voyeuristic sister

She knew for certain there would be a surprised reaction from her little brother, as she gained the courage to push open his bedroom door and reveal her voyeuristic self; but nothing prepared her for the startling yelp that leapt forth from the very core of his being when she did just that. Nor was she even remotely prepared her for the sight that followed. It was as if he had tried to jump up, but became immediately paralyzed by the moment of his orgasm: his young body all-at-once tensing and jerking up to a position of mid-crunch— eyes wide— shocked and in utter panic to be so suddenly and helplessly exposed by his sister. Instinctively, he tried to clamp down on his little dick as hard as he could, but it proved to be too late; and the timing of being caught at that precise moment was simply too much. His howl, or bark, or yell (or whatever it was) startled both of them. And no sooner had the sound erupted from his lungs than he became frozen and muted in that position as well— bug-eyed and mouth open, agog in disbelief of her throwing open the door— and then he came. All over his sheets. His cum, profoundly and soundly hitting the pillow beside his head. She had no idea! It was a tremendous sight: the cum that shot out of his jerked-to-pink penis, arcing in a series of long roping ribbons that shot over and past his young torso, over and past his shoulder, to splatter audibly on his pillow— *splat, splat, splatter, splatter*— for a moment (both of them) frozen in time, with his cum-spewing little cock uncontrollably shooting its white stuff five or six times, and then it was over.

Well, almost over, of course. Unclenched from his orgasm nearly as quickly as it had seized him, next came the mad scramble for him to cover his blatantly exposed, cum-drooling little penis with something. The closest thing he had at hand was his underwear— a pair of boys’ white briefs discarded casually on the bed beside him— and his sister couldn’t help but (unsuccessfully) suppress a little giggle as she witnessed the comical action of him snatching for such a pathetic piece of cover up. He did, however, next manage to grab the tangle of covers at the foot of his bed and was able to at least get them above his hips. And this time there was no mistaking what he uttered:

“What the HELL are you doing?!!!” he screamed at her. “Get the fuck outta’ HERE!!!” he screeched.

And his shouting was indeed enough to make her tuck tail and run. Bounding down the hallway, before she even made it to her room, she heard his door slam behind her.

It hadn’t gone at all like she had imagined. She had suspected that he would be shocked and probably shout at her; but she had no idea he would immediately start spurting cum from his penis through the air like that! … She had rehearsed in her mind that she would say something like, “don’t stop on my account”— as minutes before she had been spying on him through a door only slightly ajar, gripping her own heated crotch through the tightness of her jeans and basically feeling herself up; her other hand up her baby t-shirt, groping and moving alternately from one small tit to the other, as she stood outside his door and rocked her little body against her hands. She had expected a confrontation, but somehow thought she would persuade him to keep going so she could get an up-close and personal look at his private little jerk off session.

Whether she truly knew it for herself or not at that moment, she would have been fully prepared and ready to drop her jeans and panties and show her little brother the shape of her own virginal sex— such was the nature of her intense curiosity as she continued to explore and discover her developing sexuality. She was kind of amazed by the fact that her little brother, two years her junior, would already have such a member between his legs (as it wasn’t exactly “little”) and that he would no less be stroking it to such a full-on cum, and— oh my god, the sudden replay of him tensing-up and cumming like that!

In a way, it felt more like she had just been busted. And in a way it was true. How long had she been standing at his door? Her heart was beating a million miles an hour. Behind her own door now, she could hear it throbbing in her ears, and she could see her chest pounding through her thin t-shirt. She listened intensely to hear him make some noise, any noise, from the other end of the hallway— but nothing. She stole a glance at herself in her dresser mirror. It almost embarrassed her. She was glossy with sweat. Her mousey brown hair was a bit of a mess, and her mouth was still hanging open from the stupefying moment of having just witnessed her naked little brother spewing such a remarkable fountain of cum. She had made him cum. A loop tape was playing in her mind, and it just kept playing the scene of her young brother, cinching-up, and shooting those five incredible blasts of jetting cum from his penis over and over again. She looked at her mouth. It was wet and pouty-looking. She shuddered. *Splat, splat, splat, splat, splat*— she could still hear his load hitting the pillow, as if in rhythm with her pounding heart.

Her legs were weak, and her mind was racing beyond any coherent tangible thought. Standing in front of her mirror, she noticed how distinctly her erect little nipples were poking through her t-shirt, and she felt the urge to strip her shirt off for a better look. Did she hear him coming down the hallway?— no. Taking her shirt off over her head, her tiny A-cup titties pointed back at her proudly from the mirror. She immediately cupped them with her hands. They had no bounce to them, but she could certainly make them jiggle a little if she shook her shoulders back and forth, or otherwise spanked at them with the flat of her fingers.