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PAUL sucked Paul again and helped him

 


Paul (m/f inc teen)
(c) 2001 Anais Ninja (anais_ninja@hotmail.com)

The story called "Linda's Lust for Boys" really struck a sympathetic
chord. I've had the same desires and, yes: I've acted on them.

I guess it began with my little brother. He was three years younger
than me, born with cerebral palsy. Despite that, he was a beautiful
child, with deep blue eyes and flaxen blond hair (it was rumored that
his handicap was "divine retribution" for our mother's indiscretions,
as most of our family had brown eyes and black hair), and the most
fair skin imaginable. Paul was an angel in a wheelchair.

As soon as I turned 14 and entered middle school, my parents delegated
his morning and evening care to me. This consisted of bathing him,
taking care of his toilet needs (in other words, wiping his ass),
dressing him for school, and at the end of the day bathing him again
and getting him ready for bed.

After a few days of our new routine, Paul began to get erections in
the bath. Soon after that, he would get hard when I was wiping his
bottom in the morning. And soon after that, he'd be pitching a tent
when I woke him up in the morning.

One morning Paul looked up at me as I carried him into the bathroom,
his hard young cock tenting his pajama bottoms, and said "Bleah?".

Paul could talk, even though he couldn't control his tongue and lips
too well. Our parents never bothered to understand him, but I could.
I knew the word "Please" just by looking into his eyes. I stripped
his bottoms and briefs off, setting him down on the toilet so he could
void his bowels. When he was done, I cleaned him with baby wipes, took
off his top, and sat him in the bathtub, already filled with warm
water.

"Bleah?" he pleaded, looking up at me, his firm little cock pointing
up towards the surface.

"Sure, Paul. Just this once," I said, soaping my hand up and reaching
for his crotch. I stroked his hard cock with my soapy hand as I
knelt next to the bathtub, holding his shoulders and feeling him
tremble and shudder as I jerked his young penis.

It didn't take much stroking for him to come, his stiff 3" cock
twitching and oozing a tiny pearl of semen into the warm bath water.
For the first time ever Paul relaxed, his hands uncurling and his
spasms subsiding. He smiled, tears welling in his beautiful blue
eyes. He looked like an angel.

"Dan ku, Ah-nee," he whispered, meaning "Thank you, Annie". I kissed
him on his forehead and finished his bath. He got hard again while I
dried him off, but his bus was due soon and I had to get him dressed
and make his breakfast. I kissed him again as I wheeled him out to
the driveway where the bus would pick him up for school.
"Luff you, Ah-nee," Paul said, as I was carrying him to the bathroom
for his evening bath. I kissed him as I laid him in the warm water,
my hand reaching for his hardness, stroking him until he came. He
looked so angelic, smiling at me as he relaxed in the warm bath water.

This was the beginning of what became a routine, jerking him off in
the bath twice a day. Our parents were oblivious to what we were
doing, more concerned with their own affairs, swinging with other
married couples. For my part, I'd frig my clit furiously, imagining
my little brother as an adult, out of his wheelchair and fucking me
with his smooth little boycock.

A couple of months later, Paul came home with a Tandy 100, an early
laptop with an LCD screen that displayed four lines of 80 characters.
Tapping keys with two knuckles was much easier than trying to write
with pencil and paper, and Paul's grades showed an immediate
improvement, as did his self-esteem.

One night, not long after Paul started using the laptop, I was tucking
him into bed when he reached for the little computer. He tapped out a
short message:

thank you annie. i wish i could make you feel good too.

"Maybe you can," I replied, kissing him on the forehead. He was still
relaxed in the afterglow of his bath time orgasm, the tremors in his
limbs stilled for a while.

"how?" he tapped out.

I walked over to the door and locked it, even though our parents were
out for the evening. Then, standing next to the bed, I began to
undress, starting with my blouse and skirt. Paul's eyes widened as
I sat on the edge of the bed, wearing just my soft cotton bra and
panties. I unclasped the bra and shrugged the straps off of my
shoulders, letting the cups fall from my budding breasts.

I brought Paul's hands up to my tits, running his fingers over my
nipples so he could feel them stiffen and grow. I noticed that his
cock was doing the same, pulsing under the sheets. I let go of one of
his hands so I could stroke his young member through the soft blanket.

I stood up for a second to pull down my panties and step out of them.
Then I got back into bed, straddling Paul's tummy so he could see my
sex. I'd just started growing hair down there, so everything was
visible.

"You boo ful," Paul said. I leaned down and kissed him, not like a
sister but like a lover, parting his lips and teasing his tongue with
my own. Then I straightened back up, taking his hand and placing it
on my mound. I parted my labia and helped him dip a finger inside me,
moistening it and spreading the wetness over my swollen clit. Guiding
his hands with my own, he masturbated me, one hand on my little pearl
and the other one banging my little hole.

