I woke up to find myself entwined in the limbs of two preteen girls. That might be some teen guy's horny dream, but in my case, it felt increasingly familiar.
I glanced over my sister Betsy's face to catch sight of Cousin Whitney's alarm clock, the red LEDs displaying the time as 2:16. The three of us had fallen asleep almost four hours before. That followed eating some of the best Chinese food I'd ever had delivered. (I allowed Whitney to receive the food dressed in her robe.) For dessert, I gave them each another of the Red Hot Lover pills. We then sat through two princess movies (the only kind Whitney was allowed to watch.) The whole time we remained dressed only in panties or boxers.
We hadn't moved past the kissing/cuddling phase. The girls felt comfortable doing that, just like their regular sleepovers. I was nervous about where to go next, not having any experience to rely on, and no father to give me the Talk.
Three things woke me up. First, I had a splitting headache. Second, my bladder felt ready to burst, and finally, loud giggling came from beyond the bathroom door. The frivolity wasn't a pair of 11 year-olds in bed with me, making their little girl snores. No, it was the older pair of sisters, supposedly adults, with their loud, perhaps drunken, laughter. Apparently, our mothers had made it home safely from wherever they had been.
While I waited, I thought about the Red Hot Lover pills. My suggestions directed the girls to do some off the wall things, but their inner feelings continued the action. It was like lighting the fuse and letting their preteen hormone-driven bodies explode. I couldn't wait for more experiences.
Finally, the other bathroom door slammed shut. Rising, I pressed my ear against our door. Hearing no sounds, I knocked, quietly at first so I didn't wake the younger girls. Getting no response, I repeated the knocking, a bit louder this time. Hearing no complaints, I opened the door a crack.
Except for a lonely nightlight, the bathroom was dark, a good sign. I wasn't ready to find either my mom or Aunt Sarah in there, possibly passed out on the floor. Verifying it unoccupied, I entered and quickly relieved myself.
With one problem solved, I turned to the medicine cabinet. Inside, boxes of bandages, bags of cotton balls, and bottles of cough syrup covered the shelves. In the dim light, I detected only one item that might help my headache and it came in another tin box, this one colored blue and silver. I made out the words 'head' and 'relief' on the label.
Seeing nothing else remotely helpful, I popped two light blue pills into my mouth. The effect was immediate. The scent of mint filled my sinuses and then invaded my brain. The sensation cascaded down my neck, across my arms, all the way to my fingertips. Not stopping there, it crawled down my chest, dividing at my hips, and flowing into my toes enough to curl them.
I felt a renewed vigor, an energy ready to take on the world. Strangely, my headache disappeared without even a hint of pain.
I walked through the door into my cousin's bedroom before realizing my boxers were tented. Majorly tented. It was like the best erection ever, but I couldn't share it with the girls. They were dead to the world. I decided to spend the rest of the night in the recliner in the television room.
Later, I'm not sure when, my boxers absorbed my copious fluid output. I hadn't manually encouraged such a reaction. My body, or perhaps my brain, did it all on its own. I blamed it all on the kissing.
Morning came way too quick. I barely got to sleep when a pair of scantily dressed girls ran through my thoughts. No matter what I tried, I chased, caught, and kissed the pair numerous times. Dreams had never been so tiring in the past.
I stumbled down the hall to Whitney's room. There my cousin was tying her school neckwear, putting the last touches on her school uniform. In her pressed white dress shirt, her plaid tie that matched her woolen plaid skirt, and white knee socks, Whitney had transformed back into the girl who collapsed sadly in the library the day before.
Well, almost. One thing was different. A pair of black rimmed glasses graced her face.
"What's with the specs?" I asked.
"Good morning to you, too," said Betsy from the bed.
"Good morning, girls." I paused a moment before asking, "Mind if I use the bathroom?"
Without an answer, I entered the next room. A minute later, my business done, I returned. "Whitney, I apologize."
"I know I look like a geeky cow," said Whitney flopping onto her bed.
"Look what you did," said Betsy. "You killed her."
