Rubber Dicky, I Love You
Chapters : 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This one is dedicated to Esteban, who is rumored to actually have provided Jennifer, Ana Lim, Melissa and Joanne with a genuine rubber replica of that part of him they have a particular appreciation for. Well, actually, it's dedicated to the women, because they told me about it ... and about using them.
And in my head I couldn't help but hear singing ... coming from the bathtub ... as each of the women bathed, when Esteban was unavailable because he was at work, or maybe with one of the others. And the song was a tune we all know: "Rubber Ducky, I Love You", though one word, in my head was slightly different.
Esteban also has a proclivity to keep each one of them either pregnant or lactating, which those of you who read my stories know would trip my trigger. I hope this story trips yours.
Brandy Thurston was really enjoying her first year of college, even though most of the courses she had to take were boring. She'd been an A student all through High School, primarily because her mother was such a close-minded ice queen. Brandy remembered the almost atomic arguments Linda and Charles Thurston had gotten into over their daughter, and whether she should be allowed to date or not, whether she should have a curfew or not, what kind of clothing she should be allowed to wear, whether she should be allowed to take sex education or not and even whether she should be allowed to go to college. Her mother came down on the negative side of every argument, while her father argued hard to "let the girl live a little".
But Linda Thurston had been drawn into a philosophy that the only time a woman should engage in sex was when she was trying to conceive a baby. Since Brandy wasn't allowed to have a boyfriend, and would not betring to have a ba y for possibly decdes,she had no need for sex education, or slinky clothing and it was Linda's personal project to ensure her daughter stayed a virgin until she was married and the couple could afford to have children.
Brandy asked her mother one day how she was supposed to meet her future husband, and then how to know that he was her future husband, if she was never allowed to date. Her mother's response was, "You leave that to me. I'll tell you when it's time."
So Brandy had a lot of time to study, and she was much better educated than most of the rest of her classmates at graduation. When Brandy was offered a full scholarship at the University of Oklahoma at Norman, which was just down the road from Shawnee, where her parents lived, the argument was so ugly that her mother walked out, calling both her husband and her daughter "Heathens". She tried to take Bobby, Brandy's seventeen year old brother with her, but Bobby, having endured the same rules as Brandy, told his mother to have a nice life and call him on his birthdays. Divorce papers had come in UPS within two weeks, filed by lawyers known to be associated with a certain cult in Tulsa, demanding seventy-five percent of the family assets, to be deposited in a numbered account.
Charles fought it in court, and when Linda ranted about the "horrible things" her husband wanted the children to be able to do, like go to the mall, or for sleepovers, or to college, the judge granted the divorce, awarding her her clothing and three books. She was ordered to return her $5000 wedding set to Charles. Her plea for custody was denied, and the judge further ordered that she approach no further than one thousand feet to her former home without express written permission from Charles. When the judge questioned the children about what they wanted in terms of visitation, the kids asked that they be allowed to decline a visit if it interfered with plans they had made. In the months to come, Brandy and Bobby both met with their mother once, but after that were almost always too busy to see her.
By the time the divorce was final, Brandy was ready to go off to school, so she still hadn't had an opportunity to date. Once she got to college, she was shy around boys, feeling she didn't know enough to date successfully. Besides, she still had to study, and dorm life made that more difficult than she'd thought it would.
The winter break had been good. It had been wonderful to be with her father and brother, back home, without a raving mother to ruin every plan. She even got to spend some time with her Uncle Bob, who her brother was named after. He was her mother's brother, but he'd become thoroughly disgusted with her ranting too. It was fun going places with them. She went skating with her brother, and to movies with Uncle Bob. Her father took her to museums and out for ice cream. And the rest of the time they played board games at home, or watched videos. She was almost sorry to have to go back to school.
In her second semester of college, she took the class that would change her life forever. It was Biology. She'd taken Biology in High School, so the material wasn't that surprising. She was going over a list of suggested topics for term papers when she saw "Comparative Anatomy." She didn't understand what that meant, so she approached the graduate student who taught the class. Her name was Mary.
"Mary? Can I ask you a question?" began Brandy.
"That's what college is for," said Mary, smiling.
"What exactly is "comparative anatomy"?" asked Brandy.
"Well, one example would be a comparison of muscle development between two cultures. Let's say you looked at muscle development for Appalachian coal miners, compared to Bantu warriors in Africa. What kind of muscle does each need for the culture and subculture in which they live and work? Is it different, or the same? I know one student last year did a comparison of breast sizes in the family, going back three generations, trying to see if breast size changed, and if that change could be credited to the changing diet and culture in America. Something like that." Mary looked questioningly at Brandy, to see if her question had been answered.
"She compared her breasts to her mother's and Grandmother's?" asked Brandy, amazed.
"Actually it was a guy who did the project. He compared his sister to his mother to his Grandmother."
"And that was okay?" asked Brandy in disbelief.
