You Need to Relax Ch. 01

If I had to pinpoint one thing in my life that struck true, undiluted fear into me, it was flying.

The whole ordeal terrified me. I would literally rather cross the country on a train for three days than be stuck in a flying metal tube for five hours, but since no one in my family seemed to care for my opinion, the plane is where I ended up on a July evening. A very large, selfish part of me wished I'd never even agreed to this trip. It wasn't like spending my summer at my aunt's house had been at the top of my list of things to do, but it had been so long since my mom had seen her sister, that I couldn't possibly refuse her. Even if that meant forgoing spending my final summer with my friends before we all went to our different colleges in the fall.

My anxiety started the minute we got to Philadelphia airport, and reached its peak when we were finally called to board.

Stepping onto the plane behind my mom and dad, I felt the claustrophobia kick in. I stopped dead in my tracks halfway down the aisle, causing my older brother to crash into my back.

"Move, dipshit," he snapped.

"Shut up," I grated out.

Andrew gave a heavy shove to my shoulder, forcing me forward.

Our seats were dead in the middle of the aircraft, so mom and dad each took a seat at either end, leaving the two middle seats for Andrew and I.
I sat down in my seat, trembling as my family stowed their bags in the overhead compartments. Andrew looked down at me, still as a statue and clinging to my own hand luggage. With a roll of his blue eyes and a loud, exasperated sigh, he snatched the bag from my hands and unceremoniously threw it into the compartment.

Everybody settled into their seats, fastening their belts and trying to get somewhat comfortable in the tight space.

My mom, seated to my left, looked down at me. "Are you okay honey?"

I felt my lip tremble. "I want to get off," I whimpered lamely.

I heard Andrew snicker next to me and resisted the urge to give him an elbow to the ribs.

"Well be there in no time, kiddo. Just try to get some sleep," my dad smiled, leaning over from Andrew's other side.

I said nothing, knowing his advice was totally useless to me. There was no way I'd be getting any sleep in this flying death trap.

The flight attendants began their pre-flight checks, going over the usual safety procedures as we began to taxi backward. My eyes shut tightly, trying to block everything out and pretend I was anywhere else.

When the time came for us to take off, my heart was thumping in my throat. The engine noise grew louder, and soon we were barreling down the runway. My stomach leaped when I felt it the moment the wheels left contact with the ground below us. Without thinking, I thrust my hands to both arm rests, and dug my nails in. Only my brother's hand was already occupying the one to my right. He shot me an irritated look as I clawed into his skin, but he didn't speak or try to shove my hand away. In fact, he turned his hand slightly to give my fingers a reassuring squeeze.

Once we were up in the air, Andrew pulled his hand away. We were now stuck on this thing for five long hours, until we reached Portland.
As we climbed to our cruising altitude, I tried to get comfortable in my seat. Between my restless anxiety and the hard as rocks airplane seats, it was an impossible task.

"Stop moving so much," Andrew ordered.

"I can't help it."

"Figure out how."

I scowled at him. He was such an ass. My brother and I didn't hate each other by any means, but he was the last person you'd want around in any kind of high emotion situation. He just didn't have the patience for dealing with anybody with what he saw as irrational fears.

Yeah, like plummeting to the ground with no possible way of being saved was irrational.

Our journey went on, and I tried my hardest to just relax like my dad had said. Despite it being a late evening flight, the cabin was pretty full, but everybody was mostly asleep already. My dad got us all some blankets and thin pillows, and by our second hour in the air both he and my mom were fast asleep, with my brother looking like he was about to join them.

I knew there was no way I'd be getting any rest during this trip, so I searched for things to occupy my mind and time. I flicked through the in-flight magazine, pulled out my phone and tried listening to music, but nothing could hold my attention for too long. My mind refused to stop focusing on every little sound around me, every little jolt of the plane. And with that came the terrifying, unwanted thoughts of what could happen if we suddenly plummeted to the ground.

"Can you please stop moving around so much," came my brothers low, husky voice. I looked over to him, but his eyes were still closed.

"I'm not."

He opened his eyes then. "I can feel it every time you shift in your seat. It's driving me crazy. Your leg has been bobbing up and down against mine for about an hour."

I frowned, looking down to where our legs were indeed brush against each other. "Maybe if you stopped your manspreading you wouldn't feel it."

"Charlie, you're less than half the size of me. You don't need to take up so much space."

"Oh, so because I'm smaller that means you get to infringe on my space?"

He shrugged, lips tipping into a small grin. "It's all about need and demand. I'm taller, therefore I require more room. Simple."

"Maybe you'd have a valid point if I actually cared about you."

"Fine. I'll leave you to your own thoughts," he said wickedly, closing his eyes once more. Asshole.

