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Couldn't Help But Overhear

I was not quite sixteen when we moved into the new house. My room was right next to my parents' bedroom. I guess the walls were too thin or something but the second night in the house a series of noises woke me up. I listened carefully and finally figured out that it was mom's voice, moaning and groaning. The thought of my parents having sex in the next room seemed weird and sort of unpleasant at first, but as I kept hearing mom moan, I noticed that my cock was getting hard. I started playing with myself a bit while listening to mom. I pressed my ear to the wall and, as I hoped, I could hear a lot more that way. I could hear dad now, grunting and talking to mom. He was talking dirty to her! Saying stuff like "Your pussy is so wet for me, Sarah!" and "You love it, you love getting fucked hard, don't you, Sarah?" It was like in the porn videos I had seen over at my friend's Tim's house when his parents were gone one weekend. It was strange to think of my parents doing it and being so into it; I guess I'd never really thought about them like that. The sounds went on for a few minutes, and I jerked myself and came hard listening to mom and dad. The next night, it happened again. I was instantly hard and came quickly listening to mom yelling for dad to "make me take it all." It was still weird, but I came really fast and hard. It squirted up on my chest and a drop hit my neck. I was wiping up with some kleenex I kept stashed in my nightstand when it dawned on me: I was going to hear them pretty much every time they had sex. I guess the idea turned me on because I got hard again pretty quickly and came again. Then I kind of felt bad. I mean, I wouldn't want mom and dad hearing me jerk off. And I certainly wouldn't them listening in when I was having sex with a girl. (I wasn't a virgin; I'd had sex twice already. Once when I was fourteen with a counselor-in-training at camp--Laura was two years older and knew what she was doing; after I came, she showed me how to make her cum with my fingers. The other time was last summer with my old girlfriend Krista just before she went away to Georgia to visit her grandparents for all of August. She knew I'd have moved by the time she got back so she finally gave in and let me fuck her once. I came too fast, I think, because she was kind of pissed at me afterwards; then she wrote me from Georgia and said she was breaking up with me. Typical, I guess, right?) Anyway, I thought how embarrassed and creeped out I would be if mom and dad had listened to me having sex with Krista, or especially with Laura, with her moaning and telling me exactly how to rub her pussy.

So I thought I should stop listening to my parents. But the next night I found out that it just wasn't possible. Even on the other side of the room I could hear faint moans. I could even hear them, barely, out in the hall, almost as far down as my sister Angie's room. (That kind of freaked me out too. What if Angie came out of her room late one night to go to the bathroom or something and heard them fucking? She's fourteen and she knows about sex and all--we kid around about it, about how far she goes with her boyfriends and everything--but it just seemed too strange for her to be hearing mom getting fucked. I was sure she couldn't hear it in her room, so maybe if she went to the bathroom during the night, she'd be too sleepy to pay attention to what the sounds were. I hoped that was right.) If I stood inside my closet AND closed the door, I couldn't hear anything, but I couldn't sleep in my closet. I couldn't get to sleep with a pillow over my head either. I thought about maybe telling them that I could hear them but that just seemed impossible. Like the worst solution imaginable: no good could come of it. So I thought maybe I could just promise myself that I wouldn't jack off while I could hear them, and I wouldn't think about them having sex when I did jack off. That was the least I could do to respect their privacy and I was determined to try to do it.

The next few days went well--because I didn't hear them having sex at all. A couple of times when I started to stroke my cock a thought flitted into my head about mom screaming "make me take it all! harder!," but I managed to think of Krista or Laura or Claire Danes or a couple of girls at my new school I was interested in. So I was doing okay on my resolution. But then that Friday when I got into bed, I could hear them again. It seemed even louder this time. I kept my hands away from my penis and tried not to think about it. It seemed like it was rougher this time too, both of them were yelling more and talking more. I couldn't hear the words distinctly but I could tell they were saying stuff to each other.

I fought it for a while. My cock was rock hard and twitching, making little jerky jumps on its own, I was so excited. I managed to keep my hands off of it, but I couldn't resist pushing my ear to the wall so I could hear what they were saying. The first thing I heard clearly was mom saying "I'm a dirty girl and I need to have my asshole filled up, sir." Whoa! I wasn't ready for that! I tore my ear away and tried to think of Laura telling me how push my fingers against her clit to make her cum, but I couldn't get what mom said out of my head. She was taking it up the ass! I couldn't believe it. I thought that anal sex pretty much only happened in porn movies, that girls wouldn't really do it. But mom wanted it, or it seemed like she did. I couldn't figure it out, but it fascinated me. My cock was going crazy now; a long tear of fluid was oozing out and my balls were starting to hurt. I put my ear back and heard dad say: "Sarah, did you clean your ass out like daddy asked you to?" Mom said, "Yes, sir, daddy." Mom was calling dad daddy! This was too weird. I was freaking out and my cock was about to spurt without me even touching it. I kept my ear against the wall.

There was a pause, and then I heard a little soft grunt from mom. I heard dad say, "Sarah, you are not clean at all, honey. Look at daddy's middle finger and tell him what you see."

Mom said, "It's gross, daddy." Dad said, "Why is it gross, sweetie? What's on daddy's finger?"

Then I heard mom say, "It's my poop daddy; I'm sorry."

Then dad said, "Make sure darling. Put my finger in your mouth and taste it." Yuck, I thought, mom and dad are into some kinky strange stuff. I wasn't sure about this kind of sex; I just didn't know people did this stuff. I couldn't keep from listening.

"It's my poop daddy. It tastes dirty."

Dad said,"Why didn't you clean out your asshole for me Sarah? Did you want me to fuck your ass while it's dirty? Or do you want daddy to clean you out?" Clean her out how, I wondered.

Mommy practically screamed, "Fuck it now, David. Daddy. Fuck my dirty ass now!"

