I have for years thought a good ENF story would be based on my many odd encounters as a shy kid growing up in the 1980s. Tits were all around me back then. Women used to wear no bra and these wonderful green tube tops that showed off their oddly shaped natural tits.
The problem with many of my stories was that I often did the dumbest things and did not take the opportunities that presented themselves. I was shy, naive and wet behind the ear. I was too smart for my own good.
One summer, I spent in Georgia with my cousins. If you remember Delta Burke from the show Designing women - picture the big brunette hair, chesty but short and fresh faced teenage cousin that chews gum and talks with a sweet southern georgia accent. She used to win local beauty pageants.
First thing I did when I got there was go skinny dipping with her and my other cousins. "Go ahead and look, get it out of your system, you perv."
She joked. She put her knee to my crotch while we were swimming and demanded that I date her friend. I didn't realize at the time that her friend was a basket case with more pimples than common sense. I was exposed to racism first hand and I was (and still am) embarrassed to say it came from my own family.
I didn't know enough about the world to really process it when I was there. Deep south Georgia was just different than where I came from. Where I came from, it was 50% or more hispanic and some of the coolest guys were hispanic and the hottest girls. I had three black people in my high school. One was a valedictorian, one was a football player and the other was a hilarious rapper who told a joke that I still remember to this day.
"Your momma so fat, takes one parachute for her to make a pair of parachute pants!"
Which hit a lot harder back when people knew what those were.
One reason I never took up writing the true story was many of the best scenarios went nowhere, and a lot of times my memories are mired by shitty things like that racist bullshit.
I've channeled my experiences in many of my stories but I have never really sat down and wrote what happened because of incidents like the racism and the missed opportunities from being a shy dipshit with literally no game. I was lucky I was handsome when I grew up, because I had no idea how to flirt with women.
My life had been a little like a porky's movie. I remember going to a campground in the 1980s that had a screen over the shower area. You could throw a rock and walk slowly past and see these big titty 80's women showering with big bushy pubes, soaping up in the shower. I nearly got my ass kicked by boyfriends/husbands/dads but It was a fun thrill to see who was in the shower.
The problem with that story is it ends there. I saw some tits, got in trouble, ran off before I could get my ass kicked, and the end.
So, I am truncating some of the characters to make the story easier to follow, and embellishing here and there. I'll see how it goes as I write it. That's why I am calling it "Mostly true bullshit".
Sometimes I start with an outline, but other times I begin with a premise and write by the seat of my pants. The pants stories are the hardest to end because it just keeps going and going and going. I may make this a vignette sort of thing and jump around a bit. We'll see as I proceed.
I do finish my stories, and I plan to finish a lot of the older ones. However, usually on SOL, not here. I suppose you could call this a girls dont need modesty story because it would be the inspiration on which I can relate to those stories.
Mostly True Bullshit (semi-autobiographical)
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EddieDavidson
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Mostly True Bullshit (semi-autobiographical)
Last edited by EddieDavidson on Sat Apr 18, 2026 3:02 am, edited 2 times in total.
All of my stories: https://storiesonline.net/a/eddie-davidson
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EddieDavidson
- Posts: 573
- Joined: Fri Jun 23, 2023 2:38 pm
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CHAPTER ONE
No shit, there I was, stuck on sunny, mosquito infested Marco Island for the summer at my cousin's house. Nothing to do and all damn day to do it. Back in the eighties the whole island amounted to a stretch of beach, a Winn Dixie, a sub shop, a marina, and a couple of tiki bars, and not one bit of it interested me. I was stuck at my Uncle Dennis's house with my cousins until their parents came home.
It had been raining off and on all afternoon. I was on the floor of my cousin Alan's bedroom watching his Betamax for what had to be the tenth time that week, because Alan owned exactly one tape. Pendragon. No cable either. I can still recite most of the lines from that movie, but I’d probably never watch it again.
Alan did have a nineteen inch color set, which back then was the size of a small refrigerator, so I guess that counted for something. Alan had just turned twenty one, and his parents had rewarded that achievement by giving him the biggest bedroom in the house, bigger than the one both his sisters shared between them. He kept it dark and messy and stuffed with every piece of Star Wars merchandise Kenner ever shipped. Door always open. We weren’t really talking. We never really talked.
Alan was a rough and tumble kind of kid, that liked the outdoors and I was an only child that liked my peace and quiet.
We perked up when we heard the stereo crank up in Kim and Denise’s room. Ray Stevens delivered his iconic line from the Streak "DON'T LOOK ETHEL!".
That song was old even in the 1980s, but it still made us laugh.
“Oh yes, they call him the streak. Boogity boogity. He likes to turn the other cheek. Boogity boogity. He's always makin' the news, wearin' just his tennis shoes!”
My cousins were across the hall in the bedroom the girls shared. I heard Kim first.
"Do the dance, Denise. C'mon, boogity boogity."
"No. Don't make me."
"I don't make monkeys, I just train 'em. Now do the streak. It's funny."
"I can't, Eddie's here. What if he walks in and sees us?"
"Then he sees your big ol' butt going boogity boogity."
“Shut the door, and I’ll do it!”
“No, it’s hot as fuck in here, so what if they see? You are the streak,” Kim laughed dismissively and sang “ If there's an audience to be found, He'll be streakin' around, Invitin' public critique! Oh yes, they call him the streak!”
“That’s HE, I am not a He!”
“You sure about that? Look at that little worm between your legs!” Kim cackled “Oh, yes, they call her the streak, Boogity, Boogity! Her butt is big and round! Her poop comes out big and brown!”
“Stop it, It does not,” Denise crowed.
Kim was the type of girl that Willy Wonka made sure got a Golden Ticket, just so the Oompa Loompas that work for him could sing a little song of their own, and boil her in her own bologna.
Alan was already up, grinning from ear and making his way toward their room, and I followed him. I was kind of shocked that he didn’t knock but their door was wide open.
Kim wore a yellow high waisted bikini, that was French cut to show off her thighs. She was short, and only a few months younger than me, but she always acted like she had more on the ball than I did.
Her auburn hair was teased out in a curly classic 1980s big hair-do. She had big droopy tits that hung down and a bigger ass. She wore a sarcastic, bemused smirk as she watched us walk in uninvited.
Her little sister Denise was a year younger and the only thing they had in common was their mousey features, and big asses. Denise was only a year younger than her, and she was usually quiet, and frequently grinned impishly for no reason. She didn’t strike me as being very bright.
Fart jokes were king at my Uncle Dennis’s house, and the girls found them hysterical.
Denise wore her hair short, in the iconic 70’s wedge cut made famous by Dorothy Hamill. She had her sister (and mom’s) big butt, and curvy figure but she had almost no boobs at all. I’d grown up with her and knew her all my life, but I’d rarely spoken to her because we simply had nothing in common.
“Do the Streaker dance, Denise! C’mon, Boogity boogity!”
“No, don’t make me!”
“I don’t make monkeys, I just train them, now c’mon, do the Streak! It’s funny!”
“I can’t, Eddie is here! What if he walks in here?”
“Then he’ll see your chubby butt, and tiny tits!” Kim snickered.
“They aren’t tiny!” Denise insisted. “Shut the door and I will dance, Kim. I am serious.”
“No way, it’s hot as fuck in here! You are the streak. People are checking out your physique!”
“Stop, Kim! Let me put my clothes on!”
“Her butt is big and round, and her poop is smelly and brown!”
“No, it isn’t!” Denise insisted.
I could picture my cousin Kim shaking her ass to the song and teasing Denise about it. I had to see what was going on. I hustled behind Alan into the room and stopped suddenly because I couldn’t believe what I saw.
“Oh my god, get out of here Alan and Eddie! We are just dancing,” Denise blushed, and slid her hands in front of her pubes, and faced her big milky white butt toward us.
The girls still had Barbie dolls mixed in with all the curling irons, makeup and bras flung over closet doors.
Denise was completely stark naked, barefoot and bare-assed. She blushed and immediately looked down at the floor as shame washed over her.
“You are the streak, Denise! Dance around for us!” Kim teased. She did a double take when I walked right into her room behind Alan.
Alan stopped in the doorway, but Denise didn’t move. That was what hit hardest. She could have turned, could have bolted for the bathroom, could have grabbed a shirt off the bed and covered herself properly. Instead she stayed where she was
She seemed to need Kim’s permission to stop.
“Don’t be shy, Alan has seen your big old butt crack plenty of times!” Kim bobbed her head to the Ray Steven’s song and sang “(Boogity, boogity) he likes to show off his physique! Ethel, you shameless hussy!” she called out.
“The song says HE, Kim. I am not a guy!”
“You could have fooled me with those micro tits and that flapper dangling between your legs!” Kim snickered. “You are the streak! Boogity, boogity!”
“The song is over, Kim! Let me get dressed, please!”
“The show must go on, Denise!” Kim started rewinding the song. “Hands down!”
“C’mon, Guys please don’t look at me!” Denise’s fingers twitched as she held them both tightly over her pussy hair to protect it from our gaze.
“Denise is just afraid you’ll laugh at her fat dumplings, and little titties,” Kim laughed hysterically. It wasn’t a mean laugh, she was having fun.
I wasn’t turned on by Denise, but I have to admit that there was something provocative about the way Denise seemed so vulnerable and stood there shivering and tried to cover herself.
“Your hair pie isn’t that wide, Denise! You could cover your tits with one hand, and your pussy with the other,” Alan offered with amusement.
Denise instantly switched her strategy, like a contestant on jeopardy when they suddenly think they know the answer to a question. She quickly pulled one hand away and used her arm to shield her nipples.
“They can still see your dookie hole, Denise,” Kim chuckled as if Denise hadn’t accomplished much by shifting her arms.
“So? It’s just a butt crack! I don’t care about that. It’s like I am mooning them,” Kim bent forward, and stuck her tongue out as she looked over her shoulder at us.
I noticed the pink of Denise’s pussy lips from behind, as she bent forward and arched an eyebrow because I’d never actually seen a girl pose this way and I can still see it in my head even though it was so many years ago.
“You don’t care they can see the hole you poop from?” Kim scoffed.
Denise second guessed whether she should be embarrassed about it. She quickly decided that she didn’t need modesty when it came to her ass. “It’s just my farty butt! Girls show their butts in thongs at the beach all the time! I’d rather face my butt toward them and cover my boobs and vagina!”
“What boobs?” Alan laughed as he sat on the bed. He was clearly amused enough that he didn’t plan to leave.
“And don’t call it a vagina. Call it a pussy!” Kim added.
Denise’s face turned deep red in contrast to her milky white skin. She scrunched her nose in disgust and said “No, that sounds nasty!”
“It is nasty! It smells like fish!” Alan said.
“No, it doesn’t,” Denise argued.
“Your pussy smells just like Snook that has been laying out all day!”
“It does NOT!” Denise argued.
“Then let him smell it!”
“No! That’s gross!” Denise frowned.
“I have one thing to say to you, Denise Hellman!” Kim pressed play on her tape recorder and Ray Steven’s began to talk like a sportscaster about the how a streaker was spotted down at the grocery store. “Hello, everyone, this is your action news reporter,” she said along with the entertainer and Alan joined in. “With all the news that is news across the nation!”
“Why do I have to be the streaker? The song says he is a guy!” Denise insisted they answer, but Kim and Alan just continued repeating the song.
“Pardon me, sir, did you see what happened?” Kim held up a blow dryer to Alan’s face like it was a microphone.
“Ayep, Hurpa-durr, I seen his ding-a-ling, goin-a-jing-aling, and I called out between the mayo and the hair gel, hey look at Martha!!!” Alan crowed in a Hee-Haw style hillbilly voice.
“That’s not how the song goes!” Denise shouted angrily.
“How does it go, Denise?” Kim turned to her with the microphone and sang into it with her sister “Boogity, boogity, There he goes! Boogity, boogity! And he ain't wearin' no clothes!”
Denise had gone from frowning to wiggling her hips, and dancing along to the music with Kim as the two of them sang the chorus.
“Hands behind your head this time so Eddie can see you aren't hiding anything,” Kim commanded, as she held the blow-dryer up to Denise’s face.
Denise rolled her eyes, took her hands away from her body, revealing her bushy pubes, and the most enormous clit I’d ever seen. I genuinely thought Denise might be a boy.
Most of my knowledge of female anatomy came from my Uncle’s Playboy magazines. The airbrush never showed any imperfections, or hang down clits and labia. Tits were always perfectly symmetrical and never lopsided or droopy like theirs.
