Crazy Erotica – My Brother’s Handjob

by Jenelle J. Watson

Until just a few days after my 18th birthday, I was totally asleep down in the vaginal area. Somehow, I had gone through my entire childhood without interest or knowledge of sex. I was a great student, but not very sociable, I’m afraid. From as early as I could remember, I have wanted to be a psychologist. Paying for that education would be a problem I refused to acknowledge until it was almost too late.

It was giving my twin brother what you might call a ‘handjob’ that changed everything for me. I’ll tell you all about that in just a second. First, I probably ought to tell you something about me, and about him.

I’m Jenelle Pfeiffer. My brother, a paternal twin, is Zachary Pfeiffer. ‘Paternal’ means he doesn’t look like me. He is sort of tall, at 5’11” and has light blond hair. His hair is so light it almost looks white. And to go with that hair, his blue eyes sparkle like a clear sky. He is remarkably athletic. Even I, his sister, have always enjoyed seeing him naked, with his well-defined muscles under a light coat of sweat.

I’ve seen him that way often. While you wouldn’t call my family ‘nudists,’ my parents have never been prudes about clothing.

DId I say Zack and I look different? Well, I’m 5’3″ tall, fat, and not very pretty. I’m sure you can imagine my shape: I’m always 20 pounds overweight, and have no breasts. Well, OK, I have little breasts. They don’t sag like they should. They’re just little piles on my chest, ending in small, pink nipples. I guess you could say I’m blonde like Zack, but nothing like Zack. My so-called blonde hair is on the darker side of blonde, almost brunette. It is long and straight, going almost half-way down my back, The one thing I have going for me, besides sparkly blue eyes, is what people have called a ‘winning’ smile. I do tend to smile a lot. Maybe too much. Anyway…

So, here I was in my last year of high school, thinking, dreaming, loving the idea of becoming a psychologist, yet I hadn’t solved the money thing yet. I was a good student, and I did qualify for a couple of small scholarships, but with living expenses, books and materials and everything that goes with a college life, I didn’t have anywhere near what I’d need. I was hoping to avoid the student loan situation. Plus, with no credit, I’d need my parents to co-sign, and their credit was in the toilet.

School ended. I was a high-school graduate. Big deal! As summer began, all I had was an interest in psychology, but no means to get there. Every day, I was thinking about what to do in the daytime, and literally crying myself to sleep at night. I was imagining scenarios from waiting tables for my entire adult life, to becoming a bag lady.

So, that was my situation. My brother was a bit better off. He had a full-ride tennis scholarship, and was headed off to a college in Ohio in two months. He wanted to be a police officer, and I was sure he’d get there with no obstruction whatsoever. I mean, he’s like that. Everything has come easy to Zack. Except one thing. Something that I totally didn’t see coming until the fourth day of summer vacation.

My mom had made appointments for us with the family doctor, Jane Mitchell, a family friend. More than a friend. She has helped our family out of financial binds more than once. We were scheduled for routine checkups. No biggie. I can’t say I was looking forward to mine, but I wasn’t worried either. Just bothered, because checkups can be so personal, and some tests kind of hurt, as I’m sure you know.

At ten o’clock, I arrived at Dr. Jane’s office. Her nurse weighted me. Yup, I was still twenty pounds overweight. She took a blood sample, and checked my eyes, nose, and throat. She then had me put on a gown and wait for Dr. Jane to step in.

Dr. Jane is a 50-ish gray-haired, happily married, no-nonsense woman who makes me feel good because she’s a bit fatter than me. She greeted my with a smile and a bit of chit-chat about our families. She then did all the things you’d expect, repeating some of the tests her nurse had performed a few minutes earlier. Jane then announced something I didn’t expect.

She said, “You’re a woman now. You haven’t had a gynecological exam, and it’s time we do a little check to make sure you’re OK in all ways.”

I was immediately kind of weirded out. It was like a combination of ‘will it hurt?’ and ‘geez I don’t know how to feel about anyone looking that closely at me down there.’

