Her Brother’s Best Friend Pt. 04

Part Three Recap: Molly attempted to tell Michael no and earned herself an orgasm against a bathroom door and a punishment. Michael trained Molly to accept her spankings like a good girl.

Note from the Author: If you want a part five, please leave me a comment below!

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Molly had never shared a shower with anyone before. Water rained down from the showerhead and drenched her body, soothing and stimulating her naked flesh. Michael stood behind her, his front pressed to her back, supporting her. His chin rested on the top of her shoulder, his cheek brushing against hers.

His fingertips whispered across her ribs, down her stomach, then hips, following the curving rivulets of water that caressed her. He placed soft kisses on the side of her neck. She could feel his erection rubbing against her ass. She had never felt so blissful or so overwhelmed.

He reached for the soap and began lathering both of them up. His hot hands glided over her breasts, tweaking the twin peaks of her nipples. He ran the bar over his chest and abs. She took the soap from him and slowly, tortuously continued the journey down his lower stomach, swerving around his groin to soap his upper thighs instead.

Michael groaned, his eyes darkening. Her eyes never leaving his, her hands moved inwards, first around the base of his cock, caressing and cupping his balls, then finally to his hard-on. It was magnificent, standing firm and proud, a tiny drop of pre-cum oozing out the tip. She'd started to jack him off, hands wrapped around eight hard inches when the bar of soap slipped out of her hands.

Turning, she bent to pick it up, half-blind from the water falling over her. Michael bent too, grabbing the soap before she could and pivoting her toward the shower's bench.

"Stay down," he ordered gruffly. He soaped her back, then went to town on her ass, rubbing, lathering, pinching, and slapping. Her peach, still pink from the earlier spanking, gleamed with water and soap. Michael traced one soapy finger from her lower back down to her crack, following the path to her little pink rosebud.

She whined, swaying to escape his questing finger. Michael grabbed both her ass cheeks with bruising strength in response, yanking them apart to fully expose her to his eyes.

"Stop squirming, or it'll be more than my fingers," he ordered. Molly stilled instantly, little pants spilling from her lips. He slid his soapy index finger into her asshole.

Already slightly loosened from his earlier explorations, it slid in easily. In and out, in and out, he finger-fucked her ass. As the resistance decreased, he slowly curled his finger, widening it further. He slipped a second finger in, hearing her whine, but didn't stop, plumbing her depths until she could take both fingers fully.

Satisfied with her progress, he decided to torment her a bit.

"Thank me for playing with your slutty little asshole, Molly," he said. When she let out an outraged little huff, he nearly laughed out loud.

When she remained silent, he reached for the hand shower and switched the water over. Putting one hand on her back to keep her in place, he brought the spraying nozzle up against her slightly gaping rosebud.

"OOOOOOWWHH!" Molly squealed, struggling and flailing. "STOP! OH, PLEASE!"

Michael moved the nozzle, repositioning it so that it pointed directly at her pussy and clit. Molly's legs shook, and she shrieked in surprise.

"OOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHH!!! OH! OH!"

"I think you're a naughty little cock tease, Molly," Michael said over her half-outraged, half-ecstatic cries. "First, you take your sweet time getting around to jacking off my cock, then abandon your task to chase a bar of soap, displaying your jiggling, wet ass to me."

He began bobbing his wrist up and down, alternating the water's spray from asshole to pussy to clit and back again.

"And then, you dared to act unhappy when I played with your ass. When will you understand that all your holes belong to me, Molly Sue? Maybe when I've filled each one of them up with my cum?"

Molly was dangerously close to another orgasm, and Michael couldn't wait for another second to be inside her. He dropped the nozzle onto the floor of the shower and slid his cock into Molly's pussy. Molly let out a deep moan that seemed to go on forever.

Once he'd worked himself all the way in, he stopped moving. Silent, he listened to Molly whimpering. I wander how long it'll take her to realize she has to ask for it, he mused, holding himself back from thrusting by a hair's breadth of control.

