The Birthday Boy Ch. 01

Hi there!

My name is Emma and I’m 20 years old. I live on student accommodation, at a university in Perth, but I come from Kalgoorlie, a country town, about 6 hours worth of driving away. (Perth is a capital city on the coast of Western Australia for those of you reading this who aren’t Australian.) My parents live in Kalgoorlie, but my brother, Kyle lives in Melbourne, working with some sort of architectural firm, which is on the other side of the continent. This summer Kyle and I will both be in Kalgoorlie to visit my parents. I am excited thinking about it and can’t wait until the university semester ends to drive back into Kalgoorlie and see him. At the same time, I’m a little nervous. He has a girlfriend now, and I’ve seen pictures of her and she’s pretty. She’s staying in Melbourne though. I have only ever had a few real boyfriends. But last time when I saw Kyle which was three years ago and he was in Kalgoorlie for his twenty first birthday party; something very strange happened. This is my story of what happened two summers ago.

* * * * * * *

Kyle’s suitcase was still sprawled out across the wooden living room floor, with the top cover thrown open revealing various objects. Jocks, jeans, a bottle of cologne… I stepped my bare feet around the suitcase to find a trail of Kyle’s objects placed around my parents’ house. A notebook was on the table. I progressed through to the bathroom at one wing of the house that Kyle and I used to share between us when we were little kids. He’d unloaded a Gillette shaving cream bottle, an electric razor, and a serious looking toothbrush. He had basically invaded the whole house with his presence. The trail continued to my right hand side. On the floor was a thrown towel. I placed my feet on the floor and walked to the right hand bedroom. The door had a gap in it. I knocked, and then pulled the gap open wider. Kyle sat in the middle of his bed, with a book in his hands.

“Well, you know how to make yourself welcome,” I said, “I could tell you were at home without seeing you.”

Kyle looked up from his AFL (Australian Football League) magazine, as if he reading the final line of a football article came before acknowledging a presence in the room.

“Hey Emma!” he said, sounding excited to see me.

Kyle looked as he always had, but more mature. He wore glasses with a light square frame, making him look far more intelligent than I had ever remembered him being. There was an obvious resemblance between us. We both had heart like shaped faces, with misty blue eyes and large lips. His face always moved with explicit expression. Mine was more sober, but my smile was broad and lit up my whole face when I choose to use it. My hair was dark whilst Kyle’s was blonde streaked. Kyle’s hair formed messy, naughty curls, but not the tight crinkly type, making him look rather like a surfy, but he was actually a footy player. I was petite and slim for a girl, and he was reasonably tall for a guy, giving us a fair height differential.

A feeling of warmth came over my body. Kyle stood up and jumped towards me, putting his arms around me.

“You’ll have to tell me all about that Perth city of yours,” he snorted a little, “if you call that little place a city.”

“Hey! Perth’s as big as it needs to be!” I exclaimed, defending my city, reclaiming an arm from his grip for lightly punching his bicep.

He restrained my arm from repeating the blow by pinning it with his hand to my side. Then he distended his arms by his side, so that the veins extending around from his biceps to the knuckles in his hands became visible.

“How was Melbourne?” I asked Kyle.

Kyle motioned for me to sit on the bed beside him.

“Phenomenal,” he said, “I wasn’t sure I’d want to go and live in a big city; even Perth seems so big compared to this dump, but it was a good move. You should watch people there. They’re like rush, rush , rush…and the buildings…really originally designed…there’s a new performing art centre being built there…a bit controversial…I mean, things do look ugly half done…but I think it’ll be bigger than the opera house A lot more growth and opportunity. Not so sluggish.”

Kyle asked me how my studies were going.

“I was just about ready to pack it in,” I told him, “but only one more semester to go, then I’ll be working intern in a hospital for a year as an RN.”

“You should buy one of those nursing uniforms you can get in Barbarellos. You know those vinyl ones with the big red cross on the butt and the low breast line.”

“How do you know so much about nurses’ outfits?” I asked. “And wouldn’t you like to see me in one?”

Kyle’s lips bent upwards into a smile.

“All the nurses wear those at the Melbourne hospitals.”

“No they don’t.”

“Well, my ex-girlfriend always wore one around the house and she’s an RN.”

“I don’t’ want to know about your sex life.” I said.

Kyle poked me with a finger into my stomach.