"I really am sorry, Whitney." I held out my hand. In it I had a Red Hot Lover pill. My cousin took it and placed it on her tongue, before sighing.
I gave it a minute to take effect before I began to speak. "You look very nice. The uniform makes you look older, more mature."
"I am more mature." Her monotone had returned.
"I've always thought glasses make a girl look more intelligent. If you weren't my cousin, I'd … well, I'd date you."
"The glasses make me more intelligent."
"You are a beautiful woman, not a silly girl."
"A beautiful young woman."
"Do you believe in my view?"
"I wish I had the confidence to believe you. But I'm just the big geeky cow who follows all the rules and never does anything daring."
I thought for a moment. "Whitney, today you will be the most daring girl in your school."
"I will be daring."
"To prove it, take off your panties."
Whitney hesitated for a moment. "I will take them off." Then she reached under the skirt and slid her white panties down her legs. "I feel naughty."
"You will remain that way until you return home. You will squeeze your legs together every five minutes to remind yourself how daring you are. Now go to school."
The girl rose and gave me a kiss. "I love you, Chris." Then she headed out of the room.
I flipped a pill to Betsy. "Here's your reward."
She quietly ingested it. "Thank you," she said. "I'm going to get a few more winks,"
I decided to head downstairs to get some breakfast, glad during the whole time, no one mentioned my tented shorts.
The aroma of pumpkin bread hit my nostrils as I walked downstairs. In the kitchen, my mom pulled the freshly baked loaf from the oven. "Hello, dear," she said.
"Were you out too late last night, Mom?"
"Oh yeah. Sarah and I met up with some old friends. I guess we had a few too many margaritas. I've got a bit of a hangover."
"Try one of these." I opened the tin box and handed her a Red Hot Lover pill.
Mom popped it in her mouth. She had a reaction similar to the girls. "Oh boy, it tastes like cinnamon."
"How are you feeling now?" I asked.
She took in a deep breath. "Better. Much better."
"Mom, you will follow suggestions I make to you."
"I will follow your suggestions."
I smiled. I had her too. "You will ignore what the girls and I are wearing around the house. You will allow us to do anything we are doing together, ignoring us."
"I will leave you and the girls alone."
I smiled again. Thinking this might be too good, I pulled down my boxers. With my hard on pointing right at her, she glanced at it before saying, "That's beautiful, dear." She then returned to her baking.
With that test passed, I turned to leave. Then I thought of something. "Please give one of these to Aunt Sarah when she gets home."
"I will give her the pill."
Now I was confident everything was going my way.
Upstairs, I decided to take a shower. I had dried fluids all over me and felt funky. While I did so, Betsy woke. Having to relieve herself, she came into the bathroom. Her flush changed the water pressure, drenching me with hot water. I jumped out of the tub and ended up face to face with my sister.
"Whoa," I screamed. "Don't do that. At least warn me first."
She didn't reply, her eyes transfixed six inches below my navel. "Is that your…?" Her question got an answer, but not from my lips. "What's it doing?" she asked as my cock started to rise and point at her naked body.
"He's seeking out beauty," I answered.
"But I'm your sister."
I laughed. "He doesn't know that or really care. He wants to mate with the most perfect receptacle he can find. In this case, that is you." In the artificial light, I thought I caught my sister blushing. Changing the subject, I said, "We should go get breakfast."
"Okay." She turned toward the door, except for her eyes that remained fixed on me.
"Wait a second," I said as she blindly reached for the doorknob. "I had to wash my boxers. I would be embarrassed if you wore more than I did."
Her eyes met mine, just like a deer in headlights. "You mean…"
I gave her the sternest look I could muster. "Yesterday we made an agreement because of your clothes." She dropped her eyes in resignation. "Betsy, you will remove your panties until I can wear my boxers again."
"I will remove them." She turned away, giving one last view of her pink panty-clad butt. Slipping her fingers under the elastic, she tugged them down her legs and over her feet. When she turned back to me, her hands attempted to cover her private area.
"Move your hands to reveal yourself."
"I will remove my hands."
There she stood, wearing only her birthday suit. I took a second to study the newly exposed region. Perfectly devoid of hair. Not mature like pictures in those dirty magazines, but perhaps more pure and innocent.
