Big Brother, Little Sisterbymistressdirrrt©
I'm home early from work, bummed because the day didn't go the way I'd planned it. The photocopier stopped working, the phone wouldn't stop ringing, everyone treated me like their slave - and not in a good way - and it's not even close to the end of the week. Sometimes I wish I could just throw my hands in the air and tell everyone to fuck themselves. But I can't. I'm the nice girl. The one who always makes sure her work is done before she leaves every day, and the one who always lends a helping hand when she needs it.
Then my brother appears in my doorway with a grin and a question. "Can I crash here for a few days? I just got back from London." He's a salesman, you see, and travels to far-flung corners of the world. Occasionally he shows up like this, unannounced, and I'm always happy to receive him. I live alone, no boyfriend, no husband, no kids running amok. I let him in and direct him to his usual room across the hall from mine.
He asks me about my day since I'm still moping at dinnertime. I explain and he smiles in sympathy. Later, we watch a movie, stretched out opposite each other on the couch, our legs tangled. It's something we've done since childhood and I enjoy the quiet comfort.
I sit up at one point and groan at the stiffness in my neck. I'm unsure if it's stiff from lying on the couch, or from carrying so much stress around. My brother 'tsks' at me and gestures me over to his side of the couch. I shake my head, make feeble protests, until he grabs my hand and yanks me closer, practically onto his lap. He pushes my hair off my shoulders and starts to knead the knot at the base of my neck. I let out another groan, this time of relief and pleasure at the feeling. He keep kneading, working my aching muscles until I'm all but goo in his hands.
Through the haze of pleasure, I tell myself his fingers aren't reaching too low over my shoulders. He just has long, strong, warm fingers. He doesn't mean to brush the tops of my breasts as he massages me so thoroughly. I remind myself that he doesn't realize I'm not wearing a bra beneath my lounging clothes and so he doesn't know I can feel the distinctive pressure of his fingertips along the sides of my breasts. I order my body to remain still, relaxed.
It doesn't work.
I can feel the warmth spreading from his hands to my throat and down to my chest. I can feel my nipples harden beneath my old t-shirt and when I glance down, I can see the obscene outline of them through the fabric. I want to cover myself but my brother slowly tugs me back against my chest and rubs his palms up and down my arms. I let out a sigh and lift my chin when he strokes a hand up my throat.
"Better now?" he asks me and I murmur in agreement.
He doesn't stop, just continues to rub me here and there, soothing and titillating all at once. This feels wrong, I tell myself it is, and yet at the same time, I've never felt so buzzed or tuned in to a man. He ceases to be the older sibling who pulled my hair and shoved dirt in my face. He's now a single man with magic fingers.
I think I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I remember is waking in my bed in the morning. Alone. I tell myself, it's probably better this way. I let my mind get away from me last night. I shouldn't have allowed my body's natural reaction to such intimate touches sway my thoughts. He remains my brother, and I, the baby sister.
Still, there is a dampness in my panties and I reach down to stroke light fingers over the swelling lips of my cunt. I bite back a moan that threatens to echo through the quiet house. I slide my other hand beneath my clothes as well and part my lips. I hear the sucking noise as the moisture pulls and then I touch my exposed clit. I gasp and bite my lip to keep quiet. But I play with myself. I must play because I've woken up from a pleasant dream that was unfinished. I need to stroke myself. I thrust two fingers into the sopping slit that is my pussy and I rub the clit until I feel the tingling spread even further throughout my body.
God, yes, this is what I needed yesterday to ease my stress. I should have locked myself in the ladies room until I'd cum, flushed and hot all over from the feeling of my body unraveling. Somehow, it wouldn't have been the same, I know that. I needed to relax, I needed to swoon under my brother's hand.
At that thought, recalling the way his fingers had teased my breasts last night, I cum hard, three fingers shoved in my hole and thumb pressing my clit. I twist and bury my face in a pillow to wail my satisfaction at finding this release.
Eventually, I turn over again, body humming from the aftershocks. I get up and strip naked before running to the washroom. My brother's door is closed and I hide in the bathroom to wash. It's only when I'm done toweling off that I realize I didn't bring a change of clothes in with me. I hear his door open and I know I have to use this measly, ratty towel to cover my voluptuous body as I dash back to my bedroom.