A few minutes later, the plane shook. I let out an audible gasp.

Though I knew he'd get annoyed with me, I reached out and tugged on my brother's shirt.

"Andrew?" I whispered.

"It's turbulence, Charlie," he muttered, not opening his eyes.

"I know," I said quietly, mostly to myself. The plane shook once more.

I let out a whimper and clung to Andrew's shirt a little tighter. He sighed, opening his eyes and looking down at me.

"You're not gonna let me sleep are you?"

I bit my lip. "Can... Can you just talk to me? Distract me or something?" Once again, the plane jolted.

Andrew looked like he wanted to say no, but I must have looked truly panicked, because he relented, sitting up a little taller in his seat. "Fine. What do you wanna talk about?"

I said the first thing that randomly came to mind. "How is college?"

He barked out a quiet laugh. "Suddenly you're interested in my school life?"

"I've always been interested," I told him. "Just because I haven't asked recently..."

"Well forgive me for assuming you don't care."

"It's not like we communicate all that much when you're gone. Trying to get you on the phone is harder than contacting the pope."

"Because that's not an exaggeration," he said dryly.

"Regardless. I gave up communicating with you months ago."

He was quiet for a minute, and I thought maybe I'd have to tug on his shirt again, but then he spoke. "School's fine. Not much to report."

"How are your classes?"

"So so."

"Your professors?"

"They're there."

I eyed him suspiciously.

He gave me a big, mischievous grin. "The parties are great, though. You'll see when you come next year."

I rolled my eyes. "That's what you've been doing this year? Getting wasted?"

"I'm sensing a little judgment, Charlotte."

I elbowed him for using my full name. He knew how much I hated it.

We were quiet for a few more minutes before the plane shook again.

"Are you still seeing that girl?" I asked in a breathless rush, eager to focus on anything but the way the plane was rocking me back and forth.

"Riley? I don't know. Sort of. We're casual, nothing exclusive. Don't wanna waste my first year at college with one girl, you know?"

I did not. "Sounds lovely," I muttered.

"More judgment, Charlotte? Never had you down as a prude."

"I'm not a damn prude."

"Hmm. I'm not convinced."

The plane began rocking more violently, making me gasp. I clung to my brother's shirt, turning to him with panicked eyes.

"It's fine, Charlie. The fasten seat belt sign hasn't even been switched on."

"I don't even pay attention to that thing. Mine never comes off."

Andrew shook his head at me. "No wonder you can't relax. Sitting dead straight with that thing pulled across you can't be comfy."

I looped my arm around his own fully and rested my head against his shoulder, burrowing into my blanket. "I'm comfy."

"You're still as tense as a spring."

"The plane is still jolting, in case you hadn't noticed."

"I noticed."

I turned my head fully into his arm, breathing in his comforting scent. "I don't know how you could get on another plane barely three days after you came back from school on one."

"Gets easier the more you do it."

"Yeah, I won't be testing that theory."

Andrew sighed. "You need to relax."

I pulled back from him, meeting his eyes. He was already looking down at me, a lock of wavy brown hair had fallen onto his forehead.

"You keep saying that. Now if you could point out what could possibly get me relaxed on this death trap."

Andrew didn't speak for a few moments. I squeezed my eyes shut as the plane continued to shake and rattle. My chest felt tight, my stomach gnawed at itself. I knew Andrew was right. I knew I had to calm down and release some of the tension in my body, but I truly felt like nothing-

Andrew's left hand moved under the blanket and brushed the exposed skin of my thigh.

My eyes flew open, but I didn't look over to him. It had probably been a mistake.

But then his fingers brushed my skin once more, this time drawing a tiny circle on my flesh. My heart started to speed up for a different reason. Andrew's fingers continued to draw slow, feather light patterns on my thigh. I sat there and did nothing as he applied more pressure on my skin, brushing his fingers slightly higher, toward the hem of my denim shorts.
I swallowed back a gulp in my throat. I supposed there was nothing wrong with what he was doing. Had he been touching my wrist, for example, it would have been entirely innocent.

But the fact that he was doing this on my thigh, under a blanket, on a dimly lit plane and with our parents either side of us made my chest tighten.
I felt his finger skim higher, dancing under the hem of my shorts. Only then did I look up at him.

He was staring ahead, eyes slightly hooded, expression neutral.

"Andrew..."

"Be quiet."

"But-"

"Shush."

"What are you doing?" I asked finally, heart thumping.

Andrew turned his head to me slightly, catching my eyes with his own. He smirked just a little. "I'm helping you relax."

"Like... Like this?"

"Yes."

"I don't see how that is supposed to relax me."