"Take a towel with you," I said. "Real nudists always sit on a towel during meals."
"I will take a towel." She grabbed a hand towel from the bar. Ah, the luxury of a small butt.
I felt my heart race. Now I would find out if the pills really worked on my mother.
Downstairs, Mom was putting on her coat as we entered the kitchen. "Hello, kids," she said without giving us a second look. "I have to run out to get ingredients for tomorrow's dinner. I'll be back shortly. In the meantime, why don't you sit down and have some fresh pumpkin bread."
After Mom closed the door, Betsy looked at me. "Why didn't she say anything about our being naked?"
"I instructed her not to."
My sister thought for a moment. "Is that just while we're here or will it apply at home?"
I was a bit surprised at the question. Was my little sister wanting to go unclothed or perhaps just unnoticed beyond this week? "I don't really know," I answered truthfully. I wished the tin box came with more explanations.
Seconds later, the door opened again, causing us to jump. "Kids, while I'm out, can you do me a favor? Can you two go into the attic and replace the burned out bulbs up there? You can find new bulbs in the top of the pantry. And here's a new flashlight if you need it. I bought it yesterday."
"Sure, we can do that," I said. "Now get going."
"Bye." Mom blew us a kiss, something she hadn't done in years.
In houses built during the first part of the last century, unfinished attics provided extra space above the living quarters. The residents rarely accessed the upstairs. To save space, the house builders added a trapdoor with an attached ladder instead of a permanent staircase. The Pike Homestead had such an arrangement.
After Mom left, Betsy and I put on our shoes and headed to the second floor. We might be walking around nude, but no way would I explore the dusty attic barefoot.
We stood in the hall between the television room and the master bedroom, staring at the ceiling. "Are you sure that door leads to the attic?" she asked.
"Yeah, that's it. What we need is a tool shaped like a long pole to unlock the door. I don't see it here in the hall. Let's look around."
Betsy let out a huge sigh. "I'm getting tired of everything we do being a scavenger hunt."
"Just guard the new light bulbs and I'll find it."
"Guard light bulbs." My sister looked adorable standing there. I'd do anything for her.
Ducking into the television room, I scanned the place. Fortunately, I caught sight of the tool hiding between two bookcases. When I returned, Betsy cheered. Since I was near my dirty clothes, I had grabbed the red tin box. From it I gave my sister another pill as a reward for her patience.
Standing under the trapdoor, I examined my find. The pole connected two different tools, one on each end. The first consisted of an iron sleeve topped by a disk with a square hole in the middle. The other end had a three prong hook. With any luck, that was all we needed.
In the ceiling, we spied a round receptacle with a square bolt. Pushing up and turning with the first end of the pole connected would lock or unlock the trapdoor. That was the theory. It took a few minutes of unsuccessful couplings to get the unwieldy pole to mate with the receptacle.
Betsy stood there, giggling. "I hope you're better with YOUR pole when a pussy is the target."
"Ha, ha." Unconsciously, my eyes darted to her exposed slit. We have things to do, I tried to tell myself. Even so, I pointed at her as a target with my latest erection.
Shaking it off, I kept trying until I finally captured the bolt. I pushed up and turned, just like a child-proof cap on a medicine bottle. My first try went nowhere. I worried that the mechanism might be stuck. Then I twisted the pole in the opposite direction. That time the pole turned easier than I anticipated.
With the lock released, the trapdoor tipped downward about eight inches. "Look out," I yelled while Betsy screamed. I dropped the pole and covered my privates. My sister, more sensible assumed a duck and cover pose.
Aside from some dust falling through the freshly opened cracks above, and the loose pole rolling around, nothing happened.
I retrieved the pole, flipping it over for the next step. Using the hook, I grabbed the handle on the exposed edge of the door. With it, I pulled the trapdoor down as far as I could. That allows the sectioned ladder attached to the door to be flipped down to reach the ground.
"How did you know how to do that?" asked an amazed girl.
"When we were here for the last visit, Grandpa Chris started to take me on a tour. We got interrupted before we could go up."
