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I used to hate it when my sister would have a sleepover for a friend or two. What self respecting boy wanted several girls around the house? Even a single sister was a bit much at times.
I found, however, that as my sister grew older I could take a more tolerant outlook on these things. A more mature attitude you might say. (Helped by the fact that her friends were all growing boobs of course.)
Now that’s she and her friends are all eighteen plus, I’m downright blasé about the occasional sleepover. I don’t even mind when she has a friend stay for a long weekend.
Nancy, that’s my sister, recently had Becky stay for a few days. Becky I might point out has grown into a young lady who is very easy on the eye. I had some fun teasing Becky a couple of times over those few days.
The first time was on the first morning of her stay, quite early in the morning. I’d only just gotten up and dressed and was strolling towards the kitchen for breakfast. As I passed my sister’s bedroom, the door blew open. It does that sometime, as the catch is defective and you have to bang it hard to close it properly. I heard a squeal and looked up.
Becky was standing there, wearing these tiny bikini panties. That’s it. I naturally looked her over. One should always stop and admire the finer things in life, and she was one of the finest I’d seen in a while.
Becky was trying to cover her breasts with her hands, but she had small hands and not so small breasts. She was having difficulty covering her abundance, not to mention those bikini panties giving me a view of a pair of splendid legs.
She squealed at me to close the door, so being a gentleman, I did. She then squealed even louder and said she meant with me on the outside.
I gave a theatrical sigh and went to step outside again. Before I left, however, I paused and asked her to put her hands down for a second.
Becky gave me an insulted look. “You’ve got to be kidding. Just go. Please.” The please was added when I didn’t seem to be in a hurry to flee the scene.
“OK, I’m going,” I told her, my voice as soothing as syrup. “Hands down for a moment first.”
“What makes you think I’m going to flash my breasts for you?” she demanded.
“Good manners? I am your host.”
That drew a laugh, which is the first step to getting what I want. She dropped her hands for a moment and blushed at my whistle of appreciation. Then her hands were covering her breasts again and I was gone, closing the door firmly.
When she came out later, I winked at her and she blushed, but I didn’t try to push it any further.
The next morning I was walking past my sister’s bedroom and the door was open. Becky was sitting on the bed in flannel pyjamas. She had tousled hair and a sleepy look and she looked awfully cute.
Thinking it was only polite to say good morning, I wandered in, leaving the door open to give her confidence. I wouldn’t want her to think I was stalking her.
I gave her a cheerful, “Good morning,” as I came over, to which pendik escort she answered with a sleepy “Hi.”
I considered her for a moment, then reached down and started undoing the button on her pyjama top.
She looked down at what I was doing, puzzled, and then asked, “What do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m just undoing your buttons,” I told her carelessly, as though it was a thing of little import. “I thought it would be nice to see your lovely breasts again.”
She just came back with a rather blank faced “Oh!”, still being only half awake.
She became a lot more awake when I finished undoing her buttons and then gently pushed her top off her shoulders. Suddenly it dawned on her that she was sitting there in front of me with her boobs on display. Again.
Becky tried to straighten her top up again, but I just touched her arm and told her to wait a moment. Then I brushed her breasts with the tips of my fingers and pulled her top back up for her. It was still undone, but it did swing forward to cover most of her breasts.
I put my hand under her elbow and lifted slightly, encouraging her to stand. She did so, but she was also busy fastening her buttons again.
While Becky was doing that, my hands were going down to her pyjama bottom, and I eased them down. By the time Becky fully twigged to what I was doing, they were nearly at her knees.
This time, her “What do you think you’re doing?” was somewhat louder and sharper.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” I said hastily and apologetically. “I was just thinking of those cute bikini panties you had on yesterday and I wanted to see if you were wearing something similar. I guess I went a bit too far.”
“I should think you did,” she snapped. “A bit too far, he says. Why didn’t you pull down my panties as well?”
“I thought that would have been a bit forward,” I murmured, “but seeing you suggest it…”
I reached down and gave her panties a gentle downward tug. Not far, but far enough to see that she shaved. I went to stroke her there, but she squawked and hastily sat down again, legs tightly closed and her pussy covered with her pyjama top.
“I think it’s time you were on your way,” Becky said firmly. “Please close the door on the way out.”
I winked and departed, closing the door firmly behind me.
The next morning, the last day of Becky’s visit, I was little late getting up. I was still wandering around the bedroom in my pyjamas when there was a tap on the door. I yelled come in, and Becky strolled in, fully dressed.
She smiled and said good morning. Said that as I hadn’t burst into her room this morning she’d considered turn about fair play and had come to kick me out of bed.
I pointed out that I was out of bed, so she was a little late, but she just laughed. I thought she was going to leave them, as she turned partly away from me, but then she turned back to me, winked and said “Turn about is fair play in everything.”
Next thing I knew she had grabbed my pyjamas and given them a hefty maltepe escort downward yank, leaving me effectively naked. With a morning wood. Quite a handsome morning wood if I do say so myself.
