My Taboo First Time

My Taboo First Time

by Natalie Deschain

***

Copyright 2014, Natalie Deschain

Published by Natalie Deschain

***

This is a work of fiction, featuring consenting adults in sexual situations.

All characters depicted as engaging in sexual activity are eighteen years of age or older. No blood relatives engage in sexual activity of any kind.

***

“Chris?” I said.
 

“Yeah?” he said, blearily.
 

I sat down across the kitchen table from my stepbrother and looked at him. I had been planning this for weeks and I knew I had to make every detail perfect. I pretended I’d just gotten up, but I’d been awake for hours, styling my hair, making it shine and fame my face in loose waves so it looked like bedhead but more, I don’t know, artful. I was in my underwear and a tank top with nothing on under it, and when I leaned forward to look him in the eye I pushed my breasts together with my arms. His eyes flicked to my chest and I saw his cheeks redden just a bit before he looked down at his cereal and took a hungry bite, as if by crunching hard on it he could banish me from sight. We would be separated in two days, both of us going to college, me as a freshman, my stepbrother as a junior. He shifted uncomfortably in the chair.
 

“Yeah? What?”
 

“What are you doing today?”
 

“I have to mow the back yard,” he yawned, “and finish packing up my stuff.”
 

Hearing word of him packing his things to go away made me sigh, and sigh harder when I realized I was doing it, too. I pictured how empty our house would feel with just Mom and Dad.
 

I kicked out my foot. My toes found the hard side of his calf and he pulled his leg back, glancing at me with annoyance.
 

“What?”
 

“I need you to do something,” I said, fluttering my eyelashes.
 

“What?”
 

“A favor.”
 

He took another bite of cereal and mumbled through it. “What kind of favor?”
 

“A very special favor.”
 

I leaned my head on my hand and watched him. He was desperately trying not to look up. I shifted and twisted in my chair so my top tightened over my chest. I tried to look as calm and collected as I could. As sophisticated as I could. As grown up as I could, much as I hate to say it. I needed him to see a woman when I asked him this. I got up, and I walked around the side of the table. I sat on the corner of the table beside his breakfast, prompting him to look up to me, which meant he swept his gaze up my body and the next to nothing that was covering it. I shifted my weight onto the table and crossed my legs, pulling one over the other, and gain he watched. I leaned over on one arm like a burlesque singer leaning on a piano.
 

I said, “I need you to fuck me.”
 

He jerked back from me like I was a hot oven. Then he stood up, swallowing roughly a mouthful of cereal and wiping the milk from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand.
 

“This is not funny,” he said.
 

“It’s not a joke,” I countered, standing to face him. I pushed out my chest and arched my back and stared into his eyes. “I can’t go to college a virgin.”
 

He sputtered and coughed. “I’m not hearing this.”
 

“Yes, you are,” I said, my voice straining. “Please, Chris. I need it.”
 

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” he said, “This isn’t funny, I.. Just go to your room.”
 

“You can’t send me to my room. You’re not Dad. Besides, I’m an adult, I don’t have to do what you say.”
 

I grabbed his wrist and he jerked out of it and grabbed mine, then the other. He stood there holding my wrists in his powerful hands, calloused from weight lifting and football play. His jaw worked up and down almost in time with the heaving of my chest as he stared at my breasts. His eyes rose up to meet mine and he abruptly let go of my arms, and they fell to my sides. I licked my lips and looked down. His stomach was sucking in hard with every breath, his body quivering with tension. His hard cock was swinging against his boxers like he’d stuffed something rigid down his shorts. The sight of his arousal made my body clench like a fist, and I felt the first prickles of new sweat on my brow and between my shoulder blades. I hooked my thumbs in the waistband of my panties.
 

Then he grabbed my arms and moved me out of his way, roughly. I stumbled and fell back into my chair as he stalked up the stairs, without looking back at me. He vanished into his bedroom with a hollow clap of his slamming door, and I sat there struck dumb, staring after him until he opened them again and came out in swim trunks and ratty old sneakers with half the eyelets missing and big scratched up sunglasses. He walked past me without saying anything into the back porch. I heard the door slam. I heard the dull, distant cough of the lawn mower struggling to life with throaty urgency. I sat there in my underwear feeling the cotton clinging to my sex with my arousal and felt tears welling up in my eyes. I’d been thinking about him this way for years, and I’d always been afraid to act. I wanted him to be my first, I truly did.
 

I got up and stumbled up the stairs, pushed my door opened, and cried to the tune of the lawnmower moving through the back yard. The way the droning sound grew far and near was almost angry. I imagined him stomping through the grass, gritting his teeth and choking the bar in his hands as he walked and kicked through the grass clippings. I could feel his anger at me through the walls. Hugging my pillow to my chest, I curled up in a ball and lay there, waiting, wondering how I could possibly get past this. There was no turning back from what I just did.
 

The whole time he was outside, I lay there, thinking and over thinking, spiraling down into the depths of my own mind. I barely heard the creak of the bedroom door as his shadow passed over me onto he wall. I looked over my shoulder and there he was, bare chested and covered in sweat, his thick curls plaited to his head with moisture from the August heat. He had both hands resting on the door frame, like he was trying to push it out of his way. I turned over, still hugging the pillow to myself, and looked at him.
 

“I’m sorry,” I croaked, as if that could put it all away.
 

