Zoe’s Adventure
Zoe’s Adventure
by
Caliboy1991
I knew I was spoiled as a girl. I had the toys I wanted and my parents threw me nice parties each birthday. But by the time I was twelve, I knew something was wrong that even my parents’ money couldn’t fix. My chest was as flat as a pancake. Every other girl, no matter how flat in the chest she was, at least had nice puffy titties. Not me. From the waist up, I looked just like a boy. Of course, had I worn my hair longer, people might have mistaken me for a girl, but I liked my hair short, even if I didn’t like not having any boobs.
Mom wasn’t concerned. She was a late bloomer herself and she said to give Mother Nature time and I’ll come into my own. Turns out she was wrong. I needed a health physical for the ninth grade. My doctor was concerned enough that he got me in to see a specialist who did some blood work. That doctor told us that my short height — I was a couple of inches short of five feet — was because my body didn’t produce enough growth hormones that I needed to get taller. She also said that I wasn’t producing any estrogen. That’s why I had the body of a ten-year-old.
By then, my bones had pretty much fused into their adult height. Taking growth hormones wasn’t going to help. But I started regular injections of estrogen and waited for nature to finally kick in.
And waited. By my sophomore year, my nipples had finally started to get puffy and stick out from my flat chest, but there was no breast tissue. My girl parts still looked the same. No change. I tried to find a silver lining and about the only thing that came to mind was that I didn’t have to shave my pits or my legs. I guess I could have shaved the downy hair all kids have on their legs and arms, but it wasn’t particularly noticeable and doing so wasn’t going to make any other hair come in faster. Also, I didn’t miss the messy periods that were the bane of my girlfriends.
My junior year was a disaster in more ways than one. My dad’s brother and his wife were killed in a burglary gone wrong. My cousin, Alex, was just three. And he was found beside his parents’ bodies, covered in their blood. My parents were the closest relatives and my dad had been listed as my cousin’s guardian in my aunt and uncle’s will.
The first few months that Alex lived with us were hard. When he moved in, he’d wake up screaming in the dead of the night. I recall he’d been with us a month when I woke up to another screaming fit. Mom and Dad hadn’t come upstairs yet, so I went in. He was sitting up, tears streaking down his face. Through his sobs, he kept saying, “Momma! Momma!”
I nearly broke down crying right then. I couldn’t imagine what it must be like for Alex to have lost the only family he knew. I crawled onto his bed and gave him a hug. He surprised me by how quickly he settled back down and, in a few minutes, he snuggled against me, a little spoon to my larger one, and fell asleep.
When Dad came into his room a couple of minutes later, he came over and gave me a tired smile before kissing me on my forehead. He whispered, “You okay, Zoe? I can take over. Let you go back to sleep.”
“We’re good,” I mouthed and shook my head. A few minutes later, I fell asleep, too.
Just before Alex moved in with us, I learned from my OB/GYN that I’d never get to have children. Where my ovaries were supposed to be was just empty space. Learning I’d never have children was difficult, even when I was going through my little goth phase when I’d dyed my strawberry-blond hair black and wore it shorter than a lot of the guys.
At sixteen, you’re supposed to feel like you’re a budding woman. You want to feel sexy, to be an object of desire. But no guy would look at me, except to laugh. Of course, that got me wondering if maybe I was a lesbian.
One of my girlfriends in the eleventh grade played for that team. When I asked if she wanted to have a sleepover, she surprised me at how quickly she agreed. And that night, she confessed that she likes girls who are, as she put it, kind of butch. I think what she meant was girls who dressed more like boys and less like girls. I’d never seen myself like that, even though my physique lent itself to boyish clothing, which I favored simply to hide my lack of development.
I didn’t get any sleep that night, I don’t think. I learned what it felt like to get your pussy eaten out and to return the favor. I learned what it felt like to have someone lick your nipples until you want to scream. I also learned that even though I liked that girl as a friend, there was no connection. No spark.
Also, by this time I was feeling really discouraged. I was two years into the estrogen shots. I was convinced my nipples would have looked a lot better on boobs with some fatty tissue on them. I had taken to wearing a beginner’s bra. Not because I needed it, but because the padding hid my nipples when they got hard and because it made me look like I had more than I did.