Daddy asked mommy, "You know what that means, Sarah? After I'm done you have to clean off daddy's cock, clean all your gross poop off daddy with your mouth. Okay Sarah? Is that what you want?" This was some crazy stuff. I couldn't take much more.

Mommy agreed. Then I heard her squeal softly. Daddy was grunting hard. I realized that daddy was pushing his cock into mommy's asshole and I couldn't help it, I touched my cock, and after like two seconds, sperm was squirting out all over. It spurted for a long time. Some hit my cheek; it got all over my sheets; the next morning I found a dried streak of sperm of the lampshade beside my bed. I tried to clean it off and hoped mommy wouldn't notice it when she cleaned my room. It was hard to keep from making noise when I came; it was a good thing my parents were so deep into their own buttfucking game that they couldn't possibly have heard me thrashing around in the next room, coating everything with sperm.

I wasn't having a very good time at my new school. I had met a couple of kids I thought were cool, but nobody really wanted to hang out with me yet. There were a lot of hot girls, but I didn't know any of them well enough to approach them. So I was pretty much home most nights. Maybe that was another reason I couldn't stop thinking about mom and dad fucking. I had no sexual prospects whatsoever. Listening to mom and dad was by far the hottest thing going on in my life at the time. I was thinking about them all day at school, wondering if and hoping that they be fucking later that night. And I hoped it would be one of what I slowly came to think of as their "special" sessions, when mom pretended to be a little girl and talked really nasty to daddy, or like when dad gave mom a spanking, or when (I think, it was hard to say from just hearing it) mom put a dildo up dad's butt. The weirder it got, the more I liked it and the harder I came. I thought about trying to watch them somehow, but that just seemed way wrong and also like I would get caught pretty easily. But I couldn't stop myself from listening.

One night I woke up about 2:30 needing to pee. I could hear that mom and dad were having sex. It sounded rough. I heard something hit the floor, a struggle was going on. Mom was saying "No, please, no, I can't take it anymore, no, please, David, don't don't make me do this!" Was dad raping her? That seemed really unlikely to me, especially given all the stuff I'd heard them do over the few weeks since we'd moved into the house. It was probably one of their weird sex games, but it sounded like mommy was really crying and really begging daddy not to hurt her. But she did that when he spanked her too. I kept listening. Daddy was cursing at mommy, calling her a slut and a whore, and saying he was going to treat her like she deserved to be treated. Was this a game too? Soon I could hear mommy moaning with pleasure as she tried to pretend she was still crying. I was relieved. Dad raping mom would have been too much to take. Of course I was hard now. I jerked myself off quickly and went to the bathroom to take a piss.

Just before I started to pee, I heard a knock. I was so scared! What if mom or dad had heard me! "I'm in here," I said shakily. When I heard Angie say "O.K." I was so relieved. I pissed and flushed and opened the door.

"You didn't wash your hands," Angie said, shaking her finger at me.

"How do you know that? You must have been listening while I was in the bathroom. You're not respecting my personal space, Angela." Angie and I liked to tease each other by talking the sort of touchy- feely talk the youth group leader at camp used.

"I couldn't help listening; I have to use the bathroom too. I heard you pee, and flush, but I didn't hear the faucet come on. You should wash your hands when you go to the bathroom, Heath." She was still wagging her finger like some old-timey schoolmarm, and she was giggling.

"Angie, when you get a little older you'll learn not to pee on your fingers when you go to the bathroom."

Angie punched me in the arm. "I don't pee on my fingers, Heath. You're so awful. No wonder no girl wants to go out with you. You are so gross."

"O.K., whatever, Angie," I said, "I'm going back to bed." There was a pause when I stopped talking and for a second I could clearly hear mom letting out a long "ooohh" sound. I was sure Angie could hear it too. I thought maybe I should say something to cover the sound, but Angie said, "God, Heath, they're still doing it! They're as gross as you! They do it too much, I think."

I was stunned. I didn't say anything and in the silence I could clearly hear daddy (I assume, given the sort of rape game they seemed to be playing) slapping mommy (probably on the ass) while mommy squealed.

"Do you hear that? Isn't it disgusting? Sonia says married couples do it on average like two times a week but they do it way more than that. They're like perverts or something. It's like every night; thank God I'm not in your room. It must be like THX in there."

I didn't know what to say. I kind of mumbled, "Well, no, you know, I can't really hear much in my room, the walls are pretty thick, I guess, it's probably only the door, that lets the sound through..."

Angie cut me off. "God, Heath, do you think I'm a moron? If we can hear them all the way down here, I know you can probably hear everything that goes on in your room. These walls are like paper. You don't have to be embarrassed for me, Heath. I just think they do it way too much; it's sick, you know. And they do all the gross stuff too, like they play with each other's butts and lick each other's butts and mom putts her feet on daddy and like...you know...like plays with him that way and then he eats it of her feet or something. I'm just really repulsed to have parents that are such gross pervs!"

It was quite a speech, I thought. But Angie couldn't possibly have heard all that detail from way over here by the bathroom. "Angie, how do you know all that stuff? Are you listening to them?" I couldn't believe I was asking her this. I couldn't look at her. In the short span before she answered, I heard yet another raspy "ooof" sound coming from mom and dad's bedroom. Would they just go on all night? At least there wasn't much chance of them hearing Angie and me talking.

Angie nodded. "I have listened a few times, just to see what was going on. That's when I heard daddy begging mommy to... you know, rub him down there with her feet. And she said, 'David, clean my feet with your sissy mouth' when he was, like, you know, done. And she was calling him all kinds of names and stuff. I thought it was the weirdest thing I'd ever heard. Mom and Dad are total freaks!"

I still couldn't look at Angie. But she was looking at me. "Oh my God, Heath, you've got like the hugest boner! I am so repulsed! This whole family is a bunch of sex freaks! Heath! Would you just please take a cold shower or something and stop showing me your penis, please! Oh my God, I am so traumatized."

"I sorry Angie, I can't help it," I said, turning around so she couldn't see my cock fighting to get out of my pajama bottoms.

