My Two Hug Buddies

Brenda adores her much older brother Tommy, always giving him affectionate hugs and kisses. When she is six, her two best friends start doing the same thing.

Part One

I, Tommy, was supposed to be the last of the three Carlton children. That was the plan.

My father, Glenn, was born in 1937 and my mother, Irene, was born in 1940. They were married in March 1960. Mom was barely 20, which was the norm for brides back in those days. They got to work producing a family quickly: My brother Murray was born in 1961, my sister Helen came along in 1963, and I made my debut in 1964.

My sister Brenda was the product of “an accident” in 1971. My mother had been told by her doctor that due to complications with my birth, it was unlikely she’d ever become pregnant for the fourth time. Of course, there’s a difference between “unlikely” and “impossible” that my parents didn’t take seriously. Regardless of the unplanned circumstances of her conception, Brenda was delivered, with some difficulty, in March 1972.

The moment my parents brought Brenda home from the hospital and she looked upon me with big, uncomprehending blue eyes, I became a doting eight-year-old brother. I happily helped Mom look after my darling little sister in every way I could. I minded her constantly, helped feed her, and even bathed her on occasion. (I drew the line at diaper changes, however, but I thought that was an entirely reasonable position for me to take.)

When Brenda became old enough to accompany me to the small public park in our suburban neighborhood, I took her there nearly every day for about an hour. For her safety, I was always within an arm’s reach of her when she played on the slide or the climbing apparatus or even the sandbox. I adored my sister—and she adored me. More often than not, she’d wrap her arms around me and I’d affectionately carry her home. It was I who taught her how to read and do basic arithmetic before she even began school. Brenda would affectionately hug me for the slightest of kindnesses or for no reason at all.

There were two other girls in the neighborhood who were born the same year as Brenda. Thus, they became Brenda’s classmates at school and great friends of hers. Their names were Stacy Morgan and Patty Decker. Stacy, Patty and Brenda were always at each other’s houses. When Patty and Stacy visited my house, I catered to them just like I doted on Brenda.

One day when Brenda and her friends were about six years old, I brought them tall glasses of cold milk and a plate of chocolate cookies to enjoy as snacks as they watched a cartoon show on TV. Brenda rose from her seat and gave me one of her typical hugs. “I love you, Tommy!” she informed me for the thousandth time. I told her the same thing in return. As I began to make a tidy pile of the magazines on the coffee table, I noticed that Stacy was whispering into Brenda’s ear. Brenda nodded and announced, “Tommy, Stacy likes you very much—much more than she likes her own brother. She wants to know if she can give you a hug, too.”

I smiled and said, “Of course, she can! I think Stacy Morgan is a real cutie. I’d love to hug her.” I sat on a nearby footstool and motioned Stacy to come to me. The blonde girl with the dimples and an upturned nose quickly moved forward. I lifted her onto my lap and gave her a warm embrace. It was supposed to last for a few seconds at most, but Stacy was in no hurry to end the hug. She increased the intensity of it, put her head against mine and just reclined in my arms.

She stated, “You’ve got the best brother in the world, Brenda. Mine is always mean to me, but Tommy is wonderful.” She continued the hug, kissed my cheek, and was content to be held indefinitely. I found it very flattering, so I kissed Stacy’s cheek, too.

A voice rang out. “Can I have a turn hugging Tommy?” asked Patty. “That looks like a lot of fun. I don’t have a brother to hug. I’m an only child.”

I laughed at my sudden popularity with Brenda’s two best friends. I parted with Stacy, giving her one last peck on the cheek in order to make room for Patty, an equally cute brunette who had a dazzling smile. Patty was even more assertive than Stacy. She jumped onto my lap, put me into something that felt like a bear hug, and kissed me numerous times. My mother happened to enter the living room and witnessed this overt display of affection. It startled her, but it also amused her.

“What’s going on here?” she asked with a smile.

Brenda informed her, “Stacy and Patty both wanted to hug Tommy—so I gave them permission to do it. Tommy was nice enough to let them hug and kiss him.”

Mom laughed and said sarcastically, “I’m sure it was a great inconvenience for your big brother to be hugged and kissed by your two friends, Brenda.” Mom was perceptive enough to know that I was enjoying every second of it. “All I can say, girls, is that you both have good taste. My son Tommy is a great guy.”