"Open up!" he cries and punctuates his demand with a pounding fist on the washroom door.
I shriek and open the door without thought. He eyes me and smirks and I feel my face flame with embarrassment. I rush past him to my room, not hearing the bathroom door shut until after I've shut mine.
Later, we eat breakfast, neither of us mentioning it. I brush it off as nothing and he certainly acts as though it was nothing. For siblings, I suppose it is nothing. But I can't stop the dull twitch in my cunt, that grows until I know I must do something different to ease the need inside me.
"I think I want to go clubbing tonight," I announce, to my brother's surprise.
"Because I want to let loose. I've always been so boring and staid. I want to be wild for once."
My confession surprises both of us but his eyes narrow on my face until I have to avert my gaze.
"You want to be wild?" His voice is low, a tone I've never heard from him before. I look back and see that his pupils have gone wide, dominating the rest of his irises. "More wild than letting your bother fondle you in the living room?"
I gape, shocked that he is bringing it up. Shocked more that he remembers it as I do.
"More wild than prancing around half naked and wet in a threadbare towel?"
I squeeze my thighs together and clench my hands into fists on the table. His eyes flicker to my hands and back up to my now flushed face.
"More wild than making yourself cum on your fingers?"
I stare. "How did you know...?"
He smirks and rises from the table. His t-shirt is loose, his muscles bunching beneath the light fabric. His sweats tent noticeably in the front. I can't look and yet I can't look away. I lick my lips as he moves closer.
"I could hear you. I had to do the same thing after I heard you moaning like you'd just been laid for the first time in a year."
I flush and tear my eyes away from his crotch. God, how I want to pull the prize out of his pants and wrap my lips around it. Or rub it against my tits. Or - God, help me - spread my legs and feel the cock head part my pussy lips.
"How long has it been?"
"What?" I look up at his face, looming so close over mine. When did he get so close?
"How long has it been since you came with a cock inside you?"
I shake my head. Not because I can't remember but because I can't think. I lick my lips again and before I can stop myself, before I can rein in my yearning, I reach for his pants and slip my hands inside.
His cock is hard, satiny smooth skin over red hot steel. I cup him, stroke him and all the while, I can't look away from his eyes.
"Suck it," he orders, as if reading my mind.
I obey. What else can I do now? The line was crossed already. Had been from the moment he arrived last night. No. It has been coming on for years. It's why he always comes to my house when he returns home. It's why I do my part to remain single. Well, sort of.
I suck the perfect plump head of his cock into my mouth and run the tip of my tongue over the precum leaking from the tip. Oh, succulent. I want more. I bob my head down, feeling him poke the back of my throat. I pull up, fondle his balls and then dip back down. He groans, fisting a hand in my hair. On my next pass over his juicy cock head, he thrusts, pushing past my teeth and almost gagging me. Oh, but it's so good. I want this. I want hands in my hair, holding me still as I'm used. I want to be useful to him, to my amazing, jetsetting big brother.
"More, fuck, yes, that's good!" he moans this and other inarticulate nonsense as he humps my face.
I take it all in, relaxing my throat and jaw. I lick when I can, suck when given the chance and stroke what I can't reach. He pumps harder, more liquid seeping from the head. I taste it and my eyes roll back in my head. I have to touch myself. I can feel my cunt overflowing with juice and when I stuff a hand down my pants, I cum at the first flick of a finger. I moan around his cock and he bellows as he empties his load into my keening mouth.
It's minutes - or days - later when he withdraws, still semi-erect from my mouth. I smack my lips and lap up all the escaped cum. He releases my hair and sits down hard in the chair across from me. His eyes when he lifts them to my face are stunned, but - dare I hope? - he looks eager for round two as well.
"Was that wild enough for you?" His voice is raspy and I grin, thinking it should be me who has difficulty speaking after having all that luscious meat stuffed in my mouth.
"Not nearly wild enough." I climb into his lap, exulting at the feeling of his eager cock rubbing beneath me.
With a groan, he lifts up from the chair, me clasped to his front, and carries us both to my room. We tumble to my bed, a tangle of limbs and flying clothing. When he touches me, bare skin to bare skin, I cry out and spread my legs. No more playing. No more testing the waters.
