Sister Mindfucker

While Christian and cousin George were playing a tediously long game of Mortal Kombat: Shaolin Monks, and Allison was sitting on the bed next to me, I decided to ask a pertinent question:

"So, are you both virgins or what?"

George glanced anxiously back at his sister - I don't know why, but they didn't seem to trust me.

"I'm not a virgin," said George matter-of-factly, if not especially confidently.

"Neither am I," said his sister, a little more embarrassed, but more convincingly.

"So I guess the four of us in this room are not virgins, right?"

There was silence.

"Is that right?" I asked again, and when nobody answered, I said: "There are no virgins in here, are there Chris?"

He was pretending to be ensconced in the game, but his red face said otherwise.

A few moments later, after he had lost his final life, he glared back at me as if I'd been responsible.

"Winner stays on," said George, triumphantly. "You're up, Allie!"

His sister took the console and switched places with my brother, who came to join me on the bed.

Christian looked like he wanted to say something, but he was too angry to get the words out, or perhaps didn't dare within earshot of our cousins.

The best he managed in a clandestine tone was to tell me I'd been pissing him off all day.

"And yet you're dying to fuck me," I whispered.

"Shut up!" he said.

We had to lie there for about 20 minutes, watching our cousins play the game in the most inept way imaginable.

Our grandparents would have exhibited more skill.

At one point my brother seemed to be looking at Allison's body. Her tits were jiggling around as she smashed at the controller.

"Perv," I whispered.

He made out like he didn't know what I was talking about.

"Are there any women in this family you don't want to fuck?" I said.

He glared as if to say shh, our cousins will hear.

"So the answer's no," I said.

George and my brother started reminiscing about an old platform game they had once owned.

"That was such a cool game," said George.

"The best," said Christian. "I might still have it somewhere," and he disappeared into the walk-in closet to try and locate the cartridge.

His closet is the size of a huge, en-suite dressing room, and filled with storage items belonging to the whole family.

He didn't return immediately, so I decided he might need a helping hand.

I entered the closet and found him around the corner, scavenging in a plastic bin of game cartridges and random electronics.

"Can I help?" I asked.

"Don't worry about it," he said dismissively.

It was sad he had such little faith in me.

I figured if he didn't need help finding the game, perhaps I could make myself useful with one of his other concerns.

So I unfastened his pants, and pulled out his soft dick.

"Stop it!" he said aggressively, but under his breath; and tried to zip himself back up.

I tried to prevent this, and a tug-of-war-of-fingers ensued.

I lost interest in the mechanics of his zipper and simply yanked his cargo pants and boxers down so that his little cock sprang free again.

I pushed them right to his ankles.

He was really mad.

It was almost as though he didn't want to me to play with his junk - which he'd been begging me to do for days, as you know.

So I dropped to my knees and popped the flaccid little sausage - all of it - into my mouth.

This shut him up.

It seemed to freeze him into stunned silence, as if he'd been tasered.

He stopped struggling completely.

And didn't move.

He just watched in speechless astonishment as his sister sucked on his limp prick, like a humbug, engulfed entirely in her mouth.

He came to his senses a bit, because he began to protest softly and try to pull away. But it was a half-assed attempt, and he didn't stand a chance.

I had him cornered against the wall, trapped by storage shelves on either side.

However much he wanted to pretend to rebel, it was an empty effort, and his pathetic cock began to stiffen inside my mouth, until it wasn't so pathetic anymore.

It had grown hard and delicious.

It was so big that I was forced to eject a lot of it from my lips.

But I pulled out a bunch of other tricks instead - slurping greedily at the tip, and bouncing his fat head on my extended tongue.

I don't care how anxious or annoyed he might have been prior to that moment. He was a helpless puppy again now.

He watched in wonder as I slobbered over his cock; our cousins just a few feet away through the wall.

He was getting so into it that he started to embrace the assault.

"That feels so good!" he whispered.

He was fucking my mouth more vigorously, with little regard for my own preferred cadence.

I could feel the tidal wave of his impending orgasm - apparently the same orgasm I'd been edging him towards for days.

His knees started to quiver. It might have been endearing in other circumstances.

"Oh fu..!" he began to say, which I took as my cue that the trigger had been cocked.

