Helping Sis Pick A Dress

by Lubrican

Chapters : 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8

Chapter Six

I started hearing a lot more of Cathy whispering, "We're pushing it, so pull out," though I didn't perceive it as her saying it "a lot more." I'll be honest, I never thought about her fertility. I always assumed that, if she let me go in her, she was safe. Cathy was just as addicted to sex as I was, though, and when given the choice between having oral sex, and having intercourse, she chose intercourse a lot of times she should have gone the other way. I'm not trying to make it sound like birth control is all the woman's responsibility. We were adolescents, and adolescents use bad judgment a lot more often than we will later in life. That's why we're not allowed to vote until we're eighteen. Most of us probably shouldn't be allowed anywhere near a voting booth until we're twenty-one, but that's a different issue.

Anyway, one night, she whispered that I needed to pull out, so I did, and flopped onto my back, and her hand was right there to take care of me. She was an expert at jerking me off by now. Now, on this particular night, she had come to my room on her way to bed, which meant she said "Good night" to Mom and Dad, who happened to be home that night, and then, instead of going to her room, came to mine. She was dressed, of course, but it didn't take long for her to get naked. We left the light off because you could see the bottom of my bedroom door from the dining room and either one of them might walk through the dining room on the way to the kitchen to get a snack or whatever.

So this should give you some idea of how rocky our sexual boat was. She didn't even wait for them to go to bed, much less get to sleep, before she was naked with me on top of her, fucking her lustily. She knew I'd give her an orgasm before I came, and she would rather have that orgasm with my penis in her, than my tongue. So she got her penis-induced orgasm and then told me I had to pull out.

Then, because it was dark in my room, while she was jerking on my bone, and I came, she couldn't see, and a blob of my cum plopped right into her open mouth. I didn't know this, because I couldn't see, either. All I knew was that her hand stopped, suddenly, and her grip on my cock hardened. She made a spitting sound at the same time she tried to whisper, "Shit!" Then she just kind of froze. Her hand disappeared from my penis, which was finished squirting by then, but she didn't move. Using my keen senses, I deduced something was amiss.

"What's wrong?" I whispered, thinking she might have heard something that led her to believe a parent was near. That will show you how stupid I was. I thought she might have heard a parent, and I was making noise that parent might hear.

"It got in my mouth," she whispered back.

"What?"

"Some of your stuff got in my mouth."

I had been trying to get her to leave her mouth on me when I came. She sucked my cock like she loved it, which was true. She did love having my penis in her mouth. What she was afraid of was having a bad reaction and ruining the moment. Plus, I had no bathroom in my bedroom, like she did. I had to use the bathroom in the hall, which Mom called the guest bathroom. Cathy, by virtue of being a girl, got the good bedroom, which had its own bathroom. Since we almost always engaged in oral sex in my room, if she stayed on, and then threw up, it would make a mess somewhere.

So she had never tasted my semen. Now it had gotten in her mouth, in the dark, when she wasn't expecting it, and she'd had to deal with it. Happily, she didn't throw up. If she'd done that, it probably would have been all over my stomach and my bed. And then I'd have thrown up, and for sure we'd have made enough noise to draw parental attention, and the world might have actually ended.

Instead, she decided it tasted weird, but not bad.

She did not tell me this.

"You okay?" I whispered.

"Yeah," she replied. She got up. "I can't see my clothes."

"Want me to turn on a light?"

"No. They might see it. And it would ruin my night vision."

I started to say, "You mean the night vision that isn't working well enough right now for you to find your clothes?" but I bit my lip.

The next day we couldn't talk about it, so I didn't know until that night that she wanted to get more of my semen in her mouth to confirm that it was completely different (and less yucky) than she thought it would be.

On that night she did wait until our parents were in bed. She waited so long I thought she wasn't coming, in fact. But she wanted to be able to have the light on, because she was planning on finishing with me in her mouth. Plus, she sat on the edge of my bed and talked about what she was going to do. She was still worried she'd toss, but not as much. She even brought her plastic trash can so that if she did throw up, she could take it back to her room on the run. She did not let me put it in her that night, but that made sense to me. She was leery already about getting my body fluids in her mouth. If she let me fuck her first, then her body fluids would be on it too when I pulled out. We didn't talk about this, but I suspect that's what she was thinking about. If I sucked her pussy, before I kissed her I wiped my mouth off on the sheets.

