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The next day the weather was beautiful and we spent the day at the beach. Michael and I did all the silly games that teenagers do at the seaside, paddling in the sea, throwing a Frisbee around, digging pointless holes in the sand. As the afternoon wore on we both developed an urge to be alone. We never spoke but we knew what we wanted to do. Mum and Dad were semi-snoozing in the shade of our beach windbreak and we told them that we were going to go for a walk along the beach. Off we went, hand in hand, but when we were out of sight we put our arms around each other in a way that was much more than affectionate ‘brother-sister’.

We watched expressions on adults’ faces as they passed by. Some smiled, perhaps remembering their own teenage romances, others tut-tutted, obviously thinking we were far too young. If only they knew that we were brother and sister! The thrill of being so wicked was almost overwhelming. The beach was fairly crowded and we had to walk right to the far end before the people began to thin out. Then the beach itself ran out and we had to pick our way across dangerously sharp rocks to go any further. It was clear that only rock climbers, mountain goats and young lovers would bother to push on any further so that is precisely what we did.

After a 15-minute hike we came to a lovely secluded spot. It couldn’t be overlooked from the cliffs above and anyone else scrambling along the rocks would have made so much noise that we would easily have heard them. We could only have been seen by people on the boats way out to sea, and then only if they possessed binoculars powerful enough. We lay on the largest, flattest and smoothest rock we could find. We kissed passionately, hungrily tasting each other’s saliva as our tongues swirled together. Michael lay on his back and I lay over him, my legs spread wide. I felt the bulge in his swimming trunks grow harder and harder until he grimaced in pain.

“Get off, Jen!”

I obeyed and he reached down and undid his trunks, reaching inside to straighten and adjust his constricted penis. I touched it through the trunks, feeling how incredibly hard it was. Now it was my turn to give commands, “Michael, pull them down!”

He looked around us, double-checking that we could not be seen, and tugged them down to his knees. He lay back and his rigid penis pointed straight at his face, visibly bobbing up and down in time to his heartbeat. I reached out and touched him, gently caressing him with just the tips of my fingers. In seconds the clear juice began to seep from him, catching the sunlight and sparkling like diamonds. I wrapped my fingers around him, moved my hand slowly up and down the shaft, admiring the lovely strong curve, the mysterious thick swelling veins and above all the dark purple head that swelled larger and larger until it resembled a juicy ripe plum. It was so engorged I would have thought that he must have been in pain had his moans of pleasure as I caressed him not told me otherwise.

“How big is it?” I asked, as I slowly ran my fingertips up and down the shaft.

“Six and a half inches!” he announced proudly.

“Is that big?”

“None of the blokes at School is bigger.”

“You don’t compare them, do you?”

“Sometimes.”

I suddenly had a vision of dozens of erect penises, all in a row, with me walking along the line, ruler in hand. My crotch felt a rush of wetness.

“What do you call it, I mean do you and your friends call it a penis?” I asked.

“Loads of things, cock, prick, dick, that sort of thing.”

“What do you want me to call it?”

“Its up to you.”

“"I think cock sounds best, the others sound silly. What do the boys call a vagina?”

“I’m not saying all of them, they’re too rude.” I saw Michael start to blush.

“Go on, I’ve probably heard all the names anyway. I know cunt and pussy.”

“I don’t like... the first one - it sounds ugly. I suppose pussy is not too bad.”

My dear brother; he has never, to this day, been able to say ‘cunt’ in my presence.

“Well, cock and pussy will have to do then. Your cock is beautiful, Michael.”

He grinned up at me. I bet no one had ever said that to him before! I let go of him and his cock slapped against his belly, sending a drop of liquid shooting onto my stomach as I lay beside him. I wiped it with my finger, marvelling at the slippery feel. I touched him again and stroked down the shaft to his balls and he shivered and his stomach muscles tensed. I took my hand away.

“Isn’t that nice?”

“Yes, it is, its just... unusual. I’ve never been touched there before, Jen.”

I held his balls gently in my hand feeling the soft heavy weight of them. I knew how easy it was to hurt a boy’s balls and I touched them ever so gently. His hips were lifting involuntarily off the rock and I could tell that he wanted me to touch his cock. But I wanted more. I checked quickly for passers by and pulled off my bikini bottoms. The crotch was soaked. I knelt astride his thighs taking hold of his cock. I gripped him around the head and started to pull on him but he took my hand and showed me how to hold him just below the head. He lay back, groaning as my hand moved and I watched the sweat breaking out on his tautly muscled body. God, he was so beautiful! I felt my hips writhing, aching to find something for me to rub my pussy against; I considered shifting and rubbing against his thigh but it reminded me too much of our neighbour’s dog that would mount your leg given half a chance. I wriggled up his body and my pussy made its first contact with the thick base of Michael’s cock. The touch was electric for us both. His eyes shot open and he looked down – the look of horror on his face showed that he thought I was going to try and put him inside me.

“Jen, what are you doing?”

I let go of his cock and bent down and kissed him gently.

“It's alright, don't panic.”

I balanced delicately on my feet to save my knees from the hard rock and by swinging my hips to and fro I could slide my pussy up and down along at least four of his lovely six and a half inches. My pussy lips enveloped his shaft coating him with floods of my juice. He stared down between us.

“Oh God, Jen, that’s fantastic!”

“J-just keep watching for p-people,” I stammered, concentrating on my ecstasy as my swollen clit rubbed against him with every downward stroke. By now I was delirious with pure lust, the thrill in my crotch was almost unbearable and I ached to make contact with the tip of his cock – to envelop the head and swallow him deep inside me. I moved further up him, almost to the bulging head but he grabbed my hips, pushing me down and keeping me from being foolish. Damn those sex education lessons at school!

“Don’t, Jen, its too dangerous!”

Common sense prevailed and I made do with leaning forward over him, angling my clitoris for maximum contact. We seemed to know instinctively what the other wanted, sometimes he lay still and I moved on him and then I would pause and he would jerk his hips rapidly beneath me. I started to feel rhythmic waves of pleasure deep inside me, my leg muscles started to quiver uncontrollably and then Michael was grabbing my hips, painfully tight, pulling me down onto him as his hips bucked in a frenzy. His face was contorted.

“Jen, Jen!” he cried out and I looked down - just the head of his cock showed between us, hugely swollen. I knew he was very close; I lifted off him; his cock throbbed and erupted. I watched spellbound as a stream of semen emerged, thick, gleaming and pure white in the bright sunlight - time slowed down and I watched in slow motion as the long, rope-like finger emerged, heading straight for my face! I shut my eyes and threw my head back - too late! Thick drops spattered my forehead and my hair and as my head went back my neck and chin were warmly anointed. I opened my eyes and cautiously looked down; the next spurts were less energetic but poor Michael - his grimacing face was bedecked with numerous white pearls. I pressed my pussy down onto his shaft, his hips were still jerking like crazy and I watched spurt after spurt lacing across his chest and stomach. I thought it would never stop!

The look of agony on his face faded and he opened his eyes and looked at me, gasping for air. He saw the jewels on my face and in my hair and I watched his expression change from ecstasy to horror and then to laughter as he realised that we were both drenched with liberal quantities of his ‘liquid love’ as we later came to call it. I collapsed on him, shrieking with laughter, and we hugged and rolled about on the rock, not mud-wrestlers but sperm-wrestlers. The intoxicating smell of his semen filled my nostrils. Michael pinned me down and loomed over me and then his grin faded, I will probably never see a look of such pure love again - it would take a thousand books to begin to describe it.

My dear brother placed his mouth over mine and kissed me.

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