Denise’s tits were seriously undersized, but in retrospect, I think I got excited by how puffy they were. Compared to Kim, it was like two tangerines to two long, droopy eggplants.
I felt bad about watching, when Denise lifted her arms and placed her hands behind her head while dipping her hips and shaking her ass to the “Boogity boogity”.
She knew every word by heart, and sang them silently as she danced in a hurky-jerky motion – even while the singer talked. Denise maintained a pained expression on her face like she really didn’t want to be doing this but if she was, then she was going to recite every lyric.
"Look at Eddie, he’s afraid he’s gonna go blind!" Kim teased and nudged me. She turned the blow-dryer back toward Denise to use as a microphone.
My cousin continued bobbing her hips to the 'Boogity boogity' lyrics. "It's okay, Eddie. She doesn't mind. Denise is a natural-born exhibitionist, she just didn't know it until today. Right, Niecy? You like having an audience for your little routine."
Denise had a dumbfounded expression on her face as if it took effort to recite the lines. She waited until there was a break in the song to stop reciting and shout “Nuh-uh! This isn’t my dance routine.”
“What is your dance routine?”
“Don’t you want me, by that band, the one from England! Spandau Ballet,” Denise floundered a little as she tried to catch up on the lyrics and continue dancing. There were only a few choruses left of the song.
“Nobody wants you, Denise! You are a chubby chipmunk with a farty big butt, and little tits!” Kim stated bluntly. It sounded degrading but strangely Denise began to chuckle even though she looked humiliated.
“I am not, Kim! Stop, you are messing up the song!” Denise said as she shimmied her boobs.
“Don’t you want me is by the Human League,” I corrected Denise.
“What?” Denise frowned at me, angry that I interrupted her concentration.
“The band that sings the song you like. It’s called the Human League.”
“You are such a nerd,” Kim laughed as the song hit the finale. She clicked play.
“Good, I did it. Okay? Now can I get dressed?” Denise released her hands behind her head and without any modesty at all, bent over to pick up her shorts and panties from the pile of dirty clothes on the carpet by the bed.
Alan made a rude farting noise with her voice at the exact moment that Denise bent over. She stood up, covered her ass with both hands, and insisted with fresh pink emerging on her face “That was NOT me!”
“Why are you covering your dookie hole? Were you going to prevent the fart from coming out?” Alan asked.
“Puddin Tain! Ask me again, and I’ll tell you the same,” Denise glowered at her little brother as if that was a coherent answer. It was a response Denise gave a lot when she didn’t have any come back.
Kim snatched the shorts out of Denise’s hand and tossed them up onto the dresser. “Not yet,” she said with a laugh, but with enough certainty in it that Denise froze again. “If you want to get dressed ask Eddie real nice whether you did a good job.”
“Oh C’mon,” Denise squirmed. She didn’t look at me, because she was clearly humiliated. She didn’t wait for Kim to acquiesce and show her mercy. Instead, she asked me like she was fishing for a compliment. “Did I do a good job as a dancer, Eddie?”
Denise slouched, and let her hands drift over her tits and pussy, subconsciously protecting it from my view. I might have been feeling contact embarrassment from my cousin’s blushing, naked experience being exposed and vulnerable.
“Did I do a good job as a dancer, Eddie?” she repeated, in a thin and reedy voice that was desperate for acknowledgement. She sounded like a kid asking if they’d finally gotten a math problem right after being yelled at by the teacher.
I wasn’t sure what I should say. The way Kim and Alan looked at me, I assumed I was supposed to tell her she had done a terrible job.
Denise stood there with her shoulders hunched forward. The posture made her small chest look even more vulnerable. She didn't look me in the eye. Instead, she kept her gaze fixed on a stray Barbie brush on the carpet and her unpainted toenails curled into the pile.
I cleared my throat, and felt the heat rise in my face because now I felt I was on the spot. It was impossible to ignore the fact that she was bare-assed and shivering and seemed to need to hear she had done a good job. “Yeah, Denise. You... you kept the rhythm. It was a good job,”
“REALLY?” she was delighted and jumped up and down. Her hips shook, and her ass cheeks clapped together, even though her little tits stayed right where they were.
“You did good,” I shrugged. I wasn’t going to drag things out, and I didn’t want to seem mean or perverted.
“Eddie said I am a good dancer! So, I can get dressed!” Denise pointed her finger at her sister like a wrestler challenging a foe before entering the ring and bent over to grab her clothes.
“Yeah, Eddie liked it,” Kim chirped. “That means you have to keep dancing!”
“No! that’s not fair!” my cousin stood up and dropped her clothes. I was puzzled why Denise didn’t just put her clothes on if she wanted to get dressed. It wasn’t like there were any consequences to refusing.
“Eddie is a guest, and if he wants to see your big fat turtle butt, then you have to dance for him!” Kim said.
“Nuh-uh, I don’t have to do what he tells me!”
“Yes, you do,” Kim insisted. “He’s a guest, and he’s older than you, and he’s a guy.”
“So what? He’s not the boss of me,” Denise pouted in my direction and narrowed her eyes. I hadn’t thought that I was.
“It’s the natural way things work, just like mom does what Dad tells her. Men are the heads of the house, and since Eddie is a guest you have to do what he tells you. That’s what mom says!”
“Then you would too!” Denise fired back with a flash of quiet anger on her normally blushing cheeks. “You always say anything a guy can do, a girl can do better!”
“A girl like me, not a girl like you!” Kim regarded herself as the exception.” I am in charge when Mom and Dad aren’t here. Mom doesn’t have to do what Alan says and neither do I but when Dad is home, we do what he tells us!” Kim booped her sister on her cute upturned nose while patronizing her. “You are never in charge, so it’s different!”
I didn’t feel like Kim was in charge of me, and I certainly wouldn’t have let her boss me around this way. I doubted Alan would either.
“I don’t want to be in charge, but I am not doing what they tell me!” Denise declared with a frowny pout.
“If I am not here, Alan is the boss, so you have to do what he tells you, too!”
“Absolutely not, he’s my LITTLE brother,” Denise insisted while looking at Kim to see if she agreed.
Kim was already shaking her head no with a grin. “You don’t want to be in charge and somebody has to be. It’s just the natural order of things, goes me, then Alan.”
“No,” Denise maintained stubbornly. He face began to glow pink from the embarrassment.
“Fine, If Alan isn’t your boss, then put your hands out,” Kim insisted.
Denise hesitated, but stood there with her hands in front of her.
Kim turned Denise’s palms upward and made her extend them. She draped Denise’s clothes over her arms like she was a laundry rack, along with a damp towel.
“What are you going to make me do? Jump in the pool like this?” Denise seemed mildly amused as her sister adjusted her legs so that they were much wider apart. Kim didn’t respond, instead she bent Kim forward at the waist.
The anticipation seemed to be killing Denise. “What are you gonna do?”
“Bend your knees,” Kim answered as she forced Denise’s body into a standing squat that forced her butt out. “Mouth open.”
“No, don’t put something in my mouth!”
“You’d eat it if it was a cookie,” Alan teased his older sister about her weight.
Denise looked hurt, and when Kim insisted again, she opened her mouth wide but mumbled “Don’t put anything gross in my mouth.”
That moment remains etched in my memory. A moment earlier, Denise had been insistent nothing be put in her mouth, and now she weakly insisted that it not be disgusting and held her mouth open simply because her sister told her to do it.
Kim took some sharpies, crayons, and pencils from a mug on the vanity that read “Best Sister Ever” and put all of them a few at a time into her mouth.
“You are going to be my clothes rack, and pencil holder!”
Denise frowned, and closed her mouth around the markers. “Open up, little baby birdie. There is always room in Denise’s pelican pouch.”
“Don’t,” Denise mumbled through her embarrassed expression but kept allowing Kim to stick anything that looked like a pencil or a marker into her mouth.
“Do you guys have some markers in your room?” Kim asked while her sister frowned, and stood akimbo with one hip shifted to hold her weight. Alan dashed into his room to contribute to his older sister’s humiliation.
“Stand up straight, clothes rack!”
“What if Mofff and Daddfff come hometh” Denise slurred as saliva dripped down her chin.
“Do you guys do this all the time?” I asked.
“Do what?” Kim regarded me as if I were an annoying mosquito buzzing around her ass that had to be slapped immediately. She narrowed her eyebrows at me. “No, I am doing this just for your amusement, Eddie,” she explained sarcastically before adding “I am bored, and don’t have anything better to do.”
I had no brothers or sisters, and no frame of reference for how normal this might be to them. Alan certainly seemed amused, and he didn’t tell Kim to knock it off. He came back with a grin and a box of mechanical pencils.
“Mom always buys you the good pencils,” she observed as she took a few erasers first and held them up to Denise’s lips. “Open up baby bird! Don’t drop them or I’ll put them where the sun doesn’t shine.”
“Hmmmmrr,” Denise tightened her lips insistently.
“They can go in your mouth hole, or one of your other holes!”
Denise’s eyes widened immediately when she heard her sister imply that she wouldn’t limit the pencils to her mouth. I assumed that Kim was bluffing and she wouldn’t go that far. Denise clearly thought Kim may because she reluctantly opened her mouth. Unfortunately, a few of the pens fell out and Denise stood frozen with a frightened look on her face.
It seemed like she wasn’t frightened we were watching this unfold, as much as she afraid she had just fucked up by accidentally dropping the pens.
“Clumsy butt,” Kim harumphed in dismay and smacked her sister on the butt, causing her ass to jiggle.
Alan laughed, because Denise made a funny face of from the discomfort. The slap hadn’t been cruel or painful, but it was enough to make her butt jiggle.
“What’s so funny?” Kim asked as she picked up the markers to slide them back into Denise’s mouth.
“You should have seen Denises’s eyes when you spanked her,” I mused.
Denise shook her head back and forth like she was begging for this to end but yet, she maintained the position with her butt stuck out, legs apart, and bent forward. It was as if she really needed permission to stand up straight and put her clothes back on.
I’d never seen anyone do anything like this! I’d made out with girls, but I’d never stood in a well let room with a naked girl while she waited with her legs apart. I could smell the musky scent of Denise’s pussy, as the excitement built in her body.
She seemed like she was mortified, but at the same time she did nothing to stop any of this and that’s what made it amusing and not feel like we were ganging up on her.
Kim insisted she hadn’t spanked her sister. She twirled one of the pencils and Denise obediently opened her mouth and allowed Kim to slide it in her mouth.
Kim didn't seem impressed by how obsequious her sister was being. She reached out and gave Denise’s hip a solid, flat-handed thwack, more like a rancher smacking a horse to make it gallop than a "spanking."
“OWFFTH,” Denise dropped almost all of the markers out of her mouth, and half of them hit her tiny tits on the way to the floor as she spat the rest out.
“That was a spanking, but as you can see, twinkle toes spit out her dinner. You aren’t a very good pencil holder, Sis” Kim grabbed her sister’s chubby cheeks and squeezed hard.
“Stop! that hurt!”
“Your cheeks down here, or your cheeks up here,” Kim continued to squeeze both of the cheeks on her sister’s face as she asked about her ass.
“Both!”
“You have enough padding on your butt that you barely felt that,” Kim insisted.
“Denise’s butt is so big that if she farts today, it won’t come out until tomorrow!” Alan teased.
“Nuh-Uh,” Denise insisted.
Kim’s amused eyes fell on me and I felt like she was signaling that I should pile on.
“On Groundhogs day, everyone gathers around Denise’s asshole and waits to see if it pops out and then slides back in after seeing it’s shadow!” I pantomimed a turd turtling out of an ass with my tongue and added “Two more weeks of winter!”
I thought at first that joke wasn’t going to land because it was so crass, but Kim and Alan treated me like I was Eddie Murphy in Raw by repeating the joke through their laughs as Denise frowned and blushed.
“My sister is like a life sized Cabbage Patch doll, except she’s always naked and has got a big ol' butt and a mouth full of office supplies."
“I am not always naked, and you guys are being mean,” Denise frowned.
“We wouldn’t be mean if you were a better clothes rack. Now, do you want to do what Alan tells you or not?”
“No,” Denise insisted like a stubborn, chubby baby.
“Then open your mouth, bend over and put all the pens that you dropped back in your mouth!”
I was puzzled why Denise didn’t hesitate to open her mouth. She had been so adamant earlier that she wasn’t going to open her mouth and yet she crumbled so quickly and held her mouth open.
She looked right at Alan as if she had delivered him a surprise checkmate and then with surprising resolve she bent over at the waist without changing positions and started sliding pens, pencils, crayons and markers into her mouth.
