"Gawdamnfuckingshit!" Lauren muttered under her breath, clenching her teeth. Her mother looked sharply at her sideways then looked back to the sandwich she was making. She didn't like Lauren speaking like that in front of her but needed her to watch Brian. She said nothing.
Brian was well aware of his sister's dislike of having to stay and watch him. He was too old now to rib her about it. He had taken, instead, to buttoning his lip the last couple of years. He recognized the burden he was on his family, his older sister especially. He sat in the living room, a large lump
near his tonsils that he couldn't quite swallow.
"Right then." Lauren's mother said as she closed her lunch pail, stood up very straight and walked uncomfortably towards the door. She stopped near Brian and looked down at him. He looked up. His face showed everything to her. He was upset she knew, he was blaming himself. She smiled at him in a wan way. By the way he looked downward, she knew he had taken it for pity. She walked out closing the door just a little too hard.
"Fun, fun, fun, Bry." Lauren said to herself and started to make spaghetti for their supper. Lauren was a little bit dumpy. She had no social life. She blamed this mostly on her brother Brian. In truth there was a lot more than Brian's narcolepsy responsible for her lack of dates. She had a very bad acne problem and was chubby around the middle. These were just the physical obstacles. She had poor self-esteem and tended to be cynical. This pushed people away, boys especially. Mostly, it was her mother, a bible thumping New Englander who's fear that her daughter might have sex before she was married was second only to her fear of God himself. A great cross, nearly life size, a tortured Christ, casting haunted eyes skyward, hung in the living room. It was plaster painted dark bronze, the figure emaciated like a holocaust victim. In every room there was a copy of her mother's favorite bible on a table or shelf, just in case she found you had accidentally walked out of easy reach of one of these stern black tomes. When you cracked the books open, they all smelled like aspirin in the spine. All of these hurdles for her to jump. For her though, Brian was always the tallest.
Brian watched his sister stalk around in the kitchen banging pans. He knew she wanted to be out instead of watching him. Dating or having friends. She was pretty, at least he thought so. But she had to be here every night while their mother welded aluminum widgets for six-fifty and hour from four until midnight.
Lauren's other big problem was that she was sixteen and sexually frustrated. Really, she wanted to get fucked. Forget dating, she wanted the old cockaroo and all that that entailed. At least some of her general crabbiness was caused by this frustration. Just about all of it at this particular instant. Here she was, cooking whitebread din-din and gritting her teeth because she was itchy down there and masturbation just wasn't enough, damnit!
She pressed the seam of her jeans against the oven's handle and moved back and forth; feeling dirty and good at the same time. She liked the idea that Brian was in the other room though she didn't want to get caught. Just that she was getting away with something dirty and forbidden. She looked over her shoulder and saw Brian was watching TV. Even if he did see her, she was being
discrete, she hummed something by Madonna so it would look to him like she was just dancing.
When the spaghetti was finally done, she heaped some onto a plate for Brian, stuck a fork in the pot for her and walked into the living room. Brian was asleep with his chin down on his chest. "Fucker." She muttered. "It's gonna get cold." Knowing he couldn't hear her. She tossed the plate down on the coffee table in front of him with a loud ceramic clatter. "You hear me! It's gonna
get cold!," she shouted as she sat down next to him. He didn't stir. Pinching his cheek and yanking his head around by it, she yelled in his ear, "Gon-NA get COLD!"
He woke up and looked at her angrily with tears welling in his eyes. "Ow! Shit! Why the fuck you gotta be so damn mean?" He rubbed his cheek and set his jaw.
"I was just playyy-in'! She said. "S'ghetti's done, gotta eat it afore it gets cold." She gave him a look that said he should stop being such a baby and then turned to the TV. He ate quietly and didn't look at her.
They watched a movie about surfers. The plot was pretty typical. Guy likes girl. Guy is good at sport. Guy has competitor who likes girl. Guy must win sporting event to win girl. Everyone was dressed skimpy and Lauren mostly watched guys packages stuffed into tight thongs or wetsuits. She pressed her legs tightly together whenever they ran anywhere. She liked seeing their junk bounce.
