My Brother Adam Pt. 01

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This is Part I of a two-part story. I hope you like it. All characters are over 18 years of age.


I come from a nice family. My father is a psychiatrist and my mother does something complicated for a Silicon Valley firm. We live in a really nice suburb of San Francisco, in the hills, down the Peninsula. But the most important aspect of my life is that I have a twin brother.

My twin brother and I are quite different. My brother did not do particularly well at school early on, and he was held back a year, until he learned to read. So as not to emasculate him, my father the shrink decided I too should repeat first grade. As a consequence, we were both always one year older than our friends in our class.

My father tried to explain to me about psychological emasculation when I was six years old. He used dolls, and cut off the balls of a male doll. My takeaway was that if I were to be promoted to second grade along with everyone else, my brother would have to be mutilated. Not wanting that, the empathetic sweetheart that I was, as I played with my Barbie dolls, I proudly repeated first grade with my brother. And I made damn sure he learned to read.

After that, my brother and I were always exceptionally close. People called us the twins in two senses: metaphorical, and real. I took care of my brother, always watching out for him, until around puberty. At puberty, we reversed roles: he took care of me, always looking out for me, protecting me from any danger, real or perceived.

None of this was conscious. It simply grew out of affection, and as my brother grew and began to tower over me, he simply began to look out for me. I was now his “little sister,” even though we were of course the exact same age.

I did well in school, but once my brother learned to read, he turned out to be brilliant. It seemed he was good at everything: all academic subjects, and sports, too. I was really proud of him, and he helped me with my math homework on a regular basis.

I’m now 18 years old. I’m very short: just around 5 feet with no inches, and I have huge boobs. I got my boobs before my friends, possibly due to the extra year of age I have. Anyway, boys noticed. It’s hard not to notice because they are so big, and of course the girls noticed, too. I learned the power of civil engineering early on when my mother found brassieres for me that could hold up my boobs and spare my aching back.

I also had menstrual cramps from hell, so my father put me on birth control pills, and that did a lot to ease the cramps. The pills also had the side effect of removing my fear of sex. My parents sent the two of us to camp in the summer. I went to a music camp, and my brother went to a sports camp. My junior year in high school I met a boy at camp and fell in love. I now know such love is “puppy love,” but nobody could have told me that then.

As for the boy, he did not fall in love with me. No, he fell in love with my boobs. We had to sneak around at camp to find enough privacy so that he could undress me and fondle my boobs. I liked it too, but what I really liked was having such a great boyfriend, and the way he kissed. My boyfriend Peter was smart as a whip, and funny. He made me laugh. I was happy in his presence. Peter thought he was older and wiser, because he was a grade ahead of me, but I quietly knew we were the same age.

When camp ended, we went to our respective homes. Peter and I were both 18 at this point, but Peter assumed I was only 16 or 17, since I was in the 11th grade. He lived in northern California, across the bay from San Francisco, but way east, where the fog could not reach. This meant it was a 90 minute drive, or a two-hour drive with traffic, from his family’s house to mine. He would make the drive to come over, we would play a duet for my parents (I played the flute, he played the clarinet), and then he would take me to dinner, or to the movies, or to both. At the end of the date we would park somewhere and make out.

One time when we were making out, and he had me undressed completely (and I do mean completely: I was naked) we were surprised by a cop. In the fancy suburb where my family lived nobody parked on the street, so someone had noticed a parked car and assumed we were burglars. That same someone had called the cops.

The cop came to the car and shined a powerful flashlight on us and got a good look at my boobs as I scrambled to cover up. I grabbed the first thing I found which was Peter’s shirt. We had to leave the car. We stood in the street as we showed the cop our IDs. The cop told Peter to put his shirt on, and without thinking I took off his shirt to give it to him, royally exposing myself in my full nudity to the cop.

Okay, okay. No woman becomes naked “without thinking.” I knew exactly what I was doing. But I had deniability. I was just following the orders from an officer of the law. For some reason I did not understand at the time, I wanted to maltepe escort do that. What can I say? I was a teenager, and at that age one does what one wants to do, right? Reality, sanity, and maturity all take a back seat to desire.