The only hairs below my waist were short, fine, vellus hairs. My OB/GYN doctor sent me over to a specialist who came back and told us that because I didn’t have ovaries that my body’s androgen level was too low to help kickstart pubic hair and the like. The solution was to take injections to supplement what my body wasn’t making.
When I pressed the specialist, she told me that it is possible that as I continue with the estrogen treatments that those may trigger more androgen production. In the end, she said she recommended that I take it because it would help with my self-esteem issues and to feel more like a woman. When I told her I needed time to think about it, she said that whenever I wanted to start was fine with her.
It was right after that when Alex moved in.
The second night after I’d gone in and slept beside him, Alex’s cries woke me up again and, sure enough, as soon as I snuggled up against him, he fell asleep. Mom and Dad thought it was the coolest thing. They were getting sleep again. And holding my tiny cousin filled the void that had crept into my heart after learning that having my own child was an impossibility.
The third night, Mom had just got home from a society event that she hosted and when she stopped by my room, I was doing homework while Alex was on the floor playing with some building blocks. Mom smiled at me, “He seems to have warmed to you, Zoe.”
“Yeah, the little munchkin seems to like it in here.”
Mom yawned, “I’m dead on my feet. Do you mind giving Alex his bath tonight?”
I shrugged. Mom or Dad had handled that part. “Sure, I guess so.”
That’s when I learned that not all little boys look the same. I’d seen pictures in health class of a boy’s body. I’d even seen one of the band nerds’ dicks when one of the football players pantsed him. Unlike the picture or that band nerd, Alex’s little head was hidden behind a small tube of skin.
When I ran in and told Mom that I thought something was wrong, she laughed and said, “That’s his foreskin. Outside of the US, it’s a lot more common for boys to not be circumcised.”
I’d forgotten that Alex was adopted. My aunt and uncle brought him back from Russia when he was about six months old. He’d been born six weeks early and had spent the first six months of his life malnourished. Even at three, he was very small for his age.
As I started back upstairs, Mom said, “You need to clean under his foreskin. Otherwise, he could get an infection.”
So, that first bath with Alex was interesting, to say the least. I’d washed his front and his back before I finally took his little penis in my hand and pulled at the extra skin. His foreskin peeled back, exposing his tiny, little mushroom of a head. By the time I’d cleaned it, his little boyhood was erect.
He’d also gotten my shirt soaked. I was picking him out of the tub when Dad came in, “Thanks, honey, for getting him bathed.”
When he saw me soaked, he came over and poked Alex in the belly button. The boy squealed and twisted. “Stop,” he giggled.
“You’re a messy little guy, aren’t you?”
I’d gotten him out of the tub and was washing him off as Dad said, “You’re about soaked through, Zoe.”
I gave him a glare. It was obvious that Dad didn’t enjoy giving the boy a bath any more than I had. “Any suggestions?”
“I’ll mention it to your mom, but Alex is young enough that I don’t see there being any harm if you let him bathe with you.”
And that’s how I wound up taking my baths with my little cousin.
By the time I was eighteen, my boobs had a slight swelling under my nipples. Also, the puffiness that I’d associated with little girls was a bit less noticeable down below. I even had a few hairs that I considered bonafide pubic hairs.
About the time I graduated from high school, everyone but Alex decided it was time to ween him off our baths. Part of me really didn’t care. After two years, I actually enjoyed our baths. It took another year for him to get to the point where he could bathe himself.
By the time I turned twenty, my OB/GYN and the hormone specialist said that unless I wanted to take hormone shots to supplement my androgen deficiency, that my body was probably done growing. That was a shame, I thought. The swells in my boobs didn’t really fill the padded AA cup I wore to classes. Also, I’d started to regret not taking the extra androgen shots. I still thought my pussy looked underdeveloped, but there wasn’t much I could do now. Those few lonesome hairs at eighteen had been joined by a few more. But my treasure trail turned into a barren field within a couple inches of my labia.
After two years at the local community college, for my junior and senior years of college I moved to Austin to finish up at University of Texas. It was hard to be away from home. I missed my parents but Alex had been such a huge part of my life from when he moved in with us when I was sixteen until I headed off to Austin when I was twenty. It feels good to know you matter to someone else. That’s why I didn’t really mind those twice-a-week phone calls where’d he’d breathlessly tell me about everything in his life.