"Just forget about it, you gross pig," she said. "You're just gross like all the boys I know. Now let me go to the bathroom in peace."

She closed the door. I was weirded out but very turned on. I barely resisted the urge to stay and listen to Angie pee, but I was afraid she would catch me. Back in my room, I could still hear my parents going at it pretty hard. Mom was making some kind of gargling or gagging noises like she had a mouthful of something, probably dad, I guessed. Hearing them turned me on a bit more, but mostly I thought about Angie listening to them. And about her describing the stuff they did. Why did that get me so hot? Again, the semen just poured out of me for what seemed like ten minutes after I stroked my cock about twice.

The next day I kept thinking about Angie, about the stuff she'd said. She was probably right that I was some kind of pervert. I certainly thought about sex all the time, now more than ever after listening to mom and dad so much. And now Angie was even harder not to think about. I guess I'd never really paid much attention to her in a sexual way before, but now I just couldn't help it. Angie was really pretty I thought: she was fairly tall, like 5'6" or so, already as tall as mom and still growing, and she had straight black hair, dark brown--practically black--eyes and really fair skin. (Sort of like a combination of mom and dad.) Lots of freckles. Her breasts were still pretty small and she still had a little girl kind of butt--no real hips yet, but the ass itself just sort of seemed to pop right out at you. My old girlfriend Krista had been really freckled like Angie and when she got excited--like if I was finger fucking her or something--she would get all flushed. The prettiest thing I'd ever seen was Krista's freckly chest flushed red with excitement, her nipples hard like little pebbles, going up and down really fast as I worked my fingers in and out of her pussy. I thought about how freckly Angie's chest must be... I needed to try to do something to get my mind off all this stuff. Maybe, I told myself, if I could just get a girl at school interested. But even a month into school, I was still pretty new. I had talked to some girls, of course, but it seemed like a pretty big risk to ask any of them out. But I decided I needed to take the chance. I mean, I was going to go insane if all I could think about was my sister and my parents.

The one girl I liked that I thought I might have a chance with was Sandra. She was in my biology class. Sandra was really short--like 5' or maybe 5'1"--and she was a touch on the plump side. I saw her mother once picking her up at school and I could tell that in twenty years Sandra could easily be really squat and fat like her mom was now: Sandra was already a little thick through the thighs. She had a big full ass and her breasts were kind of large too. I thought she looked great and I loved watching her ass in the tight jeans she usually wore. She was Mexican-American, pretty dark skin with big deep brown eyes, straight black hair way down her back. She was very shy and almost never seemed to talk to boys at school, but through a lucky chance, Ms. Davis assigned Sandra to be my biology lab partner. So I had gotten to talk to her some, and soon we were going to start dissecting frogs, which meant I'd be with her a lot more in the next couple of weeks. So she was a real possibility. I knew she didn't have a boyfriend. And even if I couldn't get her interested, maybe just pursuing her would be enough to take my mind all the stuff happening at home.

But, as I found out the same night I settled on Sandra as the object of my affections, that was all probably wishful thinking. About an hour after I got into bed that night, mom and dad woke me up again. At first I couldn't tell what they were doing--mom was moaning and then she stopped, I couldn't hear anything, like they had left the room, then after a few minutes they would start up again. Mom was saying stuff like, "Don't tease me, David. I need to taste it. Please" and then moaning. I guess dad was eating her pussy then, but it was hard to tell, then mom would quit moaning and say again how much she needed to taste it, how dad was teasing her too much. Did she just want to taste his cum? Was that what this was all about? It seemed more elaborate than that. Finally, mom got really frustrated and practically yelled "God damn it, David, this is the fucking last time I ever piss on you first. You're like a fucking baby, David, this teasing shit is going too far. You know this is my favorite thing. Now go ahead and let me have what I want or you get nothing for a week. Pee in my mouth, David. I need to taste it. Please, honey." They were pissing on each other! Mom was begging to drink dad's piss! She said drinking his piss was her favorite thing! I couldn't hear anything but dad sighing, and then mom made a big comical gulping sound and said "mmmmmmm" really loud. Then mom said, "Kiss me to taste it, David, kiss me. Taste how warm and yummy you are." I couldn't take it. I mean each thing was freakier than the last. My mother's favorite thing was to drink my father's pee. I barely even knew anybody did stuff like this--someone at my old school had told me that gay guys gave each other golden showers, pissed on each other, but I wasn't even sure whether to believe him. But my own mom! And in her mouth! And just slurping it down like it was water or something! It was just too much. My cock spit out what seemed like a quart of sperm. It just kept coming out. I could feel each spurt as a dull throb, a pain deep in my balls; they felt like an orange getting squeezed, getting crushed and emptied. It would be amazing if Merry or Sandra--or any girl--could ever get me to come that hard. But as soon as I thought that, I wished I hadn't. Because it immediately occurred to me that there was one girl who probably could make me come that hard--or even harder, if that were possible: Angie. My sister. I had to jerk off again to get to sleep. I guiltily thought about screwing Angie to the soundtrack of mom and dad finishing up their evening with what sounded like plain old fucking. Only a drop or two squirted out of me, and my balls hurt like someone had punched me there. At last I drifted off.

When I woke up the next morning my balls were very sore. I knew that if my plan was going to work I needed to move on Sandra quickly. Luckily we had a bio lab that day; we were starting our frogs. I was hoping we wouldn't have to do much so I could talk to Sandra a lot. She was really shy and quiet, but she seemed to like me. She would usually talk to me a little about movies or bands a little bit during lab, if I started the conversation.

I didn't say much until the Ms. Davis started talking about how to tell if we had a male or female frog. There were some nervous giggles around the room. I looked straight at Sandra, and she looked embarrassed and quickly looked down. It seemed like it might be a opening for me, sort of. I said, "Why are you so embarrassed, Sandra?"

