Rubber Dicky, I Love You
Chapters : 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5
Brandy decided to approach her brother first. He was unlikely to throw her out of the house, and, if he threatened to tell her father, she could blackmail him into silence with her knowledge about his masturbation. She expected him to laugh at her and then call her a pervert.
Brandy was a very innocent, young girl.
She found him in his room, reading a comic book.
"Aren't you a little old to be reading comic books?" she asked, as an ice breaker.
"No," he said shortly. He was almost eighteen and he knew good and well that he was older than most kids who still read the colorful magazines, but he wasn't about to admit it to his older sister. "What do you want?" His voice made it clear that she was intruding.
"I need your help with a project I'm doing for comparative anatomy at school," said Brandy, trying to sound like those researchers she heard lectures from.
"What kind of help?" he asked.
"I want to make molds of ... body parts ... of the men in this family. Then the molds can be compared to each other and the differences and similarities catalogued."
"Like my hand?" Bobby held up his hand. His fingers were thick and short. They looked immensely strong.
"Sort of like that, yes." said Brandy. "Except it isn't your hand."
Bobby had a lightning image of his sister putting clay or plaster of Paris or something over his face. He'd seen a TV show where they did that to make masks for actors who had to wear an alien mask or something like that. They had to poke straws up the actor's nose so he could breathe during the process and it had looked distinctly uncomfortable. "I don't think so," he said.
"What do you mean?" asked Brandy, incredulous. He'd shot her down before she even told him what she wanted to cast.
He told her about the program, and the actor's face being covered with strips of plaster soaked cloth.
Brandy heaved a sigh of relief. "It's not your face either, so don't worry about that."
"Okay, then, so what is it?" He looked at her now.
"Well ... its ... um you see I want to compare ... uh ... sexual organs," she finished. She couldn't look at him.
Bobby couldn't believe what he'd just heard. He'd grown up under the same restrictions his sister had, and had been just as frustrated by their mother as anyone else. His natural urges had been forced into hiding. He'd discovered masturbation while taking a bath when he was twelve. He'd also known, instinctively, that his mother would not approve. So he had hidden his personal activities from his mother. But as close an eye as she kept on both kids made it very difficult to do anything outside the bathroom, and even then if he was in there too long his mother came knocking, demanding to know why he was taking so long and wanting to know what he was doing. His mother hadn't been gone from their lives an hour before he was masturbating. He had felt so free that he didn't even care if he had an orgasm or not. And, like all boys, he had gathered with his hunter brothers and talked about the gatherers and what the hunters wanted to do to and with the gatherers. He had a street education in sex, which meant he knew some dirty words, and the general idea of intercourse, but that's about all.
"You want to make a mold of my dick?" he asked.
"That's such a nasty word," said Brandy.
Bobby thought about exposing his penis to his sister. He found that idea almost wildly attractive. His sister was a knockout, and he spent hours trying to find magazines that had pictures of women who looked like her so that, when he lay on his bed and jacked off, he could pretend the women were her.
"Okay," he said.
Brandy blinked. "What?"
"I said sure. You can make a mold of my dick. Who are you going to compare it to?"
Brandy couldn't believe he'd agreed so quickly. She was off balance. "Um ... Daddy and Uncle Bob," she said.
"Dad will never go for it," said Bobby. "Uncle Bob might. I've seen him look at you."
"What?" asked Brandy again. This was all going too fast for her to keep up with.
"I've seen Uncle Bob looking at you. He looks at you like I look at ... well never mind. All I'm saying is that Uncle Bob thinks you're sexy."
Brandy blushed. She already knew what Uncle Bob thought about her, but for Bobby to know too made her uncomfortable. She didn't want Bobby to know she already had one model made. She planned on using the same technique with her father too. That way each one would think they were the first of the three.
"So how do we do this?" asked Bobby.
Brandy explained the procedure, describing how the mold had to be made quickly once the two liquids were mixed, and that there might be some discomfort during the removal of the mold. "Um ... you might want to shave too, before we make the mold." suggested Brandy.
"Shave? Why would I need to shave? I couldn't grow a beard if I tried," he said.
"Down there," added Brandy.
"You've got to be shitting me," he said.
Brandy frowned. "You've gotten a horrible potty mouth since Mom left. And it doesn't sound attractive at all, little brother."
"Okay, okay, you've got to be kidding me. I'm not shaving my crotch. Do you know what they'd say in the locker room if I did that? I'd be the laughing stock of the whole school!"
"Well, it's painful ... I mean I'm sure it would be painful if the hair gets stuck in the silicone. It might even pull it out when we remove the mold."