Her sister hadn’t made it obvious that she had intentionally faced the eraser ends toward her sister’s throat, but it hadn’t gone unnoticed by me. She didn’t want to cut her sister’s mouth with the tip of a sharp pencil. Denise didn’t stop to think about it. She just shoveled them quickly into her mouth while looking up at Alan like she had just won some contest.
“Those pencils you shoved into your wet gob are going to end up stabbing your tongue,” Kim pulled out several of the pencils that were facing the wrong way. “They aren’t hot dogs! You have to watch out!”
Kim sighed as she corrected the hasty mistake that her sister had made. I noticed a look of appreciation wash over Denise’s face. Kim was certainly teasing her sister but there was strange energy of “I am your big sister and your protector and I know best” that made their relationship feel symbiotic.
“Thankfth you,” Denise didn’t stop obediently putting the spit soaked tips of the pencils back in her mouth while bending over facing us.
Kim stood up behind her sister and pushed the eraser tip into Denise’s butthole. Denise didn’t resist and she didn’t cry out. I assumed she’d freak out but I was surprised that Denise handled the discomfort much better than I would have.
I didn’t see it go in but I saw Denise’s blue eyes widen and flutter like an elephant when you give it a peanut. She glanced over her shoulder at Kim to see if she really was serious.
“One in your pooper to keep you from farting!”
Surprisingly, Denise didn’t argue. Her face went red and it didn’t help that Alan and I were chuckling because she had made a very animated face when Kim slid the pencil tips in.
Alan found this to be the most hysterical thing that had ever happened, and he fell on the bad laughing. Denise only blushed harder.
“What? It’s no different than a rectal thermometer and I didn’t put it in hard!” Kim sounded a bit defensive as if she were wondering if she had gone too far.
“Can I see it?” Alan giggled and kicked as he rolled around on their bed.
“You want me to take it out?” Kim looked at him as if he were nuts. Denise glared at him with terror in her eyes. Spit began to gather in the corner of her mouth as she quivered.
“No, I just want to see how far you put that pencil up Denise’s stinky, fat butt.”
“Oh, just the tip,” Kim invited me to come behind her sister, and then she pulled Denise’s thick butt cheeks apart and showed us a single pencil sticking out of her bottom like a white tail. I’d never seen a girl’s pink sphincter before and I wasn’t sure why it excited me.
Denise’s eyes flew open, and a muffled, frantic sound as she looked over her shoulder at us and shook her head no. Kim didn’t show the least bit of sympathy over her sister’s lack of modesty and treated us to a display of a part of Denise’s anatomy that I’d never seen before.
When Denise was naked, she kept her ass cheeks clenched and I rarely saw anything more than tits, pubes and the hint of her clitoral hood from the front. When she had her back to me, I could see butt crack and not much more.
I saw everything when Kim pulled her sister’s cheeks apart while Denise was bending forward. It felt like I was getting a lesson on the female anatomy.
The way Denise huffed, and her nostrils flared she made it seem like we were taking something from her, even though we were only looking at her body.
I had no idea why Denise went along with this, but I knew that I was fascinated by the power exchange between the sisters. I had to know what motivated Denise to consent to all of this.
Kim and Denise were hardly traditional beauties but Denise’s asshole was perfectly round and almost entirely wrinkle free. The taboo nature of seeing something I knew I shouldn’t see was what made it enticing. I had no idea there was such a thing as anal sex back then.
The smell of her pussy as it juiced up was unmistakable, and what I noticed was that from behind, I couldn’t see any pubic hair at all, just two fat pussy lips that reminded me of a pink taco and her clitoris.
Denise had a remarkably long, thick clitoris and the tip was visible while she was bent over like this.
Kim acted like it was no big deal and let her sister’s ass cheeks clap back together. “There,” Kim said with a satisfied smirk as if she had just finished a difficult jigsaw puzzle. “Now you’re plugged up on both ends like a good pencil holder.”
Denise stayed frozen in that deep squat. Her thighs were probably starting to burn because she wobbled a little and moaned pathetically.
“Don’t forget her nose!” Alan suggested.
“Oh yeah, if you sneeze, or fart and these go flying everywhere I’ll make you stand here longer,” Kim warned as she pushed erasers into her little sister’s nostrils.
My naked cousin looked ridiculous and pathetic as she mumbled something frantically about not being able to breathe but obviously she was still breathing even with pencils in her mouth and erasers in her nose.
“What? I can’t hear you,” Kim slid a pencil tip eraser first into Denise’s ears.
“Now, her pussy!” Alan’s lustful enthusiasm erupted and he added “It’s the only hole you haven’t plugged.”
“Mmm-mmmm,” Denise’s sneer made it seem like she really would draw the line there.
“No,” Kim disagreed with Alan and stroked Denise’s short blonde hair lovingly. I assumed it was because Kim drew the line there as well. “You can have the pencil Denise coated with her butt-foam, but I am not getting her stinky pinky juice all over my markers.”
Denise’s thighs were becoming slick with transparent pussy juice, and I had no idea what Kim meant when she said “Denise is already wet enough to be a slip and slide.”
My cousin appeared physically dry to me, so at the time, I didn’t get the reference. Denise’s cheeks blushed hotter as if she were ashamed her body was betraying her and felt guilty for being aroused. I just assumed she was embarrassed about being naked, not being aroused.
Kim brushed Denise’s left nipple with her hand, and her sister started to move away from the touch while smiling like she was being tickled. “Hold still.”
Denise stopped rocking on the ball of her foot away and allowed Kim to stroke and play with her left nipple. I didn’t know there was anything sexual to that because it just seemed like Kim was trying to make her sister uncomfortable. “Now, are you going to be a good clothes rack?”
Denise nodded yes with a sniff as if that was all she ever wanted to be.
“Okay,” Kim’s tone shifted to someone who was making Denise a deal and meeting her halfway on something. “All you have to do is stand here for fifteen minutes and not drop anything. If you don’t then you have to run laps around the house. Think you can do that?”
Denise shook her head no, to emphatically disagree that she could hold the position, as she whined.
“Well, then you better try,” Kim picked up a pair of their panties, stretched the elastic waist band out and draped it over sister’s head which covered her eyes. Allan grabbed some towels and piled them onto Denise’s arms.
I wasn’t sure if Kim allowed Allan to do that because she couldn’t see, or not but they stacked more clothes on their sister. “I can’t hold it, Kim,” Denise whined in a mumble around the penicils in her mouth. “I gotta go poopy!”
“Don’t worry, Niecey! You got that pencil in your butt to keep your turd from dropping out,” Alan patted her head like she was a good puppy, and Denise groaned.
“How long has it been? Is the fifteen minutes up, yet?”
“I haven’t started the timer,” Kim replied flatly, without a trace of empathy.
It had been raining off and on all afternoon. I was on the floor of my cousin Alan's bedroom watching his Betamax for what had to be the tenth time that week, because Alan owned exactly one tape. Pendragon. No cable either. I can still recite most of the lines from that movie, but I’d probably never watch it again.
Alan did have a nineteen inch color set, which back then was the size of a small refrigerator, so I guess that counted for something. Alan had just turned twenty one, and his parents had rewarded that achievement by giving him the biggest bedroom in the house, bigger than the one both his sisters shared between them. He kept it dark and messy and stuffed with every piece of Star Wars merchandise Kenner ever shipped. Door always open. We weren’t really talking. We never really talked.
Alan was a rough and tumble kind of kid, that liked the outdoors and I was an only child that liked my peace and quiet.
We perked up when we heard the stereo crank up in Kim and Denise’s room. Ray Stevens delivered his iconic line from the Streak "DON'T LOOK ETHEL!".
That song was old even in the 1980s, but it still made us laugh.
“Oh yes, they call him the streak. Boogity boogity. He likes to turn the other cheek. Boogity boogity. He's always makin' the news, wearin' just his tennis shoes!”
My cousins were across the hall in the bedroom the girls shared. I heard Kim first.
"Do the dance, Denise. C'mon, boogity boogity."
"No. Don't make me."
"I don't make monkeys, I just train 'em. Now do the streak. It's funny."
"I can't, Eddie's here. What if he walks in and sees us?"
"Then he sees your big ol' butt going boogity boogity."
“Shut the door, and I’ll do it!”
“No, it’s hot as fuck in here, so what if they see? You are the streak,” Kim laughed dismissively and sang “ If there's an audience to be found, He'll be streakin' around, Invitin' public critique! Oh yes, they call him the streak!”
“That’s HE, I am not a He!”
“You sure about that? Look at that little worm between your legs!” Kim cackled “Oh, yes, they call her the streak, Boogity, Boogity! Her butt is big and round! Her poop comes out big and brown!”
“Stop it, It does not,” Denise crowed.
Kim was the type of girl that Willy Wonka made sure got a Golden Ticket, just so the Oompa Loompas that work for him could sing a little song of their own, and boil her in her own bologna.
Alan was already up, grinning from ear and making his way toward their room, and I followed him. I was kind of shocked that he didn’t knock but their door was wide open.
Kim wore a yellow high waisted bikini, that was French cut to show off her thighs. She was short, and only a few months younger than me, but she always acted like she had more on the ball than I did.
Her auburn hair was teased out in a curly classic 1980s big hair-do. She had big droopy tits that hung down and a bigger ass. She wore a sarcastic, bemused smirk as she watched us walk in uninvited.
Her little sister Denise was a year younger and the only thing they had in common was their mousey features, and big asses. Denise was only a year younger than her, and she was usually quiet, and frequently grinned impishly for no reason. She didn’t strike me as being very bright.
Fart jokes were king at my Uncle Dennis’s house, and the girls found them hysterical.
Denise wore her hair short, in the iconic 70’s wedge cut made famous by Dorothy Hamill. She had her sister (and mom’s) big butt, and curvy figure but she had almost no boobs at all. I’d grown up with her and knew her all my life, but I’d rarely spoken to her because we simply had nothing in common.
“Do the Streaker dance, Denise! C’mon, Boogity boogity!”
“No, don’t make me!”
“I don’t make monkeys, I just train them, now c’mon, do the Streak! It’s funny!”
“I can’t, Eddie is here! What if he walks in here?”
“Then he’ll see your chubby butt, and tiny tits!” Kim snickered.
“They aren’t tiny!” Denise insisted. “Shut the door and I will dance, Kim. I am serious.”
“No way, it’s hot as fuck in here! You are the streak. People are checking out your physique!”
“Stop, Kim! Let me put my clothes on!”
“Her butt is big and round, and her poop is smelly and brown!”
“No, it isn’t!” Denise insisted.
I could picture my cousin Kim shaking her ass to the song and teasing Denise about it. I had to see what was going on. I hustled behind Alan into the room and stopped suddenly because I couldn’t believe what I saw.
“Oh my god, get out of here Alan and Eddie! We are just dancing,” Denise blushed, and slid her hands in front of her pubes, and faced her big milky white butt toward us.
The girls still had Barbie dolls mixed in with all the curling irons, makeup and bras flung over closet doors.
Denise was completely stark naked, barefoot and bare-assed. She blushed and immediately looked down at the floor as shame washed over her.
“You are the streak, Denise! Dance around for us!” Kim teased. She did a double take when I walked right into her room behind Alan.
Alan stopped in the doorway, but Denise didn’t move. That was what hit hardest. She could have turned, could have bolted for the bathroom, could have grabbed a shirt off the bed and covered herself properly. Instead she stayed where she was
She seemed to need Kim’s permission to stop.
“Don’t be shy, Alan has seen your big old butt crack plenty of times!” Kim bobbed her head to the Ray Steven’s song and sang “(Boogity, boogity) he likes to show off his physique! Ethel, you shameless hussy!” she called out.
“The song says HE, Kim. I am not a guy!”
“You could have fooled me with those micro tits and that flapper dangling between your legs!” Kim snickered. “You are the streak! Boogity, boogity!”
“The song is over, Kim! Let me get dressed, please!”
“The show must go on, Denise!” Kim started rewinding the song. “Hands down!”
“C’mon, Guys please don’t look at me!” Denise’s fingers twitched as she held them both tightly over her pussy hair to protect it from our gaze.
“Denise is just afraid you’ll laugh at her fat dumplings, and little titties,” Kim laughed hysterically. It wasn’t a mean laugh, she was having fun.
I wasn’t turned on by Denise, but I have to admit that there was something provocative about the way Denise seemed so vulnerable and stood there shivering and tried to cover herself.
“Your hair pie isn’t that wide, Denise! You could cover your tits with one hand, and your pussy with the other,” Alan offered with amusement.
