The Day We Did Janey Ch. 02

Janey raised her head, straining up, and stared at her brother through the valley between her boobs and over the riot of auburn hair atop her mound. What a pretty face. Those dark bangs over her wide green eyes, the cute uplifted nose, the generous mouth. But still...I was amazed she had heard Debbie ask Timmy what he wanted to do to her.

Because she was moaning like a lost soul as Debbie's slim fingers tickled her out-sized swollen clit—never letting her climax.

But yeah, she had heard. "Timmy," she commanded, her voice strong, but strained by her neck's position, "don't you touch me. I'm your sister. Did you forget that?"

"Oh? So what about the 18-inch elastic band you drew back and zapped into my nuts?" asked Timmy tonelessly. His head hung, not meeting her gaze.

"Just don't touch me," said Janey with finality.

Then Timmy looked up, right back at her, and reached out as though to a keyboard and touched Janey's swollen clit. Still holding her gaze, he moved his fingertips over the long pink tube. He ended by running just the tip of one finger over the pink meat of her thrusting little "penis." With a sigh of surrender, Janey let her head fall back to the table.

As Timmy tickled the pink protrusion, it seemed—impossibly-to push out even farther and to drive Janey mad. "Naaaoooh," she pleaded. Her fat pubic mound thrust up violently, meeting his touch. Don't touch your sister my ass.

I don't mean to interrupt, but right here I had a sudden revelation. Janey didn't play the prim, stingy virgin to tease the guys. No, she just didn't dare to turn the key because she knew, once her engine started, she would be helpless—giving it all up, every time, to any guy, because she'd be totally out of control. I mean, even trapped in a shack by five guys and a black whore, and tied down, her lust ruled her. I guess I felt sorry, right then-but what about zapping Timmy's balls? Where did that come from?

Timmy was on his knees, now, his face right between Janey's pale thighs, and suddenly Janey shrieked so loudly that we all jumped: "What are you doing? NO, Timmy."

And then I saw Timmy's tongue and lips, soft and very wet, gliding back and forth over the pink meat of the little penis that thrust from her swollen clit. I saw his tongue go after it, flick it, make agonizingly slow love to it.

"No, Jesus no, Timmy, not there. Please, God, not there. No." And so she went babbling on. But he had no mercy, and soon her thighs, and her legs with the sprinkling of freckles, were jerking spasmodically, wantonly thrusting up her cunt to Timmy's mouth.

It was obvious to me, now. Janey wasn't a bitch. She was a volcano of lust—and she knew it. If kissing, or teasing her boobs, ever had began, she would have-well, fucked her brains out, helplessly. And so she rejected every advance, as though imperious, removed from it all. But in truth she was terrified she would be fucking, helplessly, with all comers, with all the consequences of that...

Suddenly, Timmy yelled, "Hey," and jerked back his face. It was soaking wet, dripping. And a golden stream was shooting out from Janey's pussy, a stream that seemed to target Timmy as he tried to scrambled back, still on his knees. "She's pissing on me," he yelled, his tone one of shock.

I wondered if Janey meant to do it. The powerful stream arced out almost straight. We were all laughing, Debbie to split a gut. Timmy was not laughing, though; he was standing staring at his sister's cunt as though it was a gun.

When I stopped laughing, tears on my cheeks, I heard Timmy asking Debbie, his eyes trying to avoid the lofty shelf of her tits with their egregious black nipples, "How can I hurt her, like she hurt my nuts?"

"Yo caint," said Debbie flatly. "Nothing you can do to a woman is agonizin' like what she done to your balls. There ain't no pain like it. And all the time you wondering if you goin' to be unmanned."

Timmy nodded slowly. "Still," he said, "what can I do?"

"Hold it," said Debbie, and she stepped quickly into what seemed to be her bedroom, calling, "You kin try this..."

When she came out, I said, "Oh shit, that's a stun gun."

"That's correct," said Debbie. "A guy came down here once, wantin' to use it on me, and fool that I am I let him tie me up. I didn't know what the fuckin' thing was, back then."

She shook her head, looking down at the stun gun. "First, he zapped my tits and I screamed my head off—an' I don' generally do that. I was beggin' him, babblin' like a baby, sayin' anything..." She paused. "Well, that's enough. I can't tell you what happened. I passed out maybe six times. That's what I was prayed to do, along with prayin' to die."

She looked at us and added, after a moment. "He shoved it right into my fur, my slit." And after a moment, she said: "Anyway, that gentlemen isn't with us, anymore. And I kept this for self-protection."