"Puh-Please, sir. Thank you for- please fuck me. I need it, need it, need it. Holes belong to you- please."

At the acknowledgment that her sex was his, he held himself back no more. With long hard thrusts, he fucked her. Steam and the sound of wet slapping, punctuated by groans, filled the confined space. Molly came first and quickly, falling so limp that Michael nearly paused. He was driven, though, consumed by the idea of filling her with his cum again. Rough and fast, he took her for long minutes before finally coming with a mighty groan.

Trying to catch his breath, Michael slowly pulled his cock out of Molly, nearly flinching at the loss of her warm, wet snatch wrapped around him. He groaned again at the sight of his cum leaking out of her.

I'll have to bring my plugs over here, he noted to himself. He would fill Molly Sue with cream like a donut, and make sure she stayed full. She was his, after all, and slutty little cum buckets needed constant reminders of ownership.

Michael rinsed them both briskly and then set about wrapping Molly in a towel. She could barely stand, glazed eyes blinking slowly at him.

"Mol, are you okay?" Michael asked as she continued to stare ahead.

"Mmhmm, yessir," Molly sighed in response.

Carefully putting his arm around her, he guided her toward her bedroom.

"Have you not done this before?" Michael asked hesitantly. "Been topped, I mean?"

In truth, Michael didn't want to hear about some jerk-off dominating her. He didn't want to contemplate the idea of some son-of-a-bitch with his filthy hands all over Molly. The way she's responding, there can't have been many, he consoled himself.

"Oh, well, um," Molly looked down as they entered the room, blushing. "I-I've only, you know, done it, one other time, and it wasn't exactly- I mean, it was like, over really fast, so I don't really," she mumbled before trailing off.

Michael gently raised her chin with his fingers, eyes gentle.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he murmured, drawing her close and kissing her. Molly giggled, looking up at him.

"When exactly should I have told you?" she asked with laughing eyes.

Michael chuckled. "Fair enough," he replied. "Let's get you into bed."

Michael held a warm smile on his face, trying desperately not to look too concerned or triumphant.

"You're not leaving, are you? Sir?" she asked, her face tightening with worry.

"No, baby, I'm staying right here with you," he assured her. With that, they both climbed into her queen-size bed, cuddled against each other. She dropped off almost instantly, exhausted from work and her first proper night of fucking.

Michael could only feel grateful for the opportunity to process her revelation. His thoughts were scattered.

She's practically a virgin!

I was way too rough.

WHO THE FUCK POPPED HER CHERRY? I'll kill him.

It was her first time in subspace. There's a fifty percent chance she'll wake up hating me in the morning.

Who am I kidding? I didn't give her a choice and, my god, that's how I wanted it.

She's MINE.

And on. And on. And on.

But the thought that was the most insidious, that he couldn't shake, that, once he admitted it to himself, filled him with resolve was this: She was young, inexperienced, enjoyed domination, and had a long-standing crush on him. Her circumstance primed her for shaping, his to mold into his perfect sub.

In his mind, Michael laid out the baits and switches he had at his disposal like tools on a table. Absent and unloving family. Isolation. Over-worked and historically unambitious at school. Sexually unsatisfied. He had compromising photos and video of her and would soon have more. He would come with gifts, confidence, and, above all, attention.

As he drifted off to sleep, Michael smiled. By summer's end, he would have a perfectly trained, pathetically grateful cock-warmer living with him. He would fuck her and abuse her, and as he did, he would hear her say-"

Beside him, Molly stirred in her sleep, murmuring from the land of dreams, "Thank you, sir."

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Early morning light filtered through the blinds of Molly's bedroom, rousing Michael from his sleep. Waking felt sublime. He did not regret leaving the land of dreams; all his dreams were coming true already in the land of the waking.

Molly was still asleep beside him, her cheeks flushed, and her soft pink mouth pouted. He could feel her lush, naked body pressed against him. His morning wood flexed a 'good morning' to Michael, and Michael grinned and nodded back.