Denise instantly switched her strategy, like a contestant on jeopardy when they suddenly think they know the answer to a question. She quickly pulled one hand away and used her arm to shield her nipples.
“They can still see your dookie hole, Denise,” Kim chuckled as if Denise hadn’t accomplished much by shifting her arms.
“So? It’s just a butt crack! I don’t care about that. It’s like I am mooning them,” Kim bent forward, and stuck her tongue out as she looked over her shoulder at us.
I noticed the pink of Denise’s pussy lips from behind, as she bent forward and arched an eyebrow because I’d never actually seen a girl pose this way and I can still see it in my head even though it was so many years ago.
“You don’t care they can see the hole you poop from?” Kim scoffed.
Denise second guessed whether she should be embarrassed about it. She quickly decided that she didn’t need modesty when it came to her ass. “It’s just my farty butt! Girls show their butts in thongs at the beach all the time! I’d rather face my butt toward them and cover my boobs and vagina!”
“What boobs?” Alan laughed as he sat on the bed. He was clearly amused enough that he didn’t plan to leave.
“And don’t call it a vagina. Call it a pussy!” Kim added.
Denise’s face turned deep red in contrast to her milky white skin. She scrunched her nose in disgust and said “No, that sounds nasty!”
“It is nasty! It smells like fish!” Alan said.
“No, it doesn’t,” Denise argued.
“Your pussy smells just like Snook that has been laying out all day!”
“It does NOT!” Denise argued.
“Then let him smell it!”
“No! That’s gross!” Denise frowned.
“I have one thing to say to you, Denise Hellman!” Kim pressed play on her tape recorder and Ray Steven’s began to talk like a sportscaster about the how a streaker was spotted down at the grocery store. “Hello, everyone, this is your action news reporter,” she said along with the entertainer and Alan joined in. “With all the news that is news across the nation!”
“Why do I have to be the streaker? The song says he is a guy!” Denise insisted they answer, but Kim and Alan just continued repeating the song.
“Pardon me, sir, did you see what happened?” Kim held up a blow dryer to Alan’s face like it was a microphone.
“Ayep, Hurpa-durr, I seen his ding-a-ling, goin-a-jing-aling, and I called out between the mayo and the hair gel, hey look at Martha!!!” Alan crowed in a Hee-Haw style hillbilly voice.
“That’s not how the song goes!” Denise shouted angrily.
“How does it go, Denise?” Kim turned to her with the microphone and sang into it with her sister “Boogity, boogity, There he goes! Boogity, boogity! And he ain't wearin' no clothes!”
Denise had gone from frowning to wiggling her hips, and dancing along to the music with Kim as the two of them sang the chorus.
“Hands behind your head this time so Eddie can see you aren't hiding anything,” Kim commanded, as she held the blow-dryer up to Denise’s face.
Denise rolled her eyes, took her hands away from her body, revealing her bushy pubes, and the most enormous clit I’d ever seen. I genuinely thought Denise might be a boy.
Most of my knowledge of female anatomy came from my Uncle’s Playboy magazines. The airbrush never showed any imperfections, or hang down clits and labia. Tits were always perfectly symmetrical and never lopsided or droopy like theirs.
Denise’s tits were seriously undersized, but in retrospect, I think I got excited by how puffy they were. Compared to Kim, it was like two tangerines to two long, droopy eggplants.
I felt bad about watching, when Denise lifted her arms and placed her hands behind her head while dipping her hips and shaking her ass to the “Boogity boogity”.
She knew every word by heart, and sang them silently as she danced in a hurky-jerky motion – even while the singer talked. Denise maintained a pained expression on her face like she really didn’t want to be doing this but if she was, then she was going to recite every lyric.
"Look at Eddie, he’s afraid he’s gonna go blind!" Kim teased and nudged me. She turned the blow-dryer back toward Denise to use as a microphone.
My cousin continued bobbing her hips to the 'Boogity boogity' lyrics. "It's okay, Eddie. She doesn't mind. Denise is a natural-born exhibitionist, she just didn't know it until today. Right, Niecy? You like having an audience for your little routine."
Denise had a dumbfounded expression on her face as if it took effort to recite the lines. She waited until there was a break in the song to stop reciting and shout “Nuh-uh! This isn’t my dance routine.”
“What is your dance routine?”
“Don’t you want me, by that band, the one from England! Spandau Ballet,” Denise floundered a little as she tried to catch up on the lyrics and continue dancing. There were only a few choruses left of the song.
“Nobody wants you, Denise! You are a chubby chipmunk with a farty big butt, and little tits!” Kim stated bluntly. It sounded degrading but strangely Denise began to chuckle even though she looked humiliated.
“I am not, Kim! Stop, you are messing up the song!” Denise said as she shimmied her boobs.
“Don’t you want me is by the Human League,” I corrected Denise.
“What?” Denise frowned at me, angry that I interrupted her concentration.
“The band that sings the song you like. It’s called the Human League.”
“You are such a nerd,” Kim laughed as the song hit the finale. She clicked play.
“Good, I did it. Okay? Now can I get dressed?” Denise released her hands behind her head and without any modesty at all, bent over to pick up her shorts and panties from the pile of dirty clothes on the carpet by the bed.
Alan made a rude farting noise with her voice at the exact moment that Denise bent over. She stood up, covered her ass with both hands, and insisted with fresh pink emerging on her face “That was NOT me!”
“Why are you covering your dookie hole? Were you going to prevent the fart from coming out?” Alan asked.
“Puddin Tain! Ask me again, and I’ll tell you the same,” Denise glowered at her little brother as if that was a coherent answer. It was a response Denise gave a lot when she didn’t have any come back.
Kim snatched the shorts out of Denise’s hand and tossed them up onto the dresser. “Not yet,” she said with a laugh, but with enough certainty in it that Denise froze again. “If you want to get dressed ask Eddie real nice whether you did a good job.”
“Oh C’mon,” Denise squirmed. She didn’t look at me, because she was clearly humiliated. She didn’t wait for Kim to acquiesce and show her mercy. Instead, she asked me like she was fishing for a compliment. “Did I do a good job as a dancer, Eddie?”
Denise slouched, and let her hands drift over her tits and pussy, subconsciously protecting it from my view. I might have been feeling contact embarrassment from my cousin’s blushing, naked experience being exposed and vulnerable.
“Did I do a good job as a dancer, Eddie?” she repeated, in a thin and reedy voice that was desperate for acknowledgement. She sounded like a kid asking if they’d finally gotten a math problem right after being yelled at by the teacher.
I wasn’t sure what I should say. The way Kim and Alan looked at me, I assumed I was supposed to tell her she had done a terrible job.
Denise stood there with her shoulders hunched forward. The posture made her small chest look even more vulnerable. She didn't look me in the eye. Instead, she kept her gaze fixed on a stray Barbie brush on the carpet and her unpainted toenails curled into the pile.
I cleared my throat, and felt the heat rise in my face because now I felt I was on the spot. It was impossible to ignore the fact that she was bare-assed and shivering and seemed to need to hear she had done a good job. “Yeah, Denise. You... you kept the rhythm. It was a good job,”
“REALLY?” she was delighted and jumped up and down. Her hips shook, and her ass cheeks clapped together, even though her little tits stayed right where they were.
“You did good,” I shrugged. I wasn’t going to drag things out, and I didn’t want to seem mean or perverted.
“Eddie said I am a good dancer! So, I can get dressed!” Denise pointed her finger at her sister like a wrestler challenging a foe before entering the ring and bent over to grab her clothes.
“Yeah, Eddie liked it,” Kim chirped. “That means you have to keep dancing!”
“No! that’s not fair!” my cousin stood up and dropped her clothes. I was puzzled why Denise didn’t just put her clothes on if she wanted to get dressed. It wasn’t like there were any consequences to refusing.
“Eddie is a guest, and if he wants to see your big fat turtle butt, then you have to dance for him!” Kim said.
“Nuh-uh, I don’t have to do what he tells me!”
“Yes, you do,” Kim insisted. “He’s a guest, and he’s older than you, and he’s a guy.”
“So what? He’s not the boss of me,” Denise pouted in my direction and narrowed her eyes. I hadn’t thought that I was.
“It’s the natural way things work, just like mom does what Dad tells her. Men are the heads of the house, and since Eddie is a guest you have to do what he tells you. That’s what mom says!”
“Then you would too!” Denise fired back with a flash of quiet anger on her normally blushing cheeks. “You always say anything a guy can do, a girl can do better!”
“A girl like me, not a girl like you!” Kim regarded herself as the exception.” I am in charge when Mom and Dad aren’t here. Mom doesn’t have to do what Alan says and neither do I but when Dad is home, we do what he tells us!” Kim booped her sister on her cute upturned nose while patronizing her. “You are never in charge, so it’s different!”
I didn’t feel like Kim was in charge of me, and I certainly wouldn’t have let her boss me around this way. I doubted Alan would either.
“I don’t want to be in charge, but I am not doing what they tell me!” Denise declared with a frowny pout.
“If I am not here, Alan is the boss, so you have to do what he tells you, too!”
“Absolutely not, he’s my LITTLE brother,” Denise insisted while looking at Kim to see if she agreed.
Kim was already shaking her head no with a grin. “You don’t want to be in charge and somebody has to be. It’s just the natural order of things, goes me, then Alan.”
“No,” Denise maintained stubbornly. He face began to glow pink from the embarrassment.
“Fine, If Alan isn’t your boss, then put your hands out,” Kim insisted.
Denise hesitated, but stood there with her hands in front of her.
Kim turned Denise’s palms upward and made her extend them. She draped Denise’s clothes over her arms like she was a laundry rack, along with a damp towel.
“What are you going to make me do? Jump in the pool like this?” Denise seemed mildly amused as her sister adjusted her legs so that they were much wider apart. Kim didn’t respond, instead she bent Kim forward at the waist.
The anticipation seemed to be killing Denise. “What are you gonna do?”
“Bend your knees,” Kim answered as she forced Denise’s body into a standing squat that forced her butt out. “Mouth open.”
“No, don’t put something in my mouth!”
“You’d eat it if it was a cookie,” Alan teased his older sister about her weight.
Denise looked hurt, and when Kim insisted again, she opened her mouth wide but mumbled “Don’t put anything gross in my mouth.”
That moment remains etched in my memory. A moment earlier, Denise had been insistent nothing be put in her mouth, and now she weakly insisted that it not be disgusting and held her mouth open simply because her sister told her to do it.
Kim took some sharpies, crayons, and pencils from a mug on the vanity that read “Best Sister Ever” and put all of them a few at a time into her mouth.
“You are going to be my clothes rack, and pencil holder!”
Denise frowned, and closed her mouth around the markers. “Open up, little baby birdie. There is always room in Denise’s pelican pouch.”
“Don’t,” Denise mumbled through her embarrassed expression but kept allowing Kim to stick anything that looked like a pencil or a marker into her mouth.
“Do you guys have some markers in your room?” Kim asked while her sister frowned, and stood akimbo with one hip shifted to hold her weight. Alan dashed into his room to contribute to his older sister’s humiliation.
“Stand up straight, clothes rack!”
“What if Mofff and Daddfff come hometh” Denise slurred as saliva dripped down her chin.
“Do you guys do this all the time?” I asked.
“Do what?” Kim regarded me as if I were an annoying mosquito buzzing around her ass that had to be slapped immediately. She narrowed her eyebrows at me. “No, I am doing this just for your amusement, Eddie,” she explained sarcastically before adding “I am bored, and don’t have anything better to do.”
I had no brothers or sisters, and no frame of reference for how normal this might be to them. Alan certainly seemed amused, and he didn’t tell Kim to knock it off. He came back with a grin and a box of mechanical pencils.
“Mom always buys you the good pencils,” she observed as she took a few erasers first and held them up to Denise’s lips. “Open up baby bird! Don’t drop them or I’ll put them where the sun doesn’t shine.”
“Hmmmmrr,” Denise tightened her lips insistently.
“They can go in your mouth hole, or one of your other holes!”
Denise’s eyes widened immediately when she heard her sister imply that she wouldn’t limit the pencils to her mouth. I assumed that Kim was bluffing and she wouldn’t go that far. Denise clearly thought Kim may because she reluctantly opened her mouth. Unfortunately, a few of the pens fell out and Denise stood frozen with a frightened look on her face.
It seemed like she wasn’t frightened we were watching this unfold, as much as she afraid she had just fucked up by accidentally dropping the pens.
“Clumsy butt,” Kim harumphed in dismay and smacked her sister on the butt, causing her ass to jiggle.
