James & Emily: The Lesson

He was clearly enjoying himself, but just as clearly in control of his cock; even as the shaft throbbed in my mouth, I knew he wouldn't cum until he was ready.

"Remember what I said about putting on a show," he said, his voice composed. "Use your left hand and stroke your pussy for me. Show me how you touch yourself at night when I hear you squealing in your room."

I felt my inner walls clench at his words, and I felt I must be leaving a puddle of my juices on the guest room floor. I let my hand wander down and rubbed my slit, circling my fingers around my clit. I moaned around his dick in my mouth.

"Good girl," he praised. "A little more suction. You can use your lips while still ensuring they protect my shaft from your teeth. You're doing a very nice job of not scraping me; now use your tongue and your cheeks and what you can of your lips to close in and create a vacuum." I followed his verbal instructions as best I could; his hands stroked my hair, lightly positioning and angling my head to optimize the blowjob I was giving him.

"Now use your tongue to massage me, as much as you can." His voice was getting strangled; his fingers clenched in my hair. "Perfect. Now try to let me a little bit further down your throat. Breathe through your nose."

It was a lot to remember, and I did my best, still strumming at my own pussy, whimpering in my throat. I'd never been more turned on in my life.

"Fuck yes, Emily, god. Your mouth feels so goddamn good," he groaned. "I'm going to cum. I want to shoot my cum down your throat."

I nodded, but it didn't seem like he was asking my permission, because he was already exploding; I swallowed frantically, managing to keep any of it from running out my mouth, although my lips were coated with his cream. I licked them off; he gazed at me, his eyes glazed and satisfied.

"That was amazing," he informed me. "I told you Brian was a moron."

"I couldn't take you all the way in," I said, pleased but not willing to believe his assessment just yet.

"That's just a matter of time," he said confidently. "You should get some toys and practice."

"How am I going to get toys?" I asked him, somewhat irritably; I was still very aroused, although I'd stopped playing with my pussy when James had cum. I'd been bold to ask him for that much, and to go over that line felt presumptuous. "I don't have a job, remember? I can't exactly ask Dad and Mom for money for sex toys. And they both said they don't want me working till I'm nineteen. I'm only eighteen, in case you forgot."

He laughed. "Oh, I couldn't forget. Eighteen, dangerous and delicious."

"How would you know?" That was the hash talking, but his eyes glinted.

"The last time you said something like that ..." His voice trailed off, and he laughed. "It's only fair. Come here."

"What?"

"I want to eat you out now. I want to show you what it's like to experience really good head from the receiving end. You've earned it. And ..." he said. Then laughed. "I feel like I shouldn't tell you this, but then again, you're always open with me, and I did just blow a load down your throat."

"What?" I demanded.

"I stole a couple of pairs of your panties," he admitted after a pause. "Used ones." There was another pause, a longer one. "You smell fucking delicious, you know."

I felt a smile stretching my lips involuntarily. "Pervert," I giggled.

He raised an eyebrow at me. "Look who's talking."

"So you thought I was attractive?" I ventured, after another pause.

"Shit, Emily, I thought I made that clear," he said, a hint of exasperation in his tone. "You have no idea. I'm ashamed of the fantasies I have about you."

"You shouldn't be," I told him. "I fantasize about you, too."

"Well, I want to make another of my fantasies come true before you put your clothes back on and we forget this ever happened," James informed me. I felt a twinge at the last part of his sentence. "Let's switch positions."

I felt shy and nervous, butterflies flittering in my stomach; it had been one thing to suck on my half-brother's cock, but for some reason, his face in my pussy made me more nervous.

But also excited.

He was almost reverent as he spread my legs, spending a long moment just looking at my pussy. He pulled my cunt lips apart, stroking two fingers up my slit and then circling my clit, echoing what I'd been doing to myself.

He'd been paying attention.

"You're so fucking hot, Emily," he breathed, and I knew for sure this time he wasn't lying.

He started lapping at my clit at first, paying direct attention to it, then moving lower to suck and nibble on my folds and stick his tongue in my hole. I cried out and bucked my hips, but he'd been prepared for it; I realized he was holding my thighs down, preventing me from thrashing away from his mouth. I moaned and twitched, unable to keep still, fighting to process all of the sensations his mouth was causing in my crotch.

It went on forever; he teased me to the brink again and again, holding me down when I protested, taking breaks to stroke and rub my swollen clit and the rest of my pussy. It wasn't until I begged him again that he licked me once more to the brink and continued beyond; the orgasm seemed to last for at least five minutes. I lay exhausted on the bed, panting and sweating, utterly spent, when it was over. James was hard again, and he stroked his cock unashamedly with one hand, circling the other between my dripping cunt and my heaving breasts. It wasn't long before he peaked again, shooting his load on his belly.

"I'm sorry," he said afterward. "I shouldn't have touched you."

I laughed. "You just had your whole face there."

"I know," he told me, "but we didn't talk about it. I got carried away."

"It's okay," I said, sitting up. "I should go get cleaned up."

"Yeah." James's mouth quirked in a smile. "Me, too."

"Thank you," I told him, sincerely. "That truly was instructional."

"You're welcome," he said.

I hesitated. "I meant what I said about being unable to get toys," I said softly.

He looked at me, a hint of the smolder I'd seen in his eyes earlier. "Are you asking me to pick some up for you?"

I shrugged. "Maybe. Maybe I'm asking you to let me practice on you some more. Depends on what you're willing to do."

"Let's talk about it later," he said, after a loaded pause.

"Okay," I said, gathering my clothes. "Thanks again."

Even though James insisted I'd had the basics down already, I still hear his voice in my head every time I get ready to suck a cock. Whether he ever allowed me to practice that particular skill again -- and whether I ever learned any others at his hands -- is a different story, but every time I watch pair of eyes widen when I start to put on a little show, before I wrap my lips around his shaft, I smile a secret little smile for James.