Is it love or lust for her brother.. When Love Is Wrong.. I’ll never know what came over me.
Maybe it was the heat. Somehow, in summer, I always felt the air was filled with the scent of raw male. The way my short summer skirts would swing against the back of my bare legs, the way the sudden cool breeze would caress the strands of hair resting at the nape of my sweaty neck, like a lover’s whispered breath.
Maybe I was mad at having been cheated on by my loser boyfriend. Betrayal rumbled deep in the pit of my stomach that summer. Bitterness laced each waking day. Sex had always been a part of our power play. Maybe I had come up with the only way to trump him.
Or maybe it was the way Nick carried me upstairs and tucked me into bed when I’d tried to drowned my sorrows, pulled the covers up to my chin, tucked my fringe behind my ear and kissed my forehead before leaving my room, careful to leave my door half open. His tenderness touching me even through my drunken haze.
Or maybe it was just time.
The morning after my now infamous drinking binge, like hundreds of morning before, my little brother was sitting at the counter shovelling cereal into his mouth, engrossed in some textbook, as I stumbled into the kitchen. Leaning against the counter in my robe and nursing my coffee, I found myself scrutinising him, observing him, and, if I was totally, completely honest, deliciously, visually, devouring him. Having just turned 18, his still lanky body had an undeniable sexy awkwardness. Being 24, I’m used to fully built bodies, arms and legs muscly and strong. The way his legs folded and wrapped around the kitchen stool was boyishly clumsy. His upper body, however, told a different story. A rower all his life, his arms strong and tanned, the outline of his biceps stretched against his t-shirt as he continued lifting the spoon to his mouth at a record rate. I sighed as I dimly recalled how he’d held my body the night before.
“Hey Nicky, thanks for last night, babe. Hope I wasn’t too much trouble.” His grunt, though not an uncommon sound in the morning, seemed a little more loaded than usual. Never one to avoid any kind of conflict, real or imagined I asked,
Still looking into his industrial sized bowl of cereal, he mumbled, “You drink too much, Amy. If you’re just having fun that’s fine but I know it’s still over that shithead ex of yours. Get over it. It’s been a month. He’s moved on, in fact, he moved on while you were still together, remember? Do you really want to be pining over him?”
His words, as always pierced to the heart of truth. But it was his concern for me that touched. Not that being told what to do by my little brother didn’t irk though.
“Fine. No more drowning sorrows drinking,” I mumbled. Then to clear the air, I joked, “As long as every other kind is up for grabs.”
But he’d already returned to his textbook. I smiled at his face, scrunched up in concentration. I’d always admired how he’d devote himself 100% to anything he cared about. Pretending to be engrossed in my coffee I went back to observing him. His hair, black and wildly unkempt, falling back into his eyes as soon as he’d pushed it back. His sleepy face; wrinkled by pillow creases and unshaven. He looked young, rugged, sexy, beautiful.
He looked like the perfect summer afternoon fuck.
I shook my head, shaking the images from my head. What was wrong with me? Sex daydreaming about my little brother? I must still be drunk. I choked on my coffee, swore and hurried out of the kitchen. Nick looked up, following me with an amused, confused gaze.
Getting out of the shower later that morning, I lay back on my bed, naked, loving the feeling of the air conditioner blow over my wet skin. Images of my little brother, uninvited, again, flashing through my mind. His strong arms holding me down while he rocking his body against me. My fingers running up and down his inner thighs while I lay between them, my head bobbing up and down on his crotch. His rough cheek, harsh against my skin while he rubbed his face against my breasts. As I turned over onto my stomach, burying my face into my pillow trying to hide from the images in my head, the fan blew over my naked ass, making me shiver. Unconsciously spreading my legs, the soft breeze blew across my pussy lips. The sudden image of my brother, his head between my legs blowing softly over my labia made me moan and I reached under my body, softly rubbing the slowly dampening lips. Pulling soft pink lips apart, the soft cool breeze wafted over my clit as my pussy squeezed involuntarily, my juices starting to drip out over my fingers. I slowly rubbed the outside of my wet pussy with my index finger, my thumb slowly making it’s way to my clit, making me jerk once it made contact. Overtaken by an uncontrollable sudden horniness, I thrust my index finger deep into my tight hole. The wetness surprising me as my finger was sucked further and further into my hungry pussy. My thumb taking up a slow hard circling pattern over my clit, I slipped a second finger into my cunt, stretching it wide, as I pushed my body down onto my hand while my fingers pushed deeper into my hole.
Unable to rid the flashes of my brother finger fucking me and sucking on my clit, I gave in and closed my eyes, picturing him right there with me. Whispering his name softly under my breath, I told him to fuck me deeper with his fingers. Hearing my own voice saying my brother’s name in the middle of such intensity brought my orgasm on unusually fast. And as I pulled out my index finger to squeeze my clit while still slamming my middle finger deep into my cunt, the wave of orgasm washed over me and I screamed, “Nick, fuck, yes, baby. Fuck me, Nick” over and over again. My entire body pulsed with an incredible energy as I trembled with pleasure.
Falling down hard onto the bed, my fingers still under me softly caressing the soft moist folds of my pussy lips, my door swung open, followed by Nick running into the room panting, “What’s the matter? Are you ok?” before stopping dead in his tracks and letting off a torrent of obscenities. Exhausted from my mentally intense orgasm, all I could was reach over for the quilt, pulling it over my naked, exposed, freshly covered in sweat body. Turning towards him, I noticed his eyes flicking up and down my body.
Embarrassed, I yelled, “The least you could fucking do is turn around perve!”
He stuttered an apology as he turned around. “Sorry sis, I just heard you calling my name, I thought you were being attacked or something.”
Bringing my hands up to cover my rapidly reddening face, I snapped at him out of embarrassment. “What the fuck are you on about, I wasn’t yelling anything you must’ve imagined it, now get out.” Shuffling his feet he walked towards the door, then hesitated before turning around.
“I’m really sorry, sis. I really did think something was wrong, Have a good nap.” He smiled apologetically before closing the door.
Covering my face, I let out a stifled scream of embarrassment. I was almost caught masturbating to the fantasy of my own little brother eating me out. My body tired, I laid back, falling asleep, my dreams filled with a dark haired boy.
My hangover still hanging like a dark cloud over me when I got up mid afternoon, I thought a little sunshine would help dry up whatever alcohol I had left in my body, not to mention, I had to get out of my bedroom where I couldn’t stop thinking about the intense orgasm I’d had from thinking about my little brother. Spreading my towel out on the backyard patio, I looked around, and seeing no one, took off my bikini top, laying down letting the sun turn my back an even tan brown. The sun lulling me into a more relaxed state, I dozed off.