Before I could really react in any way, she gently pushed me backward, indicating I should lay down on the table, and brought these feet holding things she called ‘stirrups’ around the edges of the table, placing one foot in each one. She also, fortunately, reassured me, saying “You won’t feel much of anything, and nothing about this is going to hurt.” I’m glad she told me, and it’s a good thing they already took my blood pressure, because it was getting ready to shoot through the roof.

She pushed my gown up, and now she was looking right at my vagina. If I hadn’t come from a family where nudity was OK, I could imagine I’d be quite upset about this.

Now, here’s where it gets interesting: With my legs spread wide, she reached forward, between my legs, and was sort of brushing the hair away from the center of my vagina for a moment. What surprised me was how that felt. It felt wonderful! I can’t really explain it, but I found myself feeling loved, cared for. And something more, a kind of tingle in my groin.

I don’t know exactly what she did next, because I couldn’t see it, but she seems to have spread my inner labia apart, I think with her gloved fingertips. She said, almost to herself, “Oh, you’re still a virgin.”

I asked what that meant. She explained that my hymen, what I have since learned is a membrane over the opening of the vagina, was mostly intact. She went on to say that many young women who are still technically virgins do not have intact hymens because of sports, minor accidents, or various forms of masturbation. I think my face turned red at that point. Oh, I hadn’t really masturbated much at that point in my life, but I kind of fooled around a bit, and knew what it was. I hadn’t even experienced an orgasm yet. Somehow, her looking intently at my vagina, and discovering something about my sex life, or actually lack-of-sex life, sent a pleasant little shiver through me. ‘Hmmm, I’ll have to ponder the psychological implications of that,’ I was thinking.

She said that the hymen was sufficiently open to place a finger through, but not a speculum. She then proceeded to do just that, evidently feeling around inside my vagina. Talk about shivers. That felt amazing! I wanted this delightful woman to keep doing that forever. Oh, in retrospect, I don’t think it was anything sexual, or that I was somehow attracted to her. It just felt fucking great!

But, it ended all to soon. She finished off by kind of spreading my butt cheeks a bit, and looking at my asshole. Another remarkable shiver went through me. I also felt a drop of wetness work its way out of my vagina and down around my anus. I thought at the time that perhaps her exam had caused me to release a drop of urine.

After the exam, she announced that I seemed to be in perfect health. That’s pretty much what I was expecting, and hadn’t been worried about anything. I did ask Jane about my weight, and she surprised me. I was kind of expecting a lecture about eating better, which I got. Basically, she said “Eat less sugar.” I also got, “Don’t spend even a minute worrying about that, Jenelle. You’re not very overweight, and I believe it will never be a significant issue for you.”

Wow! I like Dr. Jane.

Zack’s appointment was at 2 o’clock the same day. When he came back, he looked a bit weird. He and I are very close. I mean, we pretty much never argue, we like doing things together, and have had many excellent conversations. Any girl could be so lucky as to have such a great brother. But he looked kind of subdued, and I was immediately worried. Was there something wrong with his health?

So, I came right out and asked him. He wouldn’t tell me, and that made me even more worried. He usually tells me everything.

When my mom came home from work, I asked her, and she said it was a ‘private matter.’ Now, I was starting to freak out.

My dad came in around midnight. I woke when I heard him clunking around, and knew he was in his usual drunken state. I’m glad he’s what you’d call a ‘happy drunk’, but it is very unfortunate that he can’t get good work or even a job that lasts for more than a few weeks. I went downstairs and asked him about Zack, and he said he didn’t know anything about it. And, I’m sure that was true. Back up in bed, it took me a long while to get to sleep. I was really starting to worry.

A couple of days passed, and I didn’t find out anything. I asked Zack directly a couple more times, and he wouldn’t say anything, even seeming annoyed by my questioning. I also noticed that I hadn’t seen him naked since his visit with Dr. Jane. I mean usually, on the way to or from the bathroom, or passing his bedroom, I glimpse him with nothing on. And he sees me the same way. And in our family, that’s totally normal. I have since learned that’s not normal in many families. Too bad. It seems to me that the fanatical requirement to wear textiles is sort of limiting in many ways.