"I'll take my chances," he said darkly. "Shave my balls!" he huffed. "You've been smoking too much dope up at that college. That's what I think."
"Well they're your ... balls," said Brandy. "But I don't want to hear any whining later."
"This is a 'No Whining' zone," Bobby said in a macho voice.
Bobby asked a couple more questions and they decided to make the mold the next day, which was Saturday. Their father went golfing on Saturday mornings if the weather was good. He'd been enjoying himself since his wife had run off.
Saturday morning Chuck said goodbye and hauled his clubs out the door.
Brandy had thought about making Bobby's mold almost constantly since he had agreed to do it, and had been agitated the whole time, at a low level of ... horniness. She had imagined going over the process a hundred times. After her father waved goodbye and left she got more nervous and, for some reason, wanted to look nice for her brother. She was standing in front of the mirror in the bathroom, still in her pajamas, brushing her hair, when Bobby appeared in the open doorway.
"So how do we start?" He'd been thinking about what they were going to do too. He hadn't been able to envision what she would do and had questioned her. But Brandy had just said she knew how to do it, and would explain it later. He was half hard and worried that she'd be upset if he developed a hardon.
Brandy turned and once again Bobby had to admire her. The pajamas she was wearing were flannel and loose, but still her young breasts pushed the soft fabric out from her chest. He felt his dick twitch again. She looked flushed and ... nervous.
"Well, I have all the stuff. We have to get some things arranged and then we can start," she said.
He followed her to the dining room, where she began to arrange chairs in a row. "You have to be ... um ... hanging down ... for this to work," she said. She explained how she'd have to raise the bottle containing the molding material up onto his body. Bobby got stiffer still.
"Uh ... Brandy?" He started to tell her about his problem.
She turned around. She looked happy for some reason and Bobby didn't want to make that smile go away. "What?" she asked.
"Nothing," he said. But he immediately realized she'd find out sooner or later. "Um ... you understand about guys, right?"
Brandy hadn't a clue what he was talking about. She just looked at him, not even knowing what kind of question to ask to find out what he was talking about.
Bobby's cheeks got darker. "Um ... you know ... sometimes we get ... um ... hard." he finished, blushing more.
Brandy's face lit up. "That's perfect!" she said. "I need you to be hard for me."
There's an old saying that goes like this: I know you believe you understand what you think I said, but I'm not sure you realize that what you think you heard is not what I meant.
Memorize that, faithful readers, and learn to rattle it off without thinking, because it will make jaws drop.
But Brandy didn't know that saying, and didn't realize what she'd just said, and how a man ... particularly Bobby ... would hear it.
The words, "I need you to be hard for me," settled into Bobby's brain like rain soaks into a cotton shirt. Bobby's bone sprang to instant attention. He too was still wearing his pajamas, which were thin cotton with a pattern of horses on them. His mother had bought them for his last birthday, and habit still forced him to wear them. There happened to be a horse face right over his crotch, and the face took on three dimensional attributes. The horse actually had a long nose.
And, of course, Brandy looked at what he had suggested might be happening.
"Excellent," she said happily.
Bobby's prick leaked precum. "You're not mad?" he asked.
"Of course not," she said, making the final arrangements to the chairs and stack of books she had placed under the gap between two of them. "How else would I be able to make the mold?"
"Oh," said Bobby, now a little confused. "So what do we do now?"
"Well, now we have to be naked," said Brandy. Things had been going so well that her shyness receded. She began unbuttoning her pajama top, exposing creamy white skin between the swell of her well developed breasts. She had just naturally assumed that, as with Uncle Bob, she would have to be naked too.
Bobby stood frozen as he watched the inner swells of his sister's breasts come into view. He'd dreamed of seeing them, but never thought he actually would. His prick strained painfully and he felt light headed. "Naked?" he sighed. "Both of us?"
Brandy stopped. She looked at him. "Isn't that okay?" She had a sudden terrible fear that her brother thought she was ugly and didn't want to see her. "Uncle B... I mean I just thought it would help." Her face fell. "But if you don't want me to that's okay." She turned back around. "But you have to take your bottoms off at least."
Bobby suddenly realized she was buttoning her PJs back up.
"No!" he shouted.
Brandy jumped and turned back around, her fingers at a button.
Bobby rushed on in a panic. "I mean it would help. I was just surprised. You never told me what we were actually going to do. You can be naked too. Yes! That's a good idea!" He started tearing at his pajamas and a button flew across the room as he stripped naked in a little less than eight seconds. He started hopping around as he tried to get his feet clear of the legs of his PJ bottoms.
