The Bet

When I still lived in the house Sara would purposely flirt with her boyfriend in front of me, especially when I was not seeing anyone. Sort of rub it in. I never felt like I would do anything, but I always did feel she was flirting with ME when she did that. Maybe it was more playful than mean.

When it got late, she would feign sleepiness, laying on the sofa disheveled, and her boyfriend would start to basically molest her. Rub her tits or put his hand under his dress, the whole time I am right there. After a bit he'd carry her to her room over his shoulder, and as he'd walk by make some perverted comment to me. But when he got past she would lift her head, peek open her eyes and look at me over his shoulder, as he took her down the hall. Stuff like that.

She would leave her bedroom door open and start making out with her various boyfriends, KNOWING that if I wanted I could see. And sometimes I would peek, you know. Watch them.

That was awhile ago. But she is anything but innocent, so what was I supposed to think tonight when she makes this bet? Owning me! If she wins she owns me, and accepting my side of the bet if I won. Leaning up against me during the game. Rubbing against me. You know??

She had a way of exposing herself, an exhibitionist. The bathroom door had a way of being ajar at just the right moments when mom and dad were gone, and she was showering, putting her make up on in bra and panties. Kid stuff, but still. As I grew older, being so much older than her, we did grow apart, but she kept getting older and gradually we came back together, and now we are this pair of adults who are almost like meeting each other again.

Now we have the game. She wants to hang out with me, by definition it means she does like me.

--

So she is next to me wriggling around, letting me lay my hand on her thigh (no big deal, but the way she reacted). Leaning against me, squeezing her thighs, sighing and carrying on. She was getting me kind of hot, and I was starting to get an erection and she had to have noticed that. So winning the bet, I own her now, and the games WE were playing. I thought, what the hell. Go for it.

It was a test. Are we thinking the same thing, and then she goes all church lady. Though to be fair, she probably wasn't thinking the same thing in the same ways, and I was over the top anyways.

But. Now I am back again. She wanted me to do that, everything signaled it. I was not going to do anything more. Feel her up, maybe kiss a little, like what she would show me when she left her room ajar. My little girl, I was going to call her. But, here's the deal. She actually RAISED the stakes. I was going to cop a feel, and when that was not OK I just, you know, wanted to SEE her tits. She is the one who came over in that jersey with no bra. I noticed that right off.

So what am I supposed to think? Would she let me see? Maybe I was going too far, but maybe not TOO far.

And SHE is the one who raised the stakes. She is the one who took her shorts and panties off, left them in the room here.

Shit. Crazy shit. Standing there in just that fucking jersey. What am I supposed to think? She was such a tease. Always such a tease.

----------------------

I did exactly what I said I did and went into the kitchen. I knew right away I was going to make chili cause I am good at that and it is easy and I know that David has everything for it. So reaching for the pot, my arms go up and I am like Whoah! The jersey goes right up and I can feel my butt exposed. Shit, this thing is short. And I laugh, I am very tipsy at this point.

I look back at the door, tugging the jersey over my swaying ass, did he see? And I walk over and look at the cans of diced tomatoes, they are on a higher shelf and I am feeling perfectly wicked. I look back at the door and he is still not there and I almost want to wait, but then do not. I reach up and can feel the bottom of my jersey rise and god it is making me hot!

With the stove going I finally hear him come in the kitchen.

"What are you making?"

"Chili."

He snorts, and I feel him looking at me. I don't look back and keep my arms down. I feel so fucking naked just then. And my thoughts swimming. I run through my head - he OWNS me.

My breath was caught in my throat, and finally I looked back straight into his eyes feeling utterly exposed, naked under his piercing stare. Which makes me kind of, I don't know, scared AND angry. It is sort of like fight or flight.

So I say, "What?" And turn back and try to act as if nothing unusual was happening.

I could hear him move a bit closer. I was browning the meat, and mixing in the onions. I ask in a nonchalant voice, "Could you get me the beans?" The cupboard door was open and those cans were also on the top shelf. It had to be obvious what reaching for them would do.

He says, "No. You have to do everything."

I blushed deep, and looking back, padded over to the cupboard. Standing there in my bare feet, "You have to turn away."

"Why?"