“What about you? Don’t you have a boyfriend?”

“No. And I’m not about to get one.” I retorted. The one boyfriend in my sexual history had a fixation on his own cock and got off my wanking in front of me or the TV. I told him he didn’t need me for that. We never even had intercourse.

“What does it feel like to be twenty one in a few days?” I asked Kyle.

“Big,” he replied, “and I’m beginning to feel old, like it’s really time to think about my career and find a woman and start a family now. I’m excited about the party but.”

My mum entered the room.

“Well, I can see you two are catching up on stuff, but you can continue at the dinner table,” she said.

The dinner table was outside; a plastic table beside a barbeque. Kyle went and helped my dad turn take the meat off the barbeque.

I was watching Kyle. I was watching his arse, almost instinctively, but at the same time conscious and uncertain.

His arse was square and small, and fitted nicely into his slightly baggy denim jeans. They had a leather label stitched onto the top. His top hanged down to just below his belt line, it was a navy Rip Curl t-shirt with some darker bands around the arms. His body seemed tall; and athletic, as I watched his arms extend to reach the sausages on the barbecue. The messy blonde streaked hair looked good. And when he turned around, my eyes were then settled on the fly of his pants. There was a slight bulge, but I liked how the jeans went were baggy but clung onto his hips a little before flaring out. I turned my eyes away; now conscious of what I was doing. My mum’s pale cold eyes meet with me, and darted across in the opposite direction; as if she had somehow been mind reading and could tell that I had be observing my brother. Kyle sat opposite me around the round dinner table; and his eyes pinned mine down, and we exchanged smiles.

I felt disgusting. I knew that he could not possibly have any feelings for his younger sister, and I reasoned that I didn’t have any feelings towards him either. It was just in appreciation of the male form. And there is no genetic program not to. But now sitting opposite him, the squareness of his chest made me yearn to rest my head into it, and I yearned to feel his chin resting on top of my crown. And then a slight, but definite, tingle came between my legs. I felt ashamed again, and focused on cutting up the steak into square segments and pouring the tomato sauce over it in the most precise manner.

“That’s very neat,” my father commented, “all those immaculate little squares.”

I smiled shyly.

My father asked questions about Kyle’s job. My father was very much the man of the house, and liked the whole father-son bonding thing. Kyle was explaining that under his apprenticeship, he’d been looking at plans of future Melbourne estates; using various terminology I didn’t understand. Every time he laughed though, a band of white teeth showed, and his eyes lit up and his head tilted; as though tilting towards me. But I dismissed my ideas and thought it was just my imagination because I wanted his attention.

The mosquito candle my mum had placed on the table was melting, and there wasn’t much left as Kyle continued his stories about Melbourne and exchanged arguments about football. It is amazing how much and how long men can talk about footy. My dad, being a West Coast Eagles supporter, and my brother, being a Melbourne Demons supporter, had lots to talk about. My mother, obviously uninterested in their macho squabbling, began to collect the plates, and then as the flame died down completely and the mozzies reemerged, Kyle and dad went inside to watch the TV.

“I’m going for a swim,” I announced. In my old bedroom; which now seemed displaced, I found an old pink bikini. I had worn that since I was 16, and left it behind when I went to Perth. It was a pale faded pink, and had pink ribbon trims at the sides and holding the bra piece on. It went well with my pale skin and dark hair. I had a slim body; with quite long legs; but I wished I had a smaller bust. I admired myself in the length mirror in my room for a few minutes; thinking it was crazy that I was trying to impress my own brother with my looks.

Outside and beyond the pool gates, I turned on the pool light so that the water turned an luminous blue, and I could see the leaves of the palm trees my parents had potted in the pool side garden years ago. The air was still, and silent apart from the voices of people who must have been outside another house down the street somewhere. I walked over to the deep end of the pool. If I jumped in as fast, the coldness would be over quicker. I cautiously stood on the edge of the pool and dipped my toe in the water. Too cold. I stood gazing at the pool for a while.

Thumps broke the silence. Someone was running up behind me. Then I felt some hands around my waist. I screamed as I was thrown into the shockingly cold water. The hands held me as I came up and grasped for some air. He was laughing.

“Kyle! You scared the shit out of me!” I laughed between chattering teeth.

Kyle’s hands let go of my waist as he tilted his head backwards and went back under the water, came back up, spitting out some water like a whale.