Becky didn’t realise what she’d exposed at first. She was laughing at me, watching my face, enjoying the startled look I must have had.
“How do you like it,” she said, “losing your pyjamas like that.”
That was when she looked down, blinked, and registered what she was looking at. She turned an interesting shade of red and her head jerked up so she was not looking down. I’m surprised that she didn’t turn and bolt.
“Problem?” I asked her.
“I. Ah. I didn’t know. That is.” She sounded somewhat incoherent.
Then she took a deep breath, swallowed, and seemed to get control of herself. Her eyes flickered downwards again to check on what she had seen, and then jerked back to my face.
“Pull your pyjamas up,” she hissed at me.
“Why? You pulled them down. You pull them back up.”
Becky swallowed again, and without looking down she reached down to pull the pyjama trousers back up. She really should have looked, because by an odd coincidence, a slight shift of my hips moved my cock just under her groping hand, which closed smoothly over it and held.
Becky’s colour now faded and then came surging back again. But she didn’t let go.
“Doesn’t that hurt, when it’s swollen like that?” she asked.
I shook my head. “It’s just pressure,” I told her. “The situation will correct itself very soon.”
“This is one of those cases where you either use it, or lose it,” I went on. “I can either put it to use or ignore it. If I ignore it, it will eventually go down again.”
“How are you going to use it, if you do?” Becky asked me, seeming to be honestly curious. “Are you going to masturbate?”
“Well, that has not been my intention since you came into the room,” I told her, and watched her think this one over.
“You want me to give you a hand job?” she asked, nervousness plain in her voice.
“A blow job?” she whispered, when I shook my head.
“Would you?” I asked.
I could see her chewing that one over. Should she or shouldn’t she?
I broke into her thoughts before she could come to a firm decision either way. “What I want you to do is just stand there for a moment,” I told her, “while I even the situation.”
While she waited I lifted up her dress and gently pulled her panties, bikini type of course, down.
Becky’s face was shining bright red again. “Why did you do that,” she whispered.
“How many reasons do you want?” I asked. “Will three do?”
At her nod, I continued. “It makes the clothing situation even, it allows me to lift your dress and see you, and it will make it so much easier for me when I take you.”
Becky gave a feeble “Oh,” and said nothing more.
Lifting her dress, I started gently rubbing the front of her pussy. Not doing anything fancy, I just rubbed her mons, pressing down against her pubic kartal escort bone, letting the soothing yet tantalising touch carry down into her.
Giving her every chance to stop me, my hand dipped lower, stoking her labia and pressing gently against her slit, threatening at any moment to move inside it.
Becky was starting to breath harder now, shuffling her feet slightly to give me better access. Now I was stroking the full length of her lips, pressing and kneading, with my finger occasionally parting her lips and darting inside.
I’m not sure if Becky realised it, but her hand was still holding my erection, and was now moving slowly up and down it, feeling it.
I put one hand on her bottom and urged her closer to me, and very shortly I was sitting on the bed while she was standing astride my legs, fondling my erection.
My exploring fingers rubbed against her vagina, then dipped deeper into it. Not a virgin I noted with satisfaction. Leaving her vagina I brushed lightly up against her clitoris, rubbing it lightly, and feeling the shudders that ran through her.
“Are you on the pill?” I gently queried, and on her nod I pulled her even closer to me.
Now her hand was holding my cock scant inches from her entrance. My hands drifted to her hips and gently tugged downward. As though in a dream, Becky sank down onto me, deftly moving my cock between her legs, guiding it carefully into her slit.
Finally Becky had to let the erection go, her hands coming up to go around my neck as she settled herself firmly onto me. She was now straddling me, my cock fully inside her, and her legs were on the bed and curling around me.
Once Becky had committed herself, she seemed determined to enjoy herself. She pushed up her top and bra, obviously wanting me to get at those magnificent breasts, and I was only too happy to please.
Soon Becky was moving against me in fine style. She started slowly, bouncing up and down on my lap, taking her timing from the way I was squeezing her breasts. I let her go for it for a while, enjoying watching her take her pleasure while feeding mine.
After a while, our interaction started to speed up. I twisted onto the bed, pinning Becky beneath me while I increased the length and speed of my stroke. Now I was pulling almost completely out of her before slamming back in hard and fast, bringing little mewling squeals from Becky, who hastened to meet my every thrust.
Hearing those squeals getting louder, I moved my mouth from where I had been tasting her breasts and covered her mouth, swallowing the noise she was making while doing my best to make her scream.
We were both coming together furiously, each determined to have our full enjoyment from this interlude, knowing it couldn’t last much longer.
Then we were just coming, our climaxes hitting us as one, giving us our release and our victory.
Lying on Becky, enjoying the taste and feel of her, I told her that that was the proper way to handle a morning wood.
“Do you have one every morning,” she asked.
“Generally,” I said with a grin, “but normally I have to wait until they subside.”
“Just think. If you’d told me two days ago, I could have handled those for you as well,” she said, laughter in her eyes.
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