A Talented Beautician and Her Brother

I stayed on my knees, a bit in shock that I had just blown my own brother. Zeke also stood there, silent, transfixed and unable to move. He too was in shock.

After a bit of time I got up, found my panties, and pulled them on. Zeke remained standing there, perfectly still, as if frozen to the spot where his little sister had just given him the blowjob of his wet dreams.

"You okay, Zeke? I'm sorry, I got carried away. I was trying to get away from your rock solid grip, so I slipped down onto my knees, and then I was face to face with your gorgeous cock and...well, I guess lust just clouded my judgement. I'm really sorry, I should never have done that, can you ever forgive me..?"

"You think my cock's gorgeous?" Zeke said, interrupting my incoherent apology.

I looked at it. "Well, when it's hard, then yes, I guess I do," I said.

"I think you're gorgeous. Every square inch of your luscious body. Tiffany, you are one hell of a gorgeous woman, and a sexpot extraordinaire," he said.

"You really think that? You're not just trying to get into my pink bikini panties?" I asked. I giggled just a little.

"Yes, yes I think that," he said. Zeke took my hand and he led me to my bedroom. "Lie down on the bed. Remove your pink bikini panties," he said.

"But I just put them on!" I said, with a pretend whine. "Don't you like them? They're new."

"They're lovely. You look lovely in them too, but you'll be glad once you take them off, Tiffany," he said.

"Well, okay, since you're remembering to call me Tiffany. I hate Tiff," I said, as I slowly, teasingly, removed my panties. "Do you want my legs spread, too?" I was now on my back on the bed.

"Yes, please," Zeke said, and he feasted his eyes on my pussy. My legs had been together, more or less, of course when I was cutting his hair, and I had been standing, so he never had a chance, especially with the angles being wrong, to check out my pussy in any kind of intimate fashion. This was his chance, and he was making the most of it.

Zeke surprised me by going down on me. He was the first man ever to eat me out, and he supplemented his tongue action with one, then two, and then three fingers. He even found my clit! It was wonderful, and he was relentless, until I had an orgasm. My climax was not subtle, as my entire body shook as if I were having an epileptic fit or something.

Once I had calmed down a bit, I said, "Wow. That was intense, Zeke. My best orgasm ever."

"Want another one?" he asked.

"In theory, sure, but I don't know if I can handle...OH MY GOD!" I said, as Zeke's now freshly hard cock entered me. I had not planned on us fucking, but we surely were. Zeke was already pumping away! The definition of being fucked is penetration (I paid attention in Sex Ed class), and Holy Moses, Zeke was penetrating me alright. Boy, was he penetrating me!

He thrust his cock all the way down to balls deep and it was totally inside me. Nobody else had ever gone so deep. The sensations were intense, but my mind was going a hundred miles per hour panicking over the fact that we were committing incest, and I was fucking my own brother. I knew this was wrong but damn, did it feel good! No, it didn't feel good, good doesn't even begin to describe it. Wonderful, it felt wonderful, and in an intense way.

Zeke was taking his time, enjoying every single goddam thrust. I rose to meet his thrusts, too. We had committed incest the moment he penetrated me, so the die was cast. We were damned, so I might as well enjoy it, right? This was the benefit of my sex ed class, I thought, and I would have giggled at that thought if I had not been so overwhelmed with endorphins.

Nobody else had ever eaten me out to an orgasm and then fucked me. All the other guys had maybe fingered me a little to get me good and wet, and then fucked me. In contrast now I was fucking right after the orgasm from heaven, and my pussy had made enough love juice to quench the thirst of the Russian army. This was all new to me, apart from fucking Zeke, my own brother, something I had not even thought about, it being so far out of the realm of the possible. Or so I had thought.

Zeke was one hell of a lover! He knew what to do with his cock, and he mixed up the motion and the tempo, too. The other guys had all just pumped away, like metronomes. I had no complaints, I always climaxed too, but Zeke's technique was new to me and boy, was it good! Oh my goodness, this was heaven itself.