Paul watched in fascination as I pleasured myself with his fingers,
my breath growing heavy as I began to moan. I rocked my hips back
and forth, holding his hands against my sex as I straddled his body.
I could feel his stiff cock, rubbing against my bottom from beneath
the sheets with each thrust of my hips. The feeling of his stiff
young prick between my cheeks was enough to send me over the edge.
I closed my eyes and cried out as my orgasm hit, making me tremble
and spasm with pleasure, the feeling enhanced by the fact that it
was my little brother's fingers inside me and on my clit.

"Are oo ok?" Paul asked, a look of fear and bewilderment on his face.
He'd pulled his hands away when I came, thinking that I'd had some
sort of seizure.

"Yes, sweetie. That's just how I come," I replied, laying next to
him and kissing him on the cheek. "Thank you, Paul." He reached for
his laptop.

"you looked like you had cp for a moment," he typed out, laughing as
passed it over for me to read.

"I wouldn't mind having CP if it felt like that," I said. Paul's
erection had returned and was pitching a tent again. I pulled the
sheets down off of his body and began to loosen his pajama bottoms
and pull down his briefs, freeing his hard young boycock. I leaned
into his lap and kissed the tip of his penis.

"Wha oo do?" Paul asked, flinching at the touch of my lips.

"Relax, Paul. You'll love this, I promise," I reassured him. He
relaxed as best as he could, gasping when I slowly wrapped my lips
around his stiff cock and began to gently suck him.

"Ooooo..." he moaned when I tongued his hairless scrotum, suckling on
his robin's-egg-sized testes before returning to his 4" shaft. I
ravished his young cock with my mouth, bathing his stiffy with my
tongue. His hips began to move back and forth as I sucked him,
matching my rhythm, thrusting his young spear between my lips.

"Ah...ah...ah..." Paul cried, his thrusts getting faster and faster
until he arched his back, his cock twitching in my mouth as he came.
I tasted a drop of semen and kept my lips on him, milking him as he
softened in my mouth.

"Dan ku," he sighed, his blue eyes moistening. I lay next to him and
held him, rocking him gently to sleep. He was so beautiful when he
slept, and I watched him for a while before quietly slipping out of
bed, gathering my clothes, and heading for my own bedroom.

* * * (c) 2001 anais_ninja@hotmail.com
Our parents took frequent vacations, heading off to Europe or some
tropic resort for a week or two, leaving my brother and I to fend
for ourselves. Actually, it wasn't that bad since our housekeeper
cooked dinner and did the laundry, and our aunt would check up on us
every couple of days. mom would leave cash for pizza on the weekends
or for emergencies, so we'd have the run of the house for a week or
two.

This time it was ten days in Cozumel. The tough part was that our
parents would be away for Paul's 12th birthday. It wasn't too hard to
tell that Paul was really miserable about this, but our parents could
care less. I made a promise to myself that I'd make it up to him.

Our parents flew out on a Saturday, and that evening we ordered pizza,
Paul's favorite meal. After dinner I surprised him with a birthday
cake (his actual birthday was a few days away), helping him huff out
the candles.

"youre the greatest sister. i love you annie," he tapped out on his
laptop.

"Just wait...there's more," I said, hugging him and giving him a great
big kiss. "Let's get you in the bath and then I'll give you the rest
of your presents."

I gave Paul's stiff cock a few gentle strokes while I bathed him, but
he was surprised when he didn't get his usual hand job. I dried him
off and dressed him in just a bathrobe instead of his usual pajamas.
Then I wheeled him into the living room. His eyes lit up when he saw
the brightly wrapped presents. I carried him out of his chair and
placed him on the couch, across from the television. Our parents never let Paul sit on the couch, afraid that he'd lose control of
his bowels on the expensive leather furniture, but I knew he wouldn't.

"Happy birthday, sweetie," I said, kissing his forehead. I sat next to
him and helped him with the ribbons and wrapping paper, revealing one
present after another. It was all porn, videotapes and magazines that
my best friend's older brother had bought for me. Paul had never seen
anything like it, and was eager to watch one of the movies. I popped
one into the VCR and hit the play button.

Paul's hard little cock poked from his bathrobe even before the
credits had rolled, as the tape had a few minutes of phone sex ads
at the beginning. As for the movie itself, a collection of couples,
threesomes, and moresomes fucking and sucking under a sunny Southern
California sky, Paul was spellbound. I reached into his lap and
stroked his hard boycock as he stared at the television.

Paul was happier than I'd ever seen him, his grin a mile wide as he
watched the tangle of tanned and oiled bodies pulsating on the screen.
I leaned over, spreading his thighs, and took his hard young cock in
my mouth, sucking him as he watched the movie. He sighed and relaxed
as my head bobbed in his lap, my lips and tongue ravishing his young member. His hips began to rock as he surrendered to my hungry mouth,
his breath growing heavier as his pleasure mounted. I felt his thighs
twitch and his body shuddered as he came, shooting a couple of squirts
of his sweet boycum in my mouth. Paul settled back into the couch with
a sigh, his cock softening in my mouth.

