Part 2: Naomi.
My name is Nimmie, and I’m 19 years old. I live with my mum and older brother, Rowan, in a place called Caterham, not far from Gatwick Airport, in Surrey, England. I’m just under 5’6″, blonde hair like mum’s, but more sort of ‘washed-out’; mum’s hair is a lovely deep, honey- gold; mine, not so much; Rowan says my colour is what they call ‘corn-blonde’. I have green eyes, a fair complexion, slim and willowy (according to Rowan) with 32B boobs, which look bigger because I have a small waist, but I still look in-proportion to my height and weight. My friends say I’m shapely, with a nice round bum, which allegedly is what men want in a blonde. Rowan says I’m pretty, but he’s my big brother, he’s supposed to. I tip the scales at just about 58 kilos, or 127 lbs, so not exactly underweight, either. All things being equal, I think I fit together pretty well.
Rowan is nearly two years older than me, with green-hazel eyes. He looks an awful lot like dad, which means he’s a real looker, something my girlfriends at school would never, ever let up about, and I do sometimes see mum looking at him when he’s not looking and there’s a tear in her eye. Rowan is tall, almost 6’2″, well, but not heavily, built, more a sort of triathlete’s build, or maybe a championship tennis player; well-muscled but not at all heavy or hulking is the best way I can describe him.
Rowan, on the other hand, claims he’s built like a racing turkey…
He has beautiful chestnut hair, shot through with blond highlights, like dad’s, but not well groomed and meticulous like dad always was, though; Rowan goes out of his way to look anonymous and nondescript, as little as possible like that bastard father of ours, in fact. It doesn’t fool me, though, nor my friends; anything more than a quick glance at him and the man-hottie he tries to hide leaps out at you.
I did have one shameful secret, and it was driving me insane with the effort of not just blurting it out; of all the boys I’ve met, since I was old enough to date and have ‘the talk’ with mum and the visit to the gynaecologist, there’s only ever been one guy I’d seriously leap on and have my way with, and it’s Rowan. Sick, huh? I saw him naked one day, purely by chance, and that was it; that’s what did it for me.
It was not long after Easter when it happened; I’d just returned to uni after the Spring Term break, and came home one afternoon to an empty house, or so I thought. Mum’s car was gone, I didn’t know Rowan was home, and I’m sure he didn’t know I’d come in from classes. I was going upstairs to dump my books in my room and change, when the bathroom door opened and out he walked, stark naked, towelling his hair dry.
He was completely unconscious of my presence as I stood in the bend of the stairs, hidden in the shadow there, staring up at him, absolutely enthralled at seeing him so natural and relaxed, with that perfect poise and unawareness of being observed that even the best stage actors can’t capture. I marvelled at his toned, lean torso, at the way each muscle flexed and rippled, perfectly outlined by the dark hair beginning to speckle his chest and outline the muscles of his solid abdomen, at how elegant, graceful and fluid his movements were, and just how perfect his profile was. I held my breath, making no sound or movement to tip him off to my presence, just lost in the sheer visual impact of him as he stood there, completely natural and oblivious, breathtaking in his masculine beauty as he scrubbed at his hair with the towel.
Confused emotions whirled through me; I loved Rowan, he loved me, he was my family, my big brother, and suddenly I fancied him! God, what was wrong with me?
From then on, I’d developed a sort of teasing regime, for reasons that still seemed unclear, but felt right. On days when I wasn’t in class or being an auxiliary at the hospital, I’d prance around the house in skin-tight boy-shorts and cut-off tank tops, or sunbathe on the patio in a teensy little red bikini and somehow convince him to rub sun-block on me; as I have very fair skin, he’d help me, slapping it on haphazardly then bolting for the house, and later I’d get the lecture about my skin type being susceptible to skin cancer, which was kind of a boner-killer, even lady-boners…
Still, he meant well, and it showed he cared, but there was no evidence that he was interested in me, or ever was going to be, and I began to despair of ever getting him into a compromising position.
After nearly a year of drooling over him, mooning around half-naked and getting nothing except “Cover them up, Nim; if mum sees you looking like that she’ll lock you up in a convent!” and generally getting no more comments or compliments about my bum, or any other part of me, either, I was ready to move things up to DEFCON 2. He wanted to play hard to get, I was willing to play hardball, we’d just see who cracked first.