Most Saturdays, Michael crawled out of bed, staggered to the bathroom for a piss, and then returned to his bed to rub one out. He imagined the same thing every Saturday. He dreamed of fucking a sleeping girl until she woke up and came all over his cock. Often it was Molly, but not always. What mattered most was that the girl never gave her consent but also enjoyed it. Today he was going to make all his dreams come true.

Michael took great pains in the preparations. It was essential that he not wake her. Inch by inch, he spread her legs. With glacial slowness, he shifted his body over hers. He had to ensure that no cold draft reached under the covers. He had to place his body perfectly to find her entrance.

Once in place, he grabbed his phone. How she reacted to being fucked without warning or consultation, like a fleshlight at his disposal, would determine everything. He might be ruining it right here, right now, all for the fulfillment of his greatest fantasy. And if that's what he was doing, then he was going to get at least one video for the memory.

He started the video on her angelic face, the tousled brown hair glimmering in the sunlight and framing her visage like a halo. He captured her closed eyes, pink, sleep flushed cheeks, and slightly parted lips. Then, he panned, following the long slim line of her neck down to her collar bones, and lingering over her breasts. Her pink nipples tipped each breast softly, unstimulated and at repose. He filmed lower, to her ribs, her slightly rounded stomach and flaring hips, and finally to the nest of soft brown curls that lay over her sex, capturing her spread legs. Finally, he pulled the camera back and took a photo of his body hovering over hers, his erect cock aligned for entry. Then, he set his phone aside. The moment had come.

She looked so sweet, so innocent, lying there. Sleeping with him was an act of trust. Fucking her like this was an act of violation. He couldn't wait a moment longer; he never wanted this moment to end.

He had thought about this moment endlessly. Should he shove his dick into his victim in one, quick thrust? Or should he enter as gently as he could, hoping she would remain asleep for a few thrusts?

He lined his dick up and began to slide in with tiny pulses of his cock. The remaining sperm that lubricated her canal aided him. Biting his lip and trying to calm himself, he looked at her face as he finally slid himself fully inside her. She was still totally limp beneath him, her breaths rhythmic with sleep.

He shifted himself to find the right position to begin gentle lazy thrusts and reached his hand down to start stimulating her clit as gently as possible. He kept his eyes trained on her face, meditating on the moment she would open her eyes and find him balls deep inside her.

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Molly's wet dream was pure divinity. Michael was fucking her, but instead of the rough, thrilling railing of the night before, he took her softly, gently, like she was the most precious thing in the world. There was a strange lucidity to it. She felt she could open her eyes and see him above her, but she held off from that moment desperately. In her sleep-muddled state, the day before was a fantasy and she had likely fallen asleep with her dildo still plunged within her depths, again.

Except, she thought, cracking open her eyes and squinting through the morning light, a dildo can't pin my hips to the bed.

When she saw him above her, she gasped, and her whole body bucked, shocked. The sunlight shined across her face; he was a dark, unknowable silhouette, while her eyes struggled to adjust. A strange man filled her with his big cock, rubbing her clit in minute circles until she rode the cliffs of ecstasy, with no warning, no reason but his urge to take her.

She almost came then. The idea of being taken in her sleep sent her nearly into delirium, the sensations assaulting her senses.

"Not yet, beautiful," Michael's voice purred above her. "Stay with me, cum with me. I want to feel your orgasm gripping my cock while I fill you."

Hearing his voice relaxed her instantly. Not a stranger! Not a stranger. She was safe. It was Michael. He was fucking her with such care. It felt so good. She was on fire. Her hips matched his rhythm as she surrendered herself to the daybreak fucking.

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Michael nearly came when he felt her relax entirely underneath him. The sensation of her surrender to him was beyond anything he had imagined. In all his fantasies, he had dreamed up women who bucked and resisted as he fucked them full of his cum, he had imagined his victim begging for him to stop, her sobs milking his cock to surrender, he had even fantasized that she would remain asleep the entire time and wake confused at his seed leaking between her thighs when she woke long after.