She said, "That kind of stuff always makes me feel weird."

I wanted to press her a little. "Why? It's just natural stuff, you know, everybody knows about it... everybody, you know, does it.. ."

She looked really embarrassed. Even with her dark skin I could tell she was blushing hard. "I don't," she managed to say, "I don't do it."

"I mean, eventually, you know, like when we get older and stuff, like when we're at college--"

"Only after I get married," she said firmly. "And then not because I want to but because I have to, because the Church says I am supposed to."

She was looking down at the frog; I found his penis and said "It's a boy!" and Sandra halfway turned away from me. "Stop it," she said, "it's really gross and disgusting."

"Just because it's a frog or because it's a penis?" I asked.

"Both," she whispered.

"You think a man's penis would be disgusting too?"

Sandra nodded rapidly. "I know they are."

"How you know that?"

"Because I've... well, I've seen them. They are really gross and dirty and they hurt the girl when they... you know..."

Wow, I thought. I couldn't believe how well this was going. Sandra was embarrassed but I could tell if I kept pressing her, she would keep talking. At least some part of her was getting into it, at least a little bit. "I don't think it hurts the girl unless maybe it's like her first time or if it's like really big or something." I paused. She was looking at me now. "But when have you, when have you seen a guy's penis, Sandra? I'm kind of surprised that you have." We weren't doing anything to our frog and soon enough Ms. Davis was going to figure that out. But I couldn't stop now, I had to keep pressing Sandra for more.

Sandra looked horrified, and she said in a faint whisper. "My brother ..."

I couldn't believe it. My cock was uncomfortably hard in my jeans; I kind of had to squirm to shift its position. "Your brother!" I whispered, probably too loud.

"Not what you think! Nasty! He has these magazines, you know, with men and women doing it. I've seen them. I don't like them."

I couldn't let it go. "Your brother... I mean do you know what he does with those magazines?"

She nodded but didn't say anything.

"What does he do?" I asked her. Class was almost over, and I felt like I was standing right on the edge of some new world.

"He, you know, like boys do. He rubs it and makes his sperm come out." She was sort of looking at me now. I could tell she was getting into talking about it. Her pussy was probably wet. But I had to be careful: I knew if I got too gross or graphic too quickly she'd clam up. I'd tried talking to girls like this before, lots of times. It was tricky. But I had to keep pressing her, this was too good to stop now.

"How do you know, Sandra? How do you know what boys do?"

"'Cause I watch him sometimes. And it's really bad and gross and I try to stop but I can't. I watch him and it makes me want to do stuff. I have really bad thoughts."

"Everybody does, Sandra, everybody thinks about sex, you know, you can't help it."

Ms. Davis was looking at us sternly and walking toward us. I whispered, "Shhhh" to Sandra, and started sort of fumbling with the scalpel, trying to make it look like I was doing something with the frog. Ms. Davis looked over my shoulder and said, "Well, well, well. You two certainly haven't made much progress today. Have you been talking the whole period? I hope I don't have to split you two up."

Sandra said, "I'm sorry, Miss. I just don't like this, you know. It's really gross."

Ms. Davis stiffened a little. "I'm not too concerned with how gross you think it is, Sandra. Everybody in Biology One has to do it, no exceptions. Do you understand me, young lady?"

Sandra looked down and said "Yes ma'am. I'm sorry."

"And as for you, Mr. Knox," Ms. Davis spoke to me, "I know that you don't find it too gross. You just want to spend the lab period flirting with Miss Garza, isn't that right?" I blushed and Sandra looked down. "I'm not so old that I've forgotten what it's like to be fifteen. So that you didn't do much today is no big deal, okay? But I still have a class to teach, and you're going to spent more time dissecting that frog than you are talking to each other, okay? Are we clear?"

"Yes, ma'am," Sandra and I said together. Ms. Davis squeezed my shoulder--that was strange!--and said, "Okay then. Good." She walked off. The bell was going to ring in about a minute.

"Sandra," I said, "remember, um, what we were talking about?"

"Heath!" she said. "You promised Ms. Davis that you'd stop."

I looked glumly down at the dead frog for a few seconds and then the bell rang. I watched Sandra put the frog away. I put my books over my crotch and tried to walk slowly so my cock wouldn't get pinched and so nobody would see. Sandra smiled at me when I looked at her before I left, but I didn't want to risk pissing her off by saying anything else. But the whole thing was incredible. I had thought Sandra was the shyest girl in the school and look at the stuff she was already telling me! I got a hall pass in geometry and jerked myself off super fast in one of the stalls, worried that someone would catch me. I thought about Sandra watching her brother masturbate and I wondered if Angie ever watched me, or... listened to me. I tried not to think about that but I couldn't help it. I came, cleaned myself and the toilet up (I didn't want to leave gobs of sperm all over the place), and went back to class.

Mom and dad didn't have sex that night, so I was able to tell myself that my plan was working. All I had to do was keep talking to Sandra. I couldn't help thinking about Angie a little, but I made myself go to sleep without even jerking off. I was happy about the way the plan was going and excited to have some sexual prospects at school.

The next day in Bio Sandra was all business. I asked her a couple of things about her being grossed out but she wouldn't really say too much to me. I figured it was better if I didn't try to push it. We'd have labs every day for the next week. I didn't want to screw things up. We caught up to where we were supposed to be with our frog, and Ms. Davis looked pleased with us.

That night my parents had sex. It was pretty vanilla; Mom kept saying nasty stuff like "tear my little pussy open, David" but nothing too weird seemed to be going on. With the moaning and thrashing in the background, I thought about Sandra watching her brother, about the "bad thoughts" she said she had. I wondered what they were. I managed to not really think about mom and dad or about Angie while I was coming, although the sound of mom moaning and dad grunting as he pushed into her cunt obviously helped get me hot. Still, I was proud of myself, I was respecting my parents' privacy, I was not having bad thoughts about my sister. I was just a normal horny fifteen year-old jerking off while thinking about a girl from school. (Well, sort of: I was a horny fifteen year-old jerking off while thinking about a girl from school watching her brother jerk himself off. I wasn't really sure that counted as normal, but it still seemed like an improvement to me.)