I was speechless, he WANTED to see. The feelings are indescribable. Groping me, trying to get my jersey off. I felt so guilty, imagining what my confession would be next week. Now, there was another emotion closely following my wave of guilt. My body was shaking, my breath coming out in gasps, and it wasn't just because of the whiskey. I felt hot, feverish. I was all swollen and achy between the legs. I didn't know whether I wanted to hit him or whether I wanted him to just push me up against the wall, and kiss me. God. What is happening? I was so fucking aroused. I could feel my heart beating. I did not look at him and simply reached, reached and took the can.

So he saw my butt, so what?

What the hell was going on with me??!! This was my brother. I knew I shouldn't be turned on by knowing he'd seen me naked, How he watched me. I exposed myself. I should be disgusted. But I wasn't. I was dying inside from this torment. And his footsteps grew closer. I covered my eyes with my hands a moment. Rinsing the beans, my hands trembled.

---

Then he said, "Actually, your my good little girl when you do what I ask."

There was something that shifted. It was like a wave that moved through me. I kept rinsing and moved to the stove, he was standing right behind me. My thoughts went like this: 'I will do whatever you ask, be your good little girl, your bad girl, whatever. Ask and you shall receive.' It felt so complete, this is what ownership feels like.

He moved a little closer, and lay his hand at my back, and I turned myself back and forth. Sort of a motion to shake him off. He responded by simply holding his hand in one place, right at the center of my low back. Fuck. I had nothing on under this thing, and here he was touching me. Feeling me.

His good little girl.

My mind was blank, and I had no idea what to say or do, or anything. I was just stirring the chili.

What I said was, "I am a huge fan of cheesecake." With that his fingers began to move. I continued, "I wish I could make some for desert. Cheesecake, to me, is the most sensual, fucking incredibly sexy food there is. Taste, texture, everything. It's orgasmic."

"You should make some, sometime."

"Hmm."

His hands were down near my hips, his thumb rubbing over my ass, I waggled my butt. A sort of motion to shake him off, but now just a reflex. I was letting him.

I said, "You shouldn't be doing that." No answer. "Even if you do own me." When his hand got close to the hem, I said, "You have to stay on the jersey."

"You have a lot of rules little girl." And he let go. "You want anything else to drink?"

"I think I'm bad enough as it is. I'll be horrified with myself tomorrow."

"How abut a ... A rum and coke?"

Shit. Which is the most fucking wonderful thing in the world. I paused.

"A rum and coke? OK. I think a rum and coke AND cheesecake is the most fucking wonderful thing in the world."

He made me a rum and coke, set it beside me.

"I'll set the table."

"OK."

The room got quiet and I looked around. Lights in the other rooms were off. It was all so romantic somehow. Just us, a beautiful Saturday. The smell of warm food, the light fading outside. His good little girl.

I kept thinking that.

He was getting the plates, and I did say, "David? He looked at me. "Do you think brothers and sisters can be friends, like this, like whatever we are? This isn't too weird is it?"

He had the plates and was getting the cups, not saying anything. He left the room. I was thinking this through, sipping my rum and coke. I did not like waiting. Was he thinking about it? I had to fill the silence so I added, "I'm sorry, I'm being a girl. I don't mind this right now, Should I?"

He was back in the kitchen, "Do you trust me?"

I was surprised, turning his way. I said, "Yes."

"Then you have nothing to worry about. It's nice. I like you, we are friends. Friends. I like that you like coming over and being with me."

"I can keep doing that?"

"Of course."

"I mean..." I turned away again. Embarrassed.

"Sara. There is no 'romance' in my life, no small moments. And I'm not saying there is ANYTHING between us, but I do like you, as a person. Right now, today, this week, this month, you are the best thing that has happened. Making chili, watching a game, drinking beer with you. Making a silly bet. It's just us. Tonight, I own...yeah. You. Your my good little girl, tonight. Trust me. Just be your sweet little self, and maybe a little bit naughty little self. You've always had a touch of that anyway."

I looked back. "Me?"

"Your boyfriends, carrying you to your room. Pretending to be asleep." She laughed put her head down. "I'm not surprised. You probably have all kinds of boys after you. Sara, you are one of the most beautiful girls I know. Some guy will be really lucky."

It got me, that's for sure. No one had EVER been this sweet to me, EVER.

"I haven't had a boyfriend in quite awhile actually."

He was in the dining room now.