Alan laughed, because Denise made a funny face of from the discomfort. The slap hadn’t been cruel or painful, but it was enough to make her butt jiggle.
“What’s so funny?” Kim asked as she picked up the markers to slide them back into Denise’s mouth.
“You should have seen Denises’s eyes when you spanked her,” I mused.
Denise shook her head back and forth like she was begging for this to end but yet, she maintained the position with her butt stuck out, legs apart, and bent forward. It was as if she really needed permission to stand up straight and put her clothes back on.
I’d never seen anyone do anything like this! I’d made out with girls, but I’d never stood in a well let room with a naked girl while she waited with her legs apart. I could smell the musky scent of Denise’s pussy, as the excitement built in her body.
She seemed like she was mortified, but at the same time she did nothing to stop any of this and that’s what made it amusing and not feel like we were ganging up on her.
Kim insisted she hadn’t spanked her sister. She twirled one of the pencils and Denise obediently opened her mouth and allowed Kim to slide it in her mouth.
Kim didn't seem impressed by how obsequious her sister was being. She reached out and gave Denise’s hip a solid, flat-handed thwack, more like a rancher smacking a horse to make it gallop than a "spanking."
“OWFFTH,” Denise dropped almost all of the markers out of her mouth, and half of them hit her tiny tits on the way to the floor as she spat the rest out.
“That was a spanking, but as you can see, twinkle toes spit out her dinner. You aren’t a very good pencil holder, Sis” Kim grabbed her sister’s chubby cheeks and squeezed hard.
“Stop! that hurt!”
“Your cheeks down here, or your cheeks up here,” Kim continued to squeeze both of the cheeks on her sister’s face as she asked about her ass.
“Both!”
“You have enough padding on your butt that you barely felt that,” Kim insisted.
“Denise’s butt is so big that if she farts today, it won’t come out until tomorrow!” Alan teased.
“Nuh-Uh,” Denise insisted.
Kim’s amused eyes fell on me and I felt like she was signaling that I should pile on.
“On Groundhogs day, everyone gathers around Denise’s asshole and waits to see if it pops out and then slides back in after seeing it’s shadow!” I pantomimed a turd turtling out of an ass with my tongue and added “Two more weeks of winter!”
I thought at first that joke wasn’t going to land because it was so crass, but Kim and Alan treated me like I was Eddie Murphy in Raw by repeating the joke through their laughs as Denise frowned and blushed.
“My sister is like a life sized Cabbage Patch doll, except she’s always naked and has got a big ol' butt and a mouth full of office supplies."
“I am not always naked, and you guys are being mean,” Denise frowned.
“We wouldn’t be mean if you were a better clothes rack. Now, do you want to do what Alan tells you or not?”
“No,” Denise insisted like a stubborn, chubby baby.
“Then open your mouth, bend over and put all the pens that you dropped back in your mouth!”
I was puzzled why Denise didn’t hesitate to open her mouth. She had been so adamant earlier that she wasn’t going to open her mouth and yet she crumbled so quickly and held her mouth open.
She looked right at Alan as if she had delivered him a surprise checkmate and then with surprising resolve she bent over at the waist without changing positions and started sliding pens, pencils, crayons and markers into her mouth.
Her sister hadn’t made it obvious that she had intentionally faced the eraser ends toward her sister’s throat, but it hadn’t gone unnoticed by me. She didn’t want to cut her sister’s mouth with the tip of a sharp pencil. Denise didn’t stop to think about it. She just shoveled them quickly into her mouth while looking up at Alan like she had just won some contest.
“Those pencils you shoved into your wet gob are going to end up stabbing your tongue,” Kim pulled out several of the pencils that were facing the wrong way. “They aren’t hot dogs! You have to watch out!”
Kim sighed as she corrected the hasty mistake that her sister had made. I noticed a look of appreciation wash over Denise’s face. Kim was certainly teasing her sister but there was strange energy of “I am your big sister and your protector and I know best” that made their relationship feel symbiotic.
“Thankfth you,” Denise didn’t stop obediently putting the spit soaked tips of the pencils back in her mouth while bending over facing us.
Kim stood up behind her sister and pushed the eraser tip into Denise’s butthole. Denise didn’t resist and she didn’t cry out. I assumed she’d freak out but I was surprised that Denise handled the discomfort much better than I would have.
I didn’t see it go in but I saw Denise’s blue eyes widen and flutter like an elephant when you give it a peanut. She glanced over her shoulder at Kim to see if she really was serious.
“One in your pooper to keep you from farting!”
Surprisingly, Denise didn’t argue. Her face went red and it didn’t help that Alan and I were chuckling because she had made a very animated face when Kim slid the pencil tips in.
Alan found this to be the most hysterical thing that had ever happened, and he fell on the bad laughing. Denise only blushed harder.
“What? It’s no different than a rectal thermometer and I didn’t put it in hard!” Kim sounded a bit defensive as if she were wondering if she had gone too far.
“Can I see it?” Alan giggled and kicked as he rolled around on their bed.
“You want me to take it out?” Kim looked at him as if he were nuts. Denise glared at him with terror in her eyes. Spit began to gather in the corner of her mouth as she quivered.
“No, I just want to see how far you put that pencil up Denise’s stinky, fat butt.”
“Oh, just the tip,” Kim invited me to come behind her sister, and then she pulled Denise’s thick butt cheeks apart and showed us a single pencil sticking out of her bottom like a white tail. I’d never seen a girl’s pink sphincter before and I wasn’t sure why it excited me.
Denise’s eyes flew open, and a muffled, frantic sound as she looked over her shoulder at us and shook her head no. Kim didn’t show the least bit of sympathy over her sister’s lack of modesty and treated us to a display of a part of Denise’s anatomy that I’d never seen before.
When Denise was naked, she kept her ass cheeks clenched and I rarely saw anything more than tits, pubes and the hint of her clitoral hood from the front. When she had her back to me, I could see butt crack and not much more.
I saw everything when Kim pulled her sister’s cheeks apart while Denise was bending forward. It felt like I was getting a lesson on the female anatomy.
The way Denise huffed, and her nostrils flared she made it seem like we were taking something from her, even though we were only looking at her body.
I had no idea why Denise went along with this, but I knew that I was fascinated by the power exchange between the sisters. I had to know what motivated Denise to consent to all of this.
Kim and Denise were hardly traditional beauties but Denise’s asshole was perfectly round and almost entirely wrinkle free. The taboo nature of seeing something I knew I shouldn’t see was what made it enticing. I had no idea there was such a thing as anal sex back then.
The smell of her pussy as it juiced up was unmistakable, and what I noticed was that from behind, I couldn’t see any pubic hair at all, just two fat pussy lips that reminded me of a pink taco and her clitoris.
Denise had a remarkably long, thick clitoris and the tip was visible while she was bent over like this.
Kim acted like it was no big deal and let her sister’s ass cheeks clap back together. “There,” Kim said with a satisfied smirk as if she had just finished a difficult jigsaw puzzle. “Now you’re plugged up on both ends like a good pencil holder.”
Denise stayed frozen in that deep squat. Her thighs were probably starting to burn because she wobbled a little and moaned pathetically.
“Don’t forget her nose!” Alan suggested.
“Oh yeah, if you sneeze, or fart and these go flying everywhere I’ll make you stand here longer,” Kim warned as she pushed erasers into her little sister’s nostrils.
My naked cousin looked ridiculous and pathetic as she mumbled something frantically about not being able to breathe but obviously she was still breathing even with pencils in her mouth and erasers in her nose.
“What? I can’t hear you,” Kim slid a pencil tip eraser first into Denise’s ears.
“Now, her pussy!” Alan’s lustful enthusiasm erupted and he added “It’s the only hole you haven’t plugged.”
“Mmm-mmmm,” Denise’s sneer made it seem like she really would draw the line there.
“No,” Kim disagreed with Alan and stroked Denise’s short blonde hair lovingly. I assumed it was because Kim drew the line there as well. “You can have the pencil Denise coated with her butt-foam, but I am not getting her stinky pinky juice all over my markers.”
Denise’s thighs were becoming slick with transparent pussy juice, and I had no idea what Kim meant when she said “Denise is already wet enough to be a slip and slide.”
My cousin appeared physically dry to me, so at the time, I didn’t get the reference. Denise’s cheeks blushed hotter as if she were ashamed her body was betraying her and felt guilty for being aroused. I just assumed she was embarrassed about being naked, not being aroused.
Kim brushed Denise’s left nipple with her hand, and her sister started to move away from the touch while smiling like she was being tickled. “Hold still.”
Denise stopped rocking on the ball of her foot away and allowed Kim to stroke and play with her left nipple. I didn’t know there was anything sexual to that because it just seemed like Kim was trying to make her sister uncomfortable. “Now, are you going to be a good clothes rack?”
Denise nodded yes with a sniff as if that was all she ever wanted to be.
“Okay,” Kim’s tone shifted to someone who was making Denise a deal and meeting her halfway on something. “All you have to do is stand here for fifteen minutes and not drop anything. If you don’t then you have to run laps around the house. Think you can do that?”
Denise shook her head no, to emphatically disagree that she could hold the position, as she whined.
“Well, then you better try,” Kim picked up a pair of their panties, stretched the elastic waist band out and draped it over sister’s head which covered her eyes. Allan grabbed some towels and piled them onto Denise’s arms.
I wasn’t sure if Kim allowed Allan to do that because she couldn’t see, or not but they stacked more clothes on their sister. “I can’t hold it, Kim,” Denise whined in a mumble around the penicils in her mouth. “I gotta go poopy!”
“Don’t worry, Niecey! You got that pencil in your butt to keep your turd from dropping out,” Alan patted her head like she was a good puppy, and Denise groaned.
“How long has it been? Is the fifteen minutes up, yet?”
“I haven’t started the timer,” Kim replied flatly, without a trace of empathy.
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Chapter Two - Streaking
“That’s mean, start the timer!” Denise gasped around the pencils in her mouth. She muttered while slobber ran down her chin. She tried to wipe it off, but Kim prevented her from breaking the position and kept her arms extended, palms flat and upraised.
“If you move, I start the timer over!” Kim insisted and adding “You can pretend those pencils, are penises. It’s probably the closest you will come to a guy putting one in your mouth.”
I knew a lot of guys who would have accepted a BJ from any girl, but I didn’t interject.
Denise seemed flabbergasted and offended, but Kim patted her on the butt and told her “Don’t take it so hard, Sis. It’s not a dick!” and then added “Okay, the timer starts now!”
I didn’t see a clock. I assumed they would keep piling clothes on Denise until she fell over but what happened next shocked me even further.
Kim grabbed the blow dryer that she had used as a microphone and plugged it into the wall. She turned it on the lowest setting and put it right up her sister’s wet pussy. “Let’s dry you out!”
“No, Kim!” Denise stood there wide eyed and flat footed, with her knees bent and her legs spread apart as wide as they would go and allowed her sister to put the blow dryer right next to her pussy.
Denise’s protest sounded more like someone who was terrified while on a roller coaster yelling “no!” because they were in a sudden drop. It surprised me that she could endure the heat from the blow dryer but neither Kim nor Alan seemed surprised.
“You have a wet pussy, and only naughty girls have wet pussies when they aren’t supposed to!” Kim chanted as if she were reminding her sister of some long-forgotten country wisdom.
I was shocked that despite Denise’s obvious discomfort, and humiliation, she stood there and allowed Kim to hold the blow-dryer right up to her pussy hair.
“Does this hurt?” Kim asked in a clinical, detached way like they were just blow drying each other’s hair after a shower.
Denise nodded that it did.
“Liar, it’s on low. Don’t be a big baby!”
Denise nodded apologetically, as if she was lucky the blow dryer was only on low. Her mouth puckered around the pencils, and spit began to run down her chin as she nervously fought the urge to wipe the spit away, and defensively straightened her knee. “Not so close, please!”
I found it fascinating that Denise didn’t draw the line at being turned into a clothes rack, or even having her pussy slowly heated by the blow dryer. My cousin passively allowed her older sister to set the terms of all of that, but she simply wanted Kim to pull the blow dryer a little further away from her pussy lips.
I would end up spending many nights after that summer thinking about what I saw that day and trying to add it all up in my head and make sense of it. I had never seen the two of them act this way, and I’d been at their house for the last three days even when their parents weren’t home.
“This?” Kim held the blow dryer to the palm of her hand and then let it blow gentle warm air into her open mouth. She let both Alan and I feel that the heat really wasn’t that hot before putting it right next to her sister’s dark, curly pubic hair.