Brandy stood transfixed as her brother's penis came into view. As he danced it waved and bobbed. She was astonished that it looked almost completely different than her Uncle's. Uncle Bob's penis had been thick, with a lot of bulges and dips and uneven lines to it, with a large head moving to a thinner neck and then back out to a veined and bumpy shaft. Brandy had stared at it for an hour the night before, or at least the model of it, as she stroked the slick rubbery surface of the facsimile they had made. She'd tucked it under her pillow, her hand wrapped around it as she fell asleep.
But Bobby's was smoother, without all the variation in thickness. It didn't look quite as thick as her uncle's, and there was no bulge at the tip. There was a kind of collar of skin that went almost to the tip, which was shiny and had something wet looking forming a drip. Not having had any sex education, Brandy didn't know the difference between a man who had been cut, and one with a foreskin. She was seeing that difference now, and she was astonished. She'd thought they'd pretty much look the same, like breasts, with only minor variations in overall size.
Once naked Bobby had frozen again, hoping that Brandy would continue to expose more of her skin. "Really ... Brandy it would be good for you to be naked too," he said, somewhat breathlessly.
"Oh!" Brandy came unstuck and her hands automatically went to the buttons again. Within seconds the top was sliding down her arms and dropping to the floor.
Bobby gave a long sigh.
Brandy darted a look at his face and saw something there that made her feel just as good as she did when Uncle Bob stared at her. Her reservations vanished and she bent over to shuck her PJ bottoms. She stood back up naked, and still a little shy.
Bobby sighed again. "You're gorgeous Brandy," he said, awe in his voice. "I didn't know."
Brandy felt that tingle in between her legs that she liked so much. "Thank you," she said softly. "My being naked is supposed to help you stay ... hard. So the mold can set up before you get soft again."
"No problem there," said Bobby in a hushed tone. His hand automatically went to his prick and he stroked it a couple of times. He realized what he was doing and jerked his hand away, his face flaming red. "Sorry," he said.
Brandy had been watching, and she learned something. When he pulled backwards on the handsome thing, that collar of skin thinned and disappeared, exposing a knob just like Uncle Bob's. They weren't so different after all!
Her smile blazed. "No! That's okay, that's what uh... I mean that will help too."
"Gosh, you're beautiful," said Bobby as his hand went back to his cock. He wanted to squirt more than he had in months. Here, right in front of him, was the girl he wished he could see in the pages of his beat-off magazines.
"Don't go too much overboard," giggled Brandy. She was so fascinated with watching the tip appear and then disappear under that sheath of skin that she just watched for a few seconds. She shivered as the feeling between her legs intensified and jerked her eyes away. "Okay, now lie down on the chairs, with your ... penis hanging down."
"Are you going to touch it?" asked Bobby wistfully.
"I have to stick a little piece of cardboard along ... it ... by your ... um ... balls. So I can get the mold off easier," she explained.
"Ohhhhh," sighed Bobby as he lay down. He hoped he didn't splatter cum all over the place when she touched his throbbing peter.
Brandy had prepared a slip of cardboard, about an inch and a half long, and an inch wide where it would connect with the penis. Then it got wider so she could custom fit it to the testicles. A tail would then protrude between the subject's legs and would stick up out of the silicone once it had set up. Uncle Bob had given her a tube of rubber cement. He thought that a thin line of that applied to the object being molded, and another coating along one side of the cardboard would stick if both parts were allowed to air dry before they were connected. He thought the cardboard would enable her to peel the mold apart enough to free the balls. As long as the subject wasn't still at full erection, his penis should come out easily. Just in case he suggested she coat the penis and cardboard with the Pam spray just before she raised the jug of silicone up to cover everything.
So, in fact, Brandy had to touch Bobby's penis and balls a lot. He made funny little noises in his throat as she did so, and his prick jerked and moved as she prepared it for molding.
"Can't you keep that thing still?" she asked.
"Brandy, a beautiful naked girl is touching my pri... I mean penis. What do you expect?"
"Well, yes, but that girl is your sister. I'd think that would make it go soft," she said, concentrating on trying to get the rubber cement in place. She had cut the cardboard with scissors and was satisfied with how it matched the contour of his balls. It also kept his balls from falling down and she liked that too.
"Not a chance," he groaned.
"Thank you again ... I think," she said. "Okay, now here we go." She sprayed his penis with the Pam and he jumped.
Carefully she raised the jug of silicone up and onto his rampant rod. She grabbed her PJ top to make the nest to settle it down into.