On the plus side, a couple of days later, Zack brightened up again. Whatever had gotten him down seemed to have become less concerning. So my worry was evolving into curiosity. What could have been the matter?

We had an unusual dinner because my dad was there. All four of us at dinner! Like old times, and it was nice. At one point, my mom asked Zack whether he had started on the exercises. I was like “What?” What could she be talking about? So I asked, again.

Zack said, “Jenny, this has been tearing me apart. The first time I’ve ever kept a secret from you. OK, I can’t keep it any longer. Even though it is embarrassing, here goes…”

Dad interrupted. This is the father I love, even though his happy-go-lucky attitude has cost our family everything. When we were young, he was a professor of herpetology. He took us on his hikes and camping trips looking for snakes and lizards. And we loved those times. But then he lost his driver’s license, and then his job at the university. He lost it all to alcoholism. Now, sometimes, he gets the menial jobs. Recently, he was bagging groceries at Safeway, but then, he managed to lose that job, too.

“Zack, do you really want to talk about that at the dinner table?”

So, Dad knew too – whatever it was that was up with Zack. It seemed everyone knew but me.

“Yes Dad, I think Jenny should know, don’t you agree?”

“Sure, I guess so.”

So Zack told me. It turned to be the weirdest thing I’ve ever heard up to that point in my life. When he went to see Dr. Jane, she did her usual exam, but instead of the gynecological checkup I got, he had his balls checked and then his penis. She asked him about his foreskin. Can he retract it properly?

Now, at this point in my life, I wasn’t even sure I really knew what a foreskin was. Oh, I had seen some stuff on the Internet, but never really paid any attention to it. I was always interested in psychology, and all that porn and sexual stuff was so uninteresting to me, that I totally ignored it. Of course I had seen Zack’s penis, but never paid much attention to that, either. Oh, I admired his body, his muscles, his smooth skin, but his penis was almost non-existent in my mind. It was just a part of him. I didn’t even know what ‘retracting a foreskin’ might be about.

He told her it hurt him a bit to jerk off.

Now in our family, not only was nudism at home OK, but so was frank discussion. I knew, sort of, what jerking off was. I kind of understood what an orgasm was. I mean, I was going to be a psychologist, after all, so of course I’d have to know something about orgasms. And, I knew than boys liked to induce orgasms by masturbating, and somewhere I had picked up the term ‘jerking off.’ But I didn’t really know anything about how it was done. Face it, I didn’t really know anything about masturbation at all.

Dr. Jane then said that it could be a problem as he started dating. I still didn’t understand what was going on, but listened with rapt attention. This was just too weird!

The good doctor then asked my brother to get an erection for her, so she could see the extent of the problem. Zack said she told him it was called “phimosis.” That strange word is the inability of a foreskin to retract sufficiently to have sex. Evidently, this phimosis is rather common in young men.

Suddenly, my mom and dad were glued to Zack, as was I.

“She asked you to get an erection?” Mom interjected.

“Yes, and I have to say, I was pretty weirded out about that.”

“So what did you do?” Dad asked.

“What do you think, Dad?” Zack responded, momentarily annoyed.

“Well, I don’t know!”

“What choice did I have? She had to see. And, I have to tell you, I was relieved that she was dealing with my little problem. I’ve kind of known that I’ve had this problem for a while but hoped it might just go away or something. When the other guys talk about wanking all the time, I kind of get the idea they really enjoy it. But for me, the times I’ve tried it, it’s not a pleasure at all. It starts hurting. I mean, every time I get an erection, it starts aching, or maybe more like a combination of aching and stinging, after a just a minute or so. I mean, the skin is too tight, and it kind of hurts. Oh, it doesn’t hurt terribly. Just a little. But then when I try to jerk off, it hurts too much.”

I noticed that poor Zack had turned all red in the face, and was slightly stammering as he spoke. Almost as if he was about to cry. This was evidently a very big deal for him.

“Oh, Zacky!” Mom said.

Prompted by a gesture from Dad, Zack went on. “So, I tried to get an erection, but couldn’t, knowing that it was going to hurt. Not only that, but I felt really weird doing that in front of Doctor Jane.”

