1

To jog his memory, I lifted up my shirt and flashed him my bald pussy.

"There you go again!" he said.

But his cock was interested.

I spread the petals of my labia so that he could get a view of my cotton candy-colored crack, which was already sopping wet.

"You don't want to be inside this?" I asked, inserting two of my fingers into my hole, and pulling them out slick and glistening.

He didn't say no.

Ostensibly this was because he was refusing to participate. But I knew it was because he didn't mean no.

He was just too pathetic to say yes.

He was staring at my cunt though, like he wanted to climb inside it.

I felt overdressed all of a sudden.

I removed my shirt and spread my legs for him.

I also played with my tits. They felt almost as good as my pussy. The nipples were as hard as bolts.

"If you want to have a long, meaningless discussion about boundaries - or worse still, lay there in a funk, denying yourself pleasure - be my guest," I said, while finger-banging myself. "But if you want to get out of your head for once, take off those tighty-whities and come and fuck me."

He looked at me like it was an impossible trap, and I was the boy who cried wolf - or in this case, the girl who cried fuck.

He remained frozen on the bed, but it was like I could see his sexual soul separate from his body and drift over to fuck me.

I beckoned him with one of the same wet fingers I'd used to probe myself.

"If you don't hurry up," I said, "I'm going to cum and then I won't need you anymore."

I've never seen anyone so conflicted or exhausted.

Poor guy, I thought, as the sweat slid down his temples, and my own fingers slid into the temple between my legs.

High achiever, perfect son, law scholar, butter-wouldn't-melt nerd...

It had all gone.

He had been reduced to a meaningless cock and a pair of blue balls.

No other qualities.

"Come on, Chris," I said sweetly, "it's time to fuck your sister now."

He was on top of me. But his intensity, though hot, did not contain any knowledge about what to do.

He tried to push his stiff cock uncomfortably up against my labia.

"Jesus," I said, "do I have to do everything around here."

I reached down to guide him in.

It felt incredible.

Mainly because I had got myself so turned on already...

Like when somebody opens a tightly-sealed jar because you have loosened it with your own previous attempt.

But his cock did feel lovely, bashing away at my cervix.

I found that if I grabbed him by the ass, I could control his otherwise-clueless attempts to slide in and out of me, while rubbing my clit against his pelvic bone.

Before long my pussy started to contract with the tingles of a delicious orgasm.

It was good, and lasted long enough that I almost fell for the mirage it had something to do with my brother himself.

I couldn't resist making a little noise - which wasn't ideal, in case he imagined it had something to do with his non-existent skills.

In truth it was my own successful masturbation using his cock as the dildo.

I was puppeteering his fuck of me - I didn't want him misinterpreting that fact.

As he started to pump faster and make animalistic noises of his own, I realized I wasn't in the mood anymore.

I pulled his dick out and pushed him off me.

I think he thought we were changing position, because he was happy to release me from the cage of his limbs.

But when I got up to go and wash myself in the bathroom, he watched with an expression somewhere between bewilderment and horror.

"You need to take a leak?" he asked.

"We're done,' I said.

"What? That's it? What happened?"

"You're not a virgin anymore."

"But I didn't get to complete the experience," he said.

"Now you know how half the women in America feel."

I disappeared into the bathroom to wash up, locking the door behind me

"I can't believe I let you do this again!" he said furiously. "Every fucking time I fall for it!"

I could hear him immediately outside the door.

"I can't believe you persuaded me to let you fuck me!" I yelled back. "And by the way, you weren't any good."

"You didn't give me a chance!" he said.

I couldn't resist opening the door to tear him a new asshole for this:

"Didn't give you a chance? You spoiled little shit! I gave you the ultimate gift - to be inside me! To not be a sad loser-virgin anymore, to have access to my body... Your own sister's hot little body. They're not all like mine, buddy. Wait and see. Actually, you might never find out, because no one else is going to fuck you."

He was standing naked in the doorway, his erection as engorged as when he'd been nailing me.

I can't pretend it didn't make my heart skip a beat.

"Sara please..." he begged.

He collected my hand and tried to make it hold his cock.

"Boundaries!" I said, pushing past.

He grabbed my shoulders from behind, and wound his arms around mine.

I tried feebly to struggle - and was of course pretending - but he had me trapped in the straitjacket of his arms, pushed up against the wall.

It might have been scary if he wasn't the least intimidating person ever, and I wasn't super into it.

Keeping a tight restraint on my upper body, he yanked my panties down to my knees.

He pushed his cock between my legs.

Even when forcing himself upon me like an animal, he was clueless how to get it in.

I was wet enough that eventually he nudged the right spot, and filled me to the brim in one glide.