I was thinking about his hand at my back, and I wanted it there again. I had shooed him away. I just knew he really knew how to touch a woman, make her feel good, take his time.

Was he seducing me?

I felt a little bit scared. He was good at touching me, with his words. And its true, I want something, too. IT, so bad. But this can't be IT. Is there anything I could do to change this? Was this a mistake? I wanted to be his, and tonight I was.

I was very confused and conflicted.

And horny.

--------------------------

When he came back in, I looked and smiled at him. He put his hands on me again and I made no move.

"The chili is almost ready."

I could hear is breath, could feel him there, just a foot or so away.

"You are beautiful."

The words were drawn out slow and lingering.

His hands rubbed down the center of my back, starting at my shoulders down to the top of my butt and back up again, fabric sliding slightly on my skin. He reached his hand around me in an embrace and I felt his fingers cross my stomach, rising up to cup my breasts. The second time today. He found my nipples, tightening under his touch and my head drops, and I let out this moan.

Is this happening?

His voice is soft, "Why didn't you wear a bra today?" I just shrugged. I didn't know. "I did notice."

"Oh David, what are you doing?"

"Touching you. Nothing but that. Is this OK?"

"Nice. Feels nice."

All I could think to say. And I felt like I owed it to him, for being so sweet. His hand retreated again, but only just - it still was lingering at my hip as I finished. Rubbing down my sides, looking at me, contemplating. I could feel his desire, how he wanted more. I felt so fucking desired.

I moved to the counter and poured the chili into a bowl for the table. He followed me. I imagined how hard he was.

His hand took the edge of my jersey and I felt him lift.

"David?"

It came out as a question. I was letting him, could not believe what I was letting him do.

It was hard to focus, hard to speak. He was so nice, soft, good. I did not move at all, my resistance was melting away. I was so aroused, so desirous. Suddenly exposed, the cool air on my bare ass, and his fingers now touching right at the top of my thigh between my legs. So close. So tantalizingly close. I could feel his fingers brush the hairs of my puss.

"Mmph." I groaned a little. It was too much. I arched my back and turned round to face him. His hand falling away. Too good. Too fucking good.

All I could manage to say was, "David. The chili is ready."

"I have the table all set."

-------------------------------------

He took the chili, and I was getting the saltine crackers, some cheese and sour cream. And yes, reaching recklessly for them letting my jersey rise. It didn't feel as if it exactly mattered anymore. No idea what was happening, but not wanting it to end. My David was entering my skin, and I had no ideas. We were still in 'safe' territory I guess, but my thoughts, my wandering thoughts were like this:

'I would LOVE to make out with you, just sit on your lap and kiss you, run my fingers over your skin, kiss your forehead, your eyelids, that little spot on your cheekbone, up by the corner of your eye'

'I would give you little, light kisses right there. Nibble your ear. All innocent. Kiss your neck, your shoulder, that spot in between. Bury my face there, like a little girl. Your little girl, all yours. Press the tip of my nose against the tip of yours, then tilt my head in to kiss you. Suck your bottom lip. Smile at you. Run my fingers through your hair'

And then my thoughts continued:

'What would it feel like to have you lay on top of me, press your weight down. Oh!! To feel your weight on me. Tell you to kiss my breasts through my shirt. Wrap my arms around your neck. Rub your back. Feel you pressing your thigh in between my legs, hold it tight up against my sex, the way I love. Just lose myself'

Finally, padding out of the kitchen:

'I want to be in bed with you, just kissing, touching, learning your body'

--------------------------------------

He had the chairs moved all to one side of the table, and both bowls in front of him. He had already dished the chili. The lights were out, and three candles were lit running down the center of the table. I turned out the kitchen light. Darkness but for candle light.

He caught my eye.

"Sit down."

I paused, taking it all in.

"Sit." I did and he continued. "I want to feed you."

I wanted to say, 'I can feed myself.' But what I did was sit down in the chair as he had placed it; facing him, with my knees open. He put in some cheese and sour cream into each bowl and stirred it a little. We had our drinks.

"Keep your hands by your side, right against the back of the chair. Let me take care of you." When I sat that way, arms along the back of the chair gripping the seat, the feeling was amazing. He said, "Don't move your hands."

The feeling was one of being tied there.