“Yup, I can certainly understand that!” Dad said.

“Doctor Jane offered to help. She said there was a drug called Caverject she could stick in my penis with a needle, or she could do it manually. I was like, ‘Manually certainly sounds better.’ I was pretty sure an injection in my penis was not the best choice. She had me lay down on the table, with my shorts still off, and took off her gloves. She popped into the bathroom for a moment, and came back with a single sheet of toilet paper. I was kind of wondering what she had in mind. She then gently grabbed my penis with one hand, just lifting it off my stomach a bit, and with the other, she dangled the sheet of paper over it, so a corner was just slightly brushing the underside of my foreskin. It had an interesting effect, I’ll tell you that!

“Hmmm?” we all said in unison.

“I’m going to have to tell you, that it felt remarkable. My dick, penis I mean (with a glance at Dad, as if he said a ‘naughty’ word when he shouldn’t have), kind of jumped. It was like an electric tickle. That’s the best I can explain it. She did it several more times, and sure enough my dick, um, penis, became erect. And just hurt a little bit. I barely noticed. I was much more interested in noticing how nice it felt, this business of having an erection in Doctor Jane’s hands. She then pulled my foreskin back a bit. Ouch!”

He said that last bit loud, and we all jumped an inch.

“So, you’re going to need a circumcision?”

“Yup, that’s exactly what I thought. In fact, that’s why I never brought it up before. I did kind of know I had a problem. I noticed it when I was around 12, but didn’t pay much attention back then. So, I was all scared, because, well, I have to admit, surgery on my penis would totally not be what I want.

“But, there is an alternative. She said I can do some stretching exercises. She basically said if I stretch the foreskin every day, it will loosen sufficiently. She told me I can do the exercises, and I probably won’t need a circumcision. Or, forget the exercises, and just go for the circumcision. Geez, she was all ready to schedule surgery! I think you can figure out which I choose!”

“So when are you going to start?” Dad asked.

“Today, right after dinner.”

That was the end of our conversation about that. I was relieved as we moved onto a silly intellectual puzzle my dad presented. Now, I knew there was nothing life-threatening going on with my brother.

The next two days came and went, although somehow, I couldn’t get the picture of the doctor handling Zack’s hard penis out of my mind. Except it wasn’t quite a picture, because I hadn’t ever seen Zack with a hardon. Oh, I’d seen him nude plenty of times, but never with an erection. Come to think of it, I had never seen anyone with an erection.

We were at dinner again. This time, it was more typical. Only Zack, Mom, and I were there. My dad, as usual, well, we didn’t know where he was. Probably in his favorite pub. It was nice to have Mom at home for a change. She, too, frequently missed dinner, but that’s because she was working two jobs, one of which was evening hours.

Mom casually asked Zack whether he had done the exercises. He sheepishly admitted that he hadn’t.

“What about ‘Right after dinner?’ That’s what you said the other day.”

“I know, I guess I got distracted.”

The next evening, as Mom was getting ready to go back to work, she asked Zack again. And again, he hadn’t done the exercises.

“Zacky!” she said in an exasperated tone. “Do you really want a circumcision?”

Now, I know my brother. So does my mom. I mean, she raised him. And, although we love him, and he is great in so many ways, he does tend to be a procrastinator. So Mom took action. That’s her way. She does things that need doing, and she does them without delay.

We cleared the dishes, and she told Zack to lay down on the sofa. So, he laid down on the sofa.

“I mean take your shorts off, then lay down.”

“Really, Mom?” he asked in a hesitant tone.

“Yes, now! Jenny, you get in here too, I want you to see this.” I don’t know why she wanted me to see it. Maybe in case I’d have a son someday with the same problem. I guessed it was probably hereditary.

So he pulled his shorts and underwear off, and laid down. No one seemed to mind that I was witnessing the whole thing. And, boy, was I witnessing! You couldn’t have dragged me out of the room with a tow truck, because I kind of imagined what she was intending. The very thought of it, gave me an interesting tingle between the legs.