When I graduated, I got my teaching certificate. Taking care of Alex had helped to define what I wanted to do with my life — I knew I wanted to spend my life teaching kids how to read and write. While I wanted to move back to my hometown, I realized most available jobs were going to somewhere else. So, you can only imagine my surprise when Mom called me up a few weeks after I graduated and said that the school where I’d gone as a little girl had an opening.
I’m not sure how, but Mom had pulled some strings, and used her society connections, and the fall after my twenty-second birthday found me teaching in the very classroom I’d sat in as a student fifteen years before.
I could have afforded a small apartment on my first year’s teacher’s salary, but when I’d suggested renting some place, I was bombarded by my family on every side. Dad had said, “Save your money. Put what you would otherwise spend on your apartment into your teacher’s retirement account.”
Mom had said, “I’ve missed you so much. Don’t make me go driving all the way across town just to see my little girl.
And Alex, now only a few weeks short from turning nine, had said, “Zoe, come on! We could have movie nights and Mom and Dad would let me watch scary movies if you’re watching them with me. We’d have so much fun.”
And that’s how, after my first full week of teaching, I found myself lying on my bed, head at the foot of the bed watching some horror film, with Alex laying on my back, resting his chin against my head.
When the movie was over, I rolled onto my side and Alex, to avoid falling onto the floor, rolled the other way. He landed next to me, his face inches away from mine. His blonde hair was cut similar to Dad’s, parted on the right side. He wasn’t simply slender. No, the malnutrition and effects of being prematurely born still showed in his slightly sunken eyes, hollow cheeks, and skinny body.
It was a Friday night, there was time for another film. Mom and Dad would be home later. She had dragged him to some gala event that she’d been planning for the past year.
Alex’s eyes were blue, like the ice of his native Russia. He could give people a look that would turn their veins to water, but I liked them. They were different. I had plenty of reasons to like different, given how different my own life was. As I was about to get up to find the remote, Alex said, “I’m glad you’re back home now, Zoe. Mom and Dad are great, but they’ve got their own stuff and don’t have time for me, unless I get in trouble.”
I moved a lock of his corn-colored hair away from his eyes, “I’m glad I’m back, too.”
Sitting there, just a few inches from Alex, I realized just how badly I’d missed him over the previous two years. I’d deny it to anyone who asked, but that time apart made me realize part of me saw in Alex the son I’d never be able to have. I threw my arms around him and gave him a bear hug.
Most boys would squirm and throw a fit about cooties or the like. I expected the same of Alex. He caught me by surprise when he threw his arms around me and returned my hug, just as fiercely.
We were both breathing hard from squeezing each other so hard when the doorbell rang. We weren’t expecting anyone so I hurried down the hall and downstairs. I looked out the window near the door and saw a police car in the half-moon drive. I felt an icy chill run down my spine. I didn’t want to open the door, but when the doorbell rang a second time, I felt compelled.
An officer with stripes on his sleeves said, “Ms. Winthrop?”
When I nodded, he continued, “Sergeant Davis, ma’am. I’m afraid your parents have been in an accident.”
The next few weeks were a painful blur. I don’t remember much about the funeral. All I remember about the will is that Mom’s estate now belonged to me and Alex. Our parents’ lawyer assured me that I didn’t have to worry about anything. The estate could take care of the house and provide enough monthly income until I felt like returning to work, if I ever did. Also, my parents appointed me to be Alex’s guardian. I was just twenty-two.
Alex took it even worse than me. He knew he was adopted. As far as he was concerned, his birth mom had abandoned him. Although he didn’t really remember my aunt and uncle anymore, he knew they’d been murdered. And for the third time in his young life, his parents had been ripped away from him.
As bad as I hurt, I couldn’t imagine how Alex had to be feeling. I wasn’t surprised when I awoke to his screams a few nights after the funeral. Just like before, when I snuggled up with him, he settled down and went to sleep.
The next night, Alex padded into my bedroom wearing his Superman underwear and a t-shirt. I could see he’d been crying, although I hadn’t heard it even though our bedrooms share a wall. I turned the volume off on the TV. I’d only been watching the show to keep my own tears away. I asked, “You okay?”
