(Almost) All The Way

I licked my lips seductively, my hands sliding over my breasts and down my sides as I arched my back and rocked my hips. I slid my hands over my stomach and down to my thighs, spreading them wide for my little brother's review, certain he could see the glistening lips of my womanhood staring back at him. Then I slid them teasingly over those same lips before sliding them back to my breasts.

I pinched my nipples, pulling them, twirling them, before sliding my hands fully over my heaving orbs and squeezing. And then I stretched my right foot out, sliding it between his legs and up to his crotch, only to have him brush it aside with his arm.

I pouted briefly at his rebuttal before sliding my left hand down to my pussy and easing my fingers in as I bit my lower lip. A moment later my right hand moved to join my left, attacking my clit as I arched my back hungrily.

Once again I ran my tongue teasingly over my lips. "Did you miss me, Little Brother?" I asked in a cracking voice.

His answer was everything I hoped it would be as he lowered himself to his knees and placed his hands on my thighs. And as he pushed my legs even further apart I shoved my fingers deep inside my dripping pussy and moaned.

"Oh, baby, I've missed you so much," I whispered as my hands continued their work.

For his part, Jame seemed content to just watch me squirming before him. And although I'd normally be more than happy to perform for him, at the moment I was in need of something more.

"Don't tease me, Little Brother," I pleaded. "Not now. Please not now."

He smiled. "Tell me what you want, Sis."

I gasped, shoving the fingers of my right hand into my pussy while my left hand moved to my clit. "Please, baby," I groaned.

"Tell me," he said, still not moving.

"Oh, God. You know what I want," I panted. "I want your hands squeezing my breasts, and then playing with my clit. And I want your tongue in my pussy. Please, baby. Please hurry."

He didn't hurry, but he at least began to move, leaning forward and reaching out for my breasts, sliding onto them and squeezing, massaging, and mashing them into my chest.

"Like this?"

"Oh, yeah, baby, just like that."

And while my hands were frantically working my pussy and clit, he continued to massage by bosom, continuing to play with my breasts like he owned them.

After what seemed like forever, he eased his hands off my breasts and down my stomach, pulling my hands away from my pussy and replacing them with his own, one on my love button, the other sliding easily in and out of my pussy.

"And like this?" he asked teasingly.

"Oh, God yes!" I gasped, my hands each grabbing a handful of blanket as I arched my back, writhing atop the bed below him.

"And like this?" he asked one more time, just before his tongue flicked across my engorged button.

"Yes, yes, yes!" I screamed out, thrashing wildly beneath him as my orgasm finally struck, sending those wonderful waves of ecstasy washing over my body.

"Oh, yes, Little Brother," I said softly when I began regaining my senses. "Just like that."

I eased myself up to a sitting position and pulled him up beside me. Then I slid to my knees before him and pushed him down on the bed. And as my fingers released his belt and pant button, I smiled, easing his pants down his legs.

"Congratulations on finishing High School, Little Brother," I smiled. "I have a little something special for you." A moment later I was purring contentedly with my mouth sliding up and down his wonderful cock.

* VIII *

My first week home from school proved to be a hectic one, starting with Jamie's graduation ceremony the first Sunday and concluding with an open house house for a few hundred of his and my parent's closest friends the following Saturday. By the time Saturday night came I was ready to sleep for a month.

For the next week everything seemed to run fairly smoothly - me working with Dad, Mom at her job and Jamie just bumming around, allegedly looking for work.

Tragedy didn't strike until Friday night, two weeks after I'd arrived home.

* * *

When two cops come to your front door in the middle of the night you know it's trouble. When one's wearing a suit, you know it's really bad.

"Is this the residence of Michael and Elizabeth Johnson?" the one in the suit asked after I opened the door.

I nodded my head uneasily, my heart pounding in my chest. "Yes, Sir."

"Are you their daughter?"

Again I nodded my head.

"I don't know how to tell you this, ma'am, but there was a tragic accident earlier this evening. I'm afraid your parents didn't make it . . ."

The rest of his words were lost to me as my knees began to wobble and my body began to shake. A moment later I was falling to the floor, saved only by the quick, strong hands of the Officer.

As they were helping me to the sofa, Jamie emerged from his room and started down the steps.

