Little Things Ch. 01 of 04

A little gasp falls unbidden from my lips as he draws his thumb slowly along private skin deep within my thighs. Shit, I can hardly even think, I...I could pretend, yeah. But it doesn't seem right, somehow. I told him to look. This is me and him, him and me, Samantha and David. It needs to be true. Real. So my eyes stay locked to his as he presses forward the final inches, and it's David whose fingers press just before the hem of my panties, David who feels my hips jerk up, pressing hopefully back against his touch.

Crazy. Crazy, crazy, crazy - I shouldn't be reacting like this, shouldn't be getting such unbearable pleasure from my brother's touch. Shouldn't be panting for breath, my back braced against the arm of the couch. Shouldn't be spread so wide for his gaze. Shouldn't be so damned wet from his caresses - I must be soaked. He can see that, too, he must - I'd be embarrassed, if I had room for it, past the pounding need for release, my pulse thundering in my ears.

I don't care. Madly - I hope he does see, I hope he presses on. Fuck the boundaries. Pull my panties down, aside, tear them off me; I know you're strong enough. I don't say it - it's a thought, a feeling, racing between the crashing waves of pleasure in my head. Imagining his thick finger slipping within me, thrusting forcefully inside, pulsing, slick with my juices. Just the thought of it almost pushes me over the edge. If he just touches me - he must know, he must see...

But he won't - that fact sinks slowly in through the haze, as the seconds pile on and his hands remain carefully upon my legs, within the area permitted. That's David. Even now, he won't take more than is given. The self-control of a saint - damn him.

I could tell him to go farther. The thought circulates in my head, drifting like a mote of dust in the heady currents of feeling. He'd do it, I'm sure he would. But that makes the decision my responsibility, and somewhere my mind still speaks - I can't. Christ, I'm his big sister, I can't use him to get myself off. I shouldn't. I won't.

I need to stop this. Somehow - it will only take a few words, but even those feel far away right now. Finally closing my eyes, screwing together my own self-control, speaking - the words come out a whisper. "That's enough..."

He doesn't hear, can't hear; it's lost in my racing breath. I try again, hands balling into fists from the force of it. "That's enough!" Too loud. I feel a sudden terror that April or Marie will hear, rush out, catch me like this. Silly, not like I screamed it, but...

There's a fractional hesitation, a moment's reluctance, before David pulls his hands away. Both of us flushed, me fairly panting - god, this is crazy. My legs are still spread, arched above his lap; his eyes are locked on mine, and I can see the hunger in them, but he's waiting. Waiting for a sign, for direction, for...I don't know. I can't think right now, I can't. I have to get away, before I do something stupid, something we'll both really regret.

"I have to go, I..." Trailing off with a shake of the head, I roll off the couch, barely avoiding a fall to the floor. Standing unsteadily on legs that still shudder and twitch with the memory of his hands. My face burning; every inch of my skin feels hot. So wet I'm afraid I might squish when I walk. I can barely choke out a quiet 'good night' before beelining for my bedroom, not letting myself look back as I leave David there alone on the living room couch.

Need still fills me as I step inside my room, leaning back against the door to push it shut. The feeling of David's hands, large and strong, lingering. Stroking, caressing, squeezing...another twinge of sensation shoots up my spine, demanding release, insistent and urgent. I have to give in. My hand drifts down, fingers slipping readily beneath the hem of my panties, and I let out a little gasp as they brush upon the firmness of my clit, sparks of pleasure pulsing in my mind. So close...I close my eyes, rubbing slowly, then faster, and faster still, and in my head it's his fingers on me again, and I can feel it rising up inside me, powerful and wild, the explosion of ecstasy. I have to bite my lip to keep from crying out as it claims me, sliding down the door as my knees give way beneath me. Consumed by the timeless moment of rapture.