Alex climbed onto my bed. I was sitting lengthwise, resting my head against some pillows, in a tank-top and panties. I could see his tears start flowing again as he swung one of his legs over mine and sat on my lap like a cowboy straddling a saddle.
“I’m scared, Zoe,” he blubbered through his tears. “I don’t want to be alone.”
I wrapped my arms around him. He was giving voice to my own fears. I could feel tears welling up in my eyes, too. I said, “Hey, bro, we’ve got each other. I’m never going to leave you. I promise.”
I knew if something happened to me, God forbid, that my words would be empty. But my intentions were as perfect as I could make them.
After a few minutes of us holding each other, he said, “Are you going to adopt me, like Mom and Dad did?”
I was his legal guardian now. In fact, we were each other’s only living relative. As I thought about the question, I found myself confronting some complex feelings. On one hand, for the past six years, Alex had been my little brother, even if it was by adoption. On the other hand, I was barren. I would never be able to have a child of my own. And my feelings for Alex were more complex than a normal brother-sister relationship. If I could have a child, I’d want him to be like Alex.
Still not knowing what to say, I asked, “Do you want me to?”
He scrunched his eyebrows together as he thought about it. “If it’s the only way we can stay together, then yes.”
My hands played over the fabric on the back of his shirt. “Well, I’m your guardian, so that’s one step away from being adopted.”
“It is? That’s cool.”
I was curious about the way he’d said that if adoption was the only way. I asked, “So, if you could stay with me without being adopted, would you like that more?”
Alex’s cheeks flushed red and he shrugged, “Yeah, I guess so.”
“Why?”
He shifted on my lap as his eyes seemed to dart around the room. I pressed him, “Come on, Alex. Why?”
The red spread across his forehead and down his neck before he finally leaned against my head and whispered, “I wanna marry you when I get older.”
He rocked back on my lap as his hands flew to his mouth, as though afraid of what he’d said.
I was shocked. I hadn’t expected that. After a moment, I found my voice, “That’s really sweet, Alex. But we are brother and sister.”
He shook his head, “I’m adopted, so it’s not the same thing.”
I wasn’t sure about his logic, but I felt pretty good about myself. Even if Alex’s immature proposal was an impossibility, there was one person on this planet who found me desirable. Shame he’s my adopted brother and he’s only nine.
I felt warmth radiating from my heart. I didn’t have the will to contradict him. Instead, I said, “Well, you’ve got to get older before you have to worry about that.”
He sighed and placed his head against my shoulder. “I know. I was afraid you’d get upset with me when I told you. I’m glad you didn’t.”
Alex was a good kid. It was hard for him to make me mad and even harder for me to stay mad. And, in truth, even though what he’d said had been absurd, it still made me feel better than I’d felt since our parents died.
I squeezed him. “Alex, what you said was really sweet. If we were close to the same age and you weren’t my brother, I’d have said yes.”
I nodded and kissed him on the tip of his nose.
That’s when I noticed that someone other than myself had fallen into the bad habit of not bathing regularly. I couldn’t say much, I hadn’t bathed in a week.
I lifted his arm and pretended to sniff under his arm. I pushed my face against the fabric covering his chest and sniffed. Then I pushed him back enough to get my nose down to his bellybutton and sniffed. He was giggling, his tears forgotten at the moment. I pronounced, “You, dear bro, stink.”
Alex stuck his tongue out and then did the same to me. I wanted to giggle when his nose brushed against my armpit. I was a bit surprised he was cheeky enough to push his face between my small breasts. But I almost jumped out of my skin when he lifted up my tank-top far enough to push his nose against my bellybutton.
He crinkled his nose. “So do you.”
I drew him back into a hug. “I love you, Bro.”
As I hugged him, he squeaked, “I love you, too, Zoe.”
I grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head, leaving him sitting on my lap in just his Superman briefs. “Let’s get you into the bathtub and get you cleaned up so that you don’t stink anymore.”
He giggled as my fingers returned to his ribs once his shirt fell to the floor. In between bouts of laughter, he said, “What about you?”
“I’ll get a shower after we’ve got you clean.”
His fingers found my ribs through my shirt and I couldn’t stop from giggling, too. I was every bit as ticklish as Alex. After a moment, he said, “Can I take my shower with you?”