Half way through the movie she looked over at Brian and saw he was asleep again. She huffed and rolled her eyes. Then she looked at him again. "Brian?" She asked loudly, "You awake?" No answer. She looked at the TV. The villain of the picture was running toward the crashing water in slow motion, his presumably giant cock jumping side to side in his briefs. "Hey Brian, you wouldn't mind if I diddled myself right here in front of you, would you?" Her heart pumped hard with fear and excitement. "I mean, If I were to just pull my pants off and finger myself like a pornogirl, you wouldn't care, right?" No response from Brian. "Yeah, I think I will, I think I will just Jill off right here in front of you and wipe my cum right in your hair." She laughed. It sounded like broken glass.
She watched him intently for any signs that he was waking up as she unzipped her fly and put her hand in her pants. Her heart was thumping. She brought her fingers to her nose and sniffed. She wiped them on his shirt sleeve, giggling.
A second later she pulled her pants all the way off and threw her legs wide. "Look Bry! I'm fucking myself right in front of you." She pushed three fingers inside to the third knuckle. They squelched around and she ground her palm on her clit.
She was terrified that he would wake up and actually see her doing this. Terrified that he would tell ma but she didn't want to stop. She felt intensely guilty and terribly dirty but it was an addictive feeling. God I'm such a horrible fucking pervert, she thought but didn't stop. She only fucked herself faster and then came. Shaking the couch and trying to control herself. Afraid and excited.
She lay there for a minute feeling horrible and guilty and spiteful at the same time. She reached out and touched her slippery fingertips to his lips and grinned a mean grin. She rubbed her wetness over his lips thoroughly and then had an idea. With a little laugh she took his fork and rubbed the tines over her wet vagina. She carefully put it in herself and turned it around. When
it came out it had liquid drooling off of the blunt silver tips. She put it back in his spaghetti and looked at him again. More. She squatted over his plate and started rubbing spaghetti on her puss, pushing it in and letting it fall out again onto his plate.
She put her pants back on and shook him awake. "Your S'ghetti's getting cold Bry." She said tenderly. "You can sleep when it's bed time, finish your din-din." He wiped the wetness off his lips with a tired gesture. "Drooling in your sleep Bry," She giggled. He ate the rest of his spaghetti while she watched him from the corner of her eye. He made no sign that he tasted anything wrong with his dinner.
Over the next week Lauren began to experiment with the possibilities of her new toy. She had played jokes on him while asleep before but never anything that would get her seriously punished if she was caught. She used to paint his face with makeup and dress him up like a doll. Her mother would yell at her but she always had denialability on her side. She could just say she was playing around and would take it off before he woke up. Her mother's main argument was that it might make him into a faggot. Other times she would change the all the clocks in the house to fool Brian into thinking he had slept a lot longer or shorter than he had. As a result, Brian didn't much trust his sister; or even his reality at times.
While watching him the next night she had masturbated standing on the couch, her pussy right in his face. She had told him in explicit detail what she was doing and what a goof he was because he didn't even know.
She also did things that would have gotten her in more trouble than she wanted to imagine. In front of Brains sleeping body she knelt down before the giant crucifix on the wall and pretended to suck Jesus’ cock, licking and kissing the bronze painted plaster. This led her to the idea of fucking herself with a cross that her mother kept on her bedside table. Afterwards, she was very
careful to wash all of the smell off.
She was afraid that her mother would notice the smell of sex in the air. When Brian woke up on Wednesday, he asked why all the windows were open and the fans were on. She told him she had been farting a lot that night.
The scariest part of her new fetish was the fact that Brian's narcolepsy was unpredictable. He always nodded off at least twice a night while she watched him but his "naps" could last anywhere from five minutes to three hours. If she really got into something bad and he woke up before she was done, there would be no way to stop him from tattling. Brian was always too good to have any blackmail material on.
The solution to this problem happened one night when he was showering. When he showered the door was always to be left ajar and the TV volume low just In case he fell asleep and someone had to come rescue him. Brian's only privacy when he showered was the clear shower curtain that would steam up. No one knew it but this was the time when he would masturbate as quietly as he could and he dared do it only once a week.
Normally, no one paid any attention to him while he showered, giving him as much privacy as he could be afforded. He had been instructed to always sing in the shower so Lauren and their mother knew he was awake. When he masturbated he was always much more conscious of his singing, making sure his volume was good and his voice didn't waver. Ironically, his voice was absolutely perfect during these times. He was an artist and his voice carried in it the divine.
Now that Lauren had started experimenting with her brother she began to peek at what he was doing while in the shower through the crack in the hinge side of the door. Since the shower curtain rarely covered the back half of the tub she could usually see his bare butt perfectly. If he turned, she would move out of the way so he wouldn't see her peeking. Because of this, she rarely ever saw his front parts. The only recent time she had, he had fallen asleep and she and her mother had to come in, turn the water off and get him to bed. Her mother had vigorously protected his modesty and so she had seen very little.