"Actually, the professor loved it. Said it was innovative and interesting. Of course I just think he liked looking at the pictures of the breasts, but the guy got an A."
"He took pictures of his sister's ... his mother's ... his grandmother's ... breasts!?" gasped Brandy.
"That he did," said Mary. "Does that give you any ideas?"
"Um, yeah, I'll figure something out." said Brandy, still shaken by the mental image in her mind of Bobby taking pictures of her naked breasts. That would be just too weird. Over the next couple of weeks she thought about it, but couldn't come up with a firm plan.
Then she went home for Spring Break and everything fell into place. It happened when she went to see her Uncle at work. Uncle Bob was a dentist, and it was time for her annual teeth cleaning, so she made the appointment for when she'd be home. He chatted with her as she sat in the chair, commenting on what good shape her mouth was in and praising her for flossing regularly. An assistant brought in a mold she had just made of another patient's teeth. It was made of flesh-colored rubbery stuff, and Uncle Bob bent it, peering to see if the details was perfect. Uncle Bob explained this was a negative mold, that had been made by putting liquid silicone into a horseshoe shaped trough. Then it was pressed onto the patient's teeth and left there while the liquid cured. The result was a negative of the teeth. That could then be filled with plaster, and a perfect positive copy of the teeth could be produced. He showed her a plaster mold and Brandy would have sworn they were real teeth, except that the gums were white plaster too.
Brandy was fascinated. Here was a substance that was better than a photograph. It could be used to make exact copies of body parts. She could use this for her term project. Maybe she could compare teeth in her family. When she asked Uncle Bob if that would be possible he smiled.
"Sure sugar. You just tell me what you want to do and I'll help you. I have tons of the stuff. It's not all that expensive." That wasn't exactly true, but Uncle Bob loved his beautiful niece and she had him wrapped around her little finger. He was fully aware that she did not know that, but that was fine too.
They say things happen in threes. Being exposed to the latex molding process was the first thing that happened to her. The second was later that night. It was late, and everyone had gone to bed. Brandy had been reading, but got thirsty and got up to go get a drink of orange juice. On the way to the kitchen, she passed Bobby's room. His door wasn't completely closed and, as she glanced through it into the still lit room, she froze.
Bobby was masturbating.
He was lying on his side, naked, on top of the covers. He had a magazine spread open beside him and was peering at it as his hand moved on his cock. He wasn't going fast, which surprised her. She'd never seen a boy do anything like this, but she'd heard of it, and had always assumed it was a violent kind of thing, where the hand moved fast. Instead he was stroking himself slowly, almost lovingly. He reached to turn a page of the magazine, and she was able to see his penis completely. It was much longer than she thought a boy's penis would be and it was straight ... hard. It was also much bigger around than she thought it would be. Then his hand covered it as he began stroking again.
Brandy felt a tickle between her legs ... as if she needed to scratch herself. But she knew that was no tickle. She was reacting sexually to her own brother. She wasn't as much disgusted as she was surprised. There were boys at school who made her feel that way. She held her breath as he leaned over further, looking closely at something in the magazine. Now his hand did speed up. It kept speeding up until it suddenly did look violent, as if he just had to be hurting himself.
Then he groaned and a silvery-white string of something shot out of the end of his penis and landed on a T shirt that he had apparently spread out on the bed just for this purpose. There were more of those spurts and now Brandy felt tingles in her breasts too. Confused, she backed up and went back to her room.
She didn't feel thirsty any more.
That was the second thing, in the string of three. The third was the next morning, when she walked into the bathroom to take a shower, and her father was drying off after taking his own. Her eyes took in his cock, which was much shorter than she thought it should be. It was only two inches long, and had a narrow tip, but was much thicker where it met his wiry nest of pubic hairs. His balls were huge by comparison. In the time it took her to realize 'Of course! He doesn't have an erection! Of course it would look smaller!' she blushed and he stammered and she backed out of the bathroom. She took refuge in her room.
The two penises had looked so completely different. The comparison was ... comparison ... hmmm.
Mary had said the boy had compared the women in his family to each other ... their breasts. Could she compare the men in her family? Could she compare their penises and arrive at some conclusion? The thought brought her butterflies in her belly ... and a level of excitement that she found hard to believe. She could compare Bobby to her father. Her Grandfather was dead. The only other male relative she had was her mother's brother, Uncle Bob. He wasn't in the blood line. But Bobby was in his bloodline, through their mother. So maybe the hypothesis was that Bobby's penis should look like a cross between Uncle Bob's and her Father's.
Would they do it? Would they let her compare them? She thought about the latex molding material. Could she make molds of their penises? Then she could compare them side by side. Hmmmmmm.
It was two more hours before she finally fell asleep.
Brandy chose her Uncle as the first person to approach about her idea. It was Saturday and he was home, engaged in his hobby - tying fishing flies - when she found him after coming in the front door.