Yeah, I actually thought that would remove both her scent and taste completely. And I had no idea that she'd tasted her own fingers after rubbing off, way back when she was twelve. I guess that's not the kind of thing you tell your lover about.

Anyway, it was actually kind of anticlimactic. She jerked on me, and sucked the tip, and I told her I was going to cum, and she put her lips in the valley, right behind the head of my dick, and I shot off. Her eyes got big, and she blinked a lot as she sat up. I really only got two spurts in her mouth before she sat up. Her hands flapped a little bit, like chicken wings, but then she closed her eyes and swallowed and opened her mouth again and just breathed. Her eyes opened and she looked at me.

"It's different," she said.

"Different?"

"Than last night."

"Okay," I said.

"Better," she said.

"That's good, right?"

She looked at me and I could see the change in her eyes. They looked smoky, somehow, or maybe hungry.

"We won't be making a mess on your stomach anymore," she whispered.

Then she got naked and insisted I suck her pussy.

After that night, oral sex was better. Sort of.

I qualify that because we still didn't communicate well enough to avoid some pitfalls.

For example, in the past, she'd let me go in her and then, when I pulled out, she jacked me off. That felt good, but not nearly as good as if I shot off inside her. Had I known she'd be willing to suck me off after I pulled out, I might not have pushed the envelope so much before pulling out. As a result, I got a lot of semen either in her, or on her pussy lips as I pulled out.

That made her unhappy. Worrying about whether her period will start (or not) is very different for the boy than it is for the girl. A boy might think about it for a few seconds, think, "I hope it happens," and then go back to thinking about whatever. The girl, though, thinks about it all day, and about just how much her life could change (for the worse) if her friend doesn't show up. And we were getting careless enough that she worried about that almost every month. It added to her PMS symptoms. Ironically enough, later in life, our mother would tell us that's why she thought everything was normal between us. Once a month my sister screamed at me for little infractions. What Mom didn't know was that, after screaming at me because I moved her books while she was doing homework, later that night she'd suck my dick and try to pull my balls out of my body through my dick.

It was nowhere near a love/hate relationship, but it got rough when she was worried her friend might skip out on her. It just goes to show you how helpless lovers can become. We knew when we shouldn't engage in unsafe practices, but we couldn't make ourselves abstain.

Don't get me wrong. We tried. We went so far as to make a rule that one of us always had to be dressed when it was during the oral sex only time of the month. That was supposed to serve two purposes. First, I had been known to get stiff again quite quickly. That meant that, if she sucked me off, making me harmless, while I sucked her off, I got hard again. Then, more often than not, I got it in her and that usually led to getting sperm where she didn't want it. If I sucked her off first, there I was, ready to rock and roll, while she was emotionally vulnerable and happy, and her pussy was all too eager to have something nice and hard and long stuffed in it. I was a fucking horn dog who always preferred to fuck her, as opposed to some other method of emptying my ball sack, so I was no help at all, when it came to avoiding unsafe sex.

If I had clothes on, however, and my unruly little friend was covered up, then it couldn't get into mischief. And if she was dressed, then my stiff, eager little buddy couldn't "accidentally" get in her while we kissed.

The other reason we made this rule was because, if oral sex was going on like that, and we got caught, it seemed more likely that our excuse for doing this would be believed. That excuse was that we were "learning how to do this to keep from being pressured into having intercourse on dates."

If that's not idiotic enough, did anybody notice that, under this system, only one half of the pair got satisfied?

See why we shouldn't be able to vote?

How we managed to go the rest of the school year without getting Cathy pregnant will forever be a mystery. I had a lot of "accidents" and she didn't seem to know how to say, "No, Bobby. Not right now. It's too dangerous."

If she stayed in her room, I snuck in there. I admit she did say, "Noooooo," softly a whole bunch of times, but if I kept coming she made room for me on her bed. And she kissed me. And she let me finger her and suck her nipples. And if she didn't stop kissing me and go down there to suck the firmness out of my banana, then eventually I'd roll on top of her and if she didn't reach to guide me, I'd wiggle around until I felt heat around the tip of my prod, and then jerk forward.