Now as he sung and washed his thin muscular body, she crouched in the hall and dug her fingers in herself just as quietly as she could. Then he started to wash his privates and he spread his legs a little to get under his testes. As he washed himself, he slowly began to stroke himself with the soap. He turned with his back completely toward the opening in the door which made his
profile completely exposed to her. She was surprised. She knew some boys masturbated because her mother talked about how nasty and dirty it was. She never heard about how nasty and dirty women masturbating was because her mother didn't believe that woman masturbated. She never thought her brother masturbated. Ever.
This was her first view of an erect penis outside a soaking wet magazine she had found one rainy day in the bushes near her school. Her brother looked like he might be big too. He was at least as long as a pen and about as big around as a roll of quarters. She frigged herself harder as she watched him rub the suds up and down along his shaft. He closed his eyes and rocked his hips
slowly. Suddenly she had an idea.
She crept down the hallway to the hall closet and opened it gingerly. Inside, on the top shelf was an old Polaroid Sun 660. She checked to see that it was loaded and then crept back. Brian was on his tip toes and his hand was moving faster. His hips thrust out in front of him and he was singing at the top of his lungs. She slipped through the open door and ducked her head into the
gap in the shower curtain. Before Brian knew what was happening, Flash! Then, the farty little whine Polaroids make and the camera spat out a gray picture.
"Lauren!" Brian bellowed in fear and surprise, "NO!" he chased her naked out of the bathroom crying and screaming at her not to tell. "Please Laurie, gimmie the picture, Please, please, please!" His voice was horse and he crumpled against the side of the couch sobbing. Lauren was wagging the picture around in the air, trying to develop it faster.
"No way Bry! I'm keeping it! I'm gonna tell mom all about that nasty disgusting thing you were doing in there!" Lauren acted stern. "We're going to have to stay in the bathroom with you when you shower so we can make sure you can't do that anymore."
"NO!" Brian bawled. "No, you can't! I'll never do it again, I swear! I swear to God, Jesus, Mary and Joseph, I'll never do it again, ever, ever!" He fell completely to the floor and cried on his prostrate arms. Lauren tucked the, as yet undeveloped, picture into her back pocket. She looked down at the bony ridge of his spine poking out of his scrawny back, watched it jump under his skin violently as he sobbed. She suddenly felt worse than she ever had in her entire life. Her stomach turned and her throat hardened into a baseball.
Tears leaked from her eyes and her knees buckled. She dropped down slowly and hugged her naked convulsing brother. "I'm sorry Brian, I'm sorry. I'll never tell mom, I won't, really I won't. I'm sorry I took that picture, I won't show it to her, I won't."
She hugged him and rocked him for a long time, stroking his soapy hair, murmuring to him. At some point he fell asleep, though it was likely more because he was emotionally tired than because of his condition.
While he was asleep she took another picture of the inside of the shower with the water running. The she went to the stove and lit the corner of it on fire. She put out the fire when it had burnt away the place in the shower where Brian would have been standing. When he woke up, she showed him the picture.
"Hey, Brian?" She said, gently shaking him until he finally awoke. "Look Brian, I burned the picture up, see here it is." He looked at the remaining corner of the Polaroid and saw the tub and a shadow he took to be his own. He took the picture and crumpled it in his hand until his knuckles were white.
"Why'd ya take it, Laurie?" He asked her quietly, not looking at her. "Why'd you want ta do that?"
"I don't know ... I, I never saw a boy do that before. I wanted to rib you about it. I thought it would be funny, I wasn't really gonna show mom."
"Really mean thing to do, sis." He said. "Even for you." This stung her and he was glad and sorry at the same time.
That night, after their mother had come home and everyone was in bed, Lauren took the picture out of the back pocket of her pants. She hadn't looked at it yet. On a sudden impulse, she tossed it hard into the trash by her bed. She lay there looking at the ceiling for a long time thinking about how her brother had looked crying on the floor, his spine twitching. How awful she had
"God, I'm slime." She said reaching over the side of the bed and fishing the Polaroid out of the trash. It was blurry. She had taken the picture without thinking very much about the camera and it had probably been toggled on the little tree setting instead of the little flower setting. Only one part of the image was crystal clear. A small puff of suds clinging to his blurry knuckle coming off the end of his cock. Only his torso was in the frame. The bottom of the picture was a streaky purple blur that was probably his shadow. Near the top of the frame was a fuzzy nipple and part of a distorted shoulder. In the bottom center of the picture was his erect penis covered mostly by his blurred, moving hand. Just that one small fragment of clarity. To her, the suds on his knuckle looked the way she imagined cum would look like spit over the top of his hand.