Keeping me pressed - squashed would be more accurate - face-first against the wall, he began to slam my poor little cunt from behind.

He was strong and masculine, and completely in command.

It was the first time he'd seemed attractive to me, for more reasons than just his cock.

And yet however good it felt, I knew he had to be close to blowing a load, and I was not about to reward his assault with an ejaculation.

So I called out for Mom all of a sudden. Really loud. Several times.

"Mama! Mama! Mama!"

He tried to cover my mouth and continue fucking me, but it was too late.

She could have already been on her way.

He had no choice but to release his cock from between my legs, and duck back into the bathroom as I pulled my panties up.

"Did you call?" Mom's voice asked from the top of the stairs. "I'm making breakfast."

"It's ok" I called back. "I was looking for my blue sweater, but I found it."

Mom left.

I put my jeans and the blue sweater on.

My red-faced brother opened the bathroom door.

He was still naked with a hard-on.

"I'm just going to do it to myself," he said, and started jerking off in front of me.

He was so desperate that it didn't even look like it had anything to do with pleasure.

He was just a junkie, going through the motions.

"Why should I care?" I said. "Knock one out!"

And I went upstairs.

Christian released a grunt of fury, rather than ecstasy.

He stopped masturbating and got dressed, following me up to the kitchen.

At this point he was a horny duckling that had imprinted on me.

Seventeen

He was in a grim mood for the rest of the day.

It was as like he'd turned into some sort of disturbed recluse.

Wherever he was, in any given room, there was a shadow accompanying him; the inverse of his former bright light.

My brother had darkened.

Like someone in a fairy tale, after they've been cast under a spell.

Part of me wondered if I'd gone too far.

But then too far for what? This was exactly what I wanted.

At one point after dinner, he snapped at Grammy, which is not done in our family. She's like the Queen, and beyond reproach.

Later on, he got into an argument with Dad, who asked him to mow the lawns.

Instead of smiling and agreeing - like the ass kissing, gracious dork he once was - his first response was to say, "Why should I have to?"

Dad looked horrified.

"Because I'm asking you to," he said, "I'm surprised you'd question me."

My brother rolled his eyes, and went back to looking sullen.

It was like he had become James Dean.

It was quite a fall from grace, compared to previous family dinners that week, during which more or less everyone had fawned over him for being the glorious one.

"I don't know what's gotten into you, Christian," said Mom, shaking her head, as he was going out to mow the lawn.

"Neither do I," I added helpfully.

"But it's like you turned into someone else this week."

My brother glared at me.

If looks could kill, his gaze had slaughtered me, chopped me into pieces and stuffed them into a refuse bag.

"He's becoming a bit weird," I said to Mom, when he was safely out of earshot.

She was understandably incredulous, as she knew him to be the same doofus we all did.

"It's hard to believe, Mama," I said. "But it's true. He's changed in a really intense way."

She was only half listening, so I upped the ante:

"I'm almost worried he might try to do something to me."

She stopped loading the dishwasher and took me seriously for a moment.

"What sort of thing?"

"I'm probably just being paranoid."

"He hasn't hurt you, has he darling?" she asked.

"No. But I've been feeling wary of him. He's moody and withdrawn. I haven't seen him pick up a law book all week, and he's usually reading them on the treadmill. You said it yourself. He's never acted this way before. It's depressing sharing a room with him."

"It's only for one more night," Mom said. "I'll make this up to you, I promise."

"Can I help you load the dishwasher, Mama?"

"You are so thoughtful, angel, thank you. I worry sometimes that your father and I don't show you enough of our appreciation."

***

My brother's attitude and behavior didn't improve much that evening.

He continued to mope around like the walking dead.

I was wearing a bra that made my tits look perky.

If my nipples had eyes, he'd have been gazing dreamily into them for most of the night.

At bedtime he didn't seem as eager to go downstairs as he had on previous nights.

It became clear when he finally arrived that his plan was to brush his teeth and go straight to sleep, without having to interact.

He took his clothes off in the bathroom, and even rolled onto his side so that he was facing away.

I knew this was not his preferred position to sleep in.

I didn't want us going to sleep on a frosty atmosphere, so I reached out a tentative hand for his cock.

Quick as anything, he slapped it away and clamped his legs shut to keep it out of my reach.

"Don't you dare fucking touch me!" he hissed.

He seemed to mean it.

I don't know where he'd found this new resolve.

Maybe he'd blown a load on his own.

It hardly mattered.

He was still thinking about me. Because it takes a lot of effort to ignore someone. And even more effort to hate them.

This had been a triumphant week.

I had toppled my brother's crown, knocked him from his perch, smashed his pedestal...