Pulling him quickly out of my mouth, I called out as loudly as I could:

"Allison! George! Can you come and help us for a sec?"

My brother looked at me in disbelief.

"Sure!" one, or both, of the cousins called back.

Christian frantically pulled up his pants from his ankles, and secured his hard-on back inside.

He was just re-zipping his fly when George and Allison rounded the corner.

"What do you need?" one of them asked. It doesn't matter which one.

"Could you help us get that big box down?" I asked, pointing to a random storage container on a hard-to-reach shelf.

"Sure," they said, and began to navigate the task of retrieving the oversized box.

My brother supervised the meaningless task.

But he found moments to glare back at me.

Lust can drive men to the brink... Even brothers.

Our cousins eventually placed a large, dusty pallet down in front of me; one or other of them coughing wildly.

"Oh god, no," I said, barely glancing into it. "That's old books. Put it back!"

Fifteen

My brother was obsessed for the rest of the day.

Wherever I was in a room, if I thought to glance over, he would be staring back; his expression a cocktail of lust and hatred.

The hatred so real that it seemed to magnify the lust, which only made him angrier and hornier.

It was like I was god and the devil at the same time.

I could tell he wanted to punish and control me; to pin me down and fuck me, or stick his cock down my throat and make me gag.

But in reality he was soft clay in my hands. Or more accurately, wet mush.

Much like my power over his limp dick, I was the only thing that gave him strength anymore.

He was like a cobra in my basket, powerless not to dance.

I'd never seen him so out of sorts during conversations with our relatives that night.

We watched a Star Wars film together as a family - which is, like, his favorite thing on the planet, because he's a nerd - but he was totally distracted and uninterested.

"Are you alright Chris?" I asked at one point, loudly, in front of everyone.

"I'm fine," he said.

"You seem quiet," I said.

I took the temperature of his forehead with the back of my hand.

"Stop commenting on everything," he said, slapping my arm away, "nobody asked you."

"Christian!" said Mom. "Don't treat your sister like that. She's being kind."

If his eyes had been lasers, he might have incinerated me with a glance.

***

By the time it was bedtime, I almost felt apprehensive about being alone with him.

He had become a little feral, and I wasn't sure he could be trusted to share a bed with his cute sister anymore.

How could I be sure I was safe?

I'm not going to lie... I felt a thrill at the idea I might not be.

I'd been making myself horny all night, remembering the sensation of his thick cock pounding my face.

Christian went down and got ready for bed first, as I lingered in the kitchen, picking at the last slab of lemon meringue pie in the fridge.

By the time I arrived, he was sat on his bed in a t-shirt and shorts, apparently waiting for me.

I could tell from the atmosphere that he wanted to hold a conference.

He patted the bed for me to sit down next to him.

"It's getting late," I said, breaking into a fake-yawn. "I'm gonna take a shower."

I had a deliberately long, relaxing shower, and then put on a vest top and tight, tiny pair of hot pants.

They made the outline of my ass almost entirely transparent.

I had an inkling this would finish him off.

I wandered innocently out of the bathroom and lay down on his bed, stretching out on my front, so that my bum would look enticing.

I started flicking through a magazine.

Christian didn't say anything, but I could feel him staring, almost louder than if he'd been speaking.

When I turned back, his face was pale and haunted. But he was transfixed.

I'm not sure he was blinking. There may have been drool.

He seemed to be shedding brain cells by the minute.

In a few short days, I had achieved something I couldn't get within swinging distance of for 18 years.

I had hypnotized him.

It was almost enough to give me an orgasm in itself.

But I fancied a real one too...

"You want to take a picture?" I asked. "It'll last longer."

"You can't wear those and think I won't..."

"Won't what? Turn into a perv?"

"Won't look," he said.

"Just look?" I asked. "Because I feel like you want to touch."

"You wish!" he said, with attempted snark.

The bitch was getting cocky.

"You're too scared to touch," I said.

"I touched you yesterday," he said. "So that's crap."

"*I* touched me yesterday, with your hand. You just let me. There's a difference."

"To start with. Then I did it myself."

"Listen to yourself," I said. "You sound like a dork."

"I'm trying not to cross a line," he said.