The cop smiled, and he said, “You cover up too, little lady.” Something triggered in me. I was enjoying the reactions I was getting: horror from Peter, and bemusement from the cop. In addition, I could see movement of a curtain from the house that probably called the cops. Some unknown asshole was seeing me standing there naked. I loved it.

So, I took my sweet time. First I bent into the car, showing off my ass and pussy to the copy, in order to find my panties. I turned to face the cop, giving him a full frontal, smiled, and slowly, oh so slowly, pulled up my panties, giving him time to survey my body, assuming he wanted to do so. This was a warranted assumption. He took a good look. Both the cop and Peter knew I had taken much longer than I had needed to. The cop was smiling. Peter was not.

The obvious next thing to do would have been to put on my bra. But I was convinced at the time that my boobs were my biggest asset, so instead I rooted around for my skirt inside the car. I again bent over, this time to show off my panty clad ass. I found my skirt easily, of course. Grabbing my skirt, I stood straight up, again facing the cop. This gave the cop another great opportunity to check out my well-endowed mammary glands.

The cop obliged, you might say. I put on my skirt, turned to present my back to Peter, and asked him to zip up my skirt. It was obvious to both men that I could easily have zipped it up myself. But asking Peter delayed things, allowing another precious minute to expose myself. This was not just for the cop, but was also for the benefit of the mystery voyeur in the house overlooking our car. My boobs bounced around and my nipples were hard as rocks due to the chilly night air.

Next I slowly looked for my bra. I found it quickly enough, of course. I turned around and asked Peter to hook it, with my back to Peter and my front to the cop. I smiled at the cop as he enjoyed the view of my boobs. Once the bra was on, it was only then that I slipped on my top. This kept my boobs exposed to Peter and the cop as long as possible.

The cop told us that we could not park in this neighborhood: A parked car looked too suspicious. The streets in this fancy neighborhood were narrow, and no other cars were parked on the street. He suggested that Peter take me home.

I was so turned on after that I was ready to have sex for the first time. But Peter did not know that, and I did not tell him. Plus, Peter still thought I was underage. He wanted to become a U.S. Senator or something like that, so he was not about to risk his future by having sex with a 16 or a 17-year-old. I did not know his thinking just then, or I would have told him that I was 18. Anyway, it was already close to midnight, and Peter still had the long drive to his home.

My senior year, my twin brother Adam did extra work to finish high school early. He was 19, so without telling my parents, or even me, he quietly enlisted in the army. Our parent’s reaction was severe. It contained, among other things, all of shock, dismay, and horror. But there was nothing they could do. My father pulled some strings and Adam was shipped off to Japan, rather than to the war zones of the middle east.

Personally, I understood my parents’ fear that harm would come to Adam. But I myself was once again proud of him, and proud of his patriotism. Nobody need have worried about him, though. The Army soon realized how smart Adam is and he was put in a secret cyber warfare unit, safely tucked away in Okinawa.

Once Adam was gone, my mother suggested that when Peter came, he could spend the night, and he could sleep in Adam’s room, which was right next to mine. She was worried Peter would have an accident on the long drive home, late at night. The bedrooms were side by side down in the basement, far from my parents. Their house was on three levels, built into a hill. My parents’ bedroom was two floors above mine and Adam’s. This was great, because now we could make out to our heart’s content, without fear of being rousted by a cop or a pervert.

You cannot join the army on your own unless you are 18. Since Adam is my twin, suddenly Peter knew for sure I was at least 18. He became much more sexually aggressive. This pleased me no end.

My mother was neither stupid nor naïve. She knew at our age Peter and I would be obsessed with sex. She was simply making it easy for us to indulge ourselves, and without risk from perverts or cops.

Nevertheless, my mother warned me not to let him make love with me. “He’ll lose respect for you and never marry you if you have sex before marriage,” she told me. Warned by my mother, and not wanting Peter to lose respect for me, I resisted Peter’s sexual mecidiyeköy escort overtures for quite a while, but soon we were naked making out at every visit. Peter was fingering me, and I was giving him hand jobs. My friends were beginning to have sex with boys, and naturally enough Peter was always trying to put it inside me. I would always squirm away.