"Ready to explore?"
I nodded my head. Here we go again.
I always thought my sister had a bit of monkey in her. She loved climbing on ladders and jungle gyms, even more than most of my friends. I gave her the flashlight and sent her into the attic first.
My ulterior motive was to watch her ascent. Though I had seen her climb for years, never once was she naked. Betsy must have sensed my fantasy. She went up the first four steps with no problem. Beginning on the fifth, she paused on each, faking problems just so I had to watch her. She flexed her muscles to give me quite the show.
I would kiss her if I weren't mesmerized. However, time was passing. "Get up there," I said, "before Mom gets back."
"Party pooper," she replied while shaking her naked ass at me. With that, she zipped up the ladder and disappeared into the dark.
I followed my sister up the ladder, my hands filled with new light bulbs. As I entered the attic, she pulled a cord, and the dark space lit up. Well, it brightened as much as one bulb could make it.
"Good job," I said.
"Thanks, Chris. I guess I'm done then."
I cleared my throat and motioned her to come. "Kiss me."
"Kiss you," she said. Standing on her tippy toes, Betsy put her arms around my neck and pulled herself up. Our lips locked as our bodies, totally naked above the ankles for the first time, pressed together. I reached behind her, my fingers locating her butt cheeks. Running them into the crack, I touched her back opening. Sensitive as it was, she jumped.
"Oh, Chris," she said breathlessly.
"Not yet, little one. Let's get the other lights."
She released her grip on my neck. "All right."
"Watch your step."
"I will." She flipped the flashlight on and walked away.
I located a stepstool and placed it under the lit bulb. I decided to replace the old one with a new energy-efficient bulb Mom supplied. Up I climbed and twisted it off. That plunged the room into darkness.
Betsy screamed. "You scared me."
"Just do your task."
I exchanged bulbs, and the room glowed a slightly different color. If anything, the new light made it look more ghostly.
As I climbed down, I heard a pop, and my sister screamed again. "I'm all right. I hate it when bulbs burn out. BTW, this one needs to be replaced. Come on, quick like a bunny."
We spent a while changing the other six bulbs attached to the roof. The combined light started to make the area more like an office building and less like a warm friendly space it used to be. All to save a little energy.
With our task completed, we started to examine the attic contents. Grandpa Chris had assembled a ton o metal shelving units that partitioned the attic into a maze. Boxes filled the shelves, making it hard to see from one spot to another.
We located the family Christmas decorations, two artificial trees in boxes, magazines encased in plastic, books, candles, and a bunch of bells. Granny's craft supplies took up three units by themselves. Dust covered almost every inch. I was just glad not to find any mice or squirrels.
Among the storage, we found a special area. Set aside behind two shelves and adjacent to a back window, a thick beige rug defined a small space. On the carpet, a faded green recliner, a light pink futon, and two steamer trunks formed the boundaries. A six foot tall standing lamp overlooked the chair. The bordering shelves held several woolen blankets and towels.
"I wonder what this was," said Betsy.
"I believe Grandpa Chris called it his private sanctuary."
"How do you know?"
"Ah, he showed it to me years ago."
My sister screwed up her face. "You just told me you didn't make it up here. You were interrupted."
"I was, that time. But another time, he brought me up here. I think it was years earlier, maybe when I was 7 or 8."
"Where was I?"
"Search me. Mom probably took you and Granny out for lunch and shopping. I can't remember much about it."
"Oh." I hoped she'd let the subject drop. Instead, she reached to change the light bulb.
"Not yet," I said. "Let's leave that one the way it was. Just for Grandpa Chris."
"Okay."
While Betsy took a seat on the futon, I swung open one of the trunks. Each side had a column of drawers. I decided to snoop.
The top drawer contained two stacks of magazines. Some were packed singly in plastic bags while a few were loose. I examined one of the loose ones, flipping through the pages. I recognized the title, Playboy.
"Whatcha find?" asked Betsy.
"Grandpa's stash of Playboys." That dirty old man.
"Can I see?"
"You're too young."