"Hey Uncle Bob," she said cheerily.
"Hi good looking," said Bob. It was an honest greeting. As far as Bob was concerned, she was the best looking girl he knew. He got enough pussy from the assistants at his practice to make up for never having met the right woman to marry and settle down with, but half the time he fantasized that it was Brandy he was fucking as he sprayed one of the girls full of his love offering.
"Can I talk to you about something?" she asked.
He looked up at the sound of her voice. She sounded nervous. "You know you can talk to me about anything," he said. "Always could, still can, and always will be able to."
"This is different," she said, still nervous. "It's about my Biology term project and its ... well it's kind of ... racy I guess."
"Racy," he repeated.
So she launched into the explanation, starting with what Mary had told her about they guy who photographed breasts and compared them, and then working up to how she saw Bobby with his dick in his hand, and then her father's soft, smallish cock, and finally to how she wanted to make molds of all three, including his own.
During the explanation Bob tried to concentrate on tying a Red-faced spinner. It came out looking more like a wasp, and his dick was rock hard when she finally went silent. He darted a look at her, but she was looking at the floor, her face sort of brick colored.
"So that's what you want to make molds of," he said.
"I think so," she confirmed, breathing again after realizing he wasn't going to get mad ... or laugh. "Do you think it would work?"
Bob put his tools down. "Well, we'd have to make something to hold the silicone in place while it set up. You say you want the testicles too?"
"Uh huh," said Brandy meekly. "Is that okay?"
"Well it makes it a little more of a challenge. The easiest way to do this, I think, is to take something like a two liter soda bottle and cut the top off of it. Then fill it with the silicone, and submerge the erect penis and balls down into it. By the time it had set up, the erection would have softened. It will have to, because that's the only way we'll be able to get the mold off of the ... ah ... model. The hard part will be getting the balls out, because the silicone will be wrapped all the way around them, and they don't shrink like an erection does. But I think I might have the answer to that too. We can glue a small sheet of plastic to the underside of the balls and that will make a separation point. We can pull the mold apart there, and the testicles should pop free.
"It sounds complicated," said Brandy. "What do you think?"
Bob looked at her. "Were you planning on being involved in making the mold?"
"You mean be right there?" she asked. "Right there with a naked penis ... a naked hard penis?" It sounded like she had never thought about that part.
"Yes. You would have to touch the model, and the other thing is that we need the erection to be firm for three or four minutes after the process starts. Otherwise the silicone will sag inward before it cures enough to hold its shape and you won't get a true mold."
"How do we do that?" Brandy had already talked herself into believing that she would be there when all this happened.
"Why don't we try a trial run with me, and we'll see how things work. What do you think about that?" Uncle Bob looked at her expectantly. He already had an idea of how he wanted her to help him "stay firm" while the mold cured.
"Oh!!" she yipped. "Could we really? Oh yes please? That would be so cool!" Brandy jumped up and down. Her luscious breasts bobbed and her Uncle's cock rose to half staff.
"I'm game if you are," he said. I have some silicone out in the garage. It's past its expiration date for dental work, but I think it will work fine for this." He went and got it, bringing back an empty two liter soda bottle at the same time. He got a pair of scissors and handed the bottle to her. "Why don't you cut that top off while I get ready." he suggested.
Brandy tried to start cutting the bottle about halfway through but Bob stopped her. "Sweetheart, we need more depth than that," he said.
Brandy looked at him, and at the six inches of bottle she had been trying to cut off. Was he longer than that? She moved up two inches and looked at him with a raised eyebrow.
"Give it another inch." he suggested.
Brandy made an "O" with her mouth, but did as he said, ending up with a bottle that was about nine inches deep.
"Okay, now the only problem is that for the silicone to stay in the bottle, we have to leave it upright. That means I'll have to lie down on something and ... let it all hang out ... so to speak. He got three dining room chairs and set them side by side, moving one about ten inches apart from the others. He lay down on his stomach across the chairs, with his crotch in the ten inch gap. "I think that might work" he said. "Now, find some books or something to put the bottle on so the top will be up next to my skin."
Brandy ran around gathering the thickest and largest books she could find, stacking them up until they looked the right height. She turned around to tell her uncle it was ready and was shocked to find him standing there naked. Her eyes were drawn automatically to his penis, which was about half hard and already six inches long. It lay lightly on his balls, which were hair-covered and egg sized. He was circumcised, and the head was large and pointed. After that the neck narrowed down, but then surged back out as the shaft got larger. It looked very interesting to Brandy. This was the closest she had ever come to one. At least one that was naked. She stared at it longer, trying to figure out why it she thought it looked different than her brother's and her father's. But she couldn't decide.
Bob unscrewed the caps of three bottles of dental silicone, which were about the size of a pickle jar. Thinking of pickles made Brandy laugh.
"What's so funny?" asked Uncle Bob. He looked at his cock. "What's wrong with it?"