"Happy birthday," I said, gently kissing him on the cheek.

"Dan ku," he whispered, hugging me tightly. We sat together on the
couch, watching the rest of the movie. I hadn't seen much porn at
that time, and the sight of a blonde woman with perfectly spherical
breasts taking two men at once, one in her mouth and one in her pussy,
was making me extremely horny. I slipped a hand under my skirt and
inside my panties, rubbing my clit as I watched the film.

Imagining myself as the blonde woman in the movie, between two huge,
veiny cocks pistoning in and out, I frigged myself madly, using my
other hand to penetrate my wet pussy. I felt Paul's hand on my breast,
cupping it as he divided his attention between the movie and his
masturbating sister. Just as the two men pulled out of the blonde's
mouth and pussy and covered her with thick, ropy jets of semen, I
climaxed hard, moaning and shuddering on the couch. My hands slowed
but didn't stop, and as the next scene in the movie began, a redhead
servicing three muscular men, I kept rubbing my clit, bringing forth
a series of mini-orgasms that kept me on the edge of coming again.

We watched the rest of the first movie, saving the others for later
in the week. I sucked Paul again, and helped him finger me to another
orgasm. After the movie, I wheeled him into our parent's bedroom and
carried him into their big, soft bed.

"Slee wi me?" Paul asked, as I removed his robe.

"Yes, sweetie. We're going to sleep together tonight," I replied as
I undressed. I climbed into bed with him, pulling the covers up
over us, holding his trembling young body close to me. He'd never
slept naked, and he sighed contentedly as our warm bodies touched.
I felt his cock stiffen against my thigh as I stroked his smooth
back and bottom.

"Are you ready for your last present?" I whispered. Paul nodded,
expecting another blow job. Instead, I rolled him on his back
and straddled him, reaching down to stroke his stiff cock. I could
see his eyes widen in the dark as I placed the tip of his penis against
the entrance of my moist vagina.

"Yu geh pre nan?" Paul asked.

"No, I won't get pregnant. I'm wearing a diaphragm," I replied. He
gave me a quizzical expression. "I'll explain later," I whispered,
letting the tip of his cock part my labia. I'd lost my virginity
the previous summer, and after a scare caused by my boyfriend's
condom slipping off inside me, I forged my mother's signature on a
consent form and got fitted for a diaphragm at a local clinic.

Paul looked up at me expectantly as I guided his sweet boycock inside
me, and I settled my hips down on to his, my hungry pussy swallowing
his stiff prick.

"How does that feel, baby?" I asked him.

"Goo insie," he replied.

"You feel good inside me, too." I kissed him as I began to move my
hips, my warm, wet sex gripping and releasing his stiff boycock.
As I rocked my hips faster, I straightened my back, bringing my breasts level with Paul's face. He began to suckle one of my puffy brown
nipples, his tongue flicking over it wildly. I pressed down on his
hardness with my hips, rubbing my clit against the top of his shaft.

"Yes, Paul. Just like that," I cooed as he began to move his hips
against mine, spearing me with his hard little pecker. He took his
lips off my breast and looked down, watching his glistening rod
disappear inside me. Then he looked up at me and smiled, his face
glowing with delight. I felt like crying and coming at the same time.
He looked so beautiful, so happy.

Before the tears could start my climax began to well up, that telltale
tingle starting at my clit and radiating outward, down my thighs and
up into my belly. Seeking my release, I lay on top of Paul, relishing
the feeling of skin on skin, our hips thrusting against each other,
his warm breath on my shoulder.

"Oh, Paul...you're going to make me come...I'm gonna come," I moaned.
He squirmed under me, stabbing my sex with his cock. I felt one of
my nipples rubbing against his and began to climax, my thighs quivering
against his, my pussy spasming around his hardness.

"Cum...too..." he gasped, lifting his hips off the bed, trying to bury
his boycock inside me as he climaxed. He settled back down on to the
bed, exhausted and visibly pleased with himself. I kissed him deeply,
lovingly.

"Thank you, Paul," I whispered. "You fucked me like a porn star."

"I luff you, Annie," he said, straining to pronounce the words right.
It took a moment for me to realize that his expression was one of
pride, something I'd never seen cross his beautiful face. His smile
tugged at my heart, and I fell in love with my sweet angel of a
brother.

"I love you, too," I said. One of my tears fell on his cheek, mixing
with his own. I held him tight, feeling his body's tremors and shakes
against my own quiet sobbing.

After a while I rolled off of him, his flaccid penis slipping out of
me. We held each other like lovers as we fell asleep in our parents'
bed.