When I finished jacking myself, I cleaned up and went to piss. The door to the bathroom was closed; I guess Angie was in there. I should've gone back to my room--I knew I was in a touchy situation; I was supposed to be trying to stop thinking about Angie--but then I heard her peeing. I couldn't move. I thought about mom begging dad to piss in her mouth. I thought about Angie peeing, her little pussy spread wide open... I told myself I was fucking up my plan, which had been going so well, but I was transfixed. Then I heard Angie start to grunt a little, straining. She was taking a shit! I knew I should leave, I thought about how weird I would feel if Angie were listening to me take a dump, but I stood there, listening. She was really pushing, I could tell, she was making strained little noises--like long "ooooohhhh" sounds--and farting some. Why was I liking this so much? This just seemed crazy to me. Had listening to mom and dad warped me somehow, so that I now got hard over every sort of weird thing? Eventually I could hear a soft plop as Angie's turds dropped into the water. This is really bad, what I'm doing, I told myself, but I couldn't stop. I was rubbing my cock through my pajama bottoms as I heard Angie tear off the toilet paper and wipe herself. When she flushed, I ran back down the hall to my room and got into bed. Had she heard me? It sounded like mom was getting close to her orgasm and my cock was very hard. I was desperate. I waited a few seconds to make sure Angie hadn't heard me and then I started really jacking myself hard. I was really rough on my cock, spitting on my hand and rubbing up and down right over the head like I used to do when I was like twelve, before I learned that you could really chafe yourself pretty bad that way. I came pretty quickly and there wasn't much sperm. I rolled out of bed to go to the bathroom--I still hadn't gone--and I heard footsteps going down the hall. When I opened my door and looked, I could see the door to Angie's room closing.

I went down the hall and lightly tapped on Angie's door before opening it. She was sitting on her bed in her nightgown.

"Heath, what are you doing in here? You scared me to death," she said.

"Why were you just down by my room Angie? Tell me the truth."

She said, "Why were you just listening to me when I was in the bathroom, Heath? I know you were. Do you want me to tell mom?"

"I wasn't listening..."

"Shut up, Heath, I know you were, you sicko. You're worse than mom and dad! Listening to me go to the bathroom! That is so nasty! It's so gross and disgusting! How would you like it if I listened to you, Heath? Huh?"

Angie seemed mad but not too mad, I guess. I tried to turn it into a joke. "I wouldn't mind, Angie, I think it'd be kind of cool..."

She made a disgusted face. "Kind of cool if your sister listened to you take a crap, Heath? God! That has got to be the absolute grossest thing I've ever heard! You are worse that mom and dad. Way worse."

I changed my tack a little. "But Angie," I said, "you still haven't told me what you were doing down by my room? What were you doing? Something nasty too, I know, you don't have any business being down at my end of the hall at his time of night. So what were you doing down there, huh, Angie? Tell me."

"Okay, okay, Heath, I'll tell you, 'cause I know you do it too. I was listening to mom and dad, okay? Listening to them like you do, okay? Are you happy now?"

"I thought you said it was gross, Angie, what they do."

A pained expression plaid across Angie's face. "It is, Heath, it is gross, and I hate it. I hate it! But sometimes, you know, when I hear them, I just can't, you know, I want to..." Her voice trailed off.

"Want to what, Angie?" I asked her hoarsely. "Want to listen to them?"

She nodded and then she said, "But not just that, you know, I want to ..." She paused. "Play with myself, all right? When I listen to them I want to play with myself! Are you happy now?" She leaned back on her bed and started to cry. "God, I can't believe I told you.. ."

I went over and sat next to her on the bed. I could see her small breasts jiggling firmly under her nightgown as she sobbed. It looked to me like her nipples might be hard, but I wasn't sure. I put my hand on her shoulder--

"Don't touch me you gross perverted pig!" she barked in a loud whisper. "Keep your hands away from me please!"

"Angie, come on, it's okay," I said, but she was still crying. "Just leave me alone, please, Heath. Please. Can you just do that please?"

I stood up but was reluctant to leave. I watched her chest rise and fall under her nightgown as she cried. After a minute or so, I left the room. When I got back into bed, mom and dad's bedroom was quiet. I was confused. I felt like I had really hurt Angie somehow, and that was the last thing I wanted to do. I had to stop this, I had to stop. I was begging, I was praying that I could stop thinking about Angie. Just think about Sandra, just think about Sandra, I kept telling myself, but I wasn't sure that I could do it. I was sure that I needed to get something going with Sandra quickly or I'd drive myself nuts and probably screw up my little sister in the process. I felt awful: my stomach was in knots, I couldn't sleep, I couldn't think straight. And on top of everything my cock was still totally hard. I couldn't believe it.

Maybe I managed to get a couple hours sleep that night, but the next morning I looked terrible. Mom asked me if I was sick and I told her I was fine. I didn't want to say I hadn't slept well, in case she might start to suspect that I could hear just about everything she and dad did from my room. Angie sort of glared at me when she came down, but she didn't say anything.

I couldn't wait for Biology. I was desperate, all my plans to be coy and slow so as not to screw up my chances with Sandra were out the window. If I didn't get a girlfriend right away I just knew I was going to end up doing something horrible... making Angie do something... but I didn't want to think about it. I needed to think about Sandra. And Sandra did look good, sitting next to me. Her blouse was open maybe a button too many and I could see the tops of her breasts pushing up out of a bra she'd basically outgrown. As she got out the frog, I kept watching her dark brown breasts go up and down as she breathed. I guess I was a little obvious or looked a little too long because she caught on and slapped me hard across the thigh.