"Jenna," he asked, concern in his voice, "what's going on?"

* * *

I never realized how fast word gets around, but it certainly does. By 10:00 AM the next day both of my Mom's sisters were at our house, as was my Dad's brother. Somehow, with their support, we managed to make it through all the details that needed to be tended to that first day.

It was early Saturday evening when Chuck Martin, Dad's business partner, and his wife showed up. Dad and Mr. Martin had been partners since before Jamie and I were born. He and his wife had been there for almost every special occasion in our lives. They were the nearest thing to family you could be without actually being related.

There was about a half hour of the usual commiseration before Mr. Martin cleared his throat. "I know this isn't the best time to talk business, but there's a couple things I think you two need to know," he said, looking first at me, then at Jamie.

To summarize what it took him an hour to explain, Dad and Mr. Martin had several legal contracts and insurance policies in place which, in a nutshell, would both require and provide the means for the company to buy back Dad's stock in the company from his estate. The long and the short of it was that Jamie and I were going to be well taken care of - very well taken care of!

* * *

The funeral was Friday, followed by a gathering at Mr. and Mrs. Martin's home. When that ended, despite the strenuous objections of our Aunts and Uncles, Jamie and I went home together, alone in our home for the first time since the accident.

That was the first night we actually slept together, our naked bodies intertwined as we each sought comfort in the arms of the other.

* IX *

At first time seemed to drag, with everything I saw or did reminding me of Mom and Dad. Mark came to see me almost every weekend, and on the few he missed, I'd go see him. And of course, there was Jamie.

Our Aunts and Uncles made a strong argument that Jamie, at least, should come live with them and that we should sell the house. It took them awhile, but they finally came to grips with the fact that Jamie and I were both adults now, and that this house was the only home we'd ever known.

And although life would never again be truly like it was, eventually a new normal began to emerge and somehow, Jamie and I found a way to continue living.

* * *

It was Friday night, the first week in August, roughly six weeks after my parents death. I'd been out partying with my girl friends, not returning home until midnight. I entered through the garage and made my way through the house, finding Jamie watching a movie in the family room.

"Hi, Little Brother," I said, slurring the words slightly from a few too many glasses of wine. "What'cha watching?"

"Oh, just some movie," he answered.

"Mind if I join you?"

"Sure," he replied, a smile sneaking across lips in anticipation of the fun and games that had become a normal part of our lives.

"I'll just go get comfortable," I said, swaying my hips teasingly as I exited the room.

I returned a few minutes later, my short silky robe the only garment I wore, and slid wordlessly onto the couch next to Jamie, turning my attention to the TV.

It took about fifteen seconds for me to turn to Jamie and ask, "What the hell are you watching, anyway?" as the scenes from the obviously low budget film slid across the screen.

Jamie laughed lightly, shaking his head. "Just wait a minute. It gets better."

I looked at him for a moment before turning back to the set. "I sure hope so," I muttered under my breath.

About two minutes later the scene shifted quickly, moving to a dungeon-like room where a middle-aged man slowly paced the floor in front of young woman. The problem was the totally naked woman's wrists were in handcuffs and stretched above her head, attached to a rope that descended from the ceiling.

"Little Brother!" I gasped in mock shock.

"I told you it got better."

I didn't reply, my attention instead riveted to the screen. I watched as the man took a scarf and tied it around the woman's mouth, gagging her. And I watched as the man picked up a flogger and began pacing slowly around the woman like a dangerous animal about to move in for the kill. And when he pulled back his hand and threw the leather strands of the flogger at the woman's backside I gasped, turning instinctively towards my brother, only to find him staring at me with an up-to-no-good smile on his face.

"What?" I challenged, knowing full well what was on his mind.

"I knew you'd like it," he said, his smile growing measurably larger.

Like it? Hell, yes I liked it! Problem was, I couldn't admit that to Jamie; at least not without making him work a bit. After all, a girl shouldn't be too easy, now, should she?

"Like it?" I responded, feigning repulsion. "I think it's disgusting!"

But Jamie didn't buy it, instead laughing out loud. "Yeah, like I'm going to believe that my sister - little Miss Innocent - ever saw a sex scene she didn't like."