Her hand flinched toward the garbage again but she couldn't let go of the picture. Instead, she pulled her jammies off and played with her cunt.
Over the next week, she watched her brother without incident. She did not play with herself in his sleeping presence and she didn't tease him the way she normally did. For that week she was kind to him and was content to masturbate to the picture at night.
The frustration ebbed back however, as she became fixated on the idea that she wanted to see his prick again. When he was asleep, she would glance at his crotch and wonder at it and then tear herself away and watch the TV.
She masturbated that night thinking about his prick. Imagining herself taking it out of his pants while he was asleep, playing with it. Perhaps even tasting it. This thought excited her so much she pushed a forth finger into her cunt and ground the heel of her hand against her pubic mound.
She woke up many times that night and each time she was unable to get back to sleep until she had masturbated. She pushed four fingers in up to the last knuckles, clenched her legs together around them and slept like that until morning.
When she woke up, her fingertips were wrinkled and pruney. There was a white jello-ey guck clinging between the spaces in her hands. She washed her hands and sat on the toilet and pissed. Her pussy felt very sore.
At school, she had to go to the girls room at every break and fuck herself. She was raw but couldn't stop herself, the feeling just wouldn't go away. One of the boys teased her about her nipples because they were pooching out of her shirt. She went to the bathroom and masturbated about that. Every little thought seemed to set her off and she had to rub herself to just to calm down.
When she got home she felt dirty and out of control. She felt a victim of her own treacherous body. It wouldn't let her think and it wouldn't let her recover. She just had to keep feeding the horrible thing fingers until she burned and was so frustrated she could cry. She went right to her room and tried to sleep but couldn't do that either.
She took a hot shower and rubbed lotion into her burning vulva. Soon she was masturbating again. She wanted to take the lotion back to her room with her but her mother was still home.
As her mother packed lunch she was very subdued. She sat on the couch and looked through, rather than watched, the television. Her brother sat down next to her and stared through the television too. Their mother left the house, happy her kids seemed to be getting along so well these days.
Once Brian nodded off, she was around the couch in a flash. She had her hands on his fly in an instant and they were shaking. What if he woke up right now? She asked herself. How would she explain this? She would show him the picture, that's how, she would tell him not to tell about her or she would tell about him.
Even so. Even so this did not ease her enough. God she was scared. She unzipped his fly and got his button undone with shaky fingertips. "Fuck!" She whispered. He had jockeys on underneath. "Fuck!" She repeated. She touched his penis through them and started to slip her fingers into the tight overflap fly. Brian murmured. She froze. Swallowed hard. Sweat popped out on her forehead and trickled between her shoulder blades.
She waited several moments there, he hand on his penis through his jockeys, totally still. Then she quickly zipped his fly up and tried to button his button. Her hands were trembling too much and her fingertips were slick with sweat.
Brian moved and she yanked her hands away from his fly. Sat down quickly, away from him on the couch. Her heart was thudding. Brian opened his eyes and looked at her momentarily with half lids. Then he closed them again and went back to sleep.
Lauren raced out of the room, beads of perspiration running down her neck into her cleavage. She darted into the bathroom, grabbed the big bottle of St. Ives, lotion with the extra lanolin and shut herself in her room. She barricaded the door with laundry hampers and chairs and tore off all her clothes.
She tossed herself on the bed with legs spread wide and squirted a huge dollop of lotion on her hand. It was feeding time. The finger eater was starving and it's hateful roar filled her mind.
With no ceremony whatsoever she jammed four fingers into her raging cunt, blob of lotion and all, and began to punch herself angrily. She ground her palm hard against her clit, wanting to rub the horrible itch out of existence. Her fingertips clawed at her insides trying to satiate the stupid beast. There was a demon in her and the only way to exorcise it was to get in there and yank it out.
She twisted her hand and pressed her thumb to her opening, opening up all her fingers, she stretched it as wide as it would allow. Her entire hand slipped in and white light flashed over her vision. She inhaled a scream and her lungs filled to bursting. She held them like that for many moments on end. She finally exhaled and felt dizzy. The beast had eaten her entire hand up to the wrist, only now did it calm; some.