"Heath!" she said in a firm whisper. "You are the dirtiest boy I know! I used to think you were nice, but now I know better, you are just nasty like every other boy." She buttoned up her blouse indignantly.

I had to risk it. "I'm not any nastier than... than your brother, Sandra. And you like him--"

She slapped me across the thigh again. "I shouldn't have told you about that, I knew I shouldn't..."

"So why did you tell me?"

She wouldn't look at me. "I don't know," she said, "I just couldn't help it, you know, I just wanted to tell somebody, you seemed so nice--but I was wrong about that. You aren't nice. Let's just do the stuff on the frog and stop talking about this, okay, Heath?"

"Why aren't I nice? Just because I liked talking about sex with you? Is that why?"

Sandra nodded. I said, "But you liked talking to me about it, too, Sandra. I could tell. You liked it. And I would never tell anybody; I can keep a secret." I took a chance: I put my hand under her chin and lifted her face so that she was looking at me. Her eyes were filling with tears, but she let me touch her chin. She was looking straight at me now. "I know you like talking to me about it, don't you?"

She whispered, "Yes." I could tell her voice was about to crack. "I have to tell someone, I just feel so bad..."

"You know, Sandra, brothers and sisters, I mean it's wrong I know, but they see each other, like around the house, like I've walked in on my sister in the bathroom and I was embarrassed but I kind of felt good too you know seeing her that way..."

Sandra looked interested. "But didn't it, didn't it make you feel ashamed? Didn't it make you feel really awful?"

"Sort of, I guess," I said, "but kind of good too, you know, I mean the bad feeling was all mixed together with a really good horny feeling, you know... I mean, I didn't want to, but I liked it." She was staring at me, nodding slightly, as if she couldn't believe what she was agreeing with. I said, "So you've seen your brother jerk off, Sandra. That's not the worst thing in the world."

Sandra shook her head vigorously. "It's not just that," she said. "I mean, I mean, I think about him that way sometimes, you know, my brother. And then I think how I'll be in hell because I'm such a slut and can't think about anything except sex." She paused for a second. "I can't believe I'm telling you this."

I couldn't resist. "Does he ever, I mean have you ever, with him, you know?"

"No!! I haven't!! Why did you have to ask me that! I told him I wouldn't, that it was wrong!"

"But he asked you..."

"Yes, okay, Heath, yes, he asked me and I said no! Boys can't help their sex drives, mommy says, so I didn't tell on him, but I said no! But he kept asking me, and showing me, and I felt so funny watching him..." "That you... "

"I didn't do it with him! I didn't! I said no! I just wanted to.. . to feel it... to know what it felt like... it looked so funny to me. He put my hand on it and made me make him, you know, squirt the sperm out. He held on to me and touched me down there and he said he could tell I was wet and I wanted to do it with him. He was right! But I hated myself, and I felt bad and scared and I got away from him. And all I think about is how I'm such a slut and how I think about the worst things and can't make myself stop..." She was visibly crying now.

I couldn't believe it. I pick the shyest looking girl, I mean I thought she might even be afraid of boys, sort of, and she's telling me about jerking her brother off! My cock was so hard in my pants that was sure Sandra could see it. Again the thought hit me: how was this going to help me stop thinking about fucking my sister, anyway?

"Please stop talking about this. I don't want you to know any more. I shouldn't have told you what I did. I've never told a boy about it. I've never told anyone. Please don't tell anybody else, please, Heath, promise me, please promise me?"

I promised her. I looked around the room and I could see that Ms. Davis was staring right at me. I hoped she couldn't see that Sandra was crying. The bell rang. As Sandra was putting up our frog, Ms. Davis came over to us. She said, "I think I am going to need to split you two up--"

"No!" I blurted out, not thinking.

"Yes!" Ms. Davis hissed right back at me. "On Monday, Heath, your new partner is Eric, and Sandra--are you okay, honey?" Sandra nodded. Ms. Davis continued, "On Monday, Sandra, your partner will be Kelly, okay?" Sandra said, "Yes." Ms. Davis put her hand on my shoulder and said, "I want to speak with you for a second after class, Heath."

After the class filtered out of the room, Ms. Davis said, "Didn't we talk about this the other day, Heath? I thought we understood each other." "We did. I wasn't doing anything--"

"Heath, that poor little girl was in tears!"

"But I didn't--"

"Be quiet, Heath. I know you didn't mean to upset her. I know you were probably just flirting with her in what you thought was a harmless way. But she was upset. Sandra is very shy, Heath, she's not used to the sort of full-court press you were throwing at her." Ms. Davis smiled at me.

I said, "I wasn't really--"

"Heath, I don't want to hear it. I've separated you two now and that should be enough, but if I ever see you bothering Sandra again, I'm going to have to do something more serious. Do you understand?"

"Yes, ma'am," I said.

"Good. I like you, Heath, and I don't like to see you in trouble. So just straighten up, okay?"

I nodded. Ms. Davis turned and walked back to her desk and I left the classroom.

I felt terrible the rest of the day. I had really screwed things up now. My plan was in ruins and I didn't know what I was going to do. I was never going to be able to get a girlfriend. How was I going to stop thinking about Angie now?

That night I lay awake, sort of hoping my parents would do something. Soon enough I could tell they were going to. I could hear mom moaning; I guess maybe dad was eating her or finger fucking her or something. I kind of resignedly took my cock in hand and started stroking it. I thought about Angie, about her rubbing on my cock like Sandra stroked her brother's. How good it would feel, Angie's little hands squeezing my balls, working up and down my cock... I went slowly, savoring the sounds coming from the next room--I think dad was forcing his penis into mom's asshole, given the way they were both straining and squealing--and thinking how much I wanted Angie, wanted to do those things with her, wanted to fuck her, wanted to fuck her in the ass, wanted to have her piss all over me, all the nasty things mom and dad did, I wanted to do with Angie.