I really looked at his penis for the first time in my life. It seemed fine to me, but then, what did I know? Mom knelt down next to the sofa, and hesitantly reached for my brother’s penis. I noticed his face was a bit red, and he was sort of holding his breath.

She held it lightly, and let it go after just a few seconds. I was concerned that she was just going to examine it, and that would be that. Show over.

But no, she said, half to herself, “It’s going to have to be erect for this exercise to do any good.” Then to both Zack and me, “Understand, this is clinical. This is something that needs to be done. That’s all.”

She then asked Zack exactly what the doctor did. He told her about the sheet of toilet paper. So, she sent me into the bathroom to get some toilet paper. I brought back a whole roll. She tore off a sheet, and dangled it by the corner, just above Zack’s penis, and waved it around, slowly lowering it until it was just barely touching.

I saw what seemed a miracle happen. While I understood the process of erection, I had never actually seen it. I know now, that erections are all over the Internet, but never took the time to watch any of the videos, or even really look at any close-ups of an erect penis. In just a minute or two, Zack’s penis started to rise up off his belly. It went from a sort of small curled c-shape with a point of bunched up skin on the end, to a straight, long, fatter thing with a point of bunched up skin on the end. To say I was intrigued would be a terrible understatement.

“OK,” she said with a sigh of relief. I’m thinking Mom was a bit reluctant, or maybe kind of geeked out about the whole thing. There was her young son, having a sexual response to her physical attention.

She put down the toilet paper, and simply grabbed his erect penis with one hand. She then pulled down on the foreskin, and he practically shrieked, “Woah, ouch, stop!”

She dropped his penis like a hot potato. She then tried again, obviously more gently. After a minute or two, she found out how much she could stretch the foreskin without hurting him too much. She explained that it would have to hurt just a bit, in order to be effective. She held it for ten seconds or so, then let go. She did it about five times in a row, and proclaimed the exercise done.

That’s when she floored me by saying, “Jenny, it has become obvious that Zack won’t do the exercises by himself. And I’m always at work. I want you to promise me to do this for him, just like I did it. And, I want you to do it every single afternoon. Never miss an afternoon. Promise?”

“Oh, Mom, I’ll do the exercises.” Zack said.

“No Zack, you’ll forget sometimes. But the main thing is you won’t do it hard enough. People are reluctant to hurt themselves. But Jenny will be able to stretch just a bit harder than you’ll do to yourself. Right Jenny?”

This time it was my turn to say, “Oh, Mom!”

“Don’t mess around with me, young lady!” she said, but with a bit of a twinkle in her eye. She never actually yells at us, or bosses us around. She doesn’t need to.

The very next afternoon, at 4pm as we arranged, I met Zack on the sofa. He was like, “Do we really have to do this? You know I can do it myself.”

“I promised Mom.” But even if I hadn’t, for some reason, I really wanted to do this. That mysterious tickle between my legs, and in my lower stomach had returned.

Reluctantly, he pulled his shorts and underwear off. I don’t know why, but I demanded he take his shirt off too. What I told him was that it was ‘more appropriate’ than with a shirt on. But really, I was somehow wanting to see him entirely, properly naked. He didn’t object.

OK, the moment of truth. I found myself shaking a bit. That was weird. I told myself to calm down. Then, I did it. For the first time in my life, I reached out and touched a penis. And you know what? It caused me to shiver a little bit. There was definitely some sort of psychological charge there. Something else I’d have to investigate some day. The thing was softer and warmer than I expected.

I put my thumb and forefinger of each hand on his penis, about an inch from the tip, and pulled down on the foreskin like I had seen my mother do. But nothing really happened. His penis just sort of folded, so I couldn’t really pull down. ‘Oh, right,’ I thought, ‘Mom had to get it hard first.’

I went over to the bathroom and grabbed a roll of toilet paper. I duly dangled a sheet of toilet paper over his penis, and within a minute, it did harden up. As that happened, a weird sympthetic response happened in me. I felt my vagina getting wet. I thought that somehow this caused me to pee myself a little bit.
It was time to start the exercise. With the first finger and thumb of each hand, I reached for his penis again. It jumped an inch, and that made me jump an inch. Reaching forward again, I grasped his penis again about an inch from the tip, noticing how it was both hard and soft at the same time. Soft skin, surprisingly hard underneath. I pulled back.

