William Spain

Tommy_s little sister

CHAPTER ONE

They've got me in this vocational school for wayward boys and they've also got my kid sister in another joint that's supposed to help girls who "go wrong". My sister and I got mixed up with these two weirdo characters who made bread out of sex stuff. I hold no grudge against Mrs. Devine and her brother Basil. Hell, I had me a ball with them – with Mrs. Devine, I mean. She was really something else, that woman. The only trouble was that my sister and I were too young to be fooling around with the sex bit, I guess. Anyway, that's what they told us, the authorities, the doe's and everybody. Lot they know about it. Nuts.

As I was saying, they've got me in this school and ever day I had to go to the doc's office and tell him a bit more about what he calls the "unusual situation". It took me about a month, maybe longer, to give out with the whole story, detail by detail.

Sometimes I got the impression the old doc was more interested in hearing about the sex scenes than he was in "helping" me. After I told him the complete story, he suggested (therapy, he called it) I go to the reading room of the school every day and write the whole affair down on paper. (They have several typewriters there and the kids are encouraged to use them.) Well, I figured it was better to do this than go to work in the lousy laundry like the other guys do, some of them, so I did as he told me.

So I wrote the story of my sister, myself, Mrs. Devine and Basil. This is how it all came about and I haven't changed anything. It really happened just as I have put it down here.

"Elly," I muttered. "Elly."

I shuddered at the thought and knew that if I gave way to this impulse it could get me into awful trouble with my parents, but my parents were away. They had gone to the lake the day before, leaving Elly and me alone in the house. Elly (my sister, if you haven't guessed that) was thirteen. Did I dare to try it? I found myself leaping up from the bed and running across the bedroom floor. When I got to the hall door, something slowed me down. I stopped, my heart hammering furiously, and considered the consequences briefly. The hell with the consequences, my inflamed mind told me. Go to her, Tommy, go to her and find out. I left my room and ran down the hall to Elly's door. It stood ajar and with my heart beating more furiously now I entered the room and approached the bed where Elly lay sleeping quietly. Dawn was beginning to lighten the room, so I could see her fairly well. She lay on her back with one arm above her head and on the pillow. Her blonde hair hung down around her pretty, angelic face, and this only served to make me hotter. Her nightdress was white and cut square and low in the front, affording me a look at her young, exciting breasts.

"Elly," I whispered, though there was no need to whisper, "are you asleep?" There was no need to ask this, either, for she was very much asleep. She stirred a little and moved her lips a bit. "Elly," I repeated, and then said the first thing that came to my mind. "I'm cold. I've been dreaming. Can I get in bed with you?"

She surprised me. "Don't care." She moved over a little on the bed, turning her back to me, the covers falling down off her back and revealing the fact that her buttocks were now uncovered by her nightie. "What's the matter?" she muttered thickly, and dropped off to sleep again, if she had ever really been awake. My dingus was extremely hard now and I pulled my pajamas over to one side to cover it as I placed one knee on the bed. "You sleeping?" I asked.

She grunted and moved on the bed again. My heart now was threatening to leap out of my body and as I lay down carefully on the bed I knew fear for a moment. What if she should wake up and get mad at me and later tell our parents? Man, would I be in for trouble. My body shook from this momentary fear, and then I remembered a couple of cracks I had once overheard concerning my kid sister. I even remembered how I had beat the hell out of one guy when I heard him say something bad about her. This knowledge seemed to strengthen my resolve not to weaken now, but to go ahead and try it. I was in a bad way. I was in a good way, I mean, but a bad one, too, depending on your point of view. I pulled the sheet up over my body and sank my head down on the pillow. I turned on my side with my dingus pointing at her body and as I did so she moved in her sleep and her buttocks touched the head of it. I shivered and nearly went off but did not. She grunted once or twice and I, my hand shaking considerably, put my arm carelessly over her body. She moved and halfheartedly tried to push my arm away without really knowing what she was doing, for I was sure she was still sleeping.

I was growing wilder by the moment. Discretion was flying, had flown, out of the window and I moved my body up closer to hers. Her body was warm and nice and exciting, and as my dingus touched her buttocks again, I wondered if she would holler if I suddenly rammed it in between her legs.

The truth was, I didn't dare move that fast. I knew I had to control myself to a certain extent, had to go very slow with her or I'd be in trouble. I was so hot now that I could have blown all over her bare butt, but I didn't want to do that. I knew I had to get her excited, too. This was very important. I had to get her excited and wanting it as much as I, for then she wouldn't be able to point the finger at me and say it was all my fault, which of course it was, or would be.

In short, I knew I had to be something of a heel, but there's nothing really wrong with that. When a guy is hot and hard up he has to act like a heel sometimes or he'll never get any – not ever. I knew I'd feel lousy about it later, but right now… well, right now who cared about feeling lousy later. Guys aren't built that way. They can't think that far ahead and get what they want.

I took my piece between my thumb and forefinger and shoved it gently between her warm thighs. She flopped over quickly on her back, her eyes wide and regarding me with a very strange look.

"What do you think you're doing, Tommy?" she asked. She didn't really look mad, just startled.

I couldn't think of the right thing to say, so I said nothing.

She sat up on the bed and brushed her blonde hair out of her face. "Tommy, why are you in my bed?"

"I told you," I said grumpily. "I was cold. Asked you and you said you didn't care."

"I said that? I don't believe it, Tommy."

"Well… you did," I replied defensively. "You told me to hop right in with you. That's just what you said."

She squinted her blue eyes at me. "You were dreaming. Right?"

I found it difficult to meet her gaze but managed to do so. "Yeah, I was having a wild dream."

