The sister of my friend part 1

I had seen Helen at one of my friend’s birthday party one year, running around and flirting with all of her brothers male friends. She had not shed all of her puppy fat yet, and was wearing a tight dress that was probably a size or two too small. I didn’t mind the view too much, but restrained myself somewhat since my wife was with me and I realize that Helen was still not of legal age. At the end of the party Helen gave me a warm and sweet hug that sent signals to all the wrong places. Almost a whole year after the birthday party I got a visitor at work that made me forget everything else (including my important work) for a while. I heard a careful knock on the door and, when I opened it, Helen was standing outside the door. She was wearing a pair of tight jeans and a top that showed off her wonderful breasts. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that she was using a push-up bra, that’s for sure.

She sat down and we had a long conversation about nothing in particular, in fact I still cannot quite recall all the subjects that we talked about that day. I’m very sure about at least one thing, though: I babbled. I probably made a complete of myself, trying to find yet another subject that might be interesting enough for her to stay around for just a little while longer. After a few hours our talk finally ended when my wife called, wanting to know when I would come home that evening. I felt my voice almost cracking up when I told her “I’ll be home in a few minutes, dear. I’m just waiting for a printer to finish.” Helen laughed, winked and said, “I like a man with humor”. She gave me a big hug that I didn’t want to end too quickly, and apparent she didn’t either. We parted after swapping telephone numbers and email addresses.

I looked at my desk and realized I had a LOT of work to do the next day. We certainly did keep in touch through e-mails, a few per day at least. Over the next few months we really found a deep friendship evolve, and my respect for her grew each day. We talked about anything that might pop up, including different kinds of relationships, her studies and my work. Helen came by my work on a Thursday afternoon. She was having a bad day, and needed someone to talk to. A big test in a subject she detested was coming up at school, and one of the guys in her class that she wanted to have as friend had fallen for her. I listened to her, trying to help her as much as I could.

“Could you do me a big favor?” She asked.

“Sure”, I said helpfully, “what can I do for you?”

“My back is so tense, could you do something about it? Please…”

This was exactly the thing I was afraid of. I love giving massages and back rubs, but it’s so easy to let the mind wander and think about what I really would like to do to the person I’m massaging. I knew I couldn’t say no to her, so I took her to a resting room and locked the door behind us. She laid herself face down on top of the bed in the resting room. I started to gently coax the stiffness out of her back, massaging trough the fabric of her top.

Sorry, what did you say? My mind was just wandering.” I said.

“Yeah, sure,” She said. “Probably thinking about how much you wanted to caress my behind, didn’t you?”

My mind was racing – was I really that easy to read? I knew I had gone too far in my daydreaming; I should have listened to her instead. She looked at me over her shoulder with a smile and said “Gotcha!”

I looked straight into her eyes and said, “Yes, but you are too young and I’m a happily married man.”

Her smile grew bigger and she started to giggle. She looked down onto the bedspread rather than at me and said, “i’ve been of legal age for over two weeks now…”

“And I’m still much too old for a beautiful young girl like you” was all the repartee I managed to put together. Pitiful, wasn’t it?

I resumed the massaging, painfully aware of both her behind and my cock hardening between my legs. I tried to find tensed muscles further up in her back but to no avail, it was only her lower back that needed the attention. I realized that I was unable to get her muscles completely relaxed and told her so, to which she answered “Do keep on massaging, it feels so good.” Just when I realized I couldn’t take any more and was about to call it quits she suddenly tensed up quite badly.

I asked, “What is it?”

She replied, “You were about to stop, weren’t you?”

“Yes,” I answered honestly.

“Just five minutes more, and a little further down” she begged me.

I knew no good could come of this, but I was unable to say no to this teen temptress. My fingertips were probing for a sore spot at the top of the pelvis, but none was there to be found. Trying to keep my cool I started to move up again when she told me to continue downwards. I realised I had no control over my hands as they started to caress her behind. I wanted to touch her everywhere simultaneously. I heard a soft moan come from her slightly parted lips and her body was barely noticeably moving from side to side. That’s when it happened: My mobile phone rang! Trying to reach it as quickly as possible I slipped on the bedspread and fell but still got up in time to answer the call from my wife before she hung up on me. She asked me why I wasn’t home already and I had to tell her I had been a little preoccupied (no kidding?) Here in the lab (hmm…) and had lost all sense of time (true). I told my wife that I would go home in a few minutes and hung up.