But this? Molly Sue's immediate quickening toward orgasm, followed by the soft moaning and writhing hips? He was undone. He knew now that she was his, that she belonged with him. She was his perfect match. And he would keep her, no matter what the cost.

He leaned down and took her soft lips, swallowing her moans and sucking her lower lip. Adoration spilled from his lips as she fulfilled his favorite fantasy.

"So beautiful, so perfect, love the way you feel," he murmured, right on the edge of his release. "Can you come for me, baby? You're such a good girl for me."

He sped up his thumb, drumming her clit as he thrust into her more urgently.

"Gonna come, gonna, oh my God!"

Molly shattered around him, and he came with her, shouting his release and collapsing on top of her. He laid there for a while, catching his breath. Traceries of ghostly pleasure sparked intermittently throughout his body. Molly shifted under his weight, but her squirming intensified the sensations.

He flexed his hips, cock still buried inside her, trying to alleviate the strange aftershocks, but it only seemed to compound them. He rocked against her and buried his face in the crook of her neck. He continued his slight, rhythmic thrusts, moaning as he imagined his dick rubbing his semen thoroughly against every bit of her cunt walls. His half-hard dick progressed to three-quarters hard, and his thrusts became more pronounced.

"Michael, I'm too sensitive now. You've got to stop," Molly said, reluctantly. She hated to tell him no. She could feel that his cock was fully hard again inside her. "Michael?"

He grunted and continued his odd, circular thrusting.

"Michael!"

He was back to fully fucking her now. His hips drew o's steadily over hers. Buried within her with her hips spread wide, his cock kissed her cervix with each pivot thrust.

"Michael, stop, please," she said loudly, insistently. "Too much, it's too much."

Michael growled in frustration and froze, still inside her. He raised his head from her shoulder and glared into her eyes, their noses almost touching.

"This-"

Thrust.

"Is what-"

Thrust.

"It feels like-"

Thrust.

"To be a good girl for me."

Thrust.

"I'll stop if you want me to. If you can't handle my cock tell me now, so I can find someone who can."

Molly's breath hitched, her eyes filling with tears. "I'm really sore."

Thrust.

"So you want me to stop?"

Thrust.

"You're hurting me."

He paused for a moment as her tears spilled over and ran down her face. He kissed her softly, his tongue sliding into her mouth and tangling with hers. She responded, flicking her tongue against his.

Round and round, his hips danced. Thrust. Thrust. Thrust. Thrust. Thrust. Thrust. Thrust. Thrust. Thrust. Thrust.

"What is that?" she asked, voice quaking. "What is that?"

He kissed her temple softly as he continued to saw his dick in and out of her. Her moan started far in the back of her throat. Her eyes rolled back as her body bucked. When she came, it never seemed to end. She screamed herself hoarse. A wave of warm liquid drenched their connected sexes, everywhere at once.

She panted, and her whole body shook. She struggled to calm herself.

"Brace yourself, sweetheart," he said. With great care, he withdrew his still engorged manhood from her.

"What-what- did I pee? What the fuck? You didn't cum?" she asked. Her voice sounded distant and tiny to her ears. He lifted himself off her to lay on the sheets next to her.

"No, baby, you didn't pee," he said, his voice soft and warm. "You had a vaginal orgasm. And maybe squirted? I don't know. Never had a girl rain on me." He kissed her temple, drawing her into the circle of his arms as she continued to quake. "And I wasn't fucking you so I could cum. I was fucking your pussy again so you would know how it feels to come like that with me inside you."

"Why didn't you just say that then?" she warbled, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes and falling to his chest.

"Why couldn't you trust that I would take care of you?" he countered. "I'm claiming you piece by piece, Molly Sue, and I'm not asking for your permission. You'll have to either give yourself to me fully or run. I'll never willingly let you go."

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"Are you sure

That we are awake? It seems to me

That yet we sleep, we dream."

― William Shakespeare, A Midsommar Night's Dream