Brandy laughed harder, feeling much better now. "Nothing is wrong with it!" she giggled. "It's a perfectly fine penis. I was just thinking of pickles and it just seemed funny."
"You think it looks like a pickle?!" said her uncle, trying to sound hurt.
"Nope!" laughed Brandy. "Most pickles I've seen are bigger than that!" She howled with laughter.
"Well, little Miss Pickle-breath, come on over here and play with it a little and get it hard and you'll see just what kind of pickle I can produce!"
Brandy stopped laughing. "Play with it?" she asked.
"Either that or you can take off your clothes. That would make me hard in a jiffy," he said, smiling.
"Take off my clothes?" she said, her voice trembling.
"Sweety, you're the sexiest woman I know. If you were to get naked, or play with my cock, I'd have the hardest erection of my life. Isn't that what we're trying to do here?"
"Sexiest woman you know?" stammered Brandy.
"Are you deaf woman?" said Bob in a snarling voice. "Get Naked!"
Brandy was so shocked at the whole idea of being naked with her uncle ... while he was naked too ... that she just did as she was told. Her hands flew to the buttons of her blouse, and when that dropped on the floor she wiggled her hips to get her jeans over them. Suddenly she was standing in front of her uncle in just bra and panties. She got shy.
"I feel so funny," she moaned.
"You look delicious," said Bob. "See? Progress already!"
Brandy looked up and her eyes widened. Now his penis was seven inches long and standing almost straight out. It pointed at her ... panties now. Her mind working overtime on images, she contemplated the image of his penis pointing at what was under her panties. She found that image very erotic, to her surprise, and she felt a twinge of delightful ... something ... between her legs.
"I think if you took off your bra, we might have a workable erection," said Bob.
Brandy started to say, "My bra?" but caught herself. Impetuously she reached behind her and the bra snapped apart in the back. She caught it with her left hand, holding it to her breasts, but let it slip ... lower ... and lower ... and lower ... until she got the courage to just let it fall to the floor. She couldn't make herself look at her Uncle.
He whistled. Her eyes darted up then, easily, her fear of rejection gone. Somehow she had been afraid that he would think she was too small, or too big, or that her breasts were ugly in some way. She'd lived with them most of her life, and they were no big deal to her.
"Man!" he said in a husky voice. "Those are the most beautiful tits I've seen in years and years and years."
Brandy thought "Tits ... he called them tits." It was a nasty word, a word her mother would have slapped her face for it she'd ever have uttered it. But it sounded ... sexy ... coming from Uncle Bob's mouth.
"Thank you," she whispered, embarrassed at his praise.
"No, thank you!" he sighed. She looked at him and he was doing the same thing Bobby had been doing last night. He was sliding his hand up and down his penis. And now it was hard. It was probably eight inches or a little longer. When he let go of it, it stood upward, like a cannon or something, pointing up into the sky. It looked ... sexual ... and for the first time in her life, Brandy thought about what that thing was made to do ... in her body. A shudder went through her as she tried to imagine that, stuffed inside her pussy. That tingle in the very pussy she was thinking of got stronger and she felt an urge to rub between her legs.
"Shall we get started?" asked Bob. "We don't want it to get soft."
"What do I do?" asked the turned-on girl.
"I'll lie down and you slide the bottle up onto my penis." said Bob. "Then I'll have to lie still for about five or so minutes until it sets up." Bob mixed a second tube of something into the silicone in the bottle. "This is the hardener." He stopped, and then laughed. "But I'm already hard, so I guess you're the hardener." He grinned at his jest as he stirred the mixture thoroughly and then handed her the bottle and lay down on the chairs. His erect phallus hung down in the gap between the chairs, above the stack of books she had prepared. It still pointed toward his head a little.
Brandy got to her knees, staring at the erect penis in front of her. Taking a breath she tried to put the bottle under his prick. The stack of books was in the way. She moved it and got the bottle of stuff right below him. "Here goes" she said, her breath tight in her lungs.
Then his penis was at the wrong angle. Had it been pointing straight down it would have been fine. So Brandy had to tip the bottle a little.
She moved the bottle up, fascinated as it contacted the sexual thing in front of her. It looked like he was forcing his prick into the liquid, rather than what was actually happening. With a convulsive movement she brought the bottle up quickly and it enveloped his cock and balls. She scrabbled for the stack of books, and then her blouse, making a nest for the bottle so it would stay tilted. She ended up having to lean it against a couple of books before carefully pulling her hands away. As the bottle settled into the nest of cloth, the liquid pulled away from his body she saw some of his hairs, coated with silicone, become exposed. She grimaced.
"Uh ... Uncle Bob?" she said. She was thinking about Marjorie Tomkins, at school, who had helped her remove some of her body hair with a hot wax procedure. She remembered how painful that was.
"Yeah?" his voice was tight too.
"What about your hair?" She let the question hang.
"Shit," was his short reply. "I forgot about that."
