Avatar: The Last Airbender Porn Story: a bender of her talents
Katara came back after another night’s work. She set her coat upon a chair and, through the maze of crates and stashes, walked into the rear of the hut. She massaged her hands; they ached, nimble yet sore, they craved a night of rest. But as long as she was that tribe’s bender it was her responsibility to do the job.
She took a lantern that dangled by a chain and set it atop a table by the mattress.
Yes, if there was another girl, then the workload would not be so rough. But what could be done? Retire? Quit? Impossible! It had to be done. For tradition. For the stability of the tribe. Boys, of such need and of such virility, it would be a disaster to the social order and harmony if she failed.
And, anyway, she liked it. No. She more than liked it.
The boys were so different and she enjoyed getting to know all of the details. The peculiarities. It was a very intimate thing despite its utilitarian and, even, its mechanistic nature. Any other ordinary girl would have grown tired of it but not Katara.
She could not grow tired of it.
As if the titillation of the forbidden was not enough, it was the power of watching making the boys tremble and cry, almost like babies, while exposing their intimate and vulnerable moments.
Sokka was already in bed, in sleep. She did not want to disturb him but that could not be helped. The ruckus of her stripping out of her clothes, crawling into that mattress, startled the teenager.
“Sorry, Sokka,” she said. She kissed his cheek which blushed.
“You’re back,” he said, half in and out of sleep.
“Yeah, hm, I thought you’d be awake for me,” she teased.
“Well, I was, then I quit,” he replied, folding his arms behind his head. After everything that passed between them, again and again, he did not know why he could be so awkward around her. Maybe it was the bending? Maybe he feared she compared him to the rest of the boys? “So, how was work today?”
“Five. Just five.”
Katara settled her head onto her pillow. She thought about that moment she realized the gift. She remembered being a bit scared and thrilled. She was twelve, he was sixteen. Her mother chose the boy because of his temperament. Gentle. He would be understanding, her mother said, when she brought the two into the hut. It seemed like forever watching him remove his pants: he said he was nervous, too, but he was erect when he revealed his penis and she knew from what her mother said that he would have to be excited for that part of his body to be so big and hard.
“Wow,” she gasped when he finally presented himself. “What am I supposed to do with that?”
The boy blushed as he kneeled.
Those were the strangest parts of a body she ever saw. And they appeared to be huge but she was not afraid. She thought it was funny the way his penis bobbed up and down and the way his sack was scrunching.
“It’s cold but it’s OK,” he said, trying to explain why his sack was shrinking like that. “You can warm them, you know, with your hands.”
Instinctively she reached and palmed his testicles. The skin was lined with ridges and dotted with hairs and though it felt weird it was not unpleasant. She watched and felt his gonads pressing against his body. She giggled as she massaged the two, little ball-like things.
“Is that better, Koga?” Katara asked, looking up into his deep, blue eyes. She never thought she could be that close and personal with a boy! And he was becoming cuter and cuter the more she explored him.
“Your hands are so nice, Katara,” Koga moaned. “I’d love to feel them all over my cock!”
She blushed to call it a cock in front of a girl! It was so forbidden.
Katara could not remember the way she touched his penis her very first penis just that it was so smooth and so hard. It throbbed like crazy and felt it stiffen within her grasp. It was beautiful, especially its tip. The foreskin that cloaked its head.
He did not have to prompt her. It was as if she had been born with the knowledge. The way she pinched his tip. And massaged his head through his foreskin. And tapped the deep purple flesh slowly being exposed by the retreating hood a water oozed out of that.
“I am so swollen,” he whined like he was pained.
“Does it hurt?” she asked, suddenly concerned that the experience was not pleasurable.
Katara gazed at Koga’s face, it was priceless the way he looked: eyes wet, cheeks red, features contorted as if he were holding back something.
“It only hurts when you don’t touch it,” he stammered.
“Hm.” Sokka looked at Katara. “Daydreaming? You must be tired!”
Stunned out of the trance, she looked at her brother and smiled. “What is it?”
“Nothing, er, I mean if you are too tired?”
“It’s just my hand that’s sore.”
Katara blushed. She did not resist when Sokka pulled away the blanket. He was not naked but the arousal could be seen through the undergarments.
Sokka stripped and Katara stared. She saw his penis standing almost straight. Its shaft was smooth and its head was covered by foreskin. Shoots of curly, black hairs dotted its base. And though she could not see it she knew his scrotum was tight.
“It’s just as fun if you just watch,” he said and she recalled other boys, too, getting excited, growing erect, and ejaculating all over themselves just by letting her get a peak of what they hid between their legs. “There’s nothing wrong with a guy showing a girl how she makes him feel.”
“Nothing wrong at all.” She kissed his cheek and wrapped her arm under his head. “It’s always, quite, flattering.”
He gripped his erection and retracted his foreskin.
She giggled, remembering how she rolled back Koga’s foreskin that was when he could not resist anymore.
Koga took Katara’s hand and wrapped it about his shaft: stroking, rubbing, she practice how to roll his foreskin up and down his head while he was shivering, shaking.
“I can’t help it, I guess, it’s too intense.” He moved her hand from his penis to his sack. “Here, let me show you.”
Displaying his penis through different angles and positions, he show her how he stroked, he revealed the secret that up to that moment only the boys knew.
But now she knew! And what she knew! The boys could not hide anything, really, everything was out in the open. She knew what they did and how they did it and why they did it: for that one, single moment of climax when they could not stop or control what their bodies were about to do.
She knew all about that pleasure and how much they craved it and she loved that she kept such power over the boys!
Katara watched fascinated by the little, easy-to-miss motions of Sokka’s stroking. Things like how his foreskin covered then exposed his head, how it scrunched up under the rim of that violet helmet, how that clear, sticky fluid oozed like water out of his tip. And the sound of the flesh moving back and forth mixing with the whining of her brother.
Truth was that she loved watching the boys masturbate: there were so many techniques and she wanted to know about each and every one of them. It took her such a long time to master the very basic motion. Those poor teenagers suffered many a raw and swollen penis just because she lacked that rhythm. But she got the timing right eventually and when she felt her hand soak with semen she knew she was ready for the job.
Sokka was writhing. He was stroking so fast his hand was a blur and his penis seemed to be even bigger and harder than usual. He spread his legs, his toes curling. Katara knew he was about to climax.
With her free hand she grasped his sack. Just the feel of her palm against his tight, throbbing balls was all it took to send him over the edge. He squirted a wad of semen that splashed against her face. She held his shafted and stroked his tip until he dribbled the last of the load. But she kept stroking, giggling at the shaking and squirming boy, and he stopped the torture by clasping his hands over her fingers.
“You are so good at what you do,” he gasped. Exhausted, his exposed skin was a deep, hot red.
She blushed while whipping away the semen with a cloth.
“You did the heavy work. I watched mostly,” she said, hugging him.
“That would have been enough for me. Hey, it doesn’t bother you, does it? When I ask you for a job?”
“No, not really, no. It’s just a job I do. Just because you’re my brother doesn’t mean anything; you’re still a boy who needs it.” She grinded her elbow into his side. “And, besides, you have the most adorable nut-sack I’ve ever seen.”
“Yeah? You think so?”
“Just go to sleep, Sokka, you must be tired after squirting that all over me.”
“Sorry about that,” he laughed, “I was well, I really, really needed it. Katara?”
It was another job well done for the cock bender and now, at last, she slept.
“Hm,” he mumbled, “that’s awkward, huh?”