One time I surprised him, and I let him get inside me. I don’t know why I let him just then. I just did. He was thrilled beyond reason. After that, we had sex all the time. I loved it, but Peter might have loved it even more. Peter graduated high school and went off to an elite college in the East somewhere. I was left alone for a month before I was to head to my college in Santa Cruz. That month is when my brother Adam came home.

Peter’s letters began to arrive less frequently, and they became less affectionate. I figured he had found an East Coast girl. I hear they’re pretty sexy out East, and hot to trot. Peter was accustomed to enjoying my charms on a regular basis, and I figured he would not be able to make the transition to chastity to wait for me, even if he had wanted to. I also knew he did not want to. I knew I was losing him, but as my Mom said, there are plenty of fish in the sea.

“What about overfishing?” I asked. “The sardines in Monterrey Bay never recovered from the over fishing from last century, you know.”

“It’s just a metaphor,” my Mom said, with a smile. She knew I was teasing. But it helped. When she said fish, I imagined cock shaped fish. It’s not much of a stretch: If you visit the Monterrey aquarium, you’ll see what I mean. Sardines look like cocks. Little tiny cocks to be sure, but still…With Peter gone, I was seeing sexual symbols everywhere. I needed to do something!

I was glad Adam returned. It was great to see my twin again, and we hung out together, as thick as thieves. We told each other everything, and that included frank talk about sex. Most of my sexual knowledge came from my times with Peter, although I had made out with some boys behind his back, of course, on those weekends when he did not make the drive to see me. Peter was the only boy I had slept with, though. Talking with Adam, I realized I knew very little, and that the only exciting thing I had done, to use Adam’s word, was “to fuck my little brains out.” There was a whole other sexual world out there, waiting to be explored.

I was horny. I was going through sexual withdrawal. Talking about sex all the time with Adam gave me some kind of relief. I needed it, too. The relief was all virtual, but it nevertheless was a help.

Adam had slept with dozens of Japanese women. They were not romances; he had paid for their services. He had wanted to learn, however, and they had taught him lots of tricks for enhanced sexual experiences, shall we say. So, Adam was quite knowledgeable as to the ways of the sexual world. He shared some of his knowledge, and I hung on his every word.

I was eager to try some of these ideas out, and he was eager to have sex with an American girl who was not a prostitute. We talked about it incessantly. No high school boys wanted to ask me out, because I was taken: I was Peter’s girl, and they all knew that. Adam knew that, too, of course.

I was ready to cheat on Peter. I was even eager to cheat on him, as a defense for his cheating on me. But I needed a male partner, and none of my timid high school male friends realized that.

One particularly hot summer day, our family went to the beach. Swimsuits were always an issue with me, due to my much too large boobs. I wore a two piece, but my boobs seemed to spill out of my top. I thought it was disgusting, but the guys always thought it was hyper sexy. I had given up, and just wore the suit at the beach, spilling boobs and all.

Adam told me I looked great. He said the Japanese women he knew all had small boobs. “It’s nice to be stateside again,” he said, looking right at my chest.

“I guess you like my body, don’t you, Adam?” I asked.

“Mary, if you were not my sister, I would try every trick I could find to seduce you. Just looking at you makes me hard,” Adam said.

I looked down there and saw he was speaking the truth. “I see what you mean,” I said, looking straight at the lump in his swim trunks. “I have a place that would love to go, were you not my brother. Life is just not fair, I guess. Thanks for the complement, Adam. I think you’re hot, too.”

We walked a long way down the beach, and then braved the relatively cold water of northern California. After a while my teeth were chattering and my lips were purple, and Adam grabbed me “to warm me up.” He wrapped his arms around me and warmed me with his body, but his arms were actually wrapped around my boobs.

We got out of the water, and I sarcastically said, “Thanks for saving my life, bro.” Adam smiled.

“You have great boobs, sis,” Adam replied. He knew I merter escort was referring to how he warmed me by feeling up my boobs.

“Yes, so I am told. Peter, and a few guys in high school, really like them,” I said.

“I think it’s cool you fool around behind Peter’s back. Good for you, sis,” Adam said.

“Well, I only fuck with Peter,” I said. “That is, so far,” I said, as I looked again at the tent in Adam’s trucks, and thought about the absence of affection and passion in Peter’s most recent letters.