For the rest of that long week we fucked like crazed weasels, all over
the house. I had him on top of me, under me, side-by-side. The only
position we couldn't do was doggie, as Paul's disability prevented him
from balancing himself on my back while he thrust his cock inside me.

We fucked in our parents' bed, our beds, the living room couch, the
living room floor, the kitchen table, the back seat of our parents'
Mercedes, by the pool, in the pool, and on top of the dryer while
it was running, which was really, really good.

Our parents returned from their vacation, oblivious to our contented
looks. Their neglect became an asset, letting us run wild while
they concentrated on their own pleasures.

* * *

To Paul's credit he told no one of our activities, not that anyone
would believe him. The only person I told was my best friend, and
that was just so I could give Paul his 14th birthday present, a two-
girl blow job. Laura, my friend, admitted that she had a sort of a
crush on Paul, despite his cerebral palsy. I was glad that I wasn't
the only person who was attracted to him. Our parents had delegated
more and more of Paul's care to me as the years passed, and I made
sure that he was always well dressed and coifed, taking him to my
own hairdresser to have his flaxen locks cut and styled. I was
determined to make him look smashing, like the perfect angel that
he was. He loved the attention, enjoying my hairdresser's small
talk and gentle touch. She cut his hair for free, only grudgingly
accepting a tip for cutting the hair of "her angel".

I wish I had a good ending to this story. I kept my brother happy
until I had to leave for college. I guided him through four years
of physical therapy, helping him get out of the wheelchair and on to
crutches. At night I gave him a different sort of physical therapy,
showing him how to pleasure himself and me, teaching him how to fuck,
lick, and please a woman. When our parents offered to buy me a car
on my 16th birthday, I asked for a handicap van so I could drive Paul
around on dates that I arranged.

I kept Paul happy and satisfied, even though I had other boyfriends.
I even broke up with a boy who didn't want Paul along at our junior
prom. Paul didn't attend my senior prom because I gave my graduation
present, a trip with my parents to Hedonism II, to him. He returned
full of tales of our parents' sexual exploits with other couples. Paul
admitted that our mother had another woman suck his cock, but she
wasn't nearly as good as me.

At the end of my freshman year at Stanford, I received a phone
call from my parents, informing me that Paul died of pneumonia.
I avoided them at the funeral and hired a lawyer to look into the
circumstances of Paul's death. There was no evidence of neglect,
just the medical consensus that sixteen years of cerebral palsy
had left Paul vulnerable to a viral infection. "It happens," they
told me.

My parents had established a trust fund for Paul's lifetime health
care, and those funds were transferred to my account. Even though
I wouldn't speak to my parents, my mother wrote me often, assuring me
that they'd keep paying my tuition. After finals, I moved in with my
aunt, a divorcee with two young sons. They had Paul's blonde hair and
blue eyes and it tugged at my heart to see them play in the back yard,
like Paul would have done if he wasn't in a wheelchair.

Paul had hired a lawyer on my advice, even though he was only fifteen
when I left for college. Six weeks after the funeral I received a
letter bearing the return address of a prestigious downtown law firm.
There was a brief cover letter, written in obfuscated legalese, wrapped
around a printout of a letter from Paul:

My Dearest sister Annie,

To simply say "I love you" would not do justice to the
feelings I have for you, my sweet sister. You are the
only person who loves me, the only person who sees the
"me" that is trapped within this broken vessel that is
my body. This is a gift that transcends the pleasure you
have given me, and as much as I appreciate that, the
fact that you understand my broken speech and understand
my needs is the greatest gift of all. I love you, Annie.

mom and Dad just see the "short bus" and the "special
school", but you saw me as a person and I thank you for
that.

You are my angel.

Love,
Paul
I cried like a baby, sitting in my aunt's kitchen, my tears pooling
on my brother's letter. The kitchen door banged shut and my aunt's
son, Brett, stood there, watching me cry. He'd just come out of the
swimming pool and his wet bathing suit clung to his body.

"What's wrong, Aunt Annie?" he asked. We were really cousins, but I
was an adult at nineteen and thus an "aunt". Brett was my Aunt Josie's
youngest, only eleven years old. His brother was thirteen and they
had boundless energy, spending the long summer days in the pool or
riding their bikes around the neighborhood.

"Nothing, sweetie. Just a letter from a friend," I replied.

"You look so sad," he said, walking over to hug me.

"No, really. I'm happy."

"But you're crying."

"I know, sweetie," I said, hugging him. "Come, Aunt Annie wants to
take a nap. Would you like to take a nap with me, sweetie?" Brett
smiled as I took him by the hand and led him to the guest room, his
hard little cock straining against the wet fabric of his bathing suit.

* * *

Paul (m/f inc teen)
(c) 2001 Anais Ninja (anais_ninja@hotmail.com)

 

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