here she was halfway to masturbating telling me how much it turned her on to see me cum. Suddenly her eyes snapped back into focus. "Do it for me, I want to see it up close, in person." She looked hungry. She leaned back and sprawled out on the couch, her other hand slipping into her thin cotton panties which were now sporting a dark wet spot on the crotch. I saw her fingers rub her slit through the fabric and I lost control.

I yanked my sweats down in one quick motion. Janine gasped when my member popped out already at full mast. She slithered off the couch and knelt in front of me to get an eye-level view. Her hand reached out and grabbed my wrist as I tried to grab my aching cock and release the tension welling up. "You're not going to do that dry, are you?" she asked as she pulled my open palm to her face. Her tongue extended from her mouth and left a long, thick trail of saliva on my palm.

I was so hot my hand snapped back to my lap when she let go of it. My fingers curled around the base and I put all of my effort into stroking slowly. I wasn't merely trying to cum like I usually do; I had to put on a show for my stepsister. The sensations of stroking my aching cock were unreal, it had never been this good before, it was even better than the time Debbie from my pre-calculus gave me head at my buddies party those months ago.

Having Janine kneeling in front of me as I jerked off was a bigger turn on than I could've imagined. Watching the look on her face, watching her bite her lower lip as her hand slowly moved up and down inside her panties, I was losing control rapidly. She grabbed her shirt and slowly peeled it off revealing her flawless body to me. Her breasts were unbelievably perky considering their size. Her nipples were crunched tight in front of them into rock-hard little studs. "Is this better?" she cooed as her hand slid back down into her panties.

She leaned back on her free hand. She put her body on display for me, her amazing breasts slouching ever so slightly to the side, her fingers in her panties disappearing into the pussy that was agonizingly hidden by her sopping panties. "Does it help to look at me while you stroke yourself?" she asked through her panting. Incapable of speech I nodded yes.

My hand was picking up speed and gripping my cock tighter. My wrist was twisting my fist in circles, my cock now lubricated with the saliva that remained and a generous amount of pre-cum as I neared the edge. Janine leaned forward and switched hands in her crotch. As the new hand continued its counterparts work in her damp crotch the other, slick with her musk reached forward and slid over my balls. They twitched at the touch and I was sent into overload. "Mmm, you're going to cum soon aren't you?" I couldn't even nod a response to that. My legs had gone limp as the orgasm took control of my bodily function. She lifted straight up and kneeled in front of me. "Cum on me, I want to feel your cum all over me like it was al over you this afternoon. That's why I took your shirt, so I could smell your cum on me just as if you had shot your wad on my tits." She looked up at me with her eyes pleading and I came with hurricane force. The first jet of cum shot from me with a grunt and arched high through the air to land with a loud splatter on her tits. Her back arched as rope after rope shot out of me and landed on her. Her hand was grinding quick circles in her crotch as she panted. "Fuck, this is so hot. Oh God, I'm cumming hard."

I fell back into the couch as Janine collapsed on the floor. She was grinning from ear to ear and her hand had slowed back down to lazy circles in her crotch. She was covered in cum; large drops ran down the sides of her breasts and rivulets began to pool in the cleft between her collarbones. After a few moments I watched in amazement as she ran her finger through a stream of the slick jism that covered her nipple and bring it to her mouth. "Mmm, nice, but I bet it's better hot from the source," she said through a happy grin. Then she stood, letting my cum stream don her body. Looking down she said "Looks like we both need showers. I'd like to have a fresher sample in there if you think you can rise to the occasion."

She turned and shimmied topless and carefree towards the stairs. She stopped and turned around to see if I was still breathing. She laughed when she looked in my lap and saw that I was already halfway to being ready to get a blowjob in the shower. "Well, come on then," she said and headed up the stairs.