“Thanks for the compliment, Mom,” I said. “I’m just trying to be accommodating. Besides, I may end up marrying one of these adorable girls someday.” That remark caused much giggling among both Stacy and Patty. They each liked the idea. For the remainder of the cartoon show, Patty and Stacy rotated positions and took five-minute turns embracing me. They watched very little TV as they had become transfixed by me for some reason.

This was not a one-off incident. As a high school student, I always got home from school earlier than Brenda did. The next day I was in the living room working on an English assignment when Brenda arrived with Patty and Stacy close behind her. “There he is!” Brenda told them as she pointed to me. “I get to hug him first, then you two can decide who’s next!” I gave Brenda my typical brotherly hug and then was quickly engulfed by her two amorous school chums who nearly got into a loud argument about whose affection I would get first.

I came up with a creative solution to stop any trouble. “Patty comes just ahead of Stacy in alphabetical order,” I noted. “Therefore, I’ll hug Patty first today, but Stacy will go first the next time.” I was absolutely positive there would be a next time. It was as certain as the sun rising tomorrow morning. I sat on the footstool again and, for the next hour, I received a copious amount of hugs and kisses from my sister’s pair of smitten friends. My ego was certainly bolstered by all of this romantic attention—even though it came from two little girls who still believed in the existence of the Tooth Fairy.

This scenario remarkably went on for years. Patty and Stacy remained friends with Brenda and continued their frequent visits to our house. I seemed to be the main attraction each time. As the girls got older, my enjoyment of their hugs and kisses increased exponentially.

One day, when I was a high school senior, I had a new girlfriend named Joanna Gleason. She was sitting beside me in the living room doing her geography homework when Brenda, Stacy and Patty marched in. As usual, I hugged my sister, which didn’t faze Joanna a bit. However, she was understandably stunned when 10-year-old Stacy led me by the hand to the footstool, sat on my lap and began hugging me and plying me with passionate kisses. (I can attest that the quality of the two girls’ romantic techniques improved as they aged.) As always, I reciprocated.

“This is a longstanding custom,” I truthfully explained to Joanna as Stacy continued to affectionately maul me, “I always smooch with my sisters’ best friends. We’ve been doing it for years.” Stacy and Patty nodded to confirm what I had said. Joanna wasn’t as liberal-minded as I had hoped. She wasn’t buying it. After watching about a minute more of Stacy’s antics, she collected her school books and left the house, never to return. When I approached her at school the next day to ask if our movie date for Saturday was still on, Joanna angrily replied, “No! Tommy you can take the little blonde you had on your lap yesterday and have fun with her up in the balcony. We’re through!” If the truth be known, I was eagerly awaiting the day when Stacy or Patty would be old enough for me to seriously date. I ruefully figured that would be in another eight years when I was 26 and they were both 18! It only turned out to be half that long before I became intimate—very intimate—with both Stacy and Patty on the same day.

Part Two

Shortly after Brenda’s 14th birthday, my mother took her shopping one Saturday to search for a spectacular dress she could wear to her upcoming eight-grade graduation ceremony. I was 22 years old by that time. My two older siblings had long moved out of the house. Dad had gone on a weekend fishing trip with a couple of buddies from work. Thus, with Mom and Brenda away on their shopping excursion, I would be alone in the house for at least a few hours.

The doorbell rang just after 1 p.m. and I was surprised to see that both Patty and Stacy were standing on the doorstep. They had matured nicely as young teens. They had been beautiful little girls. Therefore, it only seemed reasonable that they’d develop into beautiful older girls. They didn’t visit as often as they once had, but they always continued the tradition of hugs and kisses they had started as precocious six-year-olds. Of course, I was still delighted with our ritual. It was better than ever. However, I was careful not to get too intentionally frisky with my hands now that Patty and Stacy had body parts absolutely worth exploring. Sometimes there was incidental contact, though. A few times it was intentional incidental contact.

I figured they had come to the house looking for Brenda that Saturday afternoon. I told them that Brenda was out shopping for a graduation dress with her mother.

“Oh, we both knew that,” Patty informed me. “And your father is away on a fishing trip this weekend, right?”

I nodded, wondering how and why they knew about that. It turned out that Brenda had mentioned it to them in passing the day before.

“We came by to talk about us,” Stacy noted with a level of seriousness. “We both figured it was an opportune time.” My heart fell. I assumed this was the announcement I’d been dreading for years: our hugging and kissing days had now come to an abrupt end. Boy, my intuition was way off!

