Painting the Flagpole

He interrupted my in-depth study. "OK, Amy, can we just do this please?"

"Oh, sure, no problem."

I pulled the trigger on the hose nozzle and watched the water stream all over his bare cock, dripping down the shaft, soaking his balls, and continuing to run down his bare legs.

Carefully avoiding his cock, I buried my hand in his patch of dark, curly hair, still mildly aware that I was supposed to be cleaning him up. I thought I would be able to reach all his hair without touching his cock, but pretty soon I realized that wasn't possible, because some hair was directly behind his cock, and there were a few strands right at the base. Once he was good and wet, I set down the hose and grabbed his shaft, pulling it down toward the ground while I flecked all the hair behind it. As soon as I grabbed the shaft, Ken let out a groan, and when I looked up at him, I saw that his eyes were closed and his head was rolled backwards. I watched him breathe more deeply and quickly than before. I let go of his cock and watched it pop back up to attention.

This is my brother, I kept telling myself. My brother's cock. But then again, there's nothing wrong with me seeing my brother naked, cleaning him up, just like when we were little. It's not like we were having sex or something. Yes, his cock was hard, but that's just the way they are sometimes. You can't just stop what you're doing every time a guy pops a woody, or no one would ever accomplish anything.

Thus reassured, my hand snaked down towards his balls, carefully massaging first one, then the next, then both at the same time, making sure to clean them thoroughly. I wasn't thinking particularly clearly by then, and I watched almost as an outsider as my hand kept going further south. His feet moved apart without any prompting on my part, giving me better access between his legs.

I pulled my hand back and put it around the shaft of his cock, right at the base, and circled it around back and forth. By this point, I couldn't see any more white flecks, but I wasn't ready to stop working on him either.

I could feel my body responding to his excitement with flashes of energy of my own. Despite the sun and the heat, I could tell that a different kind of warmth was overtaking me. My face felt warm, and I could feel the heat spreading to my chest.

My fingers lightly trailed along the length of his cock. When I got to the tip, even though he was all wet, I could feel a drop of precum waiting for me, so much slipperier than the plain water. I rewarded him by spreading the precum all over the head of his cock, and he responded with a deep moan. His cock pulsed and strained beneath my fingers, and a new drop of precum emerged. The tip was only an inch from my face, and I wondered what it would taste like, but I opted not to try a sample. Instead I put both hands on his cock, stroking him in earnest. One hand started at the base and slowly traversed his length, and then the other hand followed the same way. His cock was long enough that I could fit both my hands completely around it at the same time and still have room to stroke him.

Ken's body started moving in rhythm with me, leaning slightly into me on every stroke, forcing his cock through my hands. He was moaning on the same rhythm, a little louder than before, every time he breathed out. I picked up the pace, and he kept right up with me. The head of his cock was getting darker, changing from mostly pinkish to a deep red, and I let one hand explore the ridge where the tip ends and the shaft begins.

"Amy . . . Oh, god, Amy . . . " he blurted out, at the same time as one of his hands moved down and squeezed my hands around his cock. He pumped his hand over mine, more quickly than I'd been stroking him, squeezing his cock harder than I'd been. My left hand was completely squashed between his hand and his cock, just going along for the ride as he pumped. I freed my right hand, and I used it to fondle his balls and the base of his cock.

With him on display, it was plain to see how his entire body was focused intently on what he was doing. Powerful muscles in his legs contracted and relaxed in time with his movements. His chest rose and fell heavily, and I looked down and saw that even his toes tightened and relaxed to the same beat.

For some reason, his toes gave me a jolt of conscience. The same toes I'd known my whole life, the toes I'd taken baths with, now working in tandem with every other part of his body to serve a sexual craving I'd unwittingly unleashed. The entire foundation of our healthy sibling relationship was at risk. What was I thinking?

I struggled to separate my left hand from his grip, at the same time disengaging his hand from his cock. I stood up, took two steps backward, and said, "Ken, I'm sorry, I never should have . . . "

The words trailed off. Never should have what? Forced you to get naked for me? Fondled you? Even thinking about what to say filled me with shame. And compounding the shame was the way my body responded to him, still unquestionably aroused.