Kim kept the dryer where it was as she stood over her trembling sister. Denise’s meek rabbit-like trembling almost made me feel sorry for her. She made a muffled sound through the pencils that was halfway between a plea and a whine.
“Wider,” Kim insisted as Denise closed her thighs, and started to buckle her knees.
Denise wasn’t secretly a genius, she was genuinely a bit dim because she opened her mouth wider, and let more spit drip, as some of the pencils dropped.
“Not that hole, Big Bird! Get your legs wider so the hot air can blow up your cunt hole.”
Cunt was one of the dirtiest words that anyone could say back then, and I thought it was incredibly taboo.
“See if you can play Denise like a jug,” Alan chuckled and blew into his fingers like he was holding a jug and making music except it was by blowing hot air into his older sister’s pussy. “Boogity, Boogity!”
“You can get down there and blow on Denise’s fat pussy lips, you certainly can, Alan,” Kim chuckled. Denise’s bright blue eyes shot open and her face became as flushed as the area around the blow dryer’s heat between her legs.
“Fuck that,” Alan quickly refused Kim’s offer. I wasn’t sure how serious she had been about it or whether Denise would have let him try. I had no clue when it came to eating pussy back then.
“See?” Kim patted her sister’s round tummy and observed “nobody wants to go down on your drooling pussy lips running like a snotty nose.”
“They are not,” Denise mumbled around the pencils. I was surprised she had managed to only drop one or two more.
“Would you pick those up and stick them up my sister’s butt, Eddie?” Kim asked while holding the blow dryer close to Denise’s pussy like it was a boring chore.
"Kimth, pleathth, no," Denise slurred through the pencils.
“Your nose is plugged up, your ears are plugged up, your mouth is full, and he’s not going to put pencils in your dirty little pussy hole if that’s the thrill you are after, so what other hole can he use to store my pencils?”
“Mmm, mmmm, mmmm,” Denise eagerly opened her mouth and offered it as a pencil repository.
“Fine, Eddie or Alan, would you please give baby bird another worm,” Kim grew increasingly annoyed.
At first, I wasn’t going to do it because I assumed Alan would jump at the chance. Kim glanced over her shoulder “I don’t care which one of you weirdos do it. Put the pencils in their holder.”
I picked up the wet pencils that had been on the floor and aimed the sharp end away from Denise’s mouth. I could see her pretty blue eyes through the lace of the panties on her head pleading with me. My cousin seemed so vulnerable. I wanted to be her Knight in shining armor and tell Kim that she had gone too far but I was too cowardly.
Denise opened her mouth and frowned “Justh do it, already pweez”.
I deposited the pencils into Denise’s willing, open mouth and she didn’t glare at me like she felt betrayed. Instead, she closed her trembling lips around the pencils like a garbage truck that had received its load and accepted it.
“My sister isn’t going to bite,” Kim playfully tickled me when she saw how gingerly I had done what she told me to do. “You aren’t a ham sandwich. You are safe.”
Denise frowned at Kim and harumphed.
“Oh, stop acting like you don’t gobble twinkies and ham sandwiches like Lady Hamburgler,” Kim teased. She surprised me by reaching down between Denise’s legs and feeling her crotch. “Slippery, and snotty like a snail’s asshole. You know only dirty girls get turned on this way, don’t you?”
Denise didn’t reply but her silence made it apparent she agreed.
“Ugh, you are right,” Kim brought her fingers to her nose while holding the blow dryer on Denise’s pussy with her other hand. “Her twat smells like Smoked Mullet…either of you want a taste of Denise’s twat snot?”
She held out her hand to offer us both either a lick or a sniff of the creamy substance on her finger. “I didn’t think so,” Kim said as she flicked the pussy cream from her fingers in the general direction of her sister. “Even two horny virgins wouldn’t eat your pussy snot, Denise!”
“We aren’t virgins,” Alan insisted, before looking at me and saying he wasn’t.
“Oh right, that girl that came down on vacation from Canada?” Kim laughed about some story Alan must have made up.
“Yeah, but there was also Michelle Papaik.”
“Michelle Papaik sat on your dick?” Kim found that hard to believe. I did as well. Michelle was a nearby neighbor about my age, who was incredibly hot.
“She didn’t sit on it, but she jerked me off one time,” Alan said.
“I’ll invite her over and ask her,” Kim insisted.
“Don’t do that,” Alan frowned angrily.
“Why? Because it didn’t happen?”
“No, it happened. It’s just if you ask her, she’ll think I was bragging she gave me a hand job.”
“Yeah, you were,” Kim reminded him that was just what he did.
“That’s because you just asked me if I ever got laid,” Alan said.
“You would have to crawl up a chicken’s ass to get laid,” Kim scowled sarcastically at her little brother. Denise clearly enjoyed not being the target of her sister’s wisecracks, and started giggling.
“Simmer down, Sparkle tits! You couldn’t get fucked in a room full of dirty old perverts! They’d take one look at those big old meatballs you’ve got hanging on your ass, your tiny tits and smell Chef Boyardee on your breath and toss you back!”
Kim was right, that Denise wasn’t exactly hot by conventional standards, but I was desperate enough that I probably would have fucked anyone who was willing.
Denise mewled a soft protest, and Kim actually removed the pencils long enough for her sister to register her complaint. “I am never gonna meet a boy, because you take all the guys that I like.”
“I can’t help it if they like me more,” Kim pinched her sister’s nose, to signal she should open her mouth and let her put the pens back in her mouth. “You would be too dumb to make them wear a condom. I am doing you a favor fucking them. Now, hold still, stop wiggling and bucking and keep your legs apart. It’s time to dry off that wet pussy of yours.”
My cousin shook her head frantically when Kim turned up the heat to high on the blow dryer and held it close to her sister’s pussy. Denise turned her head left then right, and endured the heat.
“They say if you can’t stand the heat, don’t get born with a sopping wet coochie-coochie,” Kim reached down again and felt her sister’s warm, tender pussy flesh. “Let’s get that wet pussy nice and teased out, like my hair. Hold still and we’ll be done soon. IF you start wriggling then I’ll start the timer over.”
I never once saw Kim check a clock to see if fifteen minutes had elapsed. I estimated it had only been about eight minutes in total since she said she started the timer.
“Alan, is your pecker longer than Denise’s?” Kim pinched Denise’s clitoral hood and lifted it up to show us what looked exactly like a small penis to me. I assumed that the clitoral hood WAS the clit at first, but it was obvious that women were far more complicated than I originally thought. They had external and internal parts around their pussy and I had only thought there was a ‘hole’.
Kim took the blow dryer away and continued to pinch her sister’s clit, while blow drying Denise’s hair, and under her arms. Then she playfully blasted Denise a few times in the face with hot air.
“Okay, time is up, you did it,” Kim announced without checking any clock. I wasn’t going to contradict her but I was kind of a stickler and it bothered me that Kim hadn’t even started a proper timer.
“Goodie!” Her sister spat out the pens and let them fall to the ground, and stood up straight. “Can I take the pencil out of my pooper?” she asked as she reached behind herself.
“No, I want you to keep it in when you run your laps,” Kim decided as she held her sister’s clit in between her thumb and finger.
“But, but, but,” Denise seemed exhausted and unable to put her thoughts together.
“Yes, exactly, butt, butt, butt. You don’t even notice it. Do you?”
“No,” Denise paused to think about it and reached behind herself to see if the pencil was still actually wedged up her ass. It was only in about an inch or so and hung down loosely. “I was a clothes rack, like you asked, though!”
“I didn’t ask,” Kim made an important distinction that she had told her sister what to do and she did it. I still wasn’t sure why Denise endured all this. “Pick up your mess, clean the pens off, wipe your pussy, and I’ll allow you to take the stinky pencil out of your poo hole.”
“Thank you!” Denise genuinely thanked her sister.
“Then I want you to go cannonball into the pool and do six laps around the outside of the house just as fast as your fat little drumstick chicken thighs can carry you!”
Denise was already squatting to pick up the pencils with her hands. Her butt stuck out like she was about to take a dump on the carpet. My cousin looked up sweetly and declared to Kim” I don’t want to get into trouble, again!”
“You are such a worry-wort,” Kim patted her sister’s blonde hair like she was a dumb dog with their tongue hanging out eagerly. “What is the worst thing mom and dad are gonna do if they find out you went streaking again?”
“Spank me, and probably ground me,” Denise glowered like a sad Eeyore from Winnie the Pooh’s Hundred Acre Woods, as she collected the last of the pencils and stood up.
“You missed some,” Kim teased and pointed to the ground to highlight a few pens that had rolled off. “I don’t want to accidentally step on those!”
“Oh, sorry,” Denise actually apologized, and then without any thought for her own modesty, turned around, got down on her hands and knees and crawled around to pick them up – exposing her anus and bright red pussy.
“You like getting spanked,” Kim smacked her sister hard on the ass. Denise flinched her ass away instinctively, but she didn’t try to defend herself. “You don’t have a social life, so what does it matter if you get grounded?”
“I don’t like being spanked, especially the way Dad does it. He uses a belt! and I just don’t like getting in trouble, okay?” Denise pouted.
“You’d fuck up something, Goober Grape! If Dad decides to spank you it’s not the end of the world.”
“You hate it when he does it to you!” Denise accused, and Alan backed that up.
“Yeah, because it’s embarrassing and if I acted like it was no big deal then he’d smack my ass twice as hard. The threat of punishment never stops me from doing what I want, and I want you to do six laps around the house after you do a belly flop in the pool to cool off your pussy.”
“You said a cannon ball,” Denise pouted and stood up with pens in both hands.
“I changed my mind. Now, run along and I won’t tell Daddy that you like getting spanked.”
“I don’t LIKE getting spanked,” Denise dashed into our shared bathroom to wash the pens, including the one that had been in her butt. “I am just doing a cannon ball,” she shouted.
“Belly Flop!” Alan and Kim shouted in unison with a giggle.
I heard silence, and then the pitter patter of Denise’s chubby feet as she dashed like mad out of their living room into their screened in pool and made a huge splash.
“How do you know she did it if you didn’t watch?” I asked Kim.
“I don’t but she probably did,” Kim shrugged and walked out to the patio to watch her sister get out of the pool and make her way to the screened in door.
I was having trouble processing why my cousins were doing this, and wondered how often this power exchange between them played out. I didn’t know terms like power exchange and submissive back then.
My understanding of some women who were natural born submissives that simply liked to please was shaped by Denise even though she’d never know it.
My cousin had spent the last twenty minutes choosing, over and over, not to walk out of the room. She picked up pencils when instructed and wiped her spit from them. She opened her mouth. She spread her legs. She allowed Kim to pinch and squeeze her clit.
Nobody had tied her up or forced her into this. It seemed like Denise really didn’t want to do what she was told at times, but then at others time she couldn’t be more eager to get a pat on the head and told she had done well. My cousin’s main concern about streaking outside wasn’t that she’d have to do it, it was that her father’s belt would hurt, not that she shouldn't have to do it at all.
Denise was soaking wet when we walked out to the pool and observed her pulling her chubby naked body out of the pool and wiping the chlorine out of her eyes. Her tummy was bright red from the belly flop she had just performed while nobody was watching. Her cheeks were as red as her pussy.
“Once I do this, then I can get dressed?” she asked Kim. It felt like she was asking the three of us, but I didn’t think I had a say in any of it. Her voice was small and wavering, muffled by the fact that she was still trying to keep her jaw set.
Kim didn’t answer, not right away. She allowed the silence to be her answer. I wondered if Kim had created that suspense in Denise intentionally because her she hung on Kim’s decision like it was crucial not to disappoint her older sister.
“It looks like rain,” she looked up at the overcast clouds looming overhead on that balmy, humid Florida summer day. “Do six laps, don’t stop, not even to scratch your ass or catch your breath and we’ll see when you come back in the living room door.”
“But…But” Denise stammered her protests with a pout as her sister opened the screened in door to the backyard. There was enough of a hedge that the pool itself was relatively private but the houses in their neighborhood were fairly close together and if the neighbors wanted to look in they would have been able to see what we were doing.
“Butt, Butt, Putt, Putt,” Kim smacked her sister’s butt with two quick slaps. “You can have two Little Debbie snack cakes if you haul ass, but if you don’t then I am going to let Little Alan play Butt Bongos on your ass and make you do it again after he’s done with his drum solo.”
Alan grinned, and folded his arms in front of him. I wondered how often this type of spectacle played out at that house.