And had some nice orgasms along the way.

Now I just needed to secure his fate.

I wasn't sure exactly how I would do it - but I knew it depended on being able to convince my parents.

As luck would have it, fate intervened...

Eighteen

We had to get up early the next morning because our cousins, and one set of grandparents, were leaving.

Their taxi arrived at 8 AM and my brother and I, bleary eyed and dressed in our pajamas, went to hug them and pretend we cared they were finally getting the fuck out of our house.

"It's really been amazing," Allison said to me.

It has? I thought. I must have missed that.

"Thanks for the fun times," said George, invading my personal space.

If there had been fun times, I couldn't remember George being present for them.

The rest of us sat down for a family breakfast, before it was time for Mom and Dad to drive my Mom's parents home - they live in our city.

I think my brother would have loved to ride along with them, rather than be left home alone with sociopathic me.

But there was no room in the car.

And besides, I decided it might be fun for us to have a little brother and sister time.

Especially now we'd no longer be sleeping in a bed together.

I said goodbye to Grammy and Gramps, and as soon as Dad had reversed the car from the driveway, I sidled up to my brother and placed a soft hand on his knee.

"We have an empty house," I said, smoothing his thigh with my palm.

He snatched it away.

"I'll swallow your cum," I said.

"You're a bullshit artist," he replied.

"You don't like having your huge cock in my mouth?"

I had his attention, but he wouldn't take the bait.

"What about in my pussy?" I said.

I lowered my pajama bottoms and bent over the sofa cushion.

"How about I count to three," I said, twerking my ass at him. "Last chance if you want to fuck me. One... "

He made no effort to move.

"Two..."

Surely he wasn't going to resist me?

"Three!"

He leapt out of his chair like an alligator.

The next thing I knew he was thrusting himself inside.

I barely had time to be impressed that he'd found the hole on his own.

His thick cock was filling me up and banging into my G spot. It was glorious.

For the first time in my life, I couldn't think of him as a loser. Only as the choreographer of the tsunamic orgasm that was already forming in the depths of my soul.

He seemed to have garnered enough wisdom - or awoken enough primal instinct - to intuit that he should play with my clit and asshole while he fucked me.

I wish you could have seen us going at it, on the family couch.

His muscles were all pumped up, and his body emitting some kind of musky sweat that should have been gross, but it was driving me wild.

And then I was flying...

Above the city, above the planet, across the stratosphere...

My pulsating cunt clamping down on my brother's enormous cock as the waves of orgasm tore through me.

I was shuddering so badly that he had to hold me still to keep fucking me.

He kept licking my hair and neck, and forcing his fingers into my mouth. The same fingers that were intermittently probing my asshole.

I actually wanted to make him cum for the first time. I genuinely wanted to swallow it.

But I couldn't give him the satisfaction. Not to mention the power.

It would be the opposite of my plan.

So I pulled his slippery cock out, pulled up my pajamas abruptly, and sat down on the sofa, pretending I was content to leave it at that

He flew into a blind rage.

"Oh no, you fucking don't!" he said, like a man possessed.

His eyes were wild and bloodshot.

If everything till now had been edge-play, he had finally fallen over the edge.

"I've had enough of you doing this to me!" he yelled.

He didn't care I was his sister.

He didn't care about his own dignity or integrity, let alone mine.

He didn't care about law degrees, or ethics, or self-control; or his future...

He cared about one thing and one thing only.

He jumped on top of me and secured me on the couch.

I could easily have resisted, but I chose happily to play along.

He clamped my shoulders in place with his knees, his cock just inches from my face.

"You are going to fucking take it! You little whore. You're going to fucking drink it!"

He was furiously jerking himself off into my face.

It was the hottest thing ever. Not least because he was in total command.

My brother unleashed.

But he was so consumed by lust - and so loud in his ranting - that he didn't see them arrive home in the driveway.

Neither did he see them get out the car, or walk up the steps to the front door.

And I guess he didn't hear them open the door, and enter the living room.

But I'll tell you what they saw, and what they heard.

My parents saw their own firstborn son pinning their daughter down while his huge cock began to fire huge - dare I say, magnificent - arcs of thick, delicious cum, into her face and hair.

All while he was saying:

"You cheap fucking sister slut, you are going to pay the price. Drink it, you little bitch! Drink it!"

His cum was emerging at such velocity that some of it missed me altogether, so he readjusted his hips to point the remaining fountain squarely at my face.

The dying jets sprayed onto my lips, and filled the canals of my nostrils.

There was nothing I could do but accept my face as the canvas for my brother's delicious sperm.

But I kept my eyes closed, to avoid being blinded.