I crossed my arms beneath my breasts indignantly, turning my head away. "Really, now," I huffed, even as I squirmed uncomfortably on the couch.

The next thing I knew Jamie was reaching across my chest, holding my forearms captive with one hand while his other hand was sliding under my robe and up my thighs, diving easily into my dripping pussy as I gasped in honest surprise.

Before I could say anything, Jamie spoke, sliding his fingers in and out of me as he did. "Tell me, Sis, if you find it so disgusting, why is your pussy so wet?"

"I . . ." I started to answer before he once again surprised me, pulling his fingers from my pussy, grabbing hold of my wrists and pulling my arms apart before releasing them, ripping the sash of my robe open, grabbing me by the back of the neck and pulling me face down across his lap.

I yelled out, truly shocked at his aggressiveness as he pushed my face into the seat cushion, muffling my protests. Then, with his left hand holding my head down firmly, his right hand quickly worked the robe off my squirming body. Next he released my head, but my freedom was short-lived as he grabbed each of my wrists and pulled them behind my back, crossing them wrist to elbow, elbow to wrist, positioning them so they could be held with one hand.

"Jamie, let me up," I ordered as my naked body squirmed atop his lap. But he ignored me, instead working at something with his free hand.

"Jamie, I'm warning you." But even as the threat left my mouth I knew he wouldn't. Further, I knew I'd be disappointed if he did.

It was then that I found out what his free hand had been doing as he worked the sash that used to be attached to my robe around forearms, tying them tightly behind my back and rendering them completely useless. Once he was satisfied that my arms were securely bound he released them, only to grab hold of the excess sash with his left hand and pull it to the back of my neck, where he could keep my arms draw up tightly, almost uncomfortably, and still hold my head steady against the cushion. Then he slid his right hand over my ass, between my legs and onto my pussy.

"You're hurting me," I gasped, finding myself in a position I'd never before been in - naked and hogtied, spread out across a man's lap and completely helpless.

But Jamie said nothing, content to just sit there, holding me, controlling me, while his right hand fondled my pussy.

I gasped again, shifting as best I could to minimize the pain in my arms, back, neck and hair while maximizing the pleasure to my pussy.

"So, you find the movie disgusting, do you?" he finally challenged.

I somehow managed to nod my head. "Yes."

He withdrew his right hand from my pussy suddenly and delivered a sharp, stinging blow to my ass.

"Ow!" I screamed. "That hurts."

"All the more reason to tell the truth, then, isn't it, Sis?" And no sooner had the words left his mouth then another blow landed on my ass.

"Ow," I screamed out again. "Okay," I said, giving in quicker than I'd planned. "I liked it a little."

He moved his right hand back over my ass to my pussy, sliding his fingers in hard, and then pumping them in, then out, then in . . .

"Just a little?" he questioned in a softer voice, continuing to work my pussy with his right hand while his left held the sash, continuing to hold my neck against the cushion.

I spread my legs to allow him easier access, panting as the rash of emotions overwhelmed my senses. "Okay, a lot," I managed to gasp. "I liked it a lot."

Although he continued working my pussy, the tone of his voice changed noticeably. "So, you lied to me?"

"I . . ." I tried to respond, but he cut me off.

"You lied to me, trying to bait me into dominating you just like the man was dominating the woman in the movie, didn't you?" he challenged in a hard voice.

"Yes!" I gasped. "Oh God, yes!"

Then his hand stopped pumping my pussy, although he didn't withdraw it, and he spoke in a voice I almost had to strain to hear. "So, in addition to being a flirt, a tease and an exhibitionist, it turns out you're also a lying, conniving bitch."

I said nothing, knowing not only by the words but by the tone of his voice that no answer would save me. I had baited my little brother, hoping to bring out a different side of him. And now . . .

His right hand withdrew quickly from my pussy, taking aim on my bare, exposed butt-cheeks. The blows were hard, and they came in a measured slowness designed to maximize not only the physical, but the mental pain. I screamed out after every blow, calling his name, begging him to stop, no longer certain in my own mind if my pleadings were real or merely part of the game.

The one thing I did know, however, was that the blows hurt.

He stopped after twenty blows, releasing my head and sash from his left hand, before grabbing both my shoulders and pulling me up.

"On your feet," he ordered, giving me no time to recover, my body somehow reacting on its own even through the ache in my backside.