I looked at Helen. She was lying there, looking not quite as innocent as the first time I had seen her. I helped her to her feet and we both tidied up somewhat before going to our respective homes. As I got home from work that day I was feeling very guilty and, probably because of that, pampered my wife the entire evening. When we finally got to bed I was full of energy and used some of it to make sure that she had a wonderful memory of that day. On the following morning my wife did ask me about a bruise on my right hip and I told her (at least some of) the truth; that I tripped when I was going to answer the mobile phone.

My wife was out of town a few days about one week after the last “incident” had happened, I took a slight detour on my way home to rent a few smut videos for later that weekend. When I got home I took care of all the chores that had to be done, including feeding myself, before planting myself I front of the TV. I was just browsing among the available channels when the doorbell rang and I got up to open the door. Outside, in a short skirt and a summery blouse, was Helen. She knew my wife was out of town and wanted to spend some time with me. We had a nice cup of tea, chatted leisurely and watched TV for a while until she noticed the plastic bag containing the rented videos. I just wanted to disappear from the face of the Earth!

She asked, “What’s that?”

“Just a few videos that I’m planning to watch later this weekend,” I told her truthfully. “Probably not something that you would be interested in.”

“May I look at them?”

I was seriously contemplating the idea of saying no, but apparently she mistook my lack of immediate answer as a positive. She opened up the bag and looked astounded at the videos it contained, then with utter disbelief directly at me.

“Do you really like porn? This looks like hardcore porn.”

“Yes, I do and it is,” I told her.

After we had spoken about it for quite some time I asked her “Have you ever watched porn?”

“No, I haven’t. I have read quite a lot of porn, but all such films appear to be too detailed. I want to use my imagination, not be spoon fed what every man wants,” she said.

“Do you really believe that all films are made in the same style?”

“No, but they are made by men and for men,” she answered.

“There are many different types of porn available,” I told her, “going from the abstract to the very direct with extreme close-ups. The abstract type, preferred by some women, containing long scenes with few close-ups and more kissing, touching and hinting, rather then showing, what is happening… The ‘hydraulic’ type, with a lot of pumping going on and nothing else besides that. The gynaecological type, with a lot of close-ups.”

I already knew the question she would ask me, so I wasn’t too surprised when she asked “And what style do you prefer?”

“I must admit to liking close-ups,” I said, blushing slightly. “I find the first type to my liking every once in a while, but they can be quite boring. The second type is boring after ten seconds.”

“Yes, I prefer quite young women. In fact,” I added, “if they have blond or red hair I like it even more.”

“That explains these”, she said while holding up two of the videos with young women in their late teens on the cover. It took a few moments before the implications sank in for her, then she peered at me quizzically. Her question came hesitantly, “Does that mean that you like to look at me?”

“Yes, I like to look at you.” Phew, that wasn’t too hard to admit.

“Have you ever”, she stopped in mid sentence, trying to find the right words. “Have you ever fantasised about me?”

“Yes, i’ve had quite a few fantasies about you” I stated, matter-of-factly. My thoughts and feelings was at that time in turmoil, and I felt almost claustrophobic. Would she like me anyway?

“Do you touch yourself while thinking of me?”

My throat felt strangely dry. I nodded and noticed that she was breathing more heavily then she usually did.

“Can’t we look at this video instead of the game show?” She handed me the softest video I had rented. I shrugged, walked over to the VCR, put it in and sat down again.

The video started with some ads that I quickly skipped through. The only reason for me renting this video had been that one of my favorite actresses was supposed to have a supporting role and I wanted to see her. The story was quite boring, and I was starting to think that the ‘Erotic’ part was just a PR stunt. I still didn’t mind terribly anyway, since Helen had slid up into my arms. Half an hour into the film things started to change drastically. The lead characters of the movie started to tell each other about their favorite sexual fantasies, and they were shown in great detail. I reacted to the scenes by going really hard and there was no way that Helen could fail to notice it. She smiled at me and asked, “Do you like having a hard-on?”