“Ouch, fucking ouch!”

“Oh, sorry!” as I dropped his penis and it flopped back against his belly.

I then reached forward again, as he flinched, evidently expecting me to hurt him again. But I was much more gentle, pulling back very slowly, until I saw him wincing. That’s where I held it, for a full ten seconds. Then I let go for twenty seconds, and did it again. All in all, I did it ten times. At the end, he thanked me, and to my surprise, he said, “That felt really, really great!”

That surprised me, because I thought I was hurting him. I also thought he would barely tolerate the exercises, doing them only because he had to. But it seemed that he would be OK with this.

The next two days we repeated the process almost verbatim. Now, I’m an experimenter, and so I like to vary repetitive activities. So, instead of a sheet of toilet paper to get him hard, I brought a big feather, figuring that would be more elegant, and perhaps more effective.

I didn’t really get to find out, because to my surprise, when he walked into the living room at 4 o’clock, he was not only stark naked, but his penis was waving in front of him, already fully erect.

I almost drew in my breath. Not only did I see his erection in all its glory, I also admired his beautiful chest, butt, all of him. But his butt especially. I have always thought that was really sexy.

I performed the exercises. The first seven stretches went fine. He was so erect I could feel his heartbeat in his penis. When I just started the eighth stretch, he practically yelled, “Wait!”

I let go and jumped back, figuring I must have hurt him. Maybe I dug him with a fingernail or something. His penis started bobbing up and down a bit on its own, and suddenly, white stuff squirted out of the end a few times, while he arched his back and quietly moaned. I knew exactly what was happening, but had never seen it in person.

At that moment, I was full of mixed emotions. First, it didn’t seem right, somehow. I was his sister. But I was also feeling that deep belly tingle again, and more fluid had dripped out of my vagina. I could feel it soaking my underwear. I apologized to Zack, but he assured me it was OK. I noticed however, that he retrieved his shorts from the floor and put them on almost right away. He then got up, and without saying a word, he went into his bedroom.

An hour later he emerged, and I let him know that I really wanted to talk about what had just happened. He wanted to talk about it, too.

That was the first orgasm he had ever experienced that wasn’t in his sleep. He had had some wet dreams in which he partially woke, and remembered them as vaguely pleasant, but nothing like this! He was also kind of freaked out a bit. It was the same concern as mine. His first ever orgasm happened in his sister’s hands. Was that OK?

After talking about it a long while, we decided it was not only OK, but altogether a good thing. It’s not like we were having sex or something. And, it was a medical procedure, right? So, we decided to be OK with what happened, knowing it might also happen again.

And it did happen again. The very next afternoon, he ejaculated again. He was much calmer afterward, although I did notice that he flinched from my silghtest touch right after it happened.

June ended, and we were into the first week of July. I have to tell you, I was really, really enjoying these sessions with Zack. It got to where he ejaculated almost every time. The only problem was sometimes he’d orgasm by the fourth set, and wouldn’t be able to tolerate my touch after that to complete the last six stretches. That was easily remedied. We started doing the exercises in the mornings, too.

Quite often, when doing the exercises, it would have an effect on me, too. The business of peeing a bit in my underwear continued happening. One time, as we started the exercises, it seemed like I wet myself more than usual.

“Hang on a sec, Zack,” I said. Explaining what happened, I pulled down my own shorts to mop up the bit of pee.

While I did that, he explained that it wasn’t pee. Zack was right of course. I had noticed that my underwear wasn’t stained yellow, and it smelled different. It smelled kind of attractive, actually. He said I was “sexually excited.”

I loudly proclaimed that I wasn’t, even as I wiped up the clear, slightly more viscous fluid, that obviously wasn’t pee.

I noticed that Zack had been watching me intently, and when I turned back to the job at hand, his penis was harder than ever.