"Am not," she said, stamping her foot. "Besides, I just want to see what I have to look forward to."
I rolled my eyes and gave her the one in my hand. "Be careful with it. We have to put it back like we found it."
She tipped her head and screwed up her eyes. "Why?"
"What do you mean?" I asked back.
"I mean, Grandpa Chris isn't coming back, so he doesn't care. Granny probably doesn't know about them, and moved away, so she doesn't care. Mom and Aunt Sarah won't care. Nobody will care."
"I will. They might be worth money someday."
"Aren't there like millions of these out there?"
She was starting to make sense. Thinking for a second, "I said, "Yeah, but the other ones probably have cum stains all over them."
"What's cum?"
I guess I should have thought more before I spoke. "Just…just read the magazine."
Ignoring my sister, I flipped through the other ones in the drawer. More of the same. After closing that drawer, I opened the second. More magazines, only these weren't bunny material.
"What are those?" asked my sister.
"I think they're nudist publications."
"Was Grandpa Chris a nudist?"
I shrugged my shoulders. Thumbing through the magazine, I saw most featured family pictures. Teens and parents, and even some grandparents. Toward the bottom I discovered a few with younger teens and even preteens.
"She's no older than me," said Betsy, now standing next to me.
"Yeah," I agreed, quickly closing the drawer. "Don't mention those to anyone."
"Okay."
The other two drawers had more folders containing loose pictures. I decided to skip those also. Shifting my attention to the right half, I opened the top drawer. To my surprise it contained a single tin box. Black with white lettering, its label said, "Dr. Mac's Liq-o-rish pills." On the underside, that label read, "For Oral Pleasure" along with "Guaranteed satisfaction for guys and dolls."
I sniffed the package, the aroma extremely pungent and unusually strong.
Seeing no warnings, I opened it to find dozens of black pills inside. I placed one on my tongue. Definitely licorice flavored. It started my saliva glands flowing and sparked a craving for something more.
"Can I have one?" asked Betsy.
"Sure, but just one." She took one and began to suck on it.
Meanwhile, my legs felt rubbery, and I fell into the recliner. Glancing at my knees, I noticed the stains in the seat between my legs, spoiling the material. I watched as my sister ended up kneeling at my feet. My head spun a bit, then I realized the scene triggered memories from a similar situation years ago. Only that time, I knelt while Grandpa Chris sat in his recliner.
"How are you feeling, my boy?" The old man stared into my eyes. "This won't hurt either of us. You'll even enjoy it. Trust me."
"Yes, Grandpa Chris," I said in an unreal voice. The only thing I could hear was the beating of my heart. And the smell of licorice.
The man unzipped his fly and unbuttoned his pants. With a quick tug, he was bottomless.
I stared at his pole, sticking upward from his lap. It was so much bigger than mine, deep red or even purple in color. Throbbing.
"It's just like a popsicle. Just listen to your instincts."
I leaned forward, my mouth opening and my tongue inching out. I grew closer until…
I felt something slimy on my cock. Shaking my head to wake up, I looked down, catching sight of my sister between my legs. Her mouth opened to reveal her black tongue approaching my erect member. A black tongue? I shook my head again, but it didn't change.
I felt the contact. Licks here and there, to and fro, sideways, lengthwise, widthwise, longwise, shortwise, licks of long duration, some even shorter. Her mouth covered the end before departing for the base, and then back again. She attacked my balls, gentler than an angel's breath.
My cock disappeared into her mouth little by little, It touched tissue, but never a tooth. When it reached the back, I felt a sympathy pain from years before, suppressed all this time.
My body reacted by rushing fluids toward the point of pleasure. I couldn't warn her before I began to squirt. I watched it strike her face, from her hairline to her chin.
Seconds later, it was over. Both of us seemed spent by the encounter. Not that I did much. I reached down and pulled Betsy into my lap, holding her close to my body.
We would have fallen asleep in each other's arm if we didn't hear a "Hmm. Hmm."
I looked over to see Cousin Whitney, standing at the entrance to the sanctuary in her school uniform. "If you two are done, Aunt Norah sent me up to get you for lunch."