I starting to get kind of close when I thought I heard a sound in the hall. Was it possible? I pulled up my pajama bottoms and slowly got up, trying not to make any noise, and went over to the door. I opened it a crack and Angie froze. She knew I had caught her. I motioned for her to go down the hall to her room, thinking maybe we could talk, and sort of see what happened, but she shook her head and pointed to my room. I guess she wanted to hear what I heard, hear how clear our parents' sex sounds were in my room. We sat down on my bed. They were still going strong: I--we!--could hear the grunting and little high pitched whimpers from mom.

"God, I can't believe it!" Angie whispered. "You can hear everything!"

I pressed my ear to the wall and motioned for Angie to do the same. I could hear mom saying, in a strained, out of breath voice, "In my mouth, David, in my mouth! Don't come in my ass!"

Angie whispered, "They are so dirty! I can't believe it! And you hear it all every time!"

I nodded. It was too dark to see too much, but I could see Angie's long pale thin legs sticking out from under her short nightgown. Then I noticed that my hard on was poking out the open fly of my pajamas. I tried to discreetly cover it up, but Angie was pointing at it. "It gets you hot, huh, Heath? Me too. I hate it, but it does." She paused; we both looked at my erect cock standing straight up. I didn't know what to do; I was hovering on the edge of something I didn't understand. I was afraid. Angie said, "Feel me, Heath," and took my hand and pushed it under her nightgown up against her pussy. The whole world seemed to shift violently to one side; everything seemed to change in that instant. My sister pushed my trembling hand firmly against her cunt. She was soaked. I'd never felt a girl so wet. She cupped my hand over her furry little mound and I felt the intense heat her pussy was giving off. With all the fluid it almost felt like she was boiling inside. She kept my hand pressed tight to her and I pushed a finger up into her. It was like Angie's cunt was churning around me, gripping and pushing and sucking my finger deep inside. She kind of rocked up and down on my hand, trying to get a rhythm. She still had her ear pressed against the wall (so did I)and could hear dad saying "Suck my filthy cock, Sarah, every fucking inch you little whore!" while she pushed her marshy little muff against my hand. Angie's cunt started to spasm after a minute and I could tell she was coming. I could tell she was biting her lower lip to keep from making a sound as she bucked against my hand as hard as she could. I wasn't touching my cock but when my sister's orgasm started, it happened anyway: sperm shot out of me violently onto the bed and onto Angie's legs as she came. She was still shaking and rocking against my hand when my cock stopped spitting cum. When she finished, she pulled my finger out of her and quickly got up.

"Angie--" I whispered, but she quietly left the room. I lay back in exhaustion. Through the wall I could hear dad practically bellowing as he came hard down mom's throat. I was utterly confused.

By the time I woke up late the next morning--a Saturday--Angie was already off to the mall with some of her friends. I was sort of happy about that; I wasn't sure what I would say to her. Was this going to be an ongoing thing between us? Was she upset with me? How did she feel? How did I feel? I didn't know what I wanted or what I should think about it myself. It was too much. I couldn't handle it.

I watched college football games on TV all afternoon, just slacking off completely. I wasn't up to doing anything. About three mom reminded me that she and dad had their bridge group tonight and would Angie and I be okay by ourselves. I said of course, but I was terrified. What would I say to Angie? Would we do anything else? How would I ask her or would I... would I make her? No. That much I wouldn't do. But what did she think about it? After all, she had pushed my hand against her wet pussy. She had wanted it. Hadn't she? Hadn't she come hard against my hand? She must've liked it, how could she not? I tormented myself like this the rest of the afternoon.

Angie came back at six, just before mom and dad left. She kind of glanced at me on the couch when she came in, but then looked away and ran upstairs when I looked back. That did not help my confusion at all. Dad gave us some money to order a pizza and told us not to have anyone over while they were gone. Angie called out "Bye" to mom and dad from her room.

As soon as the car pulled out of the driveway I ran upstairs. Angie was sitting facing her mirror in her room. "Come on in, Heath," she said. I sat down on her bed.

She said, "I'm really freaked out about what happened last night." She waited for me to respond but I said nothing. "I mean, it was really gross and we shouldn't do it any more. It's really wrong and disgusting. I've been thinking about it all day."

"Me too," I said.

"I'll be you have, you're such a gross, typical, repulsive boy, God! I'm sorry, Heath. It's so sick, we're so sick! I did it too! I liked it too! I'm sorry. But we have to stop Heath, okay? We have stop."

"But Angie," I said, "I liked it too. I liked it a lot and I know you did. Can't we just--"

"No! No! We aren't going to do it any more, Heath! It's disgusting and I felt so awful all day today thinking about it. We aren't ever going to do it again."

"But Angie--"

"No! Now just leave me alone for a minute, okay?"

I said, "Okay Angie," and left her room. I went back downstairs and watched the football scores. In about half an hour Angie came down. She was sort of fighting to pretend like she wasn't upset, like there was nothing weird going on.

"What's on tonight?" she asked me.

"Don't know," I said, "nothing special I guess."

She plopped down in the chair across from me and studied the TV Guide. Her legs were splaid out over the arms of the chair and my eyes were glued to her jean-covered crotch. In a second she caught me looking. "God, Heath," she said, snapping her legs together, "is that how it's going to be around here now, you staring at me all the time?"

"I'm sorry Angie, I just can't help it, you know, you're so pretty and I keep thinking about last night--"

"Stop it, Heath, okay? We aren't going to go there, okay? Got it?" She looked back at the TV Guide for a few seconds and said, "You're right Heath. Nothing. That stupid movie with Meryl Streep--"

"Maybe the dingo ate your baby," I said in a fake Australian accent.