"You want me to take it off?" She reached for the bottle.
"It's already too late for that," he said. "We may as well let it go. The silicone is pretty slippery. Maybe the hairs will pull free. Uh oh." he finished.
"What's wrong?" she asked.
"I'm starting to go limp. It's too soon. Get up here where I can see you, princess."
"What?" she asked, confused.
"I need to see you sweety. I need to see those sweet tits of yours."
"Oh!" she said, embarrassed. She'd completely forgotten she was wearing only panties. She stood up and moved around to his head. Her panties were just about at his eye level and he craned his neck.
"Man! You're so hot Brandy!" he groaned. "Could you take your panties off baby?"
"Uncle Bob!" she said, reproach in her voice. "I don't think you're supposed to feel that way about me!"
"I can't help it baby" he said, an impetuous smile on his face. "You're a stone fox and if I wasn't your uncle I'd be trying to get in your panties anyway. Come on, it's for the project. I need to stay hard for this to work."
Brandy felt that tremor in her pussy again. Her thumbs hooked in the waistband of her panties almost of their own volition. She pushed downward, exposing the top of her light brown pubes.
"Oh yes." sighed Bob. "Just a little further."
Feeling wild, Brandy pushed the panties down and lifted one foot to step out of them. She stepped sideways with that foot, and her pussy was exposed to her uncle.
"Oh fuck," said Bob. "That's the prettiest pussy I've ever seen."
"Uncle Bob!" complained Brandy. But her voice didn't sound like she was complaining a lot.
"You don't have to worry about the mold, honey," he said. "I'm as hard as I've ever been again. Tell me something Brandy, do you ever play with that pussy?"
"Uncle Bob!!" she squealed again. "Of course I don't! My mother would just shit!" Her mouth snapped shut as she uttered that four letter word. She'd never said it out loud before. She turned crimson again, the reddish tint going clear down to the tops of her breasts.
"Let me tell you something about your mother Brandy," said Bob, who was her mother's brother. "When we were kids she masturbated so much that our parents took her to a shrink."
Brandy was shocked into stillness. "What?"
"You heard me. She stuck everything in the house up in her pussy. Candles, hairbrush handles, even cucumbers and bananas. Our parents didn't know about it until she got a dildo from one of her friends and masturbated herself to sleep with it one night. She left it lying beside her in the bed and your Grandmother found it the next morning when she went to wake her up for school."
"Ny mother?" asked Brandy, unbelieving.
"That's right, princess. Your mother. My sister. She let every boy in the neighborhood crawl between her legs. Our folks had her in therapy for years. That therapist convinced her there was something wrong with her. He put her on drugs and hypnosis and all kinds of stuff. She started acting all funny. It wasn't until years later we found out he was fucking her too. She was just fourteen and he was sticking it to her in every session."
"My mother?!" Brandy just couldn't fit her mother's face on the picture her uncle was painting.
"He's still in prison, but she was so messed up by it all that she never got over it. That's why she acted the way she acted with you. She was convinced that sex was just bad in every way. Then that cult got a hold of her and they said it was her duty to bear children. She had you two, but your father was miserable the rest of the time. He loved her though, and put up with her until she started ruining your and Bobby's lives too."
Brandy sat down. "Wow!" she said, breathless.
"I think we're done," he said, raising his chest off the chairs. He pushed himself up and Brandy leaned to one side to see the soda bottle lift off the books. "Damn, that's heavy," said Bob as the weight transferred to his cock and balls. "Fuck!" he grunted.
"What's wrong?" asked Brandy anxiously.
"We forgot the thing to get it off my balls too," he groaned. He reached down and took the weight of the bottle in his hands. He looked funny, bent over, walking around with a soda bottle sticking out where his penis should be, and Brandy giggled.
"This isn't funny!" he groused.
"I know. I'm sorry. It just looks funny."
"Well, you're going to have to help me get this thing off. Come with me." he ordered.
Brandy followed him to his fly-tying workshop, where he rooted around in a tool box and came up with a scalpel. "You're going to have to make a cut, to split the mold. Obviously you need to be very careful. I think if you split it about to here ...", he pointed to a place on the side of the bottle, "we can pull it apart and my balls will come free. My cock's already shrunk down, so that part shouldn't be any problem."
"What if I cut you?" she asked anxiously.
"Don't," he said simply. "If you cut in far enough and leave just a thin layer next to my skin, it will tear. Just be careful," he said.
Bob went back into the living room and sat down on the couch, leaning back with his legs spread. He pulled the bottle up toward his face, exposing the bottom side to Brandy, who knelt between his legs. First she cut the plastic, and peeled that off, leaving the bottle shaped mold. Then, carefully, she began slicing into that, in the area he had showed her. Bob reached down and, with both hands, tried to pull the latex apart as she cut it, exposing new material for her to slice into.
"This is so strange" said Brandy, mostly to herself.
