“Ok,” I agreed, with a grin. Amazed at how open we were being with each other. And how comfortable we appeared to be.
“What I meant to say is, I’m playing with my cock. But, whatever I call it, it doesn’t address the clothing imbalance.”
“So are you suggesting I get undressed too?” Sally asked shyly.
Chickening out a little, I back tracked slightly.
“Well, not necessarily undressed.” I fed back, “but you should at least take your top off.”
“Oh, so you want to see my boobs? Or my tits, if we’re using “industrial” language.” Sally responded, with a grin.
Without giving me any time to reply, she pulled her jumper over her head and swiftly unbuttoned her school blouse. Pausing briefly, but still giving me no time to respond, she flung off her blouse before reaching behind her to unclip her bra.
My heart stood still as she held the cups of her bra in her hands. I realised that I was about to see my first ever, real-life, tits. And they belonged, quite remarkably, to my step-sister.
Dropping her hands, she let those tits swing free. And what tits they were! In fact, “swinging” is unfair. They were, despite their size, so firm they barely moved at all. Large (I subsequently discovered she was a D cup), but not out of proportion to her body. And completed with stubby, dark brown nipples, surrounded by large, equally dark, areola.
I thought then that they were close to perfect. But, clearly, I had none, outside of a porn mag, to compare them to. But, in my gauche, clumsy, way, I told her what I thought of them.
“Oh my God, Sally, I’ve never seen boobs that nice. Not even in a magazine.”
“Thank you very much,” she replied, quietly. “I’m really glad you like them.”
Then, aware that I’d already exhausted my sexual conversational skills, I concentrated on my cock. Or, to be more accurate, I concentrated on wanking my cock, whilst staring hard at Sally’s tits. In fact I was determined to imprint the vision on my brain. Jut in case I never saw them again.
Realising where my gaze lay, Sally queried this.
“Don’t you normally look at the girls in that magazine?”
“I do,” I grunted in reply, as I continued rubbing my hard cock. “But, if you don’t mind, I’d much rather look at you. Is that OK?”
“I don’t mind,” Sally assured me, so quietly now she was almost inaudible. “But I’m feeling really shy and I’ve got a funny feeling in my stomach. It’s probably just nerves.”
“Ok, thank you. As long as you’re OK with that. I’ve never seen anyone’s boobs before in real life,” I confessed. “But yours really are wonderful,” I managed to stutter.
“Thank you again,” Sally replied. “It makes me feel really funny when you compliment me like that.” Then, after a long pause, “are they really that good?” she queried, hesitantly.
“Oh God yes,” I confirmed, through gritted teeth now, as I tried to delay my impending orgasm. “I can’t imagine how they could be any better.”
Despite her inexperience, Sally could see, from the way I was tensing and the increase in my breathing, that I was now close to orgasm. In the same way that my eyes never left her tits, hers were fixed on my cock.
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