It took me a moment to stop laughing. I’d stopped giving Alex baths when I moved away to college, but I stopped bathing with him right after he started the first grade.”
I hadn’t seen my little brother naked in two years. It had been three for him since he’d seen me naked. I had a strong inkling that six-year-old boys seeing a young woman naked have different thoughts than nine-year-olds. I started to shake my head and say no. But Alex’s blue eyes looked more like an ocean right then. He had a vulnerable and fragile look of expectation on his face, although surely, he must have realized the two of us in the shower together wasn’t going to happen.
I was dumbfounded when “Yes” came out of my mouth, instead of the “No” I had intended.
Alex used his hands to raise his hips off my lap, thrusting his hip forward just a bit. I guess it could have been seen as a sexual gesture but it was clear he just wanted me to finish what I’d started when I pulled his t-shirt off. Before I could chicken out or return to my senses, I grabbed his waistband and pulled his underwear down to his knees. His little cocklet waved around in its normally soft state. He leaned back until he could lift his feet off the mattress and I finished pulling his underwear off.
He’d grown a few inches since I’d gone off to college. Even his little boyhood looks a bit larger. Of course, that wasn’t saying much. Poor Alex was smaller than most boys his age in just about every way. His little dicklet was perhaps an inch long, maybe a little bit more. His chest was narrow and smooth.
He looked at my shirt. “Can I take it off, Zoe?”
The part of my brain that knew this was bad seemed to have fallen asleep on me. I nodded. He took the hem and pulled my tank-top off. There was a catch in Alex’s breath as my small boobs came into view.
The past two years had done nothing to make them larger. The swells were small. The areolas were still the same nickel-sized shape that puffed out a bit from the swell of my breast. And right then I almost freaked out as I realized my nipples were hard as rocks and pointing straight at Alex’s chest.
In a whisper, Alex said, “Wow.”
I shouldn’t have, but I shook my chest. “Still the same flat chested girl, Bro.”
Alex shook his head, “I think they look cool, Zoe.”
I knew we needed to get moving toward the bathroom. Best to get this harebrained scheme of Alex’s over and done with before either of us did something I’d regret.
Instead, I said, “Let me get my hips up and you can pull my panties down.”
Alex scooched off my lap faster than a dog in heat and as soon I lifted my hips, he pulled my panties down and added them to the collection on the floor. Instead of climbing down, though, he returned to his spot on my lap. I should have moved him off of me. That voice of reason was still dead as I put my hands around his back and pulled him forward until his body lay against mine. His head rested against my shoulder. His chest pressed against my hard nipples and his little dick lay flat against my abdomen.
He whispered, “I love you.”
I echoed the words back as I rubbed my hands over his bare back. Those words were barely spoken when I felt him poking my abdomen. We parted our embrace long enough for me to see his boyhood straining against his skin. Hard as a rock, his erection was just about two inches.
He giggled as he said, “Oh, geeze, I’m sorry.”
I tried not to giggle as I said, “I used to clean it when you were little. Do you remember that?”
Alex shook his head, “No. Sounds fun.”
My little adopted brother, the horn-dog. I swear, he was making me a bit wet downstairs. Part of me wanted to hold him and cuddle. But we still needed to get showered. As I got him moving toward the bathroom, I had a stray thought, we could always come back in here and cuddle some more before bedtime.
The bathroom we share has a tub and a walk-in shower. Even with me and Alex in it, the shower wasn’t too crowded as I stepped in and closed the door. Part of me rationalized that this really wasn’t any different that the two of us bathing when he was little. But Alex’s two-inch erection made the rationalization impossible to square with reality. I worried I was a bad person, fueling my little brother’s crush on me. And I felt equally powerless to stop my actions as I poured body wash on his back and then rubbed my hands around, lathering him up. I could have stopped it as my hands massaged the little globes of Alex’s ass, but I didn’t have the will power to resist.
Even as I soaped up his legs, I knew I was doing something wrong. I tried to find the voice of reason in my mind as I turned him around to face me. I knew that when I washed his front that I was going to molest Alex. My rational thoughts were gone. The part of me that could cling to good-touch and bad-touch were nowhere to be found.