"I don't even think Penthouse Forum would print this story," chuckled Bob.
Brandy frowned as she got deeper and deeper into the latex. "I don't know how close I'm getting," she said. "I'm afraid I'll cut you."
"Try poking the tip of the scalpel into the cut. Go very slowly and I'll tell you when I feel something," he said.
For lack of any better plan, Brenda did that. The first time she went halfway up the length of the blade, and when he didn't say anything, she sliced into the latex that deeply. He was able to pull it apart and she could see they had gotten almost two inches deep. The next time, as the scalpel blade got to the halfway point he jerked.
"I think you're almost there," he said, a little breathlessly.
Brandy cut in only a quarter of the length of the blade and told him to pull. She saw a tear open up, and could see flesh through it.
"Oooo you're doing it!" she squealed. "Keep pulling!"
Now she helped him, pulling the split apart. She told him to hold still and reached in to flick with the scalpel in a couple of places and then it happened. She could see his balls, or at least part of them.
Bob began to try to pull his cock and balls out of the mold. He stopped almost immediately. "Ow," he said shortly. "The hairs are stuck inside."
"What can I do?" asked Brandy.
"I don't think there's anything you can do. Go get a washcloth and run it under hot water. Wring it out and bring it back here."
Brandy ran to do that and heard moans and groans, mixed with several very bad words. When she got back, though, the soda bottle shaped mold was in his hands. His cock was lying on his stomach. There wasn't nearly as much hair around it as there had been when they started.
There were tears running down his face.
"Oh, you poor baby!" cooed Brandy as her maternal instincts kicked in. She dropped to her knees and spread the hot washcloth over his cock and balls, surrounding them with warmth and dampness. She molded the washcloth around his cock and he sighed as the heat provided some relief.
Bob looked down at his niece, kneeling naked between his thighs. Her hands were on his cock. The fact there was a washcloth between her skin and his didn't mean much, though, and he felt the familiar tingle of blood rushing into his sexual organ.
For her part Brandy felt his cock begin to get firmer and looked up at his face. She knew she should stop touching him, but she didn't want to.
"Is that better?" she asked.
Bob decided to go for broke. "It would be better now if you touched it without the washcloth. I need to know we haven't damaged anything," he said.
Brandy, not used to pure bullshit, laid the washcloth aside and took a breath as her hands reached for the first penis she had ever touched. She took it in both hands, gently cupping it. She was amazed at how soft the skin felt. It moved in strange ways too. She remembered how her brother had been rubbing it up and down and she tightened one hand, gripping his cock. Then she gave it an experimental stroke.
"Ahhhhhhh," sighed Bob.
"Is that okay?" she asked.
"Keep going, baby," he sighed.
"Uncle Bob, are you asking me to masturbate you?" asked Brandy, who was fascinated with the thing in her hand, and had no intention to stop. Some part of her mother had made her ask the politically correct question.
"Yes I am Brandy," admitted her uncle.
"Oh ... okay," said the part of Brandy that didn't want anything to do with her mother and was very interested in what she was doing.
Brandy watched as his cock got larger and larger and stiffer and stiffer until it was rock hard. Her amazement grew as the cock in her hand grew. This was fun!
"Am I doing it right?" she asked.
"You're doing it perfectly," he commended her. "You want me to do you while you do me?" he asked.
Brandy was shocked. The idea of her uncle playing with her pussy hadn't occurred to her. As it did, though, she realized that tingle in her pussy was back and the urge to rub was back too.
"Will it hurt?" she asked.
"It might hurt if you have a tight cherry," he admitted. "I assume by the things you've said that you've never played with yourself, right?"
"No, not really," she said. "Mother told me my hair would all fall out and I'd be bald for the rest of my life if I did that," she said. "She even showed me pictures of women that had happened to. They had to wear scarves on their heads."
"Those were cancer patients honey," said her uncle, saddened by what his sister had done to this poor girl. "It was chemo and radiation therapy that caused their hair to fall out, not masturbation."
"If I let you ... would you stop if I asked you to?" asked Brandy.
"Of course. I'll never do anything to you that you don't want me to," said Uncle Bob.
"Okay then," said the innocent girl.
Bob hopped up and grabbed her hand, leading her to his bedroom. "We'll be more comfortable in here ... more room," he explained.
Soon they were on the bed, side by side and her hand was wrapped around his stiff cock again. He slid his big callused hand between her arm and her side, letting his wrist touch the side of one breast, and then slid it down her side to her hip. He rubbed the skin there and looked into her eyes.
"Kiss me," he said.
Brandy had wanted to kiss a boy for as long as she could remember. But she'd never gotten the chance. On the few dates she'd been out on in college, she'd always been too scared to try kissing the boy, for fear she'd mess it up, or do it wrong. She leaned into her Uncle eagerly and planted two pencil hard lips against his. It didn't feel like anything special. She pulled away to see a smile in his eyes.