He didn’t say anything. He walked across my bedroom in quick strides and ripped the pillow out of my grasp and threw it down on the bed. He took my shoulders in his hands and turned me onto my back, and pushed me down hard, pinning me to the mattress. Then he leaned down and brought his lips to mine. My heart fluttered in my chest and my eyes shot open wide in shock as my mind caught up to my body. All at once I was are of every inch of skin, every part of my body, from the sheets sliding against the small of my back where my top had ridden up as I lay writhing on the bed to the feeling of the cotton gliding against my thighs as I instinctively spread my legs out under them and slid them across the bed, letting one calf dangle off the edge. His hands slid down my arms, trailing electric head behind them as they pinned my wrists to the bed. He smelled like grass and sweat and his tongue slid into my mouth.
 

I groaned back into his mouth as the kiss deepened and grew hungry, like he mean to swallow me. The aggression of it was shocking. He had my wrists pinned down next to my head as he lowered his weight onto me, chasing the chill of the air conditioned room away as the heat passed from his body into mine and pooled between my legs, thrumming with urgency. He kissed me and kissed me until I had to wriggle out from under him to breathe in a sharp tangy bite of cold air, but that didn’t stop him. When I pulled my lips away to breathe he opened his mouth against my cheek, ran his tongue over my jaw, and sucked hard on my throat. I bucked under him and my legs shivered, my knees rising against him.
 

“Don’t give me a hickey!” I begged, wriggling, struggling against his grip on my wrists.
 

“You told me to fuck you,” he growled in my ear, pressing his lips to the lobe. “I’ll do whatever I want to you.”
 

I squirmed and writhed under him but he had me. He pushed down into the bed and sprang up, pulling me with him. As I lifted off the bed he twisted and then he had me on his side, and he used his hip to nudge me onto my stomach, though to be fair I helped him just a little bit. His hand shot from my wrist to the back of my neck and he pinned me down on the bed, releasing my other hand, but I couldn’t reach him. His hot calloused fingers slipped under the hem of my tank top and he jerked it upwards, until my belly was against the cool sheets and only the soft weight of my breasts kept the cotton in place. At the same time, he jerked down my panties, until the waistband slid over the hump of my tensed ass and clamped around my legs. I felt a rush of air before his hand hit my ass with a loud cracking slap and I jerked against his hand, crying out.
 

“Ow!” I squeaked, wriggling under him.
 

His hand gripped my ass cheek, squeezing the tender muscle in his fingers, and then he let go and his fingers shot up my side, dancing over my ribs. My scream turned into a gale of giggles as his fingers send waves of shocks through my body.
 

“S-s-stop it,” I gasped, my voice choked with involuntary laughter.
 

“Stop what?”
 

“Tickling me,” I croaked, laughing so hard I could barely breathe.
 

“What’s that?” he said. “Tickle you?”
 

“No!” I squealed, but he tickled me harder. He had no need to pin me down, now. My whole body was shaking and jerking as he savaged me with both hands. It felt like his fingers were everywhere, and he knew all the spots. Along my ribs, the flat of my belly, and the small of my back. I grew frantic, gasping for air, and finally I grabbed his wrist and managed to hold on, and he stopped. I lay there panting and blinking away tears of laughter, giggles bursting out of my mouth as the aftershocks spread through me, even as he stopped tickling.
 

“I can’t breathe,” I gasped, “I can’t breathe.”
 

“Oh,” he said, “Well, that just means I have to do
this
.”
 

Ignoring my shocked cry, he seized me by the hips and turned me over, my legs flung apart by the momentum. That worked for him, as he grabbed my knees and dragged me to the edge of the bed, pushing them together as he dragged my panties up and over my ankles and tossed them out of the way. I squeaked in alarm, my voice strained and rough from laughing so heard, my heart beating a drum in my chest as he pushed and my legs fell open, spreading before him. I cried out and curled up and threw my hand in an instinctive motion to cover myself, but he had my wrist in his firm grip, and then the other, standing over me. He stared into my eyes hard, pointedly, then slowly looked down and licked his lips.
 

“Look at what we have here,” he said.
 

My jaw worked without sound. Every breath spread heat from my middle that raced around my body and pooled between my legs.
 

“It’s my sister’s pussy. What should I do with my sister’s pussy?”

He looked up at me, then down again. “Maybe I should lick it. It’s so fuzzy.”
 

“Hey,” I squeaked, “I-“
 

He let go of my wrists and dropped down to one knee, pulling my legs over his shoulders in the process. I felt his breath on my pussy, hot and moist, and thought
oh God, this is it.
His breath grew hotter as he leaned in, and I heard him take in a long, deep breath.
 

“It smells wonderful,” he said, his face so close that I could almost feel his lips moving as he spoke. “It’s so cute.”
 

“I have a cute pussy,” I squeaked, laughing at the absurdity of it, laughter that made me feel the tickling again and my whole body shuddered.
 

“Have you ever had your pussy licked?”
 

“No.”
 

“Oh,” he said, “So this is my pussy.”
 

“Yes,” I said, giggling. “Are you going to lick it, or not?”
 

He dragged his tongue over my slit, and I arched back into the bed, shuddering as my eyes went unfocused. It was nothing like when I touched myself, nothing at all.
 

“How was that?”
 

“Don’t just
stop”,
I cried, arching and undulating before him.
 

“It’s all red. I wonder what will happen if I keep licking it.”
 

Roughly, he pulled his tongue over my slit again, and then again and again, wetting my skin until it felt cool as he drew back, making the heat of his tongue all the more shocking. I melted into the bed, my arms going as limp as my legs as they crossed over his back and pulled him into me, his tongue exploring every inch of my folds. He pulled back and gave my lower lips a soft kiss and said, “What’s this?”