I'm not sure he got to experience much bliss, before he heard the infernal bellow of our father.

It was a tone I've never heard before or since, from any living human.

A howl of primal despair.

Dad ran over to grab my brother and violently pull him off me.

"You little piece of shit. How fucking dare you!" he yelled.

"It's not what it looks like!" my brother said, desperately.

Even though what it looked like it was his big red-faced cock still dripping cum onto the living room carpet, while a soup of it glazed his sister's face.

I had to try hard not to laugh.

"Don't you dare twist this," Dad said. "I saw you with my own eyes!"

Mom, meanwhile, looked about as haunted as any mother can, and raced over to comfort me.

"I should have listened to you, my poor darling."

She was rocking me in her arms.

"We got it so wrong about you. I'm so sorry!" she said, distraught.

She started to cry, as though she too had been cum-blasted in the face, by the reality of it.

"Thank god you got here," I said, bursting into an attempt at tears. "I told you he was crazy!"

My brother was still standing there, paralyzed, like a deer on a country road.

It was as though his limbs had rigor mortis.

"Go and wait in the yard!" Dad ordered him. "Like the filthy animal you are. I don't want you in this house ever again, do you hear me? Go!"

He pushed him out the front door.

"Wait there and I will deal with you later. You better start saying your prayers, you disgusting creature!"

And now my own mother and father were dabbing at my face - Mom with a handkerchief from her purse, Dad with a few sheets of dampened kitchen towel.

Both of them carefully removing my brothers voluminous orgasm from their own daughter's face.

"It's okay, Princess," said Dad, tenderly removing a particularly viscous glob from my eye-socket. "It's going to be okay, darling."

Mom was crying and holding my hand with one hand, while she held Dad's with the other.

And I could see my brother outside the door, a picture of shock and grief, his life no doubt flashing before his eyes.

Then I saw him crumple to his knees, like the time he was told about the death of his dog, Sammy.

What a lot of drama, I thought. Such a histrionic family.

I was careful to continue crying and seeming distressed.

As Dad delicately removed the last dried emission from my cheek, his hands seemed so strong and protective...

I noticed for the first time how big they were.

I wondered if he might be packing too.

But that would have to wait...

For now, I needed compassion and support.

And the basement bedroom.

From there I would plan my next round of demands.

I was a survivor in this family now.

If I played it right, I'd be able to get whatever I wanted for some time.

"Thank you Daddy," I said, kissing him on the cheek. "Thank you for saving me from him."

My father hugged me. I could feel the guilt in his tight embrace.

"We misunderstood you, my Sara" he said.

"Yes," I said, sniffing back nose-tears.

"Things are going to change around here," said Mom. "You will never have to feel unsafe in your own home again, we promise."

I let Dad rock me in his arms. He may have been rocking himself rather than me. But I went along with it, because I wasn't used to affection from either of my parentsOr from anyone.

"I don't know if I can forgive him," I said, sniveling.

"You don't have to," my father assured me.

I let myself be engulfed by a three-way group hug in which my parents clung to me, seemingly to heal themselves.

I wondered if they could smell my brother's sperm as strongly as I still could.

"What can we do?" Dad said. "What can we do for you to make this better, my love?"

"Well... " I said.

Nineteen

"There you go, sweetheart," said Mom, sawing off a generous slab of the chocolate cake she'd just finished frosting. "Are you sure you don't want to eat it up here with your Dad and I?"

"No, I'm going to take it down to my room, if that's OK."

"Of course, darling. Everything is alright, isn't it?"

"Yes," I said. "I'm doing a little better every day. Although I keep getting the flashbacks."

"I know, sweetheart, it is going to take time to process the trauma. You can tell everything to the new therapist when you see them - even the parts you wouldn't want to tell us. It's completely confidential."

"Thank you Mama," I said. "Any word on how Christian is doing?"

"He wrote another letter to your Dad from the rehab center. He sounded contrite and taking responsibility for the first time," she said, "which is progress. But his journey is going to be a long one. He'll be in the program for at least another three years, so we can't expect overnight miracles. But you mustn't worry. For as long as you're living under our roof, he will not return to this house."

"Thank you, Mama," I said, heading downstairs to my bedroom.

I had gathered a finger-full of buttercream and was sucking it into my mouth.

The basement room was much more awesome since I'd taken it over. I had painted the walls a better color, and got rid of the cheesy band posters.

And it was nice to finally be able to play Nintendo without having to share every alternate game with my dork brother.

I got myself cozy in his bed with the chocolate cake, and un-paused the movie I'd been watching.

This is the life, I thought, delivering a forkful of sponge into my face.

I do miss him a bit sometimes.

If that's what the feeling is...

It doesn't last long.