We faced each other for a while. It was nice. The stars were out, and the moon, which cloud cover kept skirting over.

And I wanted to kiss him. His lips seemed big, and his teeth big and dimples from where he’d been laughing. He leaned forwards and reached his neck forward, his lips coming towards mine, but then stopped. It must have just been my imagination. I could feel my clit between my legs becoming almost painfully engorged. The moonlight was casting over his naked torso; which was muscular but not overly.

“It’s cold, I’m getting out now.” Kyle said.

I pulled my body out onto the bricks following him out of the water, and he wrapped a large towel around my shoulders. His hands touching my shoulders were driving me wild. I tried to look down at were his crotch was; to see if I could catch the outline of his cock; see if he had bulged. There wasn’t enough light and I saw nothing. I desperately wanted to pull his hand down into me, but couldn’t. He wrapped one of his arms over me and the towel, and drew me close to him.

“I’m so glad you’re my sister.” He said.

“Me too,” I replied, squeezing Kyle’s torso lightly.

With his arms around my shoulders, he led me into the house. I was becoming hornier by the second and just desperately wanted him to jump me, but knew it was inappropriate.

Inside I drew away from Kyle.

“I need to go do some writing.’ I said. I had been writing some stories and posting them on a site called literotica. But that was my secret.

“Wait…why don’t we stay up and talk some more?” Kyle suggested.

I accepted the invitation and followed him into his room. He held onto my hand lightly, and then spun me around like a ball room dancer onto his bed. He lay his own body down besides mine in a lazy way, so that his arm was pressing down onto my left breast. I was slightly cold from the pool water, and my nipples were pointing through the wet bikini fabric. We laughed with the excitement.

The door was closed.

I became aware of the weight of his hand on my left breast.

I gently slid my fingers through the webbing of my hand, and replaced it by his side. I didn’t want him to think I wanted his hand there. But I did. And I wasn’t sure how aware of his hand being there he was.

“It’s nice to be back in my old room,” Kyle said, staring at the ceiling.

I became conscious of a new weight on my right breast. This had to be a deliberate action. This time I took one my right hand and rested its palm on top of his hand, letting his hand sink into my breast tissue. I let my fingers play with spaces between his fingers.

There was a long moment of silence.

Kyle was moving closer to my side inch by inch so his body became tucked into mine. I reciprocated by inclining my head onto his shoulder. My wet and messy hair fell onto his shoulder.

Suddenly Kyle hauled the weight of his body up by his arms; letting go of the hand on my breast, and placed his body over mine so that he was lying on top of me.

I laughed with the surprise and excitement.

His face came towards mine, and I felt a moist peck on my forehead as he kissed me.

His lips moved down, and aimed for my lips. I could feel my lips swelling. His pupils were dilated. He wanted this. I cocked my head to one side to avoid his lips from planting on mine.

“We can’t Kyle,” I said, “You’re my brother.”

He relaxed his body down so it was lying on top of mine, pressing down just slightly more weight than what was comfortable, and I could feel his hard cock through his boardies digging into me above my slit; good, but almost painful.

“I am.” He retorted.

“Is this normal?” I asked, “I can’t keep my eyes off you.”

He aimed another kiss at me, and I avoided it again.

“Well, we can’t help feeling this way about each other. And we’re both consenting adults. We just code for a few of the same proteins, that’s all.” Kyle said quietly.

I pressed his biceps as if to hint to him to move down a bit. Move down into my crack.

He pressed his body down against mine, hitting my clit hard with his cock, sending shivers up my spine so that it was almost unbearable.

“It’s good,” I said, “very good.” My words came out as a whisper. I was embarrassed; but enjoying it, yet scared it was wrong.

“Can we go further?” He asked, sounding unsure of things.

I was becoming wet. I hadn’t had any sexual contact for a while, apart from the occasional self-relief sessions, and the idea of my own brother sounded kinky and was turning me on even more.

I gave him my consent by bending my head towards him and giving him the kiss he had wanted before. I tasted his lips, and felt his mouth opening slightly so I could get more of him. I pressed my hips upwards to feel more of his hardness against me. I wondered if my wetness was beginning to seep through my bikinis.