After drizzling bodywash on Alex’s chest, my fingers worked it into a lather on his chest and then lower to his belly. Before my hands went lower, I grabbed onto one thought to absolve myself or to bring me back from the brink. I was kneeling in front of Alex, soap sliding down his thin body. Glancing up, I said, “Do you want me to keep going?”
I should have said it differently. I should have said, “Alex, you’re a big boy. Why don’t you finish up?” But no. I framed it so that he’d more likely agree.
And sure enough, he nodded, “Yeah.”
My fingers traced down from his belly, past his abdomen, on to his smooth tube. I slid my fingers along his shaft, feeling the loose foreskin sliding back and forth. I pulled his foreskin back behind his glans and rubbed at both head and foreskin with soap. Alex leaned against the wall, his eyes closed, enjoying my fingers on him.
Perhaps I could have stopped there, convinced my actions were necessary to good hygiene. No. My fingers returned to his small, thin shaft and I kept sliding my fingers back and forth, as I marveled at how his foreskin slid over his glans. My world zoomed in to its smallest point. Nothing existed except Alex’s cocklet and I worked that little boner as though to stop would cause the end of the world.
A noise broke my focus, even though my fingers sped along his dick. “Ah, oh, Zoe, that tingles a lot.”
“Yeah,” I said. I should have asked him if he wanted me to stop. Although to be fair, the horse had already left the stable. I added, “It’ll feel even better soon.”
Alex whimpered. I glanced up afraid I was hurting him, but he wore a look of complete ecstasy. He squeaked out, “I gotta pee!”
Alex was the only boy I’d ever touched. If he needed to pee, then who was I to stop him. As long as I could slide my fingers along his shaft.
He gasped and groaned as his knees buckled, falling against me as he said, “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my…”
I lay on the floor of the shower, Alex strewn across me. His eyes were half glazed over as he came down from his first orgasm. He had a loopy smile as he looked down at me beneath him. All he managed was another “Wow.”
I needed to feel guilty, to accept that I’d done wrong by my adopted brother. But as he looked down at me, even his eyes smiled. A thousand reasons needled at me, telling me I’d gone too far. That I would scar Alex worse if I didn’t stop. I no longer cared as I grabbed his neck and pulled it toward me. The taste of his lips against mine felt divine. It also tasted a bit like chocolate, which I guess he’d eaten earlier. My kiss was clumsy. I’d kissed one other person like this, and that had been during my brief lesbian phase. Alex’s was even clumsier. While he was enthusiastic, his lips were pressed against mine instead of puckering. We’d get better, the part of me that had accepted where this wet, torrid affair would likely take us, told me.
When we climbed to our feet, I handed Alex the bodywash bottle, “Your turn.”
I didn’t bother giving him my back. I just pushed my nipples toward him as he poured the soap over me. His hands may have been as inexperienced as his lips, but my God, the boy had enthusiasm. His fingers played with my nipples and ran circles around my tits. He could have given Daniel-san lessons in “wax on” and “wax off.”
He ran his hands down my belly and abdomen. But the lust in Alex’s eyes told me that they were simply distractions from his goal. His hands rubbed on my pubic mound as he said, “You used to have a little bit of hair here. What happened to it?”
I shaved it off once I got to Austin. Several other girls swore by it. And even though nobody gave me the time of day, my own exploration of my pussy felt a hundred percent better without hair than with the few strands that reminded me I’d never be a complete woman. After shaving, I discovered a place that provided laser hair removal. A few sessions followed up by a few more and even a year later, not one stray pussy hair had returned. I knew it was illogical. Better a handful of pubes that said, “I’m more or less a woman.” But my hands loved exploring my body so much more with no hair to mar their travels. I could have told Alex the truth, but right then as his hands touched me there, I didn’t.
“Do you like it?” I purred. “I was thinking of you when I had it removed.”
Alex’s fingers danced across my smooth pubic mound, causing me to tingle. “I like it, Zoe.”
His fingers brushed the top of my slit several times, until I gently took his index finger in one hand and spread my lips with the other. A jolt of pleasure washed over me as he touched my clit. “Oh, fuck,” I gasped.
He pressed harder as he giggled, “You cussed, Zoe.”
Our parents had always been pretty cool about life in general, but both had taught me that profanity was the province of people with limited vocabularies or small-minds. As Alex touched me, my brain was on fire. I was feeling pretty limited in my vocabulary right then.