Slowly she worked the fist around inside her. Bursts of intense pleasure hit her randomly. It seemed almost anything she did would cause strong reactions. She could feel what she knew to be her cervix with her knuckle tips. This was fascinating to her. She would twist just slightly and fireworks would go off in front of her eyes and she would be left breathless. This is what it feels like to be dead, she thought, just like this.
She explored this way for close to an hour. During that time she was high as a kite. Her eyes had glazed over and her heart beat had slowed. She spent that time riding sensation and thinking of nothing at all. Nothing she had ever experienced in her short life was anything like this.
Emotionally and physically exhausted, she pulled her hand out of herself. Doing so felt like her insides were being flushed out with it. It was like voiding the bowels for the soul. She slept, cum and lotion drooling out of her abused cunt. She felt wretched and holy at the same time. She fell asleep calm and content for the first time in recent memory. Completely husked out.
For the next few days she did not feel the need to masturbate. She was still cruising on a long flat high that made her happy, if a bit aloof. She was dreamy in class and mellow at home. Both her mother and brother wondered at this but never asked. The monster between her legs was asleep and snoring peacefully.
As the feelings of need came back she took care of them efficiently and moved on. For a while she thought maybe she could live normally, treat her sexual urges like some kind of insulin shot, medicate when needed. Only as the need grew, so did the guilt. It didn't seem so wrong to masturbate when she didn't need to do it every day, many times a day. The more she needed it though, the more she felt guilty and the more she wanted to feel better and so the more she masturbated. It wasn't long before she was fantasizing about her brother again and staring at the Polaroid.
She was afraid to try anything again. His near waking the last time had shaken her confidence quite badly and she needed to recoup it. Thus the whole process of doing dirtier and dirtier things in his sleeping presence had to start from the beginning.
She started one evening by quietly rubbing herself through her pants while she sat next to him. When he didn't wake after fifteen minutes, she took her pants down to the knees and played with her exposed cunt. The next night she undressed completely and masturbated with her mother's cross.
Things progressed faster this time. This was partly because of her kindness toward Brain over the last couple weeks was regaining his trust. Partly because her confidence was building faster. Brian wasn't on guard as much and so he was dropping off easier and sleeping longer. Also, summer was coming and their clothing was becoming less restrictive.
Her mother would allow her to wear long dresses in the summer and Brian started wearing shorts. This made things much easier for Lauren.
When her urges came on one night while her mother was still home, she took the ultimate dare. Brian was laying down on the couch, his arms over his head and a pair of loose fitting shorts and a tee were all that clothed him. Their mother was in the kitchen cooking them all some lunch and singing a hymn to her self.
Lauren crept over to the couch on her hands and knees looking toward the kitchen and then back to Brian. She grabbed his ankle and shook him. He didn't wake. She tickled his bare foot. Still no response. Watching the kitchen entry, she caressed his calf and then the back of his knee. Her hands moved furtively upward. Her eyes darted between the kitchen and Brian's sleeping face. Her heart made whooshing sounds in her ears. Then her hand was up his pant leg and rubbing his soft cock through his underwear. She couldn't believe she was doing this with her mother right there! Her hand was actually on--his--cock! The excitement was almost too much to bear. Her cunt was on fire but she was afraid to touch it. Feeling bold and crazy, she wiggled her fingers into the leg
hole of his jockeys and a second later she was cupping his balls and his cock. The thrill sent her over the edge and she was cumming into her panties. She kneaded it gently and imagined what it must look like. She felt like she might faint. The excitement and fear was so strong she might have just collapsed with her hand up his pants.
Her mother walked out of view and she heard a cupboard door open. She knew she should take her hand out now but she couldn't. She wanted to see how long she could get away with it! She was fascinated by the feeling of his soft wrinkly flesh.
Then the flesh began to change. She felt a gentle pulse through it and it expanded. She was transfixed by the feeling. She was witnessing an erection. To her it might as well have been the eruption of a volcano. Now she could not have moved with the help of a towtruck. His heart beat strong and his cock jumped each time. She rubbed it up and down, all over and clenched her legs
Then Brain began to move around; but she still couldn't stop. She was only distantly aware that her mother was still in the next room and if she came in now there would be no explaining her way out of this. Also, if Brian woke up now, he would yell and bring her in. All this but she could not stop.