Angie laughed. She seemed to relax a little. We ordered pizza and kind of channel surfed for a while. The pizza came; we ate some; she was definitely feeling better. After we ate there was still really nothing too good on, so we kept just clicking around. Eventually she relaxed enough to start wrestling with me for the remote a little bit. It was how we usually were together and I thought how nice it was, how good it was just to be plain old brother and sister. So I tried to stop myself, I mean, I thought about it, anyway, about not doing anything. Even as she was wrestling around with me I could tell it was on her mind too, that she was wondering, can we do this, can we just forget what happened and go back to how we were before? But when she rolled on top of me, I kind of--just for a second--I kind of held her there, kind of pressed her against me. I was hard and I figured she could feel it through my shorts. It was really just for a second or two, but Angie quickly got off of me.

"Is that all you think about, Heath? Can't we just play around without it getting so gross all the time? God, look at you." My erection was sticking up hard in my shorts. "Heath, we just can't do this." She turned and ran upstairs. I waited a minute or two and the went up after her. She was in the bathroom. I pressed my ear to the door and lightly rubbed myself. I wasn't hearing anything.

"God, Heath, you moron, I know you're out there."

I didn't say anything. "Heath, I know you're there."

"No, I'm not," I said. I heard her giggle a little.

"Go ahead and open the door, I'm decent," she said.

I swung the door open. Angie was sitting on the side of the tub, wearing just her bra and panties.

"Angie!" I said, surprised. I couldn't help looking at the scattering of pale freckled across her chest between the cups of her bra.

"Oh now you're shocked," she said. "Ever time I see you got that huge boner sticking up at me and you can't handle it if I'm in my underwear?"

"No Angie, I just, I'm just surprised, that's all, I mean--"

She stood up. "We have to figure out what we're going to do, Heath. You're right, I kind of liked it too. But unlike you, I also think it's sick and that we should stop. I just want us to be brother and sister, like normal, okay? But I guess it's too late for that--"

"Look Angie, I'm really sorry, I just couldn't help myself downstairs, but I'll try to better--"

"But you won't do better and you know it, Heath. And I don't know what I want either. I mean, I had fun too, even if it was so gross. But I don't want things to get all weird all the time, okay?"

"What are you saying, Angie?"

"I don't know, Heath, I sort of want to do more, you know, but sort of not. I can't decide--"

"I can't either, I mean--"

Angie put her hands on her thin little hips. I could see the dark patch of pussy fur through her panties.

"Look, Heath, if we did this just once in a while--"

"Yes, please, Angie," I interrupted.

"But the rest of the time, things would just be normal, okay, just regular? Can you promise me?"

I promised her. To my surprise she slid down her panties and sat down on the toilet. "You promised, remember?" I had moved over in front of her and was staring down at her pussy. Her legs were spread wide and she scooted forward on the toilet seat. I could see how wet she already was.

"Okay, Heath, now after tonight back to normal for a while, right?" I nodded. She pulled her lips apart with her hands and I knelt in front of the toilet. I could smell how hot she was, a sweet, thick, swampy smell coming off her cunt. I raised my hand to touch it but she caught my wrist.

"Not yet," she said, "just look." I looked. She pressed one tiny finger up inside and started to play with herself a little. "Let me see yours," she said. I quickly stood and pulled off my shorts and underwear, then my shirt. "God, it's always like that, isn't it?"

"You make it that way Angie," I managed to whisper. Her hand reached out and gently touched my cock. She wrapped her little fist around me.

"I've seen dicks before, you know," she said, trying to be nonchalant. "I'm not even a virgin." She looked at me. "Surprised, huh? Remember that guy Mike at camp? Yeah well..." She smiled. He was actually really gross, but sneaking around with him was kind of fun."

"I did it with Laura at camp," I said. "And with Krista, once."

"Krista was a bitch," Angie said and laughed. I laughed too.

Angie pumped my cock a couple of times and then paused. She was thinking. She asked me, "Heath, what's the dirtiest thing you've heard dad and mom do?"

I was sort of taken aback. "I don't know, Angie, I mean, I've heard a lot of stuff--"

"I've decided I don't think their little games--like when she's a little girl or when he pretends to rape her or whatever--I don't think they're the dirtiest. I did at first, but--"

"Do you know what mom's favorite thing is, Angie?"

"Yeah," she said, nodding. I was silent for a second. "Get in the bathtub Heath," Angie said.

I knew what was coming. I lay down in the bathtub as Angie told me. It was cold against my skin. She stood and hesitated for a second. She unhooked her bra and dropped it and then stepped into the tub. She put one leg up on the side and squatted a bit. I could see the dark outer folds of her cunt spreading open above my face. She was very wet. I could see the goo oozing out of her. She squatted a little lower and it started. An uneven little jet of urine sprayed out of her and hit the side of my face. It felt warm. I raised my hand to touch it when a fuller stream started to flow. It hit the tub at first, making a loud sound near my ear. Then Angie aimed it a bit, squirting her pee right at my mouth. I opened up and tasted it. Angie's piss was salty, of course, but it also tasted kind of thick and bitter. I was drinking my sister's piss! She squatted right to my face and pressed her pissing pussy flush against my mouth. I was licking her and sucking, it was crazy, I was drinking up Angie's pee! When she finished I kept licking her salty little pissy cunt--she was so wet! And delicious! I grabbed her ass and tried to push my tongue even more deeply inside her. She was grinding her drenched pussy against me, rubbing herself hard against my face. She felt like a little oven around my tongue.

All of a sudden she stood. "Inside me, inside me," she whispered rapidly, before impaling herself on my cock. She took me all the way in in one motion and before I knew what was happening I could feel the sperm rising up. I wasn't going to be able to stop it. Angie ground her pussy roughly against me, making those little squeals I'd heard mom make so many times when dad was fucking her hard. "Mmnah, mrrr, mnnn," something like that. My cock was squirting cum deep inside my sister's little cunt and she was writhing around sort of like a dying fish and coming herself.

She rested on top of me for a minute or so and then stood. A blob of my semen dripped out of her cunt and hit me in the stomach. Angie giggled. I was looking up at my sister and rubbing my still-erect cock. She turned on the shower and said, "Remember, Heath, back to normal for a while, you gross pig!"

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