"Ohhh it's warm," he moaned.
"Just hold still,." she ordered. She put one hand on his naked buttocks to punctuate her command.
Bobby almost lost it. The feel of his penis sliding into warm clasping wetness was almost too much to bear and the feel of her soft fingers on his butt cheek made him clench his teeth to keep from ... ruining the mold.
"Okay, now you have to stay that way for ten minutes." said Brandy. "I'm supposed to ... um I mean if I let you look at me would that help you stay hard?"
Bobby was torn. He wanted to look at her in the worst way, but he was afraid he'd blow if he did. "I don't ... think ... that will be ... um ... necessary." He even closed his eyes tightly to help control his urge to spew.
Brandy didn't understand what he was talking about, but she squatted patiently, just looking at the jug of silicone that looked like it was growing out of his body. She giggled, thinking about what a penis that huge would look like.
"What's wrong?" asked Bobby. The urge to cum had abated a little.
"Nothing. I was just thinking how funny it would look if your ... um penis was as big as the bottle."
Bobby was miffed a little. "Is size all girls think about?" he said.
Brandy had never thought about size before. "No," she said. "At least I don't think so. I only saw one ... I mean I never saw one before yours. Aren't they all about the same?"
"I guess so," said Bobby. Talking about size made him feel even less desirous of spurting. "Uh, I think maybe it's getting soft."
Brandy checked her watch. There were still three minutes to go. She jumped up and went up by Bobby's head. She didn't know what to do, exactly. With Uncle Bob she had just stood there as his eyes raked her naked body. "Look at me," she said.
Bobby's head turned and his eyes were staring right at her bush. He could see her pussy lips nestled amongst the light fluff there. He could also smell something that, though he didn't know it, was turned-on pussy. There was a place in his brain that recognized it, though, and he felt new strength flow into his prick. "Uhhh better," he choked out.
Brandy let him look for two more minutes and then had Bobby stand up. He too complained about the weight of the mold and held it with both hands. Brandy looked at the chairs and then at the couch and decided not to put him on either of those.
"Let's go to your bedroom," she said. Once there she had him lie on the bed, got the scalpel and started working on the plastic bottle that held the mold. Bobby stared at her breasts as they hung down, swaying gently. He noticed that her nipples were standing out from the pale areolas, as if they were excited.
Brandy got the plastic peeled off and tried to lay the mold on Bobby's abdomen.
"Hey!" he yipped. "That pulls things."
"Oh, sorry" she said. Then, "I thought this was a no whining zone mister tough guy." But she smiled to show she didn't mean it. Bobby held the mold with both hands while she peered at the cardboard between his legs. She glanced at his hands and giggled again. "See what I mean? What if your thingie was that big?"
Bobby looked down at his hands, gripping the round slick silicone and couldn't help but laugh too. "No girl would have anything to do with me if I was that big," he said.
"I bet it would shoot a lot of stuff if it was that big," said Brandy, remembering Uncle Bob's spurting prick.
"What do you know about stuff shooting?" asked her brother. His cock had softened, but he could feel it stiffening again inside the mold at her words.
Brandy realized she was treading on dangerous ground. "Oh, you know. I know they squirt stuff. Everybody knows that." She felt a thrill of peril as she went on. "Doesn't yours ... squirt ... when you ... you know?"
Bobby was astonished that his virginal sister was suggesting that he masturbated. "What!?" he gasped. "What makes you think I do that?"
"I heard that all boys do that." said Brandy, pulling at the two sides of the mold where it was stuck to the cardboard. To her delight it pulled apart easily, just like Uncle Bob had predicted it would.
"Well I ...ahhhhhhhhBraaannndddeeeeeee" he moaned as she began pulling the mold off his balls. He could feel pressure all around his stiff prick, and hairs being pulled.
"I think it's stuck a little," said Brandy. She pulled the mold apart more and could see his balls fall loose. Obviously his penis was still thick and stiff. "Oh!" she said, the tip of her tongue darting out between her lips as she concentrated. "You're still hard." She pulled and some of his penis appeared. Then when he whined she let off of it a little. She could see a little more of it than before.
"I have to pull Bobby," she said. She pulled again, and then released the pressure again, doing that several times, not knowing she was, in effect, jacking her brother off.
Bobby watched as her breasts swayed. His eyes darted to the hair he could barely see between her legs in her bent over position. He couldn't take it any more. With a groan he felt semen rushing through his cock. Thankfully, his prick had pulled out enough that there was a reservoir of sorts to accept his emission. Three strong healthy spurts and he felt his cock softening.