I nodded, swallowed hard and said, “Would you like to touch it?” For a brief moment I thought that I had gone too far, then I saw her nodding while looking at the bulge at the front of my trousers. I stood up, undid my belt and zipper, and carefully pulled my trousers down and stepped out of them. My boxer shorts had a very visible tent, to which her stare was transfixed. In one swift motion I removed my boxers completely. Her gaze didn’t leave my manhood for even a fraction of a second when I sat down next to her again. I let my right arm slip around her, letting my hand touch her breast. Her hand moved slowly towards my sex, which trembled at her careful touch. She took hold of it at the bottom of the shaft.

“It’s so thick and full of veins”, she said.

I just had to ask her, “May I take your clothes off?”

She hesitated for a moment, then nodded and stood up. I unbuttoned her blouse slowly, wanting to savour the moment. It fell to the floor in a crumbled heap, and I caressed her pert breasts through her bra. A soft, barely audible, moan escaped her lips. Her skirt was a little bit more troublesome, since it had a very tight fit on her hips. After a few failed attempts to get it off her she removed it herself, smiling shyly as she did so. Then moved her back into the sofa where I opened her bra and started to kiss her full breasts. She was breathing heavier than before and, when I started to remove her panties, she lifted her bum from the sofa to help, then pulled me up and kissed me squarely on the mouth.

“Would you be so kind as to kiss me down there, please”, she pleaded.

I went down on her, letting my tongue explore every little crevasse and wrinkle that could be found down there. Her hands were giving her neck, hair and breasts some badly needed attention. I let first one finger, then another, slide into her. She gasped and started to move about. The tip of her clitoris was clearly visible and my tongue gave it some undivided attention while my fingers were moving in and out of her. I felt a hand that pulled my head towards her pussy and I increased the frequency until her hips bucked and she let go. The neighbors were probably considering calling the police at that time, since her orgasm was VERY loud. I looked her straight into the eyes and with a broken voice she said “Thank you! It there anything you’d like me to do to you?”

“I know it’s a lot to ask for,” I answered, “but would you consider letting me slide into you?”

Her answer came immediately, “I thought you’d never ask!”

She positioned herself on the sofa so that I could enter her in the missionary position while I was donning a condom. We kissed while she carefully guided my cock into her, and in her expressive eyes I noticed every little pain she felt while I did so. I let it stay put for a while until she had familiarized herself with the feeling of something filling her up. When I finally started my slow thrusts I heard her moaning start again, but this time into my mouth that was still attached to her beautiful lips in a kiss. It didn’t take long for me to notice that this wasn’t a position that she felt comfortable in and I asked her if there was something she wanted to try instead. She looked at the TV where the last scene of the movie was still on and said, “I want you to take me like that, from behind.”

She put herself on all four and I positioned myself behind her and slid gently into her. One of my hands was caressing her breast and the other her clit, and she was panting heavily. I took hold of her hip with both my hands and started to fuck her as hard as I could. She put a pillow beneath herself and went down on her elbows, then let one of her hands slip down to rub her clit. On the TV screen I saw the actor massaging the actress’ rectum with his thumb, and I did the same to Helen. She came immediately, and her cramping vagina drew me over the edge as well.

“That was even better then I imagined,” she said.

“I agree!” Was all I could say as we lay there hugging and kissing.

After a while she looked at a clock that showed 2:08 AM and screamed, “I was supposed to be home by midnight, we have visitors coming tomorrow!”

“i’ll drive you home, if you want to.”

“Yes, please,” she said with a tired but content smile.

She fell asleep while I was driving her and her bicycle to within a block of her home so that she could ride the last part by herself. We hugged, kissed and parted for the night. My drive home was quite strange. On one hand I was filled with remorse from cheating on my wife, on the other I was filled with glee by the fantastic experience. My mind was in turmoil, and I was probably not a good driver because of that and the late hour. I must have been extremely lucky for not being stopped by the police; I surely broke a few traffic laws by the time I got home. In fact, I almost fouled up when parking the car. I was in a state of obvious sleep deprivation when I got home, but I still managed to clean up the apartment including a few drops of blood on the sofa. Mail me to

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