These days, a lot of women would say I forced her, or intimidated her or some such thing, but that never happened. What happened was that her smart part told her to resist, and her lusty part wanted an orgasm. It was that simple.

This is why a lot of women, primarily teenagers, have undesired pregnancies.

And my role in all this?

Well, I was a male, and males everywhere, of all species, try to mate as often as they're allowed to. Our lusty side wants to have orgasms, too.

At any rate, there were roughly five times that winter when neither of us felt frisky. Those were the times when she felt like her friend should have arrived already and was delayed for reasons unknown. Maybe her friend got stuck in traffic a lot. Or maybe she just didn't have a handle on what time her friend had said he'd (she'd?) arrive. We didn't know that the stress of worrying is sometimes enough to throw a cycle off for a few days.

And then she'd start, and suddenly it was worry-free and completely safe, and we made up for all the time we'd missed being worried. And a new twenty-eight days would start all over again.

Then, in early June, she went to her first slumber party of the summer and everything changed.

She had a friend named Gina, a kind of bookish, nerdy girl, who if you saw her in school didn't look like the kind of girl all the popular girls would hang out with. And, for the most part, they didn't ... in public. But outside of school she was highly sought after as a "friend". Cathy was somewhat bookish herself. She got asked out by a lot of guys, but I think that was more because she was pretty and had big boobs, than because these guys all just craved being with her for the great conversation they expected to have. Most guys didn't ask her out more than two or three times. She'd kiss them for hours and get them hard as rock, but that was all she ever let happen. She might not have any control when it came to me, but she had control in spades on dates.

Anyway, Cathy and Gina ate lunch together sometimes, and Gina invited her to a sleepover and promised it would be fun, so Cathy went. It turned out some of the popular girls were there, too, but it wasn't to pursue friendships with either Cathy or Gina.

Gina's dad was a doctor, and she had filched a couple of his prescription pads. Not only that, she was really good at forging her father's signature.

For twenty bucks, you could get a prescription for anything you wanted except scheduled drugs. Those were too closely looked at.

But birth control?  Have at it, sisters. She'd write those all night long.

Gina also knew a lot about the different kinds of birth control because her dad had all the literature. He had a pile of articles and pamphlets various pharma reps gave him, that gathered on a table, and which he read when he had a chance. Unknown to him, Gina read some of that stuff, too, and especially anything to do with birth control.

Which is why at this sleepover, when my sister indicated an interest in birth control, she came home with a prescription for the ring.

I didn't know about the vast majority of birth control options for women. I knew about the pill, and condoms. And the rhythm method and withdrawal, of course. But I had no idea there were other things on the market. Cathy didn't know, either, until Gina gave a mini seminar at her sleepover. Cathy said it was crazy. There they were, a bunch of teenage girls, sitting in a half circle, finding out there was a plastic coil-looking thing which, if implanted in a woman's womb, not only kept her from getting pregnant, but in many cases it stopped her from having periods completely. And that lasted for up to five years! Of course none of the girls opted for that one. First off, a doctor had to put it in. Second, it cost like fifteen hundred bucks, or something like that.

What Cathy chose was the ring. I had never heard of this, either. It was exactly what its name implies; a flexible ring of rubbery material. This ring is impregnated with chemicals that are released into the body through the vaginal wall. It's about two inches across and all you have to do is shove it up in the vagina and leave it there for three weeks.

Cathy was all excited when she got home and told me about all this, but there were a couple of things she was kind of vague on. The pharmacist who handed her the first set of them explained how to use it, which was good, because it wasn't quite as "trouble free" as the company liked to say it was.

First off, it had to be inserted on either the day your period started, or the fifth day after your period started. There was a little dildo looking tool you used to push it up inside with. But there was more. If you inserted it at eight A.M. on a Monday, then you had to take it out at 8 A.M. three Mondays later. Not nine or ten o'clock, but right at eight. And not on Tuesday. Nope. If you started on a Monday, Monday was your day forever more. Once you removed it, you didn't put a new one in for one week, during which you (probably) had a period. Using the scenario already established, if you did have a period, and it wasn't finished by eight A.M. on the Monday after you took the last one out, then you put a new one in anyway.