The next time I had a late morning, no classes and no ward-duties at the hospital, I sneaked into his room to have a rifle through his laptop. I knew he didn’t have a password; he never took his laptop out of the house, and I had my own laptop, so he probably thought I’d never snoop his, as what would I do with a bunch of essays and papers on vulcanism and plate tectonics, coastal erosion, and alluvial whatnots. Never, ever believe your little sister is not nosy enough to snoop your laptop; that way lies ruin. My own laptop was locked-down tighter than the Jewel Room in the Tower of London, but then I’m sneaky, deceitful, devious, and underhanded…
On first powering-up, there was nothing immediately incriminating on his desktop, and searching through the dozens of folders there only turned up more and varied papers and charts, diagrams, and graphs relating to his studies. I was about to give up, when I noticed an icon labelled ‘virtual drive’, so I clicked on it, and there was a sub-folder, titled simply ‘N’.
Intrigued more than ever, I clicked on it, and gasped out loud. The girl in the pictures looked exactly like me, being fucked in every possible position, in every hole! There were pictures ranging from straightforward sex, to having a thick cock shoved into her arse, to sucking one, sometimes two cocks at the same time, and many, many shots of her kneeling with her eyes closed as cocks blew their loads over her face, rivulets of spunk running down her face and dripping from her chin in long ropes.
There were video clips as well, in some foreign language, maybe Russian, and it was more of the same. I could feel my pussy itching and throbbing at the sight of a girl who could be me being used in such a filthy, dirty, depraved, exciting way. I wanted it to be me, I wanted to be her, and I wanted Rowan to be the one doing all that to me! Now my pussy was screaming for attention again, so I staggered back to my room, flopped onto my bed, and jammed my plastic boyfriend into me, in any and every hole, while all the time seeing Rowan above me as I imagined that solid, tireless cock of his pounding into me until I erupted in a sweltering, boiling, explosive orgasm that nearly knocked me out cold.
*
The next day was probably the turning point, the point in my life where teasing and fantasising turned into serious plotting. I was talking to my friend Jane, someone I’d known half my life; I’d had a pre-teen crush on her older brother, Greg, for a while, and she was the person who’d convinced me to study nursing with her.
While we were chatting about general stuff, life, boys, that sort of thing, and sniggering at the junior doctors and medical students trying to appear cool in front of the student nurses, I dropped my guard and, quite without meaning to, blurted out that I thought my big brother was hot, and that I’d do him before I let any of those spotty medical students anywhere near me, and then stopped in horror as I realised what I’d just confessed to.
Jane gave me a really odd look, then took me to one side, where she asked me exactly what I meant. I was cornered, so I told her what I’d been trying to do, what I was feeling for Rowan, the whole nine yards. She gave me a very peculiar look, almost calculating, then told me in no uncertain terms to think carefully about what I was doing. She was going away for Easter, but if I was serious, then perhaps we should have a little chat when classes were back in, because she thought she might be able to help me. That was enough to intrigue me, and so I spent the entire Easter break in a fever of anticipation; for the first time in my life, I actually couldn’t wait to get back to class.
A couple of days after classes resumed, I was in the cafeteria when Jane caught my eye. She was sitting alone at a table. She rolled her eyes to indicate the empty chair opposite her, so I casually sauntered over and plonked my tray on the table, dumped my books and sat down. Jane didn’t waste any time getting to the point.
“Have you thought about what we discussed before Easter?”
I nodded, and Jane also nodded, watching me carefully in silence for a little longer than I was comfortable with, then seemed to come to a decision.
“Alright, I know some people who may be able to help you. Don’t ask me any questions, Nim, because I’ll just have to lie to you; just accept I know what I’m doing. I have to make a few calls, and you’ll be hearing from someone soon enough, just be patient, got it?”
I nodded again, for the first time wondering just what I was getting myself into.
Jane nodded her head slowly, never once breaking eye contact, then leaned closer, her voice barely audible over the noise and clatter of the cafeteria.
“If you’re having second thoughts, Nim, now’s the time; I don’t feel like wasting my time if you’re going to get cold feet. Are you absolutely sure about this? Because this isn’t kiss the boys and run away, or spin the bottle; real people are involved, and getting involved means going all the way; are you still sure this is what you want?”
I looked her back in the eye and nodded.
“Yes I am; I think he’s worth it; you know him too, almost as well as I do; don’t you think he’s worth it? I’ve tried it my way; I couldn’t get it to happen. Now I think I have to try it your way.”
Jane smiled and reached over to pat me on my wrist.
“Okay, as long as you’re sure. I think you’ll be alright. The first time I did this with Greg I was scared, but I shouldn’t have been; the people we’re talking about here need to be careful, but they’re good people, and they know what they’re doing; they’ll look after you and make sure you’re safe and it’s something you’re completely happy doing. Trust me, Nim, I know you’ll enjoy it. And, just for the record, Greg and I are still together, in secret, of course, but when I’ve qualified, we’re going away somewhere where we can be together and safe; maybe you need to make plans as well. You know I think Rowan is a hottie, too; much as I love my Greggie, I’m feeling quite jealous of you right now!”