"Try this," he said. "Let your lips get loose ... soft ... and leave them a little bit apart."
Brandy leaned in again and his soft lips mashed against hers, moving them across her teeth. She felt a flash of heat shoot through her body as he moved his lips on hers. Now this she liked.
While this was going on, he slipped his hand between her legs.
Brandy felt his hand going where no man's hand had ever been, and instinctively she raised one knee, opening herself up for him. One of his thick fingers slid between her pussy lips and scraped across something that almost paralyzed her with the intensity of the feelings it caused. Her loins jerked in response and her mouth went "UH!" into his.
Bob broke the kiss and let the tip of his finger find her virgin hole. He felt her hymen at the bottom of the slit and pressed against it to test it. She jerked again, this time in pain and he withdrew. He rubbed her clit some more and her hips began vibrating and moving as he moaned into his next kisses. She had stopped jerking on him, but he didn't mind. He was having too much fun playing a sexual tune on this beautiful girl's body. He began to feel her pussy getting slipperier and found her hole again. This time he slid his finger above her cherry, getting it into her pussy up to the second knuckle before the thickness of his finger stretched her enough to cause pain.
"Ohhh, that hurts a little bit," she complained. "But it feels gooood too. Can you go in a little more?"
"That's your cherry stretching," he told her. "If I put my finger all the way in it might tear your cherry and you wouldn't be a virgin any more."
"Oh," she sighed. "Try just a little more."
Bob pushed deeper and she winced. He couldn't tell if he'd torn it or not. Her pussy was so tight that all he could feel was her skin pressing onto his finger. He lay the base of his fingers on her clit and hooked the finger that was in her. Then he finger-fucked her, moving the finger only an inch in and out, but rubbing her clitty with every stroke.
Brandy's hand left his cock completely as she rolled onto her back, spreading her legs more. She began panting. Her perky upturned nipples, on her cantaloupe sized breasts were right in front of Bob's face, and he couldn't resist. He leaned over and sucked one nipple into his mouth.
Brandy's eyes popped open as she felt her uncle's mouth on her breast and something inside of her seemed to break, like a bungee cord that was stretched too far. As it snapped, the feeling in her pussy intensified and began to flow outward. She heard herself let out an agonized groan as that feeling washed through her body and into her brain, where it blasted everything else out of her head. All she could see, feel, or think about, was that fantastic feeling in her pussy as his thick finger massaged her inside.
From Bob's vantage point, she went still, frozen. Then her hips bounced up off the bed as her back arched violently. Her butt fell back to the bed and her heels came up to her butt, digging into the bed. Then her back arched again and her pussy came up farther off the bed as her throat made a noise that sounded more like it was coming from a coyote than a girl in her late teens. Air rushed in and out of her lungs as she gasped over and over.
Then she went limp.
Bob left his finger right where it was. Her orgasm had produced the thick slick fluid that was designed to close up her vaginal channel, almost gluing it shut so that if there was any sperm in there, it wouldn't run out. This organic "glue" stuck to his finger, sealing her pussy to it. He knew from experience that if he just pulled his finger out, it could cause her pain as her sensitive tissues were pulled and stretched. So he just held her, his finger stuck up in her. Her chest rose and fell rapidly as she tried to get her breath.
Finally she rolled her head and smiled at him. "That was wonderful," she said.
"I'm going to take my finger out of you now," he said. He actually pushed it in a little further to break the seal and she winced. Once broken, though, he could withdraw the digit easily. She moaned a little as he did so, acting unhappy that she was losing something that had brought her so much pleasure.
"Was that an orgasm?" she asked, her eyes half closed.
"Yup," he said. "Kind of fun, huh?"
"And I won't go bald?"
"Or crazy," he confirmed.
"Thank you," she said.
"Sweetheart, it was a fantasy come true. I had just as good a time as you did."
"Did you have an orgasm too?" she asked.
"No, but that's okay. I had such a good time watching you I didn't even notice."
"But it's not fair if I get to feel good and you don't." She rolled over to face him. Her nakedness, her obvious comfort with being naked in bed with him, made his cock like iron. He wanted to fuck this beautiful nymph. But that was out of the question. His attention was caught by the end of her next statement. "... anything I can do?"
"You could masturbate me again," he said. "That would help a lot."
"Okay!" she said brightly. "I like doing that!"
She got up on her knees and leaned over him, grasping his cock and rubbing sensually up and down. "It still has little pieces of rubber stuck to it." she noted as she jerked him. Her hand felt so good. He looked at her hanging breasts. He couldn't see her pussy, but the memory of how hot and slick and tight it had felt fueled his cum. She didn't have to jerk him long.
"Okay Brandy, honey, I'm about to cum," he warned her.
"Oh goody. I want to see it," she said, looking straight down in the cock she was jerking.
"Honey you need to back up," he warned her.