“On the crack of your ass, get set, get ready….” Kim called out some cadence, and Denise leaned into preparing to dash for all she was worth around the outside of the house. “…and go!” Kim made a sound with her finger like she was firing a starter gun.
My cousin began to run just as fast as her short, stubby legs could carry her across the wet grass outside. I was shocked that she’d dare to streak around the outside of her house in a suburb
It was a middle class neighborhood back then for working people and most of them worked at the Marriott Hotel on the beach. It was overcast, and muggy with rain drizzling down occasionally punctuated by hard rain all afternoon that day. The grass in the backyard was high because it hadn’t been cut in a while, consisting of a mixture of grass types and Florida watercress. It was slick and muddy, and Denise almost slipped and fell in it before she made it to the air conditioning unit on the side of the house.
I watched her hustle and jiggle as she made her way around the side of her house. There was no fence on that side, and the neighbors would have been able to see her.
“Are you in love with my sister or something?” Kim asked me with a look of disgust.
“No, she’s my cousin,” I shrugged.
“So? Kim got caught playing Doctor with Ian Neff at the Family Reunion,” Alan chuckled. Ian was a distant cousin that lived way up North in Peach Valley.
“It was just Doctor. I’ve played it with you, Alan. I wasn’t trying to squash his dick,” Kim insisted dismissively. “It was just for fun,” she said before asking me if I had ever played.
I was happy she dropped the question about my interest in Denise. I wasn’t sure why I was turned on by my cousin, but I was ashamed that I had dirty thoughts about her. I didn’t know it then but the reluctant humiliation that she endured was the genesis of a lifelong fascination with ENF/CMNF fetishes and I wanted to jerk off, but I didn’t want to have sex with my cousin.
“Um, no, I’ve never played Doctor,” I said. I assumed that it involved getting naked and I wasn’t sure that I wanted to be her patient.
“Good, you are overdue for an inspection then. We can do that after dinner. Let’s go watch Denise and make sure she is running. We hurried to the nearby windows and like a flash Denise kept jogging nonstop. “Go Buffalo Butt!”” Kim shouted encouragingly through the window.
Denise didn’t even acknowledge it. She simply kept her head straight, and kept running with a terrified, and embarrassed look on her face as she stepped in wet mud and grass and tried to avoid detection. She took particular care as she ran in front of her house not to get noticed. They lived on a Cul-de-sac and there were cars in many of the driveways.
Anyone could be outside at any time, or their parents might have pulled up in their car and caught Denise in the act. I could feel a second-hand thrill as the tension rose in me as I imagined how it must feel to be completely naked and outside.
If she got caught, she couldn’t even put on clothes because she didn’t have any. I wondered what kind of excuse she might give.
In the eighties, streaking didn't carry the same weight it does now. Back then, it was just a prank, something you saw on the nightly news when somebody dashed across a baseball field or onto a concert stage with their tits out.
Dirty old men that wore nothing but trench coats and flashed women at bus stops were actually pretty common back then as well, even though I had never seen one but everyone had heard of flashers. We wouldn’t have put them in the same category as Denise’s humiliating bare-ass dash around the house.
I admired how brave my naked cousin was even though I didn’t understand her motivation. She seemed reluctant to expose herself, but at the same time willing to do anything that Kim told her to do and I assumed there was a reason.
Once Kim started running, she didn’t stop, she didn’t look back, she rarely ever stumbled and when she did, she got right back up and wiped the mud off her fat butt cheeks as she ran on the balls of her feet as if her heels weren’t supposed to touch the grass.
My cousin had a funny way of running which I can only describe as girly. It wasn’t very efficient, but it was purposeful and got the job done. Kim called it “as a graceful as a drunk beaver slipping on mayonnaise.”
I wondered if Denise ran this way when she wasn’t naked and trying to keep low to the ground. I wasn’t sure how often Denise streaked around the outside of her house, but her jaw was clenched and she was purposeful about every step she made in her mad dash.
Her arms and legs seemed to work against one another like a watch with the wrong gears. Denise’s head moved from side to side in a rhythmic, mechanical arc, following the exaggerated, high-elbow swing of her arms. She pumped her hands across her chest, but instead of driving her forward, the motion just pulled her torso into a frantic, side-to-side wobble as she sprinted on the balls of her feet through the wet Florida mud.
The funniest part was the complete lack of balance in her physique. Up top, her small, puffy breasts stayed almost perfectly still and barely reacted to the jarring impact of her feet hitting the wet grass. Below the waist, it was a completely different story. Every stride sent a violent shudder through her wide hips. Denise’s gait was so wide and her knees were slightly turned in which caused her big, milky white butt cheeks to flap open and clap together with a heavy, wet sound that I could hear as she rounded the corner.
“I got a bug in my mouth,” she said on her second round as she passed the three of us while we stood in the doorway to the living room and watched her huffing and puffing as she swung her arms girlishly.
“Did you spit it out, or swallow?” Kim laughed. I didn’t get the double entendre, and I don’t think that Denise did either.
“I swallowed, I guess,” she answered as she neared the corner of the side of her house.
“Good girl,” Kim chuckled.
“If you move, I start the timer over!” Kim insisted and adding “You can pretend those pencils, are penises. It’s probably the closest you will come to a guy putting one in your mouth.”
I knew a lot of guys who would have accepted a BJ from any girl, but I didn’t interject.
Denise seemed flabbergasted and offended, but Kim patted her on the butt and told her “Don’t take it so hard, Sis. It’s not a dick!” and then added “Okay, the timer starts now!”
I didn’t see a clock. I assumed they would keep piling clothes on Denise until she fell over but what happened next shocked me even further.
Kim grabbed the blow dryer that she had used as a microphone and plugged it into the wall. She turned it on the lowest setting and put it right up her sister’s wet pussy. “Let’s dry you out!”
“No, Kim!” Denise stood there wide eyed and flat footed, with her knees bent and her legs spread apart as wide as they would go and allowed her sister to put the blow dryer right next to her pussy.
Denise’s protest sounded more like someone who was terrified while on a roller coaster yelling “no!” because they were in a sudden drop. It surprised me that she could endure the heat from the blow dryer but neither Kim nor Alan seemed surprised.
“You have a wet pussy, and only naughty girls have wet pussies when they aren’t supposed to!” Kim chanted as if she were reminding her sister of some long-forgotten country wisdom.
I was shocked that despite Denise’s obvious discomfort, and humiliation, she stood there and allowed Kim to hold the blow-dryer right up to her pussy hair.
“Does this hurt?” Kim asked in a clinical, detached way like they were just blow drying each other’s hair after a shower.
Denise nodded that it did.
“Liar, it’s on low. Don’t be a big baby!”
Denise nodded apologetically, as if she was lucky the blow dryer was only on low. Her mouth puckered around the pencils, and spit began to run down her chin as she nervously fought the urge to wipe the spit away, and defensively straightened her knee. “Not so close, please!”
I found it fascinating that Denise didn’t draw the line at being turned into a clothes rack, or even having her pussy slowly heated by the blow dryer. My cousin passively allowed her older sister to set the terms of all of that, but she simply wanted Kim to pull the blow dryer a little further away from her pussy lips.
I would end up spending many nights after that summer thinking about what I saw that day and trying to add it all up in my head and make sense of it. I had never seen the two of them act this way, and I’d been at their house for the last three days even when their parents weren’t home.
“This?” Kim held the blow dryer to the palm of her hand and then let it blow gentle warm air into her open mouth. She let both Alan and I feel that the heat really wasn’t that hot before putting it right next to her sister’s dark, curly pubic hair.
Kim kept the dryer where it was as she stood over her trembling sister. Denise’s meek rabbit-like trembling almost made me feel sorry for her. She made a muffled sound through the pencils that was halfway between a plea and a whine.
“Wider,” Kim insisted as Denise closed her thighs, and started to buckle her knees.
Denise wasn’t secretly a genius, she was genuinely a bit dim because she opened her mouth wider, and let more spit drip, as some of the pencils dropped.
“Not that hole, Big Bird! Get your legs wider so the hot air can blow up your cunt hole.”
Cunt was one of the dirtiest words that anyone could say back then, and I thought it was incredibly taboo.
“See if you can play Denise like a jug,” Alan chuckled and blew into his fingers like he was holding a jug and making music except it was by blowing hot air into his older sister’s pussy. “Boogity, Boogity!”
“You can get down there and blow on Denise’s fat pussy lips, you certainly can, Alan,” Kim chuckled. Denise’s bright blue eyes shot open and her face became as flushed as the area around the blow dryer’s heat between her legs.
“Fuck that,” Alan quickly refused Kim’s offer. I wasn’t sure how serious she had been about it or whether Denise would have let him try. I had no clue when it came to eating pussy back then.
“See?” Kim patted her sister’s round tummy and observed “nobody wants to go down on your drooling pussy lips running like a snotty nose.”
“They are not,” Denise mumbled around the pencils. I was surprised she had managed to only drop one or two more.
“Would you pick those up and stick them up my sister’s butt, Eddie?” Kim asked while holding the blow dryer close to Denise’s pussy like it was a boring chore.
"Kimth, pleathth, no," Denise slurred through the pencils.
“Your nose is plugged up, your ears are plugged up, your mouth is full, and he’s not going to put pencils in your dirty little pussy hole if that’s the thrill you are after, so what other hole can he use to store my pencils?”
“Mmm, mmmm, mmmm,” Denise eagerly opened her mouth and offered it as a pencil repository.
“Fine, Eddie or Alan, would you please give baby bird another worm,” Kim grew increasingly annoyed.
At first, I wasn’t going to do it because I assumed Alan would jump at the chance. Kim glanced over her shoulder “I don’t care which one of you weirdos do it. Put the pencils in their holder.”
I picked up the wet pencils that had been on the floor and aimed the sharp end away from Denise’s mouth. I could see her pretty blue eyes through the lace of the panties on her head pleading with me. My cousin seemed so vulnerable. I wanted to be her Knight in shining armor and tell Kim that she had gone too far but I was too cowardly.
Denise opened her mouth and frowned “Justh do it, already pweez”.
I deposited the pencils into Denise’s willing, open mouth and she didn’t glare at me like she felt betrayed. Instead, she closed her trembling lips around the pencils like a garbage truck that had received its load and accepted it.
“My sister isn’t going to bite,” Kim playfully tickled me when she saw how gingerly I had done what she told me to do. “You aren’t a ham sandwich. You are safe.”
Denise frowned at Kim and harumphed.
“Oh, stop acting like you don’t gobble twinkies and ham sandwiches like Lady Hamburgler,” Kim teased. She surprised me by reaching down between Denise’s legs and feeling her crotch. “Slippery, and snotty like a snail’s asshole. You know only dirty girls get turned on this way, don’t you?”
Denise didn’t reply but her silence made it apparent she agreed.
“Ugh, you are right,” Kim brought her fingers to her nose while holding the blow dryer on Denise’s pussy with her other hand. “Her twat smells like Smoked Mullet…either of you want a taste of Denise’s twat snot?”
She held out her hand to offer us both either a lick or a sniff of the creamy substance on her finger. “I didn’t think so,” Kim said as she flicked the pussy cream from her fingers in the general direction of her sister. “Even two horny virgins wouldn’t eat your pussy snot, Denise!”
“We aren’t virgins,” Alan insisted, before looking at me and saying he wasn’t.
“Oh right, that girl that came down on vacation from Canada?” Kim laughed about some story Alan must have made up.
“Yeah, but there was also Michelle Papaik.”
“Michelle Papaik sat on your dick?” Kim found that hard to believe. I did as well. Michelle was a nearby neighbor about my age, who was incredibly hot.
“She didn’t sit on it, but she jerked me off one time,” Alan said.
“I’ll invite her over and ask her,” Kim insisted.
“Don’t do that,” Alan frowned angrily.
“Why? Because it didn’t happen?”
“No, it happened. It’s just if you ask her, she’ll think I was bragging she gave me a hand job.”
“Yeah, you were,” Kim reminded him that was just what he did.
“That’s because you just asked me if I ever got laid,” Alan said.
“You would have to crawl up a chicken’s ass to get laid,” Kim scowled sarcastically at her little brother. Denise clearly enjoyed not being the target of her sister’s wisecracks, and started giggling.
“Simmer down, Sparkle tits! You couldn’t get fucked in a room full of dirty old perverts! They’d take one look at those big old meatballs you’ve got hanging on your ass, your tiny tits and smell Chef Boyardee on your breath and toss you back!”
Kim was right, that Denise wasn’t exactly hot by conventional standards, but I was desperate enough that I probably would have fucked anyone who was willing.