We didn't notice until after we had already violated this rule that, if you weren't already on hormonal birth control when you started, you had to wait seven to ten days before having unprotected sex before the ring became effective. You were also supposed to check before and after intercourse to make sure it was still in there. The penis could drag it out under just the right (wrong?) conditions. I got pretty good at feeling for it before intercourse, but we never checked it afterwards. I mean wouldn't it be obvious if a two inch ring of rubber was lying on the bed between her legs?

I won't lie. We were not well-informed about how all this worked. I just provided a lot of information, but some of that didn't sink into my brain until I was in college and I really started paying attention. We were pretty stupid about things, back then, but I suspect you've already figured that out.

There were two other things we were stupid about. You know all those annoying commercials on TV where they hawk this or that miracle cure and always say, "Ask your doctor if XYZ is right for you!"? Well, it turns out it's a really good idea to actually ask your doctor about things before you start medicating your body. Take, for example, the fact that we were supposed to make sure Cathy didn't have several health issues before she started using the ring. Thankfully, she didn't have any of them, but if she had, it could have gone very badly.

The other thing we were stupid about (meaning we didn't think about it at all), was that drugs aren't free. The ring costs between $30 and $200 per month, depending on where you get it and what kind of health insurance you have. Did we think about health insurance? Nope. Whenever we needed medicine, Mom went to the pharmacy and it magically appeared. Obviously, Mom wasn't going to the pharmacy for this medication, though, so Cathy went, herself.

I want you to imagine the pharmacist, faced with a fifteen-year-old girl, who hands him a paper prescription (instead of an electronic one, which they almost all are these days) and calmly (or what she thinks is calmly) asks for her birth control. And when she gets it, and the pharmacist politely asks, "Have you ever used this before?" she gets all red and stammers and shakes her head and won't look at him.  So he explains how to use it and packs it into a little white paper bag with strips of paper stapled to it. Then he says there's a fifteen dollar co-pay.

Luckily Cathy had fifteen dollars on her. It could have blown up in our faces, but luck was with us that day. I'm proud to say I inserted Cathy's very first ring as she lay naked on her bed. Then I made sure it got deep in her by pushing it in with my penis, which happily washed it off with sperm when the time came.

And what time did we insert it? Well, for one thing, it was ten at night. And it wasn't on the first day of her period, either. Nor was it on the fifth day after her period started.

In other words, we fucked things up royally.

Again, though, luck was with us. Lady luck really liked us, let me tell you that. Cathy actually read all the fine print the next day and found out we had screwed up. On the happy side of things, though, she didn't have high blood pressure, didn't smoke, didn't have kidney or liver disease and didn't have any clotting issues going on.

So, I took it out of her and we stashed it until she had a period.

We didn't have sex until she had a period, either.

Believe it or not, neither of us felt like pushing things.

The reason Cathy chose the ring over the pill was because she didn't have to worry about doing something every day. For three weeks, we were care-free and fuck-friendly. And taking it out so she could have a period didn't bother us. We'd had menstrual sex dozens of times by then. She also didn't have a little container of pills lying around for Mom to accidentally find. Her extra rings could be kept behind some books on her book shelf.

So, once we got semi-educated about things, life was pretty good. It worked, meaning that I spurted in her every other day for three weeks and when I took the thing out of her, her period started the very next day. So, after that, we didn't worry. It was wonderful. That summer was one of my favorites of all time.

I turned eighteen and Cathy had her Sweet Sixteen birthday party, which was a hoot. Dad was all over this "Sweet sixteen and never been kissed" deal and he found decorations that said that. Then he made this certificate that said it could be awarded to the first boy she wanted to kiss her, and the boy had to get Dad's signature on it. It was good for one and only one kiss. It was hilarious. Cathy played her role perfectly, getting all embarrassed-looking and chastising him for talking about kissing and things. She even went, "Ewww, Daddy, that's disgusting!"

Dad wanted to believe she really hadn't been kissed. Mom raised one eyebrow at Cathy's behavior. Thank goodness she didn't look at me. I'm pretty sure my face would have given it all away that Daddy's little girl had been kissed plenty!