He looked at me with uncertainty in his eyes. "Yeah," he said, "you're probably right." He held his hands at his sides, but his cock, beet red now, still throbbed with energy.

"Is that thing gonna be ok?"

"What, this?" He playfully slapped his cock back and forth from one side to the other, letting it rebound to center. "Sure. I just need to get cooled off."

"Not so easy on a day this hot."

"Yeah, hot in more ways than one." He spied the hose on the grass and picked it up. "Maybe some cold water." He held the nozzle an inch above his cock and released a stream of water--more than a trickle, but less than the blast I'd given him.

My earlier pang of conscience did not seem to interfere with watching my naked brother deal with his problem. I remained transfixed by his cock, watching again as the water coursed over its thickness. I didn't detect even a hint of softening, but he said, "Yeah, that's helping."

He abruptly released the trigger and looked up at me with another unusual expression, one eyebrow partly raised and a bit of a grin. If nothing else, I was getting to know another whole repertoire of Ken's facial expressions. A few lingering droplets meandered down the length of his cock, transitioning to his balls, then gathering their courage before falling to the lawn.

"What?" I asked.

"Well, it just occurred to me that I have the hose now."

"So?"

"It's just that, whoever has the hose is in charge."

"Fine, so you're in charge now." Even as I said the words, I thought about what I'd done to him while I'd had the hose, and my heart skipped a beat. Is that what he had in mind?

"It looks like you have some paint on your knees," he said. Let me give you a hand with that."

I looked down and saw that my knees were damp with paint-colored water and a few flecks of grass clippings. Certainly nothing that needed the hose. "No, they're fine, I'll get them inside."

"Ah, but you shouldn't really go in the house like that."

"This from the brother who wanted to wear a gallon of paint in the house."

This got a smile out of him. "My standards have tightened since then."

"So you want to hose off my knees, is that it?"

"I thought you'd never ask." He moved the hose right to my left knee and just barely touched the trigger, eking out a tiny stream of water that trickled over my knee and down my leg. The water was cold, but it was refreshing in the heat. He moved the nozzle around, allowing the water to reach every part of my knee, and then, as I had done, he brought his free hand to assist.

However, his hand on my knee was very different from the way I'd used my hand on him. His touch was soft, slow, delicate. His fingers gently interrupted the trickle of water that ran down my leg, making it splash just a little. He was so careful with the hose that he didn't get so much as a drop of water anywhere above my knee. I felt a pang of regret for how forcefully I'd blasted him earlier. I had no idea he could be so tender.

He moved to the other knee, giving it the same treatment. The touch of his hand on my skin was amazingly sensual, and in combination with the events of a few minutes before, it was not helping to reduce my state of arousal. I needed to get away from my brother, strip off all my clothes, and let my fingers swirl through the dampness between my legs. As much I was enjoying the sensation on my knees, I hoped Ken would be done soon.

"You have some paint spots on your chin, too, sis." He formed his left hand into a shallow cup and let the hose fill it, then dipped in the first two fingers of his right hand and brought them to my chin. As before, he caressed my skin slowly and gently, circling his fingers over my chin before broadening his attention to my cheeks, my neck, my nose, my ears. Rather than bringing cool refreshment to my face, I could actually feel my temperature rising as his fingers explored.

He backed away from me and I watched his eyes travel down my body. His cock was still solid as steel. "I'm sorry to say, but your top's gonna have to come off."

A bolt of excitement coursed through me at the thought of revealing myself to him, knowing he wanted to see me topless. But then sanity took over. It was my brother! "What? No way."

"I appreciate your viewpoint, Amy, but the thing is, I have the hose, so I get to make the rules. And I say, your top must go."

"You're just getting back at me for making you take off your clothes."

"Keep in mind that I've seen you without a top before, many times. The bathtub, remember?" I cringed as he used my own words against me. He continued, "I think you have all the same parts you ever had."

I could have defended further, but Ken's screwed up logic and my repressed exhibitionist tendencies combined forces to overcome my resistance. "OK, OK. Here goes." I turned to face away from him and then lifted my jogbra out and over my tits, then up and over my head. I threw it over my head behind me, in his direction, and I heard it land in the grass.