Timmy held out his hand. "Give it to me. This is the trigger? And this is what I touch on her?"

"Nope," said Debbie. "I'm goin' to let you use it when you see for yourself how it feels." She looked up at the rest of us. Of the four of us, I was the only one who had even touched Janey, so far. The rest were spectators.

Debbie said, "Take hold of him and turn him around."

Timmy didn't resist, at first. We had his arms held tight and his backside turned to Debbie. She knelt down behind him and reached around his waist, opening his belt.

"No," gasped Timmy trying to jerk away.

Debbie laughed. "What? You don't even want us to see your dick?" But by then, she had hauled his pants and underwear down to the floor and stepped his feet out of them. I glanced down. Timmy's prick was like a Billy Club, only so red it was getting purple. The foreskin had withdrawn far back, so his meat glistened wetly, standing at attention like a soldier.

"No," he whined, "No, Debbie..." and he was straining to look over his shoulder. Debbie, still one her knees, was rubbing her titties back and forth across his legs; her hand came around him and took hold of his cock and pumped it a little. She was tickling his butt with her tongue.

"Oh, God," he murmured.

She said, "Okay, here it comes," and, before he could protest, I saw her touch the stun gun's wand to his butt.

I am at a loss for words, here. Timmy's cry was inhuman, at least nothing I ever heard. There's some kind of myth, I thought, about people in emergencies doing things beyond their ordinary strength. Well, sure enough, it took four of us, straining, to hold Timmy.

Then, Debbie stuck the wand into the crack of his butt-not all the way, obviously, just a quick in and out. After that, we were holding a limp sack of quivering flesh that only could whimper and plead.

"Okay, turn him 'round this way," commanded Debbie. We did, so that Timmy was facing her, still held tight from behind, his dick now totally flaccid, dangling like a seriously overcooked noodle.

Debbie moved the wand toward him, toward the head of his cock. She asked, "Should I do it, here?"

Timmy rammed his body back into us, shoving all four of us back in his spasm of terror, pulling away from the thing, and his scream was high pitched, a Banshee cry...

"No?" asked Debbie calmly. "Then don't go sticking this on your sister's pussy, you hear me?"

Timmy's cry was incoherent, so I can't report what he said.

Let me skip, here, until Timmy recovered. He sure had back his hard-on. Debbie held up the stun gun and Timmy screamed, but all she asked was "Do you want to use this on your sister?"

From the table came a long, drawn out, "Nooooo... please? Noooo?"

"Yes, I do," said Timmy, but it was almost a whisper. "I want to do her. But not between her legs or anything."

And then, Janey amazed me. She was less afraid of the stun gun than of being titillated on her most sensitive parts. Debbie handed Timmy the gun and he stepped to the table, looking down at Janey.

She only said, "Now I get this thing on my titties? Is that it?"

She added, "I thought you loved my boobs?"

In reply, Timmy reached out with the silver metal of the wand and brushed it across one of Janey's big nipples.

Janey's body went rigid, her teeth bit into her lower lip, and her eyes, incredibly wide, looked wild. But...she made not a sound.

"Stop," snapped Debbie and grabbed the wand, pulling it away. "You just touch her with it."

Timmy nodded and Debbie released the stun gun to him. He stood for a moment, gazing at Janey's body, laid out like some lush present, the curves and mounds and lines with that perfection that we experience only in looking at the body of the opposite sex.

Then, he leaned slightly forward, reaching out, and touched the wand to her navel. Janey's hips jerked, heaving, and the big, fleshy boobs seemed to shake on their own, like Jell-O. She gave a long, low cry.

"Okay, give over," Debbie demanded. "That's enough." Timmy quickly complied. She turned to us, "Anyone here curious what it would be like on the tip of yo' dick—just real quick?"

There were no takers.

"Okay," said Debbie. "You all standin' there with baseball bats up touching your belly buttons. She's all yours..." and she waved an invitation at Jamey offered naked body.

The four of us looked at each other.

Ernie spoke first, looking down. "I just want to stick it in her and fuck her. That's all. I'm totally on fire, right now." I could see from his cock that he was indeed. The thing was arched back in a curve and slightly quivering. You don't get harder than that.

He went and stood between Janey's invitingly wrenched-apart thighs. He took his cock in his hand and had to push it down to get it at the level of her cunt. Then, he looked up into her face.

"I'm a virgin, you know," said Janey matter-of-factly. "I don't suppose that matters? This is how I'm going to lose it?"