We teased each other mercilessly that day at the beach. It was fun, but meaningless. Adam is my brother, after all. There was one moment, however, that foretold future events, although I did not realize it then. At one point, Adam offered to show me his erect cock, if I would flash my boobs and let him fondle them.

You have to understand, we had been sexually joking around all day at the beach, and for at least a week before we got to the beach. I don’t know why, but I said okay. We found a secluded spot. Adam dropped his trunks, revealing a magnificent and gorgeous cock. It was every bit as nice as Peter’s, and it had the extra plus of being out in the open sea air.

It’s main advantage, however, was that it was right in front of me, and not inside some East Coast girl somewhere far across the country.

The smell of the ocean’s air, the sound of the crashing waves, the feel of the warm sand under our feet, combined to make this a highly erotic moment for me. I had trouble breaking my hypnotic stare at his cock. Adam’s was only the fourth cock I had ever seen.

The other three belonged to Peter, plus two nice high school boys: Troy and Sam. Those boys I had given hand jobs, so of course I had to see their erect cocks. In fact, they had all wanted blowjobs, but there was no way I was ever going to put a man’s penis in my mouth. Gross.

Adam got behind me, undid the top, and enveloped my boobs inside his eager hands. He caressed my boobs as if they were the treasures of the Sierra Madre. This really turned me on. While he caressed my boobs, he pushed his hard cock up against my back (Adam is much taller than I am; everyone is).

That’s when I saw that there were two men watching our little show. I flashed back to when the cop had discovered Peter and me and I had behaved strangely, seemingly wanting to let the cop see as much of me, and especially of my boobs, as was possible. I felt the same way now.

“We’re being watched, Mary,” Adam said, his voice nervous.

“I know,” I said. “Don’t freak out, little brother, but that turns me on,” I said. Sometimes when I feel affectionate with Adam, I call him my little brother, since he is 10 inches taller than I am. He is much heavier, too, being naturally muscular. He is one sexy son of a bitch brother.

“Cool,” Adam said, and he removed his hands, so the two men could see my boobs without impediments. “Want to give them a little show?”

“What do you mean?” I asked, in my most coquettish voice.

“Well, you could taste my cock if you like. It should taste yummy in the salt air?” Adam suggested, knowing the magnitude of what he was suggesting. “You told me you have never sucked a cock, remember? You must be curious how they taste, I should think.”

“So … it will be for science? And for the theater, with our two voyeurs as the audience?” I asked sarcastically. Suddenly, my brain flipped: Adam’s cock in my mouth seemed sexy, and not gross at all.

“Yeah. But it would be incest, too. The voyeurs would not know that, of course. Does the presence of the voyeurs turn you on, my perverted little hush puppy? Or is it the incest angle? Or is it just my cock?” He wiggled his cock for me. Adam calls me “hush puppy” when he feels especially affectionate. It’s a long story, going back to when we were both 7 years old. I will spare you that story.

“Yes. Yes, it all does. I realize it only now, but apparently you have one sick, twisted little hush puppy on your hands, little brother” I replied. I turned around to face Adam, and I dropped to my knees.

“You should do it nude, you know. It doubles the effect,” Adam said.

“Which effect? For the voyeurs, or for the blowee?” I asked, my voice making me sound as if I were the paragon of innocence.

“It’s hard to say who’d like it more, Mary. I think it’s a win-win. What do you say?”

I stood back up. I very slowly lowered my bathing suit bottoms, revealing my most intimate parts to my twin brother and also to the voyeurs. I gave my pussy a quick stroke with my finger, for emphasis, and then I dropped to my knees for the second time. I was nude on the beach and facing my brother’s cock, with two men watching.

To say I was wet would be an impressive understatement. My brother had just seen my adult pussy for the first time. I knew that, and he knew that. The atmosphere was charged something fierce.

Adam moved over to the side, so the voyeurs could watch in profile. First I kissed the swollen purple head of his maximally engorged cock. Then I licked the side, the way one licks a lollipop. I cupped his balls in my hand, gently stroking them. I teased him a long time, licking and slobbering on his balls, and licking the sides of his cock.

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