"Very well done. Now turn around, sis."

I crossed my arms over my breasts before turning to face him again. "I'll need to just take a quick look and make sure you're completely clean. If you could move your arms?" As he said this, he stepped toward me and put a hand on my left arm, not forcefully, just enough to lend support for his request. With his hand still attached, I moved my arm down to my side and at last revealed a bare tit. I had never exposed myself to anyone outdoors before, and the feeling was surprisingly erotic.

"Mmm, gorgeous," he said. He let go of my arm and reached for my breast, letting his fingers dance across the skin. "I don't remember your breasts looking like this when we used to take a bath together." He used the same delicate touch as before, and the sensation was intense. His index finger circled around my nipple, then gently flicked back and forth across it, sending shivers through me and making my nipple firm as a pebble.

He reached for the other breast, and I moved my other arm without any prompting. I was in heaven. The sun, the soft touch of his fingers, the nudity outside--it was all turning me on so easily. I closed my eyes and luxuriated in the sensations. I felt my heartbeat racing, and my breaths were shallow and quick. I could tell my pussy was getting drenched on its own, even without the hose.

While I was focused on the feeling of Ken's finger coaxing my right nipple to hardness, I was suddenly shocked to feel his tongue on my left nipple. My eyes snapped open and I let out an involuntary chirp. The warm dampness of his tongue fluttered expertly around my tit, a feeling more intense than with his fingers. I idly wondered what that tongue would feel like on my clit, but then chastised myself for it. This was my brother!

His tongue fell away from my tit, and for a moment part of me was disappointed that he was going away so soon. He said, "Oo, Baby Amy, that tastes so sweet," and before I knew it, he switched, and his mouth was working on the other tit.

My whole family called me "Baby Amy" when I was little, because I'm the youngest. They still call me that sometimes to tick me off, but right then the nickname had a different connotation that wasn't offending me.

When he pulled away from me, he stepped back a half step. My eyes were drawn to his cock, as usual, and this time I noticed a fresh drop of precum on the tip. It was practically calling out to me, wanting me to lube him with it like I'd done before, but I contented myself to just watch. The precum must have meant that my tits were turning him on even more, and this only heightened my own arousal. I was just standing there, not doing anything to him, but he was getting excited just from the sensations of my body--the touch, the look, and, yes, the taste.

"You have a sensational body, you know?" he said. I didn't say anything, but I contorted my face a little, thinking about getting such a flattering compliment in such an unusual circumstance from someone I'd never have expected--my naked brother.

He again picked up the hose nozzle, which he'd apparently dropped while he was ravaging my tits. "Time for the shorts now."

I had a feeling this was coming, but still I wasn't prepared for it. I was so horny that I knew my panties would be soaked, and I didn't want Ken to think he was having this much of an effect on me. "Ken, I don't think that's such a good idea."

"I think it's a fine idea. One of the best I've had."

I instinctively crossed my arms over my tits again during this negotiation, and this caused a notable look of disappointment on his face. "No, not right now," I said.

"You have on underwear, don't you?"

"Yeah, but that's not the--"

"Don't tell me you're not comfortable letting a family member help you out in a time of embarrassment."

"No, I just think it's best if we--"

"And look--you actually do have some paint spatters on your pants, there." I followed his eyes down and saw a few tiny flecks of white. Nothing major, but these pants would probably have to go in the garbage after this.

"There is no way in hell I'm getting naked with you out here."

"Who said anything about getting naked? I'm just talking about those paint-spattered shorts."

"I have a sneaking suspicion about where you're headed."

"I'm not headed anywhere, just wanting to keep you from getting your painty clothes in the house."

"That's a load of bullshit."

"I tell you what. You take your shorts off, and I'll put the hose down. I promise. That'll be it."

I was still leery of letting him see my damp panties, but I thought the deal was probably too good to pass up. I also felt a jolt of excitement as I imagined myself wearing nothing but panties in front of Ken. "Promise?"

"Cross my heart." His cock was visibly pulsing up and down as he said this, and the precum was oozing slowly down the shaft. I wondered if you could make a binding agreement with a guy whose cock was in this state. Maybe making a promise with a boner was like making a promise with your fingers crossed.