To Brandy, "backing up" meant taking several steps backward. She didn't want to do that. She wanted her hand around his penis when it started doing whatever it was going to do. Never having had sex ed, and not having a clear idea of what an 'ejaculation' was, the only thing she could compare it to was her own orgasm, which had made her feel so fantastic.
So, when a long stream of semen rocketed out of his cock and splatted right on her right cheek ... Brandy was surprised.
Now the natural thing to do when you're surprised is to gasp. It gets air into your lungs to fuel the fight or flight reaction that kicks in when the "surprise" sign lights up in your brain. To gasp requires that you take air in quickly. You can't do that through your nose, so the normal thing to do when gasping is to open your mouth and take air in through that.
Brandy was normal. Her mouth opened and she gasped. His second shot of sperm promptly blasted right into her mouth.
There is another automatic reaction we should mention here. When something gets in your mouth, even if it's a foreign object, like say a chip of wood, or a bug or something the wind blew there, the natural thing to do is close your mouth. That's actually to keep more of whatever from getting into your mouth, and prepare to spit whatever it is out. But in the process, you automatically taste whatever it is that already got there.
If it tastes bad you spit and hack and maybe even cough. If it has a neutral taste, like a chip of wood, you usually explore it with your tongue and teeth to try and figure out what it is, or to get it in position to take it out of your mouth. Sometimes we don't just spit. That's because, for some unknown reason, we always want to know just exactly what it was that got into our mouth.
Brandy was normal. Her mouth closed and she tasted her uncle's semen. While it wasn't exactly a neutral taste, it wasn't something horrible either and she had no automatic urge to spit. Her tongue and teeth tried to analyze the substance, but by the time she figured out what had happened, her third normal response had kicked in.
That happened about the time Bob's third jet of spunk splatted right where she'd have a moustache if she were a male.
Part of her brain married up Bob's warning: "Move back", with the facts and circumstances she was experiencing, and she sat up. Bob's sperm promptly dripped off her face and fell on her perfect teenage breasts. One long drooping drip went between her breasts, stuck to her belly button and began oozing its way down her abdomen like it knew where it was really supposed to be, and was trying its best to somehow get there.
For Bob, seeing his cum on his niece's face, and hearing her gulping swallow ... well, at that point he felt he could die happy right then and there.
The "EWWWWW" factor set in, however, and both of Brandy's hands started flopping out from her sides. While that mysterious substance didn't taste bad, she wasn't wild about having it all over her face.
"Hang on baby," said her Uncle Bob in a calm voice. "I'll get something to clean you up." He hopped up off the bed and got a warm wash cloth, when he then cleaned her up with as she calmed down.
When he was done he put the cloth down. "Sorry baby. I should have given you more information," he said.
Brandy, with a typical teenage attention span, said, "Oh, it's okay. It wasn't so bad I guess. In fact I'd have to say that was the most fun I've had in a long time," she said brightly.
They got up and got dressed and Bob set to work. First he cut the mold open with a large butcher knife along just one side. The latex was pliable enough he could then unfold it to see the interior and examine what they'd made.
It was amazing to see the incredible detail. Every vein, every fold of skin, even the pebbled texture of his ball sack was all there in exquisite faithful reproduction. He frowned at the hairs that were sticking out all over the place. He tried pulling on them, to get them out of their rubber prison, but they were too slick.
"It won't matter," he said. He went to the kitchen and came back with a can of Pam cooking spray, which he had Brandy spray into the mold before he closed it and wrapped it with a towel and then duct tape. He mixed up a new batch of silicone, this time using the pink kind, and poured it in. When the flesh colored liquid had filled it completely he set it aside and they had something to eat.
They let it go half an hour, just to be sure, because it was so thick. Then Bob unwrapped the duct tape and took the towel off. He pried very carefully at the cut section ... and it came open like a banana being peeled.
Inside was a perfect reproduction of his erect penis and full balls.
It was incredible. Both of them examined it like it was some lost treasure, come back into the light after being in someone's closet for a hundred years. It caused flutters in Brandy's belly, just like the original had. When she took it in her hand it even felt real because the heat created in the curing process was still in it.
"Wow," she said, holding it by the balls and stroking it like she had stroked him. "It even feels real!"
Bob grinned. "If that doesn't get you the best grade possible then nothing will."
"Yeah, except that I have to have two more to go with it. How am I going to convince Daddy and Bobby to let me do theirs too?"
Bob smiled gently. "Sweety, if you tell them that, in the process of doing this, you have to be naked too ... to ensure success ... they'll do it. Trust me on that."
"But they probably don't think I'm pretty like you do," said Brandy.
"I have a hundred dollar bill that says you're wrong," said Bob.
"I could use a hundred dollars," said Brandy, "But if I lost I could never pay you."
Bob pulled her in for another hot kiss. "I think I could come up with a way for you to satisfy your debt. Are we on?"
"Sure!" said Brandy, feeling brave after all that had happened.
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