One day we got to talking about what was happening with me. From that first day, he knew that it was having a sexual effect on me. For a while, I had denied it, but had to admit, that yes, these sessions with my brother were doing something to me. And that something, while exciting, was also leaving me with a frustrating feeling that something wasn’t complete. He explained that women, too, can orgasm. Of course I knew that, theoretically, but somehow, didn’t think it applied to me. At least not in a situation like this.

Zack went on to tell me, for like the millionth time, how grateful he was that I was doing this for him. But this time, he said he wanted to reciprocate. I was thinking like he was going to make me a nice dinner, or fix my bike, or something.

But no, it wasn’t that at all. He told me it was time for me to experience an orgasm.

I was like “No fucking way.” But as soon as I said it, I knew that I totally wanted to do whatever he was planning.

Unfortunately, he heard the “no fucking way” thing, and didn’t bring it up again. Days went by, and finally, I had to bring it up.

“Zack, you know how you said something about me having an orgasm?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I do want that. Would it be too awkward…”

“Don’t say another word. Let’s do it.”

He instructed me to take off my pants and take the place and position he usually takes on the sofa. I was nervous. In fact, I chickened out. He almost begged me to continue on, but I just couldn’t.

Only a few days later, the feeling I have come to know as ‘horniness’ overcame my trepidation, and I asked him again. Of course he said yes. In fact, I’m pretty sure he was very excited to do whatever he had been planning.

Now at that time, Zack knew more about women than I would have expected. I know he didn’t have any girlfriends yet, so I can only guess that he had studied on the Internet. He didn’t just start right in on my vagina. He massaged my upper arms first, working down to my hands – very slowly.

This is not the first time he and I had played with massage. But in the past, it was always innocent. Just back rubs for each other. Not today. He had me roll over and took his sweet time massaging the back of my arms. Then the back of my neck, working his way up into my hair on the back of my head, then all over my head. My, did that feel great! I was wondering whether this would have something to do with me having an orgasm. Maybe he was just going to do that, and the orgasm thing wouldn’t happen, or maybe he’d instruct me to masturbate or something. I had read about masturbation, but again, it was something that I just didn’t realize might apply to me.

He then moved down to the other end of me. After working over my feet and ankles for a while, which in itself, was a nice treat, he started in on my calves, working farther and farther up. Next thing I knew, he was massaging my inner thighs, and that was doing something to me. I mean, really something! I had that tingle in my belly and between my legs more than I ever had it before. I even felt it in my breasts. I was breathing weirdly, and jittering all over. Almost like shivering. He reached my butt, and that too, was out of this world.

After a couple of minutes, he kind of pulled my ass cheeks slightly outward and massaged around my asshole. Wow, oh wow, I felt, well, really, really cared for. And then something happened. I started feeling something rhythmic happen in my body. I felt it in my vagina, but also in my lower belly, and in my anus, too. I felt chills, and I was practically convulsing. This didn’t last long, and the next thing I knew, I was curled up on my side in a little ball on the sofa, softly crying.

Zack seemed to know about that too. He didn’t freak, or tell me to stop crying. He just sat next to me, with his hand on my shoulder, saying, “Jenny, that was so great!”

When I could speak again, I told Zack, “I had no idea! That was the most amazing thing in the world. Thank you so much!”

And he told me that it was only the beginning. He hadn’t even touched my vagina – yet. There was much more to come!

A couple of days after that, I came to a realization: I was not only going to become a psychologist, no matter what it took to get there. I was going to become a psychologist specializing in sexuality. A sex therapist. And from that moment forward, I decided to learn everything about sex that I possibly could.

By the end of the summer, I could pull Zack’s foreskin back a bit further. At first, the widest opening we could get without hurting him was about 1/4-inch. Now, it’s almost 1/2-inch, and we are encouraged by that.

I am in college, on a student loan, but at least I’m were I ought to be!

So that’s it so far. As you might have guessed by now, I have had more experience than just fooling around with my brother. A lot more experience! I plan to write about everything I’ve done including my career as a sex therapist, and I do believe you’ll really enjoy what I have to say!