Denise mewled a soft protest, and Kim actually removed the pencils long enough for her sister to register her complaint. “I am never gonna meet a boy, because you take all the guys that I like.”
“I can’t help it if they like me more,” Kim pinched her sister’s nose, to signal she should open her mouth and let her put the pens back in her mouth. “You would be too dumb to make them wear a condom. I am doing you a favor fucking them. Now, hold still, stop wiggling and bucking and keep your legs apart. It’s time to dry off that wet pussy of yours.”
My cousin shook her head frantically when Kim turned up the heat to high on the blow dryer and held it close to her sister’s pussy. Denise turned her head left then right, and endured the heat.
“They say if you can’t stand the heat, don’t get born with a sopping wet coochie-coochie,” Kim reached down again and felt her sister’s warm, tender pussy flesh. “Let’s get that wet pussy nice and teased out, like my hair. Hold still and we’ll be done soon. IF you start wriggling then I’ll start the timer over.”
I never once saw Kim check a clock to see if fifteen minutes had elapsed. I estimated it had only been about eight minutes in total since she said she started the timer.
“Alan, is your pecker longer than Denise’s?” Kim pinched Denise’s clitoral hood and lifted it up to show us what looked exactly like a small penis to me. I assumed that the clitoral hood WAS the clit at first, but it was obvious that women were far more complicated than I originally thought. They had external and internal parts around their pussy and I had only thought there was a ‘hole’.
Kim took the blow dryer away and continued to pinch her sister’s clit, while blow drying Denise’s hair, and under her arms. Then she playfully blasted Denise a few times in the face with hot air.
“Okay, time is up, you did it,” Kim announced without checking any clock. I wasn’t going to contradict her but I was kind of a stickler and it bothered me that Kim hadn’t even started a proper timer.
“Goodie!” Her sister spat out the pens and let them fall to the ground, and stood up straight. “Can I take the pencil out of my pooper?” she asked as she reached behind herself.
“No, I want you to keep it in when you run your laps,” Kim decided as she held her sister’s clit in between her thumb and finger.
“But, but, but,” Denise seemed exhausted and unable to put her thoughts together.
“Yes, exactly, butt, butt, butt. You don’t even notice it. Do you?”
“No,” Denise paused to think about it and reached behind herself to see if the pencil was still actually wedged up her ass. It was only in about an inch or so and hung down loosely. “I was a clothes rack, like you asked, though!”
“I didn’t ask,” Kim made an important distinction that she had told her sister what to do and she did it. I still wasn’t sure why Denise endured all this. “Pick up your mess, clean the pens off, wipe your pussy, and I’ll allow you to take the stinky pencil out of your poo hole.”
“Thank you!” Denise genuinely thanked her sister.
“Then I want you to go cannonball into the pool and do six laps around the outside of the house just as fast as your fat little drumstick chicken thighs can carry you!”
Denise was already squatting to pick up the pencils with her hands. Her butt stuck out like she was about to take a dump on the carpet. My cousin looked up sweetly and declared to Kim” I don’t want to get into trouble, again!”
“You are such a worry-wort,” Kim patted her sister’s blonde hair like she was a dumb dog with their tongue hanging out eagerly. “What is the worst thing mom and dad are gonna do if they find out you went streaking again?”
“Spank me, and probably ground me,” Denise glowered like a sad Eeyore from Winnie the Pooh’s Hundred Acre Woods, as she collected the last of the pencils and stood up.
“You missed some,” Kim teased and pointed to the ground to highlight a few pens that had rolled off. “I don’t want to accidentally step on those!”
“Oh, sorry,” Denise actually apologized, and then without any thought for her own modesty, turned around, got down on her hands and knees and crawled around to pick them up – exposing her anus and bright red pussy.
“You like getting spanked,” Kim smacked her sister hard on the ass. Denise flinched her ass away instinctively, but she didn’t try to defend herself. “You don’t have a social life, so what does it matter if you get grounded?”
“I don’t like being spanked, especially the way Dad does it. He uses a belt! and I just don’t like getting in trouble, okay?” Denise pouted.
“You’d fuck up something, Goober Grape! If Dad decides to spank you it’s not the end of the world.”
“You hate it when he does it to you!” Denise accused, and Alan backed that up.
“Yeah, because it’s embarrassing and if I acted like it was no big deal then he’d smack my ass twice as hard. The threat of punishment never stops me from doing what I want, and I want you to do six laps around the house after you do a belly flop in the pool to cool off your pussy.”
“You said a cannon ball,” Denise pouted and stood up with pens in both hands.
“I changed my mind. Now, run along and I won’t tell Daddy that you like getting spanked.”
“I don’t LIKE getting spanked,” Denise dashed into our shared bathroom to wash the pens, including the one that had been in her butt. “I am just doing a cannon ball,” she shouted.
“Belly Flop!” Alan and Kim shouted in unison with a giggle.
I heard silence, and then the pitter patter of Denise’s chubby feet as she dashed like mad out of their living room into their screened in pool and made a huge splash.
“How do you know she did it if you didn’t watch?” I asked Kim.
“I don’t but she probably did,” Kim shrugged and walked out to the patio to watch her sister get out of the pool and make her way to the screened in door.
I was having trouble processing why my cousins were doing this, and wondered how often this power exchange between them played out. I didn’t know terms like power exchange and submissive back then.
My understanding of some women who were natural born submissives that simply liked to please was shaped by Denise even though she’d never know it.
My cousin had spent the last twenty minutes choosing, over and over, not to walk out of the room. She picked up pencils when instructed and wiped her spit from them. She opened her mouth. She spread her legs. She allowed Kim to pinch and squeeze her clit.
Nobody had tied her up or forced her into this. It seemed like Denise really didn’t want to do what she was told at times, but then at others time she couldn’t be more eager to get a pat on the head and told she had done well. My cousin’s main concern about streaking outside wasn’t that she’d have to do it, it was that her father’s belt would hurt, not that she shouldn't have to do it at all.
Denise was soaking wet when we walked out to the pool and observed her pulling her chubby naked body out of the pool and wiping the chlorine out of her eyes. Her tummy was bright red from the belly flop she had just performed while nobody was watching. Her cheeks were as red as her pussy.
“Once I do this, then I can get dressed?” she asked Kim. It felt like she was asking the three of us, but I didn’t think I had a say in any of it. Her voice was small and wavering, muffled by the fact that she was still trying to keep her jaw set.
Kim didn’t answer, not right away. She allowed the silence to be her answer. I wondered if Kim had created that suspense in Denise intentionally because her she hung on Kim’s decision like it was crucial not to disappoint her older sister.
“It looks like rain,” she looked up at the overcast clouds looming overhead on that balmy, humid Florida summer day. “Do six laps, don’t stop, not even to scratch your ass or catch your breath and we’ll see when you come back in the living room door.”
“But…But” Denise stammered her protests with a pout as her sister opened the screened in door to the backyard. There was enough of a hedge that the pool itself was relatively private but the houses in their neighborhood were fairly close together and if the neighbors wanted to look in they would have been able to see what we were doing.
“Butt, Butt, Putt, Putt,” Kim smacked her sister’s butt with two quick slaps. “You can have two Little Debbie snack cakes if you haul ass, but if you don’t then I am going to let Little Alan play Butt Bongos on your ass and make you do it again after he’s done with his drum solo.”
Alan grinned, and folded his arms in front of him. I wondered how often this type of spectacle played out at that house.
“On the crack of your ass, get set, get ready….” Kim called out some cadence, and Denise leaned into preparing to dash for all she was worth around the outside of the house. “…and go!” Kim made a sound with her finger like she was firing a starter gun.
My cousin began to run just as fast as her short, stubby legs could carry her across the wet grass outside. I was shocked that she’d dare to streak around the outside of her house in a suburb
It was a middle class neighborhood back then for working people and most of them worked at the Marriott Hotel on the beach. It was overcast, and muggy with rain drizzling down occasionally punctuated by hard rain all afternoon that day. The grass in the backyard was high because it hadn’t been cut in a while, consisting of a mixture of grass types and Florida watercress. It was slick and muddy, and Denise almost slipped and fell in it before she made it to the air conditioning unit on the side of the house.
I watched her hustle and jiggle as she made her way around the side of her house. There was no fence on that side, and the neighbors would have been able to see her.
“Are you in love with my sister or something?” Kim asked me with a look of disgust.
“No, she’s my cousin,” I shrugged.
“So? Kim got caught playing Doctor with Ian Neff at the Family Reunion,” Alan chuckled. Ian was a distant cousin that lived way up North in Peach Valley.
“It was just Doctor. I’ve played it with you, Alan. I wasn’t trying to squash his dick,” Kim insisted dismissively. “It was just for fun,” she said before asking me if I had ever played.
I was happy she dropped the question about my interest in Denise. I wasn’t sure why I was turned on by my cousin, but I was ashamed that I had dirty thoughts about her. I didn’t know it then but the reluctant humiliation that she endured was the genesis of a lifelong fascination with ENF/CMNF fetishes and I wanted to jerk off, but I didn’t want to have sex with my cousin.
“Um, no, I’ve never played Doctor,” I said. I assumed that it involved getting naked and I wasn’t sure that I wanted to be her patient.
“Good, you are overdue for an inspection then. We can do that after dinner. Let’s go watch Denise and make sure she is running. We hurried to the nearby windows and like a flash Denise kept jogging nonstop. “Go Buffalo Butt!”” Kim shouted encouragingly through the window.
Denise didn’t even acknowledge it. She simply kept her head straight, and kept running with a terrified, and embarrassed look on her face as she stepped in wet mud and grass and tried to avoid detection. She took particular care as she ran in front of her house not to get noticed. They lived on a Cul-de-sac and there were cars in many of the driveways.
Anyone could be outside at any time, or their parents might have pulled up in their car and caught Denise in the act. I could feel a second-hand thrill as the tension rose in me as I imagined how it must feel to be completely naked and outside.
If she got caught, she couldn’t even put on clothes because she didn’t have any. I wondered what kind of excuse she might give.
In the eighties, streaking didn't carry the same weight it does now. Back then, it was just a prank, something you saw on the nightly news when somebody dashed across a baseball field or onto a concert stage with their tits out.
Dirty old men that wore nothing but trench coats and flashed women at bus stops were actually pretty common back then as well, even though I had never seen one but everyone had heard of flashers. We wouldn’t have put them in the same category as Denise’s humiliating bare-ass dash around the house.
I admired how brave my naked cousin was even though I didn’t understand her motivation. She seemed reluctant to expose herself, but at the same time willing to do anything that Kim told her to do and I assumed there was a reason.
Once Kim started running, she didn’t stop, she didn’t look back, she rarely ever stumbled and when she did, she got right back up and wiped the mud off her fat butt cheeks as she ran on the balls of her feet as if her heels weren’t supposed to touch the grass.
My cousin had a funny way of running which I can only describe as girly. It wasn’t very efficient, but it was purposeful and got the job done. Kim called it “as a graceful as a drunk beaver slipping on mayonnaise.”
I wondered if Denise ran this way when she wasn’t naked and trying to keep low to the ground. I wasn’t sure how often Denise streaked around the outside of her house, but her jaw was clenched and she was purposeful about every step she made in her mad dash.
Her arms and legs seemed to work against one another like a watch with the wrong gears. Denise’s head moved from side to side in a rhythmic, mechanical arc, following the exaggerated, high-elbow swing of her arms. She pumped her hands across her chest, but instead of driving her forward, the motion just pulled her torso into a frantic, side-to-side wobble as she sprinted on the balls of her feet through the wet Florida mud.
The funniest part was the complete lack of balance in her physique. Up top, her small, puffy breasts stayed almost perfectly still and barely reacted to the jarring impact of her feet hitting the wet grass. Below the waist, it was a completely different story. Every stride sent a violent shudder through her wide hips. Denise’s gait was so wide and her knees were slightly turned in which caused her big, milky white butt cheeks to flap open and clap together with a heavy, wet sound that I could hear as she rounded the corner.
“I got a bug in my mouth,” she said on her second round as she passed the three of us while we stood in the doorway to the living room and watched her huffing and puffing as she swung her arms girlishly.
“Did you spit it out, or swallow?” Kim laughed. I didn’t get the double entendre, and I don’t think that Denise did either.
“I swallowed, I guess,” she answered as she neared the corner of the side of her house.
“Good girl,” Kim chuckled.
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Re: Mostly True Bullshit (semi-autobiographical)
This story reminded me of when the streaker craze hit my high school in 1974. I had to dodge a streaker as she ran down the corridor. There was even a group streak past the cafeteria. 
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