I turned to face away from him again, unzipped my shorts, and stepped out of them, careful to keep my legs together.

I could practically feel his eyes burning into my ass. I was wearing black satin panties, cut bikini style, and I immediately wondered how well they were concealing my butt.

"You really need to wear this outfit around the house more often," he said. "That is the best-looking rear for miles around."

"That's as much as you're gonna see, buddy. Now drop the hose."

I heard a dull thud as he said, "K, I dropped it. You can turn around."

As I pivoted, I had my arms in tit-covering posture again, and I saw that his hand was idly playing with his cock, bending it first up and down, then back and forth.

He kneeled in front of me, putting his face about even with my belly button. He put his arms behind my legs and lightly caressed my calves and thighs, working his way up to my butt. His touch was evaporating my skittishness and reminding me how horny I was. His nose was pressed right against me, and I could feel his warm breath on my stomach. When both his hands were holding my ass, he softly and tenderly kissed my belly button, and I almost melted. Instead, I lost my balance, and I had to move a foot to stay upright. It splashed in the swampy grass when I set it back down.

He stood up and gestured for my hand. Without a word, I took my right hand away from my chest and gave it to him. He led me to a patch of dry grass, a few paces away from the swampland we'd created. He put his mouth against my ear and whispered, "Sit down for a minute." The words themselves almost disappeared under the feeling of his face so close to me, the warmth of his body and breath. He pulled my hand down, and I sat on the grass, legs straight out in front of me and squeezed together.

He kneeled beside me. "Amy, baby, you are so beautiful. I had no idea." His voice was different now, deeper, quieter, more sensual. He put a hand on the front of my leg, slowly massaging my thigh. He then used both hands on my legs, running them down as far as my knee before turning back, crossing my waist and going up my side, ending on the side of a tit. I don't know if it was subtle pressure from his hands, or if I did it on my own, but I laid back fully on the lawn, intensifying the sensations.

He scrambled around and flattened himself face down against my legs, holding himself up with his knees and elbows. I could feel the tip of his cock graze the sole of my left foot.

His nose dropped into the Y-shaped crease right where my panties disappeared between my legs. I instinctively held my legs together more tightly, but I heard him inhale deeply and watched his chest expand. "Mmmm," he said as he exhaled. He breathed in deeply again, and I closed my eyes, knowing he'd sniffed out my scent. I was glad he was enjoying it so much, and part of me wanted to pull my legs apart for him, but my good sense prevailed.

He kept breathing in my aroma, letting out soft moans with every breath. I was pleased with my resolve, keeping my pussy inaccessible even under practically overwhelming desire.

I was pleased until I felt his tongue dart into the center of the Y, right between my legs, up against my panties. "Oh god, Kenny, that feels so . . ."

He pulled his tongue back and plunged it in again, freshly dampened. I squeezed my legs together so tightly that my knees hurt, but still his tongue was easily able to penetrate that tiny spot. On every pass, his tongue reached far enough so that I could feel the sensation transmitted to my clit, inundating my body with showers of sparks.

In less than a minute, his tongue had the Y completely soaked, at least the part that hadn't already been soaked by my horny pussy. The sensation changed as my panties got more and more wet. What had felt like a soft grazing of my clit now felt like a lightning bolt, as though my panties had melted away completely. I hissed and oohed as the feeling overcame me, but every stroke of his tongue was more powerful than the one before. I was helpless, and he must have sensed it, because his tongue seemed only to get longer and stronger as he went.

My body was taking over, primal urges overwhelming my conscious decisions one by one. My head thrashed back and forth, tangling my hair in the grass, and I was alarmed to find my butt muscles flexing with his tongue, improving his reach. My hand involuntarily rose to find my nipple, quickly bringing it to full hardness. And, at last, I knew my internal struggle was lost when I felt my legs slowly separating, knees rising, presenting to my brother my hot, wet pussy, covered only with shiny black satin.

His tongue didn't even pause, but dipped down and stroked through the fabric the length of my pussy, from clit to ass and back again. The touch was beyond anything I'd felt before, and I was unable to resist a deep moan of delight. The black fabric was completely soaked, and I could feel hot liquid drizzling down past my asshole.