I figured it out. All my previous lovers had fucked me. Hell, they fucked my body, it just happened to be owned by me. Zeke, in contrast, was making love to me, Tiffany, his loving sister. Maybe that's why it was so good, so very, very good? Oh, my goodness, was it good!

When the time finally came, I screamed out my climax, and then I showered Zeke's chest with kisses. I held him in my arms. I never wanted to let him go. He was still hard, so I relaxed my post orgiastic death grip, and he continued to fuck me. Nobody else had ever lasted this long. He kept fucking and fucking, still mixing it up, sometimes screwing me, sometimes nailing me, sometimes fast and frantic, other times slow and loving.

I felt it building in my loins. At first, I didn't realize what was happening, since I had never before had two orgasms in one fuck, but it became clear I was building towards a second one! Now I was silently begging Zeke to last long enough for orgasm number two to arrive. He did! We even came together!

I felt Zeke squirt his stuff deep inside me, and as he did, I climaxed for a second time. It was not the Earth-shattering climax of my first one, it was smaller, but it was still wonderful. After all, how many times can the Earth shatter? Our planet is having enough trouble as it is!

Anyway, I love the feeling of a man squirting inside me, and I loved feeling Zeke doing it, too.

I was wasted. I was a wreck of a woman, as I lay there on my back, my legs spread, Zeke's shrinking cock inside me and the lovely weight and warmth of his naked body lying on top of me. The only word that came to my head was, "Wow."

When Zeke finally rolled off me, I said, "Zeke, I'm glad you liked your haircut. You really know how to thank a girl!"

Zeke smiled at me, and gave me yet another of his sexy kisses.

"Be sure to recruit your friends for haircuts, too," I said.

"Topless, right?" Zeke asked.

"Sure," I said.

"If you give them as good a haircut as you gave me, they might want to thank you, too, you know?" Zeke teased.

"Well, in the words of the great philosopher M. Jagger, you can't always get what you want," I said.

"Yes, but sometimes, if you try, you can get what you need," Zeke said. He loves to tease me.

"All that they'll need is a good haircut," I said.

"The way you fuck, Tiffany, they're all going to need a piece of your ass," Zeke said.

I threw a pillow at him. Very mature of me, I know. "Want," I said. "Not need."

"Touché," Zeke said, and then he kissed me again. He pushed me back down onto the bed. "I want you on top, this time."

"No, Zeke. You need me on top," I said, giggling again, as I climbed on top of him, noticing again with pleasure his gorgeous, erect cock.

I always try to please my men. Zeke is no exception. When he left the next day, he was mighty pleased, and I was plenty sore. It was a good sore. It was the sore of sexual contentment. It was the sore of finally having had your brains fucked out. It was most definitely a good sore. I soaked in the bathtub for over an hour. I could not stop smiling for the next three days.

Zeke spread the word. It seemed like every guy from my old high school wanted me to cut his hair, all of a sudden. I got a new bra, one that fastened in the front, and was therefore fast and easy to remove. I knew I'd be removing it a lot. Boy, was I right! I did impose one rule: no pictures.

It got tense at times. Some of my former lovers came for their topless haircuts, and well, seeing me cut their hair topless, combined with their memories of, shall we say, my charms and how they used to enjoy them, led to some awkward moments. Luckily, these were basically nice guys, and once I made it clear, very clear, crystal clear, that the rules were not flexible, even for them, things went okay.

It all came to a screeching halt, though, when my Dad joined the line for free, topless haircuts. I figured I now had practiced enough. I dashed off a text to Zeke. All it said was "Help!"

Why do people put their phones on vibrate? Zeke did not see my text until it was almost too late. When my father's turn came, I said, "I'm done for the day, Dad. Sorry. The offer has ended."

"Now Tiffany, is that any way to treat your own father? Look at my hair! I'm a mess," he said.

I had to agree. "Well, okay Dad, I'll cut your hair, but not topless."

"What? Let me get this straight. You're willing to cut anyone else's hair topless, but not your own Dad? Do you hate me that much?" he said.

"No, of course not, but you're my Dad. I'm too embarrassed," I said.