Alex’s fingers found my inner lips. I gasped, “Go ahead. Put your finger in.”
Alex was the first boy to ever touch me there. The muscles of my walls clamped down on his finger even as he slid it all the way inside me. I drew in a sharp breath as he wiggled it around in me. He said, “Wow, Zoe, it feels all silky-like. Nice.”
I offered a “Mmmm. Move your finger in and out.”
As Alex began fingering my cunt, my own finger returned to my clit and I slid it back and forth, working myself like nobody’s business even as I enjoyed feeling my juices make Alex’s finger slicker. “Don’t stop, Alex. I’m gonna cum, too.”
Even though his little finger slipped out a couple times, he kept right on poking me with it until my clit fairly buzzed under my own ministrations. I screamed, “Oh, fuck, Alex, I’m cumming!” as my hips bucked against the tile wall of the shower.
Once the wave had washed over me and the waters of my orgasm had receded, I pulled Alex back to me and planted another kiss on his lips.
Back in bed, I draped my arm across Alex’s body as he snuggled against me. A girl could get used to feeling a boy’s butt pressing against her pubic bone, I thought, as I heard Alex’s breathing become regular as he drifted to sleep.
I was too tired to argue against the turmoil within me. Even though I knew I was playing with a dangerous fire, I was willing to buy into his little fantasy. If he needed a sister, I’d be that for him. If he needed me to be his mother, I’d do that, too. And, yes, if he needed a lover, then I’d be that, also. I closed my eyes afraid that my sleep would be troubled.
When I woke up the next morning, I blinked my eyes open and felt refreshed. After all the turmoil of the previous evening seemed to have seeped away.
Sometime during the night, Alex had shifted around and his front was pressed against mine with an arm draped over my side. His cheek lay against one of my nipples. A bit of drool had landed on the other nipple, making it glisten. He was still asleep, though. His angelic face melted my heart and even though I knew no one would understand my love for this man-child, all the objections had fallen silent in my head. A smile split my face as I realized his little erection pressed against my thigh. I didn’t want to wake Alex up yet, so I carefully shifted my hips, feeling his stiffy slide along my thigh until his little member slipped between my legs, where I felt his tip graze my pussy lips.
My arm snaked over his side, as ever so gently I pulled Alex against me. Even though I wanted to let him sleep, I also wanted to feel his little body melded to mine.
I drifted back off to sleep, enjoying the feeling of Alex’s body against mine, and when I woke, I felt something wet and warm on my nipple. Opening my eyes, I saw my adopted brother suckling on one of my nipples.
I moaned, “Mmmm, I haven’t been woken up like that before.”
He stopped and looked into my eyes with those blue glaciers of his. “Sorry, I’ll stop if you want.”
I shook my head, “No, baby. Don’t let me stop you.”
As he sucked on me, I shifted my hips and legs to try to slide his two-inch nail between my legs. I wanted to feel his little boner rub against my pussy lips. I stopped after a bit, deciding that I might have to wait another year to two to try that. Instead, I pushed Alex back against the mattress and kissed his chest, doing to his little nipples what he’d been doing to mine.
Then, I slid to his little innie of a belly button and licked it as he thrashed under my ministrations. Alex is very ticklish. From there, it was only a matter of sliding my tongue down his abdomen and pubic bone to his little rod. Alex’s cocklet twitched as my tongue touched it.
He giggled as he said, “Wow, Zoe, I like, ah, that.”
As hard as he was, his foreskin retracted, only covering part of his glans. As I slipped the first inch into my mouth, my tongue slid around on his foreskin. Alex’s breathing grew faster as I pushed my face down until my lip touched his pubic bone. I swirled my tongue around his dick. As small as he was, my tongue was as long as he was.
His breathing grew more rapid as his hips shifted beneath me. Alex’s little high-pitched voice groaned, “Ah, oh, Zoe. I got the, ahhhh. Uhhh…”
Alex screwed his eyes shut as his body shook and his penis spasmed in my mouth. I could feel it jerking about, as though trying to shoot out cum he couldn’t make. When his body stopped shaking, he opened his eyes and finished, “…cumming feeling.”
I pulled his little rod, still hard as a nail, out of my mouth and said, “How was that?”