I laughed out loud.

"Good one! You spend the week exposing yourself to me, then trying to get me to make you jizz... But because you protest for, like, one second, about finger fucking me before finger fucking me, suddenly you're Mother Theresa? You've crossed pretty much every line there is. And there are more you're dying to try..."

As if to underline the point, I made my ass shimmy.

"Don't fuck with me," he said.

"Try me," I said, licking my lips.

Suddenly his hands were on me.

He was removing my hot pants.

It was exciting, if unsophisticated.

I wondered for a moment if he was going to fuck me, but then I remembered he was still a colossal dork.

He proved this by sitting back down.

Apparently any further act would require going back to the drawing board.

The foreplay was going to last several years if I didn't do something.

I stole the opportunity to entice him again, shimmying my now-naked ass.

"I know you want to taste my pussy," I said. "It's nothing to be ashamed of."

I think he suspected a trap.

There was one, of course - a huge, bear trap in which he'd been ensnared for several days, and would not ultimately escape.

But in that moment, I genuinely did just want my brother to eat my pussy.

So I asked him: "Taste it..."

Eventually his tongue took an exploratory lick of my labia. It was brief, but it sent me into a dizzy spin.

I decided he needed some encouragement if the delicious assault was to continue:

"I didn't feel anything," I said. "You can't have done it right."

"It tastes sweet," he said, surprised, ignoring me to consider his own foodie angle.

"Taste some more," I said, pushing my ass towards him. "What are you waiting for?"

This time he went to town.

He had no idea what he was doing, but he used enough variety in his jazz that every now and then he did the right thing by mistake, and it felt electrifying.

Although I did feel obliged to reach back and guide his tongue to find the hood of my clit; I gave a moan of appreciation to make it clear X marked the spot.

Now he became an expert.

I don't know if they would have been transferable skills to his career as a legal attorney, but he was exploring every inch of my snatch with his tongue, as if he was Christopher Columbus discovering the free world.

And because he'd learned to return intermittently to my clit, he was able to sustain the momentum so well that I began to worry I wasn't going to be able to hold back from having an earth-shattering orgasm - which I wanted, of course, but would have preferred he didn't know had anything to do with him.

I couldn't resist lifting up my shirt, to reveal my hanging tits.

He began to maul them, in between handfuls he took of the rest of me.

"You don't have to ignore my ass," I said, figuring he needed this spelled out too.

Then his tongue was slurping at my asshole, while his fingers rubbed my clit.

It was the best head I'd received from anyone, let alone a relative.

But he didn't need to know that.

He was enjoying himself enough, and didn't need further reason to inflate his ego.

It was the first time I had let myself slip.

I had lost some of the detachment I'd been holding in reserve.

But in that moment I was hurtling towards a visionary orgasm, and couldn't care less about much else.

My legs began to tremble, then quake...

I stuck out my ass to meet his face.

I started to cum in seismic shudders...

It was one of those rare moments when life is about as good as it can be, for around twenty three seconds.

But as the waves of bliss began to subside, I grew worried I had given too much away.

I looked back at my brother, who was grinning like a loon; his nose, lips and chin dripping with syrup from my snatch.

"That was amazing," he said, as if he'd been the one to have the transcendent climax.

"It was?"

"It wasn't?" he asked, disappointed.

"It was OK," I said. "For a first try."

I noticed his stiff cock sticking out the buttonhole of his pajamas.

All I wanted was to have it inside me.

But I needed to get a grip.

If I wasn't careful, I would sabotage my own master plan, for the sake of a master-bate.

"What do you think you're gonna do with that?" I asked with more traditional, sisterly disgust.

He looked despondent, but didn't put the thing away.

"Don't get weird now," he said sadly.

"Don't get weird?" I said. "You just licked my ass, and by the looks of things would like to stick your cock in it. But *I* am the one getting weird? Oh-Kay!"

"You asked me to," he said in a small voice, and tried to reach for my hand. "Come on Sara..."

"Woah! Back off!" I leapt up. "I know you're a horny virgin, but you're not gonna fuck me in the ass! I'm your little sister."

I rolled over angrily and turned out the bedside light, grinning from ear to ear as soon as it was dark.