"You're not too embarrassed to show off your boobs to any man who lets you cut his hair, ANY MAN, but not me, your own father?" he said. "Half the men in town have by now enjoyed your boobs, and who knows what else, and I'm your own fucking father and I don't get to?!" He was angry.

"That's right, Dad. I'm done, no more topless haircuts. It's over. Finished. Finito. Sorry, Dad," I said.

"Well, I never...come here, girl," he said. My Dad is a big man, and as I explained before I am a little waif of a woman. He was too quick. Before I could escape his grasp, he picked me up and bent me over his knee. He pushed my skirt up and ripped down my new, pink bikini panties and he spanked me. It had been over six months since he had last hurt me, and I thought those days were over. He was angry. His slaps hurt bad!

"That's ten spanks. Do I get my topless haircut now?" he said, his anger, almost fury, dripping in his voice. I was scared.

"No Dad," I said, in one of the braver acts of my life. He resumed spanking me. Another ten blows and I was crying. He pushed my panties off my feet and unsnapped my skirt and off it came, too. Now I was naked below the waist.

"You know what I want, Tiffany?" my Dad said.

"Yes. You want to rape me, your own daughter. You should be ashamed," I said.

"So my daughter, the slut, the tramp of the town, who shows her boobs to half the men in these parts, has suddenly become some pious little twat?" he said.

I was standing there, naked below the waist, and I said, "I wouldn't put it exactly that way. I'm not putting out for you, Dad. Go rape someone who's not your own daughter, okay? And take your fingers out of me!"

At this precise moment my brother Zeke, my savior, burst into my apartment. (I had given him a key.) "Hi, Dad. What's going on?" he said. He was all muscle and menace.

"Tiffany won't cut my hair topless, so I gave her a spanking," my Dad explained, removing his fingers from my pussy. I turned around to show Zeke my bright red, stinging ass.

"Tiffany's not a little girl anymore, Dad," Zeke said. "She makes her own decisions. You need to respect that. Now go away, and don't come here again," Zeke said.

My father was staring at my naked groin. I was ready to kick him in the balls. Zeke was imposing, bigger and stronger than Dad, plus he had youth on his side. It was no contest, and Dad knew it. He gave Zeke a look that gave me shivers. Then he turned tail and left.

"Thanks, Zeke. You're my savior!" I said, and I gave him a big, sexy kiss. His finger went to my bone-dry pussy and unlike my father's fingers, it began to work some magic down there.

"Want to thank me the way a man needs to be thanked?" Zeke said.

"I think you mean the way a man wants to be thanked, don't you Zeke?" I said, giggling.

"Yes, that's what I mean," he said.

I have to confess, it was just as good with Zeke this second time as it had been before. Maybe it was even better. I knew, however, I had to put some distance between me and Dad. I moved to Indianapolis and looked for jobs as a beautician. There was a chain there owned by some rich guy, a Mr. Hodges, and I quickly learned he had a certain reputation with the women he hired. I understood. I knew what to do to get a job. It's not as if I had a choice. It's also not like I had never done it before.

I proved my talent by cutting the hair of Mr. Hodges himself. Then I gave him not what he needed, but what he definitely wanted. I got the job. I guess I'm currently his favorite employee, judging by how often he comes by the salon to visit, you know? I always giggle when he comes, and he gives my ass a little squeeze. All the other beauticians know exactly what I did to get the job. They don't hate me. They did it too, after all. It's just the way it is.

Maybe I really am a slut? I'll have to ask Zeke. He's visiting me here in Indy next weekend. He's bringing his friend Tate, and we're going to double date with Gloria, a friend of mine who also works at the salon. I should have asked Zeke: Who's to be my date, Tate, or Zeke? Nobody knows Zeke and I are intimate. I for one think it should stay that way.

I knew Tate a little back home. I even gave him one of my topless haircuts. He seemed very interested, to put it mildly! I'll bet he'll want to see my boobs again. They seem to have that effect on men. The date will be nice. Gloria's the type of girl who always has a good time. It should be fun. I wonder what will happen?