When I managed to make it to my feet he rose to his, moving to the coffee table and pushing the magazines that occupied it to the floor.

"Lie down," he ordered. "Face up."

I was so dazed that I didn't even realize I'd called him Sir as I acknowledged his order and moved to obey, easing my tender cheeks onto the cold, hard table.

Once I was in position he grabbed the end of the sash, slid it under my ass and between my legs, pulling it up so it was rubbing over my pussy and clit.

"Slide up some more," he said, pulling the sash towards my head. I hurried to obey, slithering up until my head reached the edge of the table.

But apparently that wasn't enough. "More," he ordered, again tugging on the sash. By the time I'd moved enough to satisfy him, my head was completely over the edge of the table, stretching my neck taught as it dangled over the edge.

Although he now had me in the position he wanted, he continued to hold the sash over my pussy as he towered over me, staring down on my nakedness as my hips began to gyrate, rubbing my hungry pussy against the sash.

But he only allowed me my pleasure for a few seconds before casting the sash aside. "Now," he said menacingly, "you're going to get what's coming to you."

I strained my neck to look up at him, seeing a look in his eyes that I'd never seen before as, for a brief moment, it occurred to me that my little brother intended to fuck me. And at that same moment it occurred to me that, even if I were able, I wouldn't stop him.

But instead of moving towards my feet, he moved to my head, pushing his pajama pants over his hips and down his legs as he dropped to his knees, grabbed hold of my head with one hand and guided his engorged cock to my mouth with his other.

And there I was, spread out on my back, my hands tied behind me and my legs spread wide, my head hanging over the edge of the table with my brother's cock shoved deep inside my mouth. Never before had I been so dominated, so exposed, so completely under another person's control. And never had I been so desperate to cum.

For several long moments he didn't move, content to hover over me with his cock jammed in my mouth until, finally, his fingers took hold of my nipples, squeezing them, twirling them, even as he began sliding his meat in and out of my mouth.

Even with him in my mouth I managed a groan as I arched my back, increasing the friction on my nipples. And I rolled my hips, searching for something to rub against my pussy, but finding nothing but air.

As he continued to stoke in and out of my mouth, I somehow managed a desperate, pleading groan as I lifted my hips off the table. A moment later Jamie answered my pleading, leaning forward to slide his hand between my widespread thighs and onto my button, stroking it as I pressed myself against his marvelous fingers.

I came almost immediately, my body going rigid as the orgasm struck like a tidal wave, rendering me nearly unconscious; yet still, Jamie stroked on, picking up the pace now, a little bit faster, a little bit harder. And while I was still swimming from my orgasm, he slid his hands to my waist, grabbed on tight and began pounding his meat into my helpless mouth, finally going rigid himself as he began filling me with his seed.

And then he leaned forward, resting his hands on the table beside me to support himself as he tried to gather his wits. It was several minutes before he finally backed away from me and stood up, pulling his pajama pants up as he did, and moved to the couch to sit down. And it was another several minutes after that before I rolled to my feet and joined him on the couch, curling up in the fetal position on his lap as he stroked my still naked body tenderly.

* * *

I awoke sometime later, alone on the couch; still naked with hands bound behind me.

I struggled to my feet and made my way towards the stairs and my brother's bedroom. When I got there the door was open, with Jamie sleeping soundly on his bed. I entered the room silently, sliding across the floor until I was beside the bed and sat down carefully on its edge.

For several minutes I stared at my brother, marveling at the transformation that was occurring in him. And I couldn't help wondering where we would go from here, or how long we could continue this dangerous game of ours before it jumped up and bit us.

I'd been sitting there maybe five minutes, these thoughts and more running through my mind, when Jamie began to stir, opening his eyes and looking up at me.

I smiled at him. "I need to go to the bathroom."

"So?" he responded, his sleep fogged mind not quite comprehending.

So I turned on the bed and presented my backside to him. "So," I retorted, "unless you're planning on helping me, I'll need my hands untied."

He laughed lightly, sitting up and reaching for the sash. Once I was free I stood up and left the room, heading for the bathroom. When I returned to his room, Jamie was once again asleep, so I eased in beside him, falling quickly asleep with my body draped across his.