I shivered and became hypersensitive to his fingers fumbling with the ties of my bikini bra. I pressed my chest forwards into his body to encourage him, as my tits came into full exposure. My tits are well formed; they keep they’re mound shape form when I lie down; and the centres of them dome into the little pink nipples, which had become engorged and round with his touch. He felt around my breasts with his hands, and then rubbed and cupped them. I could feel goosebumps popping up on my skin it was so good.

I felt his tongue in my mouth.

Almost instinctively, my arm began to move, and crept down his abdomen, and slid under his boardies. I felt the pubic hair with the touch of my fingers; and then when I felt the tip of his cock with a finer, he gasped and laughed. I withdrew.

“No,” he said, “I want you to, really bad.”

I slipped my fingers back down touching the tip of his cock. I walked my fingers down, to where the softness of his balls where. I dug my fingers into them rhythmically, feeling the roundness and hardness of his testes underneath the skin. He grunted a little.

“You must have done this before” he said.

I felt a smile creeping on my face.

“I’ve had a lot of fine tuning with my ex,” I said, “he used to download masturbation techniques of the internet and print them off for me to read.” One had suggesting sticking a tampon up his arse and pulling it out. I had hid my tampons from him after I read that one. “He was a real wanker.” I concluded.

Kyle’s cock had become so hard it was difficult to believe that it was animate. It retracted and swelled in my hand as I moved my hand up the shaft tightly, and then I began to pump it with my hand.

“Do you ever masturbate?” Kyle asked me.

“You’re not meant to ask girls that.” I replied, laughing shyly.

“I caught you once when we were kids.”

“You’re making that up.”

“I’m not. Once I needed into your bedroom to borrow a texta. And your door was shut, and it usually isn’t, and when I knocked there was no response. So I assumed you were out and walked in your room. I saw your legs spread apart over the bedside, with you lying on your back stroking your pussy lips.”

I gave Kyle a light punch.

“Naughty boy,” I said, “You’re just fantasizing.”

“You were too far gone to know I was there. It turned me on watching you a lot.”

I was unsure if to believe Kyle or not. I couldn’t recall.

“So did you end up getting the texta?” I asked.

“Later I did. But I had to go and relieve myself first after watching you.”

I let Kyle fumble with my bikini bottom ties now. It seemed such a jigsaw puzzle for men to work out how to undo women’s garments. Eventually he worked out that the ties were just decoration and the halves of the bikini were actually sewn together and he could pull the bikinis down.

He pulled them down and off me.

“I always wanted to see you close up.” He said.

“I don’t want our parents ever knowing about this” I said nervously.

My holes were tightening as he teased me by running his finger down my abdomen, drawing a line dividing my body in half. It stroked through the thin line of my brazillian, going downwards and sat on my clit.

Using his full hand, he had one finger over the entrance of my hole, and stroked me up and down, thumping his palm up against my clit.

“You’re really wet.” He commented.

“Mmmmm” I muttered back.

His fingers were as finely tuned as a guitarist. But his fingers stopped playing with my instruments.

“Don’t just leave me in this state!” I gasped.

“It would be wrong to go further.” He said.

“I don’t understand what’s happening.” I said.

“Neither do I.”

“But is it good?” I asked.

“I’m not sure.” He said, my heart sinking.

Suddenly conscious of my shyness, I wrapped the towel over me, concealing my cunt.

“What we’re doings natural,” he said, “the royal family’s done it for years.”

“I haven’t gone the full way with a guy before. I haven’t had intercourse. I don’t want to loose my virginity to my brother.”

“Well, we won’t go the whole way then,” Kyle promised, “but I’d like to make you come.”

I felt small and feminine with my naked body against his.

He reached down into my cunt again, and teased me by dipping his fingers into my hole.

“Are you okay about this?” he asked.

“Yes I am. I want to do this.” I said.

“Relax.” He instructed me. I was scared we’d be caught.

I let myself feel the motion of his fingers against my body; and imagined what it would look like to see his fingers touching me. I felt the extreme tightness as my whole body began to become rigid and my pelvis tilted up into him. Then the new state of consciousness emerged as I let myself go, my mouth opening and tightening in pleasantness agony, my forehead tense. My muscles between my legs were pumping.

I let my body flop in exhaustion. I was breathing fast and heavily like a rabbit, my pulse was racing. He kissed and caressed me as I began to fall asleep, despite the weight of his body on my nakedness. I awoke to find him lying at my side with his arms around me like a bear. He’d covered me in a blanket.