She was silent for a moment. "I know how it is, Tommy. I have them, too, sometimes."

"Girls have dreams?" I asked. Hell, I'd never heard this before. Not the kind of dreams I was talking about.

She giggled. "Have 'em all the time, Tommy."

"Then you aren't… mad at me?"

"I don't know," she said slowly, soberly. "You might tell somebody."

"I won't tell nobody, Elly. I won't tell… Dad or Mom. You think I'm nuts! Just let me… stay here in bed."

She was silent.

"Elly, you mean girls have dreams about… about guys wanting them?"

She giggled. "Sure, silly. Lots of 'em."

I groaned, my heart hammering wildly again, not that it had ever stopped doing so, really, but I hadn't been conscious of it the past few moments. "That's what I was doing, Elly. I was dreaming about this woman and she was beggin' me to, uh. You know what I mean?"

Elly giggled again. "Sure I do. She wanted you to… do something and then you woke up."

"Yeah. Then I woke up. I'm awful… I'm awful…"

"Awful hot, Tommy?"

I gulped. "Yeah. Just awful. I'm going nuts from it."

"And you want me to…" she said softly.

"Sort of. I got to do… it to somebody, damn it."

"Don't swear at me, Tommy. Don't you ever swear at me."

"Wasn't swearing at you, Elly. Just swearing."

"Well, don't. Swearing doesn't help."

I did a stupid thing then. I mean I said something stupid. I said, "I've heard you use words that were worse than swearing."

I was getting more and more desperate and all this talk didn't help much. "Elly," I said, my speech suddenly thick. "Touch me, will you?"

She flopped on her side again with her face turned away from mine. "Touch you… where, Tommy?"

"You know," I said, gulping.

"I don't want to do that, Tommy I'm your… sister."

"What difference does that make?" I said, fiercely. "Nobody here but us. Who's gonna know but you and me?"

She was silent again for a moment. Then: "Tommy, do you know what adults call this?"

"No, what?" I knew, but I wanted to hear her say it, if she really knew and wasn't just girl-faking. Girl-faking is when a girl pretends she knows a lot more about something than a guy but really doesn't.

"They call it incest, Tommy."

"I don't care," I said roughly, the word having shook me quite a bit. "I don't care what they call it."

She moved her body slightly so that her buttocks brushed against my agonized dingus. "Did you like that, Tommy?" she asked softly.

I sucked in air like crazy. "Yes. Do it again, Elly."

"No," she said. "I'm not gonna do it again."

"Elly… can I?"

"Can you what?"

"You know, damn it."

"I told you not to swear at me."

"Nuts," I said. "Nuts."

"You can, Tommy," she said quietly. "But if you ever tell anyone, I'll… brain you."

"You mean it?" I asked, my heart caught in my throat now. It seemed to be, at least. "Do you really mean that, stupid?"

I rammed my peter between her legs suddenly, but she jumped away and flipped over on her back, her eyes angry. "That's not the way!" she cried. "What's the matter with you?"

I was bewildered. "What do you mean, Elly?" I stammered.

"You have to make a girl hot first, silly. Play with me."

"You mean play with your…"

"Play with my titties, Tommy. Haven't you ever been out with a girl?"

"Course I have," I retorted. "What do you think I am – a stupe? How was I to know you wanted me to play with your titties?"

"You always play with a girl's titties, Tommy. Always."

She was looking at me now and I didn't want her to. "Turn over on your side again," I said softly, my small amount of resentment having left me. "I'll play with your old titties if that's what you want."

She glared at me. "Well… you don't have to, you know. If you wanna go back to your own bed, go ahead."

I had gone too far. I pulled back immediately. "I'm sorry, Elly. It's just that when a guy gets hot like I am he… he doesn't know… he doesn't know what he's doing."

She giggled again. "Sure. I know. Only… play with me for a while. Gee, I want some fun out of it, too, you know."

"You do?" I asked, my heart hammering furiously again. It was wildly exciting to hear a girl say that.

"Course I do. What's the matter with you, anyway? Do you think I'm dead just because I'm a girl?"

"I just never thought…" I had to break off the sentence because I wasn't sure of what I had been about to say.

"Why don't you play with me, stupid?"

I didn't much care for this. "Wish you wouldn't call me that. I don't call you names."

"Okay, Tommy. I'm sorry."

I put my hand on her titty and she sighed. "You like that, don't you?" I asked, my voice sounding hollow.

"Yes. It makes goose bumps all over me. Rub the nipple, Tommy, rub it gently. Make me real hot like you are."

I rubbed her nipple gently and she thrust her hand in back of her and I felt her fingers going around my cock, felt her running her hand up and down on it. I squirted a little on her butt and she giggled nervously.

"You hit me," she said. "You hit me with your stuff, Tommy."

I was breathing hard now. "Yeah," I said hoarsely. "Man, am I ever hot."

"Rub my titties harder now, Tommy. Then you can stick it in."

"All right," I said, my voice sounding as if it came from a mile off. I rubbed her titties hard, making circling motions, and she cried out once or twice and squirmed about a lot on the bed. "You really love that, Elly, don't you?"

"Take your pajama pants off, Tommy. I'll take off my nightie and put it under me."

"What for? Why put your nighties under you?"

"So Mom won't know, stupid. Supposing you squirt all over the sheet?" She sat up and yanked her nightie over her head and placed it under her butt.

"Won't Mom see it if I get it on your nightie?" I asked.

"I can wash my nightie and she won't think anything of it, but if I washed the sheet she might wonder about it I never wash my sheets but often do my nightie."

I grinned nervously. "You got everything figured out, haven't you… and all the time I was scared of what you'd do… if I crawled in bed with you."