I got beneath the sheets and pretended to fall asleep.

"I'm so confused," he said, after a while.

His voice was lonely and small.

I almost felt bad.

Was I losing my touch?

Did I like him? The dork?

What would it even mean, if I did?

That he was worth something? That I wasn't a total psycho?

To be honest, I still felt amazing from the orgasm, and didn't care much about anything else.

So I closed my eyes and drifted into the most replenishing sleep.

Sixteen

The next morning Christian was already awake and watching me.

He looked gray and tired, as if he hadn't slept a wink; or had been troubled by disturbing dreams.

His face was fixed in a frown.

"Hi!" I said, sweetly.

"Hi," he tried to say not-desperately, but failed.

I stood up to get dressed, but he grabbed my wrist and would not let me go.

"Christian!" I said. "You're hurting me!"

"I'm sick of this!" he said.

"Of what?"

"You fucking with my head!"

"I haven't touched your head," I said.

"I don't know what to do! I could hardly sleep... You're driving me nuts."

Oh God, I thought. Has he snapped?

Surely he'd made himself cum by now.

He loosened his grip on my wrist and I sat down on the bed.

"What's this really about?" I tried to ask tenderly - the way I'd heard other people say tender things.

"I told you what it's about. You've made me have all these feelings I can't control."

"I heard you say a lot of words," I said. "But I still have no idea what you want."

He moved in close, so that his face was in my face.

I thought he might try and kiss me. But he wasn't that interesting.

"You know what I want," he said intensely. "I want this," and with his hands he indicated my innocent little body.

"But that would be crossing a line," I said.

"I know!" he said. "I'm the one that's been telling you that! But you pushed and pushed. And then you got me all..."

"All what?"

"All horny!" he said.

"Finally, you admit it!" I said. "I was starting to wonder if you ever would. You've had a massive crush on me all Christmas, and you are dying to fuck me."

"Not true," he said quietly. "I mean look, I do want to do all sorts of wrong things in my head, and I definitely need to fix that. But most of all I want you to stop tormenting me. Like, please. If you have ever loved me. Please just stop tormenting me."

His eyes went watery and I thought he was going to blub like a baby.

He was at his wits end - or at the end of something, I'm not sure how many wits he had to begin with.

So I reached down for his cock.

Because I don't know about you, but when I'm feeling down, sometimes having a bit of a fiddle makes me feel a lot better about the world.

You want to know the biggest piece of f-u-c-k-i-n-g hypocrisy?

He didn't stop me.

He repositioned his legs to give me greater access, and went to pull his shorts down!

"Wait a minute!" I said. "You give this big Braveheart speech telling me to stop tormenting you, and now you're trying to get to me to play with your dick again?"

"I'm not thinking straight," he said. "I do want you to stop. It's just that my body is aching for relief."

His cock was hard beneath his underpants, as if proving the point perfectly.

"I don't think you should be asking your sister for relief."

"I know," he said sadly, and lay back on the bed, looking ashamed and tearful again.

I might have felt sorry for him, if I felt things.

But I quite liked it, to be honest.

The only times I didn't mind my brother were when he was sad, or had his face buried in my ass.

These two things seemed to humble him.

"You do know you brought this all on yourself, don't you?" I said.

"I do," he said, nodding sadly.

"If you'd been honest from the start, we could have worked something out."

"Honest about what?"

"What you really want."

"Which is?"

"You hate being a virgin and you want to put your 5 inch cock inside me so that you won't be one anymore."

"7 inches," he said.

"We're beyond that now," I said.

"I'll tell you the truth," he said, with a sigh. "I do wish I wasn't a virgin. It's not the most humiliating thing in the world, and I feel like it will happen soon enough, but I don't love the fact that I haven't experienced that with someone yet. But it's also super personal, and not something I should have to talk about with my sister if I don't want to."

"The Google Translate version of that is: you're a sad virgin who's desperate to get laid." I said. "It's nice to hear you admit it. But it's still only half the truth, isn't it?"

"What's the other half?"

"You want me to take your virginity."

He winced.

"Even if I did want that," he said, "I'd never actually..."

"You'd never actually what?" I asked. "Never actually stick it in my tight, wet hole? The same hole you ate out last night?"