Mom didn't think anything about the fact that I offered to help Cathy with her driving practice. Technically, she was supposed to have someone 21 or older with her while she practiced, but the cops didn't pay attention to that unless somebody got in an accident or whatever. So we went out every day for Cathy to "practice driving."

And she did practice driving. We just practiced other things, too, like how to find a secluded place in the country and spread a blanket on the ground, and fuck like rabbits in the sun-lit open air. We also fucked in the car one day when it was raining, but that was way uncomfortable, and we decided it wasn't for us.

It was Cathy's idea for us to go to this place everybody had heard about, but nobody (we knew) had actually been to. It was called Blue Skies Resort and Spa and it was a clothing optional private lake. You had to be a member or have an invitation to get through the gates, which had a guard at them. It was about halfway between our town and Granite Springs, which was forty miles away, so neither our town nor Granite Springs claimed it as part of their business structure. It was a guilty pleasure for some folks in both towns, but they didn't advertise it.

When you're sneaking into a nudist place, it's more complicated than you might think. Take, for example, which day do you go? If you go on a weekend, there will be more people there, and it's less likely somebody will point at you and say, "Where's your invitation?!" On the other hand, if it's crowded and you see somebody you know, that could get super awkward. If you go during the week, there will be fewer people there and it's unlikely you'll see somebody you actually know. Or, more importantly, who knows you.

Then there's the problem that, before you get there, you'll look odd if you have no clothes on, and after you get there, you'll look odd if you do have clothes on. If you go in the main gate, that's not really an issue. You park your car and go to a dressing (or undressing) room and you look exactly like everybody expects you to look. We, however, had no invitation and weren't going in through the main gate.

Cathy's grand plan was to park on the opposite side of the lake, which was a farmer's corn field, and hike around to the woods beside Blue Skies. Then we'd get naked and get in the water and "wander back from having gone too far down the shoreline."

Of course when we got to the nice, sandy beach the owners of Blue Skies had imported, there would be no beach towel where we had left out phones, and sunscreen  and whatnot, and eventually we'd have to "wander too far" down the shoreline again to leave, but to two (admittedly) ignorant teenagers, it seemed like a fine plan.

These are the things that make memories, and I cannot recommend them highly enough for all people to think up and try to pull off. It was an adventure, I'll tell you that.

We went on a Friday afternoon. Our thought process was that it was the end of the work week, and adults would take it easy that afternoon and evening, and then go be nudists the next day. Also, people our age would be getting ready to go on dates, and were less likely to show up at a nudie beach. We were a little paranoid that we'd see somebody there we knew. We weren't worried about adults. Say we ran into Mr. Franklin, who is a deacon at church. He is just as invested in keeping things a secret as we are, you know? No, the thing we worried about was running into one of the kids from school, who might be willing to out themselves to be able to tell the tale of seeing Bobby and Cathy Parker together, stark naked, at a place nobody had invited them to. How juicy a piece of gossip would that be?

What actually happened was that we parked on the side of the road and went through the corn field, which was a lot bigger than it looked, and then had to try to negotiate thick brush and fallen-over trees to get around the edge of the lake. We were tired and sweaty and dirty when we got there, so the water felt really good when we got in. So then we began "wandering back" from where we had gone too far and found out it's impossible for people to wander off, because they build this big-ass fence that goes out into the water for fifty feet. Anybody going past that from the resort would have to do it on purpose. It also turns out they have a paid lifeguard on duty.

So we fucked in the water, out of sight of everybody at Blue Skies, and then went back to the car. The farmer was waiting for us, wanting to know why we were walking through his corn field. I told him Cathy had to pee, and I went to guard her while she was doing that. He snorted, but let us go without taking names and phone numbers. He kept looking at us like he was looking for something. I'm pretty sure he was looking for binoculars. Finding a car parked beside his corn field, across the lake from the nudist resort, wasn't his first rodeo.

But it was an adventure, and we made a memory. We also found out that making love in the water is not easy. Water washes away the body's natural lubrication. It also gave me an excuse to check her ring that night, which got me laid under much better conditions.

Again, that summer, we had the house to ourselves most of the day, and we spent a lot of time in bed. We weren't quite as driven, I think, and the quality of our lovemaking was less hurried, and more tuned to pleasing each other. The honeymoon was over, and sex wasn't as frenzied for us. I would happily suck Cathy's pussy for an hour, bringing her to a slow boil and then pushing her over the edge. Then, with no hurry, I'd crawl up, suck her nipples while I eased into her, and then leisurely fucked her happy pussy until I groaned and filled her up with Bobby cum.