Brandy had to take a step back as his prick popped free of its confinement. Semen oozed from the tip of his prick as he grabbed it to make sure it was okay.
Brandy stared. The stuff coming out of his penis looked just like Uncle Bob's had. She peered down into the mold and then tipped it upside down. A long drip of viscous white fluid dripped out onto the bed.
Bobby was mortified. His face scrunched up. "I'm sorry Brandy, I couldn't help it. You look so sexy and it felt so good. I ..."
She shushed him by leaning over and kissing his lips a quick peck. "It's okay Bobby. I understand."
Bobby was at once relieved and amazed. "Really?" he whined.
"Sure. It's normal, isn't it? I mean you did say I was pretty. Isn't that what a boy does around a pretty naked girl?"
"I guess so," he said.
"I'll have to clean the mold out, though," she said, frowning. "before I can make the positive mold."
"I'll do that if you want." offered her brother, still feeling bad.
"No, that's okay. It's my project," she said. She took the mold and walked out of the room. As she got to the door she looked back over her shoulder. "Don't move. I'll be back with a washcloth to clean you up."
Brandy put the mold in the sink and got the washcloth. She was about to turn on the water to clean the mold and dampen the washcloth when she saw a drool of her brother's spunk dripping out of the mold. Looking over her shoulder first, she dipped a finger into it and brought it to her mouth. It tasted different than her uncle's. It had a sharper taste, with a little saltiness thrown in. But it wasn't bad either.
She got the washcloth nice and hot before returning to her brother's room. He was still lying where she'd left him and was, more or less, relaxed. When she started to bathe his cock and balls, though, his cock stiffened again.
"Sorry," he said again.
"Will you stop that?" she said. She reached out and grasped his penis with her bare hand. Then she made the collar of skin thin and move until the round head was uncovered.
Bobby hissed. "What are you doing?"
"I'm making sure that everything still works like it's supposed to," she said. She slid her hand back up and watched, fascinated as the tip was covered up and what looked like loose fleshy lips were formed in an 'O'. She played with his cock, sliding her hand along it's smooth length, marveling at how soft it felt on the outside, though very firm underneath.
Brandy looked at Bobby's face. It was frozen in a rictus of what might have been pain, except that his eyes made it clear there was no pain involved. "Brandy ... if you keep doing that I'll have to ..."
"Cum," she finished for him. "Yes, I know. Tell me before you do, though, so we don't make a big mess again."
Bobby didn't know how he could keep from making a mess. He was almost paralyzed with joy as his sister's warm hand stroked him.
Brandy, despite her lack of education in things sexual, had heard of blow jobs. She'd never contemplated doing one, and if asked before this very instant would have shaken her head, saying she wouldn't ever do one. But those little wrinkled lips that formed every time she pulled his foreskin up and over the head of his prick just begged to be kissed, and to kiss back and, after all, his sperm didn't taste bad.
So why not? It would save having to clean things up, wouldn't it?
And, when Bobby gasped that it was time, she bent over and kissed those little lips like Uncle Bob had taught her how to kiss, with soft, loose lips that were slightly parted. When Bobby realized where her mouth was, and his hips lurched up off the bed, his prick just naturally entered Brandy's mouth and she just naturally clamped down on it with tongue, cheeks ... and perhaps just a little too much teeth.
Bobby exploded as he saw stars. He felt heat around his cock again, and this time he knew it was the heat of his sister's mouth. He gave her every drop he could produce, though having cum only minutes before robbed him of real volume.
Brandy sucked up what he offered and realized immediately that having a lot in your mouth tasted quite different than having just a little. Basically, a lot tasted much better, and Brandy was very glad she had decided to do this fun and tasty thing. She swallowed twice and, when she pulled her mouth off of his cock, let it flop lifelessly against his leg. Seeing it like that she suddenly realized it looked a lot like her father's, on that day she had seen it when it, too, was soft.
Brandy made the positive mold of Bobby's cock that afternoon, and she was delighted to find that it came out almost perfectly. Where the head of his penis had been uncovered by the foreskin the silicone had curled under, and the facsimile looked so lifelike she expected that foreskin to peel back off the glans when she stroked it. It didn't, of course, but the thing still felt good in her hand, which seemed to fit around it perfectly, just like the original.
She compared it to Uncle Bob's and could see differences easily. They felt different too. Though the surface of each was made of the same material, and that material felt the same, she could close her eyes and feel the difference between the larger, bumpier one of her Uncle, and the smoother, slimmer one of her brother.
Now all that was left was getting her father to agree to let her complete the set.
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