"It will if you let it." His hand pushed even higher up my shorts. His touching was starting to make me feel weird. And I wasn't sure if it was a good or bad kind of weird. The tips of his fingers met the edge of my panties.

"But... I don't think you're supposed to do this."

"Do you want me to stop?" He asked earnestly.

I stayed silent. I really didn't know how to answer that. The rational side of me knew that whatever this was we were engaging in was totally inappropriate. We were in a packed plane. Our parents slept peacefully either side of us. He was my brother.

But still I said nothing.

Andrew's fingers got braver, pushing up and over the front of my panties. I squirmed when I felt him brush my center over the material. He rubbed me there a little, lazily, but it still began making me wet.

Fuck, I was getting wet for my brother.

All at once, his hand pulled back and left my shorts. I wanted to shout at him in frustration, but then that would have been crazy. The absolute last thing I should want was my brother's hand back exactly where it had been.

"Unbutton your shorts," he demanded quietly.

I stared at him in shock. "You have to be kidding."

The hand that went to my stomach confirmed he was not kidding at all.

I looked around the cabin, eyes wide. The flight attendants hadn't come by in a while, and almost everyone in our immediate vicinity was asleep. I took a look at our parents, and back to him. He grazed his fingers lightly against the skin of my belly, where my shirt had ridden up slightly.

My hands shook under the blanket as I did as he told me and unbuttoned my shorts. As I did, Andrew pulled on my seat belt, letting the two straps unbuckle and fall away. I had barely unzipped my shorts when my brother's hand dived inside, once again brushing along the top of my panties. He had better leverage now that he had switched positions, and wasted no time in finding my cloth covered clit. He rubbed me there, the pressure just light enough to send a fire of need through me. I could feel myself growing wetter under his touch.

"We can't be doing this," I hissed, more to myself than to him.

"Shh," Andrew told me again. "Don't think."
Doing what he told me, I let my mind empty, focusing on nothing but the sensations emanating from my pussy. As if of their own accord, my hips pushed up slightly, needy for more contact. I was immediately embarrassed. It was one thing to grow wet under someone's touch -- and I was sure Andrew could feel the effect he was having on me -- but it was another thing to silently plea for more of it.
And I had to keep telling myself, he's your brother, he's your brother, he's your brother, but it made no difference when he finally moved his fingers inside my panties.

At the first brush of contact with my bare skin, I had to bite my lip to stop from groaning. Andrew bypassed my clit, going straight for gold as he pushed a finger slowly inside of me.

This time, I did groan. So softly and quietly that no one but my brother could have heard me. As he pushed in further, I let my head fall against his upper arm. I was growing increasingly wetter, and when he curled that finger against my pussy wall, I felt my muscles tighten around him.

"Do you like that?" He asked, voice gritty.

I nodded against his arm. I could feel his muscles contract as he pushed his finger in and out of me. He pushed a second finger inside, which joined his other easily since I was now dripping wet. I began moving my hips against him as if on pure instinct. I rolled and ground against them, seeking the forbidden pleasure my brother was giving me.

My brother worked at me a little faster, fingers a little rougher as he thrust them in and out. I swear I could hear the wet sounds above the soft whirring of the engine.

I felt the first tingling of pleasure begin in my toes, curling them tightly. My eyes squeezed shut and my chest pushed out, my back arching from my seat. I felt the blanket drop slightly, but couldn't find myself caring if anything was exposed. All that mattered was this feeling, all I needed was my brother's fingers inside me, rubbing against me, making me ache for the pleasure. My breathing came out in quick pants, and I dropped a hand to his wrist, urging him on. Then I was combusting, alive with a thousand lightning bolts running through my body. I felt my pussy clench around his fingers, milking them in desperation. Shoving my face further into Andrew's arm, I let out a groan that was probably a little too loud, but there was no way I could have controlled it.

It seemed to draw out forever, but then, as I opened my eyes again and tried to regain control of my breathing and my heart rate, I felt Andrew pull his fingers out slightly. I winced a little at the sensation.

Andrew carefully pulled his hand away from me and discreetly brought it back out into the open. In the small amount of light, I could see his two fingers glistening with my juices. I could also see that there was a significant bulge in his lap. The sight made my pussy tingle once more.

"That was..." I could barely find words.

Andrew chuckled. "You're welcome."

My eyes grew heavy, my body completely loose and languid. Before I drifted off completely, I saw my brother bring his fingers to his mouth and suck them, cleaning me off of him.

My mind began racing through a million possibilities, but before any of them could fully form, I slipped into unconsciousness.

*A/N: Thanks for checking out my second submission! This story will be continued in at least~ another chapter, so I hope you look forward to it! -GG