He nodded, “Best feeling ever, Zoe. Can we do that again?”
I giggled at my little horn-dog. “Yeah. As often as you want.”
My fingers found his little dicklet and as I played with it, I said, “But first, I want to try something.”
My own needs were burning within me. My pussy was hungry and I had no idea if he could help me with it. From his place laying beside me, he said, “What’s that?”
I said, “Would you like to get a close up of my pussy?”
His head came off the pillow like a rocket, “Oh, yeah!”
Before I could give him any instructions, his legs hung off the end of the bed as his head was just a few inches away from my pussy. Curious about how a nine-year old would see it, I asked, “Whatcha think?”
“Can I touch it like last night in the shower?”
“I’d like that,” I replied.
I spread my legs wide as I felt his fingers run along my slit. It didn’t take long before he buried his index finger in me again. I liked the feel but knew I needed more. After I let him finger me, I said, “Do you want to put your dick in me?”
Alex’s eyes grew round, in the quietest of whispers, he said, “You mean… fuck you?”
Our parents’ conditioning still held the boy as he looked embarrassed to use such a dirty word. But hearing that word on my nine-year-old brother’s lips just turned me on even more. “Yeah.”
Talk about the blind leading the blind. I helped him line up his little bullet as his chest leaned over me and his legs ran alongside mine. I held his dick and as I felt it hit my hole I said, “Push, Alex.”
He pushed and I felt him slide into me. His dick didn’t feel like his finger. His dick’s circumference was thicker than his finger’s, if not by much. His little cocklet felt warmer than his finger — better, too. Aside from some prodding and poking by my OB/GYN, and that one lesbian experience, and a couple of dildos when I was away at school, Alex’s dick in my vagina was a first. And I loved it even as I knew he’d have to grow up some more before he’d fill me. Still, he hummed tunelessly to himself as he shoved his hips back and forward, sliding his little dick in and out of me.
After a couple of minutes, the tingling in my pussy remained pretty low key, so I grabbed on to him and rolled over, until he was under me and I was straddling his cock. For two clumsy people losing their virginity to each other, we got lucky and he remained inside me. And as I settled down on his cock, my body jolted was pleasure. Somehow, I’d managed to get him in a little deeper. And for me, even a half-inch would make a difference.
Now, I moved up and down on Alex’s cock. As I slid back down each time, I made sure that Alex’s dick slid along my clit. After a minute of that pure ecstasy, I realized it didn’t really matter if he filled up a couple of inches or a lot more, all I needed was for his dick to stimulate my clit with each thrust and Alex could satisfy my needs.
Another minute and I felt myself bumping up against that orgasmic wall, getting close with each downward thrust. Alex looked up at me with a silly smile and love in his eyes. I leaned forward and kissed him, pushing my tongue into his mouth, twisting my tongue along his until he was gasping with my orgasm. Alex must’ve been close, because no sooner had I shuddered on top of him than he thrashed under me as I felt his cocklet jerk around inside me, bucking and spasming. I couldn’t believe it. We were both cumming at the same time. I kept moving up and down on his twinging cock until I felt like the feelings were going to make me black out.
I fell back onto the bed, spent and drained from the most powerful orgasm I’d ever had.
That was six years ago. And even now, as Alex cuddles with me in bed, now the big spoon to my small, I have to admit, it’s been a good life. No, I never went back to teaching and Alex never went back to school. I’ve homeschooled him since then. It’s worked out well. He’ll graduate next year, a full two years ahead of schedule.
I love feeling Alex’s arms around mine. Because of the challenges from when he was born, my brother, my friend, and my lover won’t ever be the tallest man, but he’s been taller than me for a couple of years and I like that change in our relationship. I especially like how he feels like now, when my butt’s against his front. As with most mornings, I feel his dick poking between my legs. I still recall the first day he could spoon me and get his dick inside me. Now, in the mornings, it’s my favorite way to wake up, feeling him slip through my lips as he penetrates my pussy.
As a matter of fact, he’s moving now and I can feel that marvelous six inches (yes, he grew and quite nicely, too) between my legs as his hand reaches around and fondles my nipples. He’s kissing my neck as my juices ease his dick’s passage into me. He’s thrusting his hips forward and backward. He leans in to me and says, “Zoe, I still want to marry you.”
The End
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