I want this. He wants this. And my body weeps for him.
"Now. Do it, fuck me now. Please." I don't care that I sound like a begging, needy whore.
I see his cock rising to full mast again and I know he likes that I sound this way, that my cunt is open and sopping wet for him. He likes that I'm his baby sister and that we used to bathe together.
Oh, bathe. We are going to do this again in the shower. Or the bath. And on his bed. And against the wall. And on every flat surface in this damned house. And every non-flat surface in the house.
He grabs hold of my legs and tosses them over his arms as he moves into positions. I lift my hips, moaning and begging and fumbling to reach for him. His hold tightens and his cock is rubbing at my welcoming hole.
"God, you're beautiful. I've always known you were beautiful."
I bite my lip as I look up at him, so powerful, so strong. He's my idol, my big brother, the one who pushed me down and then lifted me up when I was hurt. He'd kiss my tears away when I scraped a knee and he'd hold my hand as a friend called me names. And he wanted to fuck me and I wanted his cock inside me before I went stark raving mad.
"NOW!" I all but scream, lifting my hips right off the bed.
He growls or curses at me and then he's inside, sliding deep in a single, delicious move. We freeze, both coming to the startling realization at the same moment. Oh, there'd be no going back now. This was not something I ever planned to give up. This deep feeling of being full. This sensation of being stretched beyond the measure of all other cocks. He was it for me and I knew from the wild look in his eyes that my pussy was the only one he'd fuck again.
Then the muscles in his arms flex and he thrusts hard, our bodies smacking together. I cry out and hump back. He makes that animalistic sound again and starts to fuck me, holding my legs out and up and keeping me spread wide for his demands. I want this, yes, this, his dick driving me down into the mattress, shoving my breath from my lungs with every move.
He starts to grunt like a beast and I writhe beneath him, already so close to climax without even a touch against my throbbing clit. But I want to touch it. I reach down only to have him holler my name.
"Don't you dare. You're mine."
My eyes fly to his and I see him glaring at me like a wild man. I tremble with the force of his fucking, the feeling of his cock stuffing me like a Christmas hen. I nod and clench my hand into a fist against my belly. I'll obey him and not touch myself but I plead with my eyes for him to do it, to stroke me to completion.
He grins then, a feral look that twists his usually handsome features. I groan, feeling the orgasm closing in even more. He drops one leg and reaches down to pinch my clit and play with it. He rubs it, pinches it again and then flicks it. I scream as I come apart and he howls with manic laughter.
"That's right, cum for me now, baby girl. Cum for your big brother."
I can't speak, I'm not even sure I hear him correctly. My eyes are closed and my heart is thrumming in my ears. He fucks me hard, laying his body over mine so our sweaty skin rubs together, daring to ignite a fire.
I moan and clutch at his shoulders as he pumps away on me. He still holds one of my legs out to the side, angling his hips to drive deeper with each thrust of his hips. I dig my nails in and he groans in response. His movements grow frantic and I can feel the thumping of his heart on my chest. He's close, so close and I want him to lose control. I feel the resurgence of sensation in my cunt and I flex my muscles around his pounding cock. He hollers and starts to cum, shooting a stream of molten liquid into me that makes me ready to die from pleasure.
It's much later when we wake up and he rolls me onto my stomach this time. I let him and lift my ass in supplication. He whacks it once and smooths the hurt with his palm. His cock pokes into my cunt from behind and I sigh in contentment as he slips all the way in. I'm so slippery from our first time and from wicked dreams of all we'd do to each other from now on. He fucks me long and slow this time, sometimes resting his belly against my round ass and sometimes propping himself up for better leverage. He goes so deep, and hits me in all the right places and all I can think is that it's amazing it's taken us this long.
We've always known each other better than everyone else. We know each other's heartaches and smiles and this was inevitable.
Just as the time in the shower is inevitable. And the one in the hallway, where he just can't wait to get me into bed so he takes me like a rutting bull on the floor. Or the time in the kitchen where I ride him on the chair and scream when he bites one nipple to make me cum.
Mostly, I just like that he never stops telling me what to do. How can I argue? He's my big brother and big brother always knows best.