Then school started again and Cathy got all maudlin. I was a senior, and that brought home to her that the following May, I would graduate and the August after that, I'd head off to college. She was already having withdrawal symptoms from what she was addicted to ... me.

I told her we had nine months left before I graduated. To me, that seemed like forever. I happened to be on top of her at the time, and for some reason my mind connected nine months of school to nine months of something else. Without thinking, I said, "If I got you pregnant tonight, you wouldn't have the baby until about the time I graduate."

Her legs wrapped around my butt and squeezed.

"Let's do it!" she hissed. "Let's take my ring out and make a baby!"

I stopped rocking on her. Obviously, she wasn't trying to have an orgasm. Apparently she was having a stroke, instead.

"Come on, Bobby," she moaned. "I love you. I want to have your baby!"

Now I pulled out of her. She tried to resist, but I was stronger than she was. I rolled to lie beside her, with my face right by hers.

"You want to tell me what's going on?" I asked.

I saw tears slide from the corner of her eye and run down the side of her head. She was staring at the ceiling. Finally she rolled to face me.

"You're leaving," she moaned.

"C'mon, Cat, not for almost a whole year," I groaned.

"I feel like the doctor just told us you have cancer and only have a year to live," she said, in dramatic fashion.

I stared at her.

"Cathy," I said, softly. "I'm going to be in your life forever. You won't be able to get rid of me. You're going to meet some guy, either this year, or when you go to college yourself, and you'll fall madly in love with him and be all annoyed because I'll keep coming around, wanting to be like this with you. And you'll say," (I tried to make my voice high, like hers), "'Bobby, I'm married! You can't keep trying to get in my panties, Bobby! Go find yourself a nice girl and get her into bed!'"

She tried not to smile, but did, probably because I sounded pretty ridiculous. Then the smile faded.

"I want you to be in my life forever," she said.

"Tell you what," I said. "How about we get through this school year, and after you graduate you can come to college wherever I am and we'll be roomies. I will have had time to choose a couple of good guys for you to go out with. You'll probably get tired of me sooner or later."

She rolled to land on top of me. She straddled me and grabbed my wrists, holding them down on the bed beside my head. I was easily strong enough to get free, but I let her "immobilize" me. She put her face right in front of mine.

"Nobody's going to choose who I go out with," she growled.

I made it obvious I was looking at her hanging breasts.

"Mmm, what nice titties you have, little girl," I said, now trying to make my voice as deep as possible. "Too bad you didn't go out with the nice, safe guy your brother chose for you. Now I'm going to eat you up!"

I flexed and rolled as she yelped, trying to maintain control. I would have landed on top of her and continued molesting her, except that as we struggled, she fell off the bed and landed on the floor with a thump.

"Bobby!" she wailed.

I stuck my head over the edge of the bed.

"You okay?"

"You threw me off the bed!" she complained.

"You fell off the bed." I tried to sound anxious. "You didn't bruise those sweet titties, did you?"

"Like you're ever going to get to touch them again," she grumbled, getting up off the floor.

I had started to go soft when I pulled out and got off of her. Seeing her like this, though, with tousled hair and trying to act angry when she obviously wasn't, made me react strangely and I got stiff as a board again. I grabbed my dick and stroked it.

"C'mon, Baby," I said. "My dick is nice and hard. Take a little ride. You know you want to. You can be on top and I'll suck them sweet titties. I won't touch them except with my mouth. I swear. Come on, little darlin'. Get up on top of old Bobby and ride the buckin' bronco."

I was just trying to get her out of her funk, but it backfired on me. She stood up and stared down at me.

"I just told you I wanted to have your baby and all you want to do is tease me."

She turned and tried to stomp out of the room, but since she was barefoot, it lacked something. She slammed the door, but it only stayed closed maybe five or six seconds. Then she opened it and stomped back in.

"This is my room. You get out!" she snapped.

I decided not to tell her how cute she looked when she blushed like that, and left.

I didn't even pick up my clothes off the floor.

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