I welcomed both girls into the house with brief hugs. They sat together on the couch while I went back to my favorite leather reclining chair. I was about to offer them some drinks and snacks when Stacy, the brainier of the two, began to speak. I gathered she was serving as the twosome’s official spokesperson.

She stated, “Tommy, we think we’ve been patient long enough—and you’ve certainly been patient long enough. We’re both 14 years old now and we want to take our relationship with you further. We’ve basically enjoyed a polyamorous relationship for eight years that has worked out quite splendidly. We truly believe it’s time for a sexual relationship to begin.”

Despite my being 22 years old and having a new girlfriend named Tiffany whom I adored, I took one look at the two of them sitting there and I was overcome by lust. (Tiffany knew nothing about Patty and Stacy—and I intended to keep it that way.) These were nubile and affectionate young girls whom I’d been enjoying for years on a very friendly level. I knew I’d agree to whatever naughty plans they had concocted. (I did have to look up “polyamorous” in the dictionary afterward, however.)

Stacy continued, “We want to begin this sexual relationship immediately—as in today while you have the house to yourself.”

“Fantastic!” I stated. “Which one of you will be first?” I eagerly asked.

“We figured both of us at the same time!” Stacy replied. “Patty and I have shared our love for you for eight years, so we figured we could team up just once for something really thrilling. At least, we think it ought to be thrilling.”

“I have no doubt it will!” I blurted, hardly containing my excitement at the prospects of screwing these two sweethearts whom I’d long loved. “Sadly, I don’t think the old reliable footstool can accommodate all three of us, though. We’ll have to switch venues…and I have a great solution for us.”

The living room’s couch converted into a bed that I couldn’t recall being put to practical use in at least a decade, likely closer to 15 years. It took some prying, but I yanked it into place. The bed was a bit dusty, but it fit the bill nicely. With that task completed, we all disrobed simultaneously. I enjoyed watching the girls strip to their skivvies and beyond.

My two visitors were even more huggable than usual when they were standing before me in their birthday suits. Stacy had a very appealing figure, with firm, round breasts and just a hint of hair on her cute vaginal area. Patty possessed pointy tits and a bushier pussy. I occupied the center of the bed, fully aroused, where I was swiftly engulfed from two different directions by my affectionate twosome. They each caressed my rigid penis. Meanwhile, my right hand fondled Patty’s breasts and my left hand caressed Stacy’s pussy. It was a great way to begin!

I left it to the girls to determine how we’d proceed from that auspicious start. They seemed to have their sexual maneuvers planned well. Patty descended to the end of the bed so she could lick my shaft. Stacy began kissing me while I massaged both her desirable breasts. Within a minute, I was sucking on her nipples vigorously. How I didn’t come in the first two minutes of this romp is a mystery to me.

Patty cutely asked me if I would lick her pussy. I said yes, of course. She moved toward the top of the bed so she could basically sit on my face. With my stiff dick now vacated, Stacy moved down the bed, mounted my penis, and began to actively gyrate her hips. The effect was terrific. After about five minutes, the girls switched positions with Patty now riding my manhood and Stacy being the beneficiary of cunnilingus. I felt Patty attain a sizable orgasm during our intercourse. At the other end of the bed, Stacy achieved the same result just from my oral stimulation. I was soon to follow. I figured the only sensible thing to do to share my load equally was to have the two girls keel before me at the end of the bed as I got to my feet, aimed carefully, and ejaculated all over their faces. It was a doozy of a cum shot. I had never come that strongly in my life before—and I rarely have since that Saturday afternoon long ago. I suppose the lust had built up from eight years of hugging and kissing. We had completed our carnal business in about 15 minutes.

We spent the following hour just lying in bed together, completely naked, exchanging kisses and naughty gropes, laughing and smiling without stopping.

That actually was the last physical encounter I ever had with either Patty or Stacy. But what a grand finale it was! We never deliberately came to that that decision; it just worked out that way due to a number of factors. Stacy enrolled in a private high school in September, so she never saw Brenda in school any time after the eighth grade. In the middle of October, Patty’s family suddenly moved 80 miles away when her father was offered a more lucrative job elsewhere.

As far as I know, Brenda never found out what occurred at our house on the day she went shopping for her graduation dress. We remain affectionate siblings to this day. Occasionally, I’ll remind her of the past after we’ve shared an embrace. I’ll cockily say something along the lines of, “Great hug, sis! It wasn’t as nice as a Stacy Morgan or a Patty Decker hug, though.”