I leaned forward, holding my wrists at the back of the chair, still gripping the seat. He fed me small spoonfuls as I opened my mouth, closing my lips around the spoon. He was watching my mouth, my tongue catching the drips, feeding me. For just then it was so sensual, like nothing I had ever experienced. I have no idea why. Slowly, we ate, and if I wanted a drink he would put the glass to my lips. While he ate, I waited for him. I was utterly dependent. Each spoon was from him. His little girl. His good little girl. He fed me slow and sweet, his eyes on me.

As I sat there, he would pause. Setting down the spoon to run his fingers over my breasts, cover my neck with the palm of his hand; my eyes following his movements as he fed me, fondled me, touched me in the soft candle light.

As we ate he was also sliding my jersey higher, higher, higher, until I know he could see my little bush. My dark bush, such a mess! A very messy little affair, all tangles and cowlicks. Set low down between my legs. My little leaking clam shell peeking out between my legs. I was letting him do anything.

We felt close, intimate, this wave of love. Desire. Our connection was complete.

He says, "We don't have any cheesecake tonight. But I have an idea for desert."

I was looking at him, silent. My hear patting away. He stood up. I thought he was going to go into the kitchen. He paused.

He looks at me, my head is tilted up. "Tonight, Tonight, I own you."

His hand was going to his fly.

I am like, oh, no. no! My heart fluttering. Oh god. Hanging on to the chair!

He continues, "Yes? Tonight?" It was a question.

I meet his eyes and say, "Yes."

I watch David in the flickering light as if I were floating to the ceiling. He zips down his fly, opening his pants. I watch it disinterestedly, staring at his cock, at his open fly. I close my eyes. I cannot believe what I am seeing. I don't move at all, my hands at my side against the back of my chair.

Bound.

In a small voice I say, "Looks like someone else has to take their pants off tonight."

He stood back slips off his jeans and stands naked, his cock poking out from beneath his T shirt. A dark shock of hair at its base. A small glistening drop at the end.

I lean forward as he moves closer and kis the tip, a warm, lightly sucking kiss, moving my lips down, giving little sucking kisses all the way down the vein on the underside of his cock.

Thinking how I wanted it inside me. The thought will not push away. How I wanted to feel, its heft and warmth. Licking my way back up. I Slide my lips over the shaft and pull it into my mouth, all the way, until his cock hits the back of my throat. His hands resting in my hair, running his fingers down my neck and over my shoulders. Breathing out, gasps of air at my yielding mouth. I'm not going to stop, not going to just tease a little, get up and say NO. He curls his fingers in my hair, brushes it from my face and I continue to suck pulling back slow, letting the glistening cock leave my warm mouth. Before, slipping slowly back in. I know what my David likes by the way he clutches at my hair, tightening his grip when I do something that feels particularly good. I am very eager to please, let him guide me into a rhythm. I want to be such a good/bad little girl. And I push his cock in and out of my mouth,further, longer each time, trying hard to get it all the way inside, to eat every inch, I'm not very good at deep throating though, but I do my best.

My heart is racing, my blood hot, my pussy is soaking wet, leaking in my seat, swollen, so fucking hungry. Faster and faster. I take a hand away and hold the base of his cock with a firm grip, holding him with one hand as I pump my soft mouth; feeling him respond, bucking into me. I move faster and feel the tightening of his thighs, he freezes holding himself, groaning so deep, resonant. I can feel his cock jerking and the feel of semen.

My desert! Filling the back of my throat. I drink it, feeling it slide down my throat. Drinking each spurt. I pull off, and smile my white teeth up at him.

All I say is, "Mmmm, You make it yourself?"

He was flushed in the face, do I detect a sudden shyness?

I lean my head back, feeling suddenly powerful and can't stop smiling. My god what have we done? He brushes his thumb across my bottom lip, all smooth, warm and red from rubbing against a beautiful hard cock. I stand back taking his hand and entwine his fingers in mine.

"Lets watch a movie. I might have a few more snacks."

------------------------

The movie, of course, will be in David's bedroom and we silently walk into his room.

We decide that he in fact owns me until the end of Sunday. A not too subtle agreement I am staying the night.

-------------------------

Sara stands by the TV, looking at each DVD laying in a pile to the side. She may not like anything there, an odd thing to worry about. She looks for a while and then turns to me.