She stroked him faster and he tossed a little and murmured low. She realized he was dreaming a sexy dream. I caused that! She thought. I can control his dreams! She was cumming again now and she shut her eyes tight. He was gently thrashing in her hand. His hips were moving and he was fucking her palm. Everything before her vision was red.
Then he stiffened and gasped. She was too far gone to worry about her mother. His prick was pumping hot creamy stuff onto her hand. She held it until the end when he finally relaxed. When he wasn't moving at all, she slowly removed her hand, streaking his cum down his thigh. She sat down heavy. Her jaw was hanging open. She was totally out of energy.
She stared at her palm, glazed with his sticky whitish cum. On an impulse, she sniffed it, licked it from a fingertip. She looked up at the doorway and there was her mother, looking stricken.
She yulped and her heart stopped a beat. Then the vision vanished. Her mother was still in the kitchen humming to herself. It took several seconds for her to calm after her fright. Then, she sat with her back against the couch.
She licked the cum again. The taste was terrible. It tasted like salty chalk dust and aspirin. She licked it again. It was thrilling. Her nipples hardened. She sat there and took her time, daintily licking her brother's cum off of her fingers, palm and wrist. The area between her legs, completely wet and when she clenched her hips, she felt liquid gooshing around down there.
When her mother finally did come out of the kitchen, Lauren was totally composed. Her brother had turned onto his side and was cuddled up with his hands under his head. Lauren fiddled with a small gob of cum under her nail. Their mother smiled, completely unaware of what had just happened. She placed two plates of potatoes on the coffee table. "Wake your Brother Lauren, it's time to eat."
"Sure mom!" Lauren was bright and looked relaxed. Inside, she was cool and felt a kind of supreme confidence she had not felt before in her life. She woke Brian for food. A short while into the meal, he looked very uncomfortable, frowned and excused himself to go to the bathroom. "Brian has gas," she whispered to her mother. They both giggled.
Her mother fussed in the kitchen for a long time before she left for work. Lauren didn't get fidgety like she had on other nights when she was planning to fool around in front of her brother. That eerie stillness was on her and she patiently waited for her mother to finish up and leave.
This night, Lauren would woo her brother. She would make him feel very safe. She would speak to him in soft tones and be agreeable, loving. She took the Monopoly board from the closet and began setting it up on the floor. She brought juice in and stacked pillows to relax on. Her trap was set.
Brian came in from the bathroom and saw the Monopoly board. Usually Mother was the only one who would play Monopoly with him. He hadn't played with his older sister in months. She was known to be a sore loser and would scatter the board when she lost and toss pieces across the room. Tonight she had seemed mellow however and so, he thought, she might play nice this time.
She did play nice. At first, Brian didn't try very hard to win, fearing to beat her. Then he won small pieces of property and started stacking up cash. She was very civil and seemed to be really enjoying the game. Before long, he was beating the pants off her. They were giggling and having a fine time. Soon they were talking smack at each other good-naturedly and laughing uproariously.
"This is nice." She said to him after a while. She meant it. It was nice, she was having fun and she didn't feel hateful toward him. It was the first real laughter they had shared in a very long time. He looked at her straight for a moment and then grinned guilelessly. "Yeah it is. We're always fighting, we should do things like this more often." "Yeah, we should. We will." She smiled. She was telling the truth but did not know she was lying.
Brian didn't go to sleep for a long time but Lauren didn't mind. She was enjoying his company and she was feeling a kind of patience that was nearly spectacular. They talked for hours and he would come close to falling asleep but would pull himself out of it. Lauren knew this wasn't his narcolepsy, just plain natural tiredness. When he had a spell, he would just conk out with no preamble. Either way, she was actually enjoying him awake. They laid back on the pillows and bullshitted about school and he told her of a crush he had been having on a girl in his French class. Then he just yawned once and went slack on his pile of pillows.
"Brian?" She felt a little disappointed. This surprised her. She didn't expect to miss her brother's company once he was asleep. "Brian?" She shook him gently. He didn't stir. His breathing was deep and slow. She sat there staring at his face and caressing it for a long time. He looked beautiful asleep. Part of her didn't want to do anything to him now. Part of her just wanted to go
to bed and be satisfied with the nice night they had had together. She almost stood several times.
She caressed his neck and his ear lobes and his collarbone. She petted his hair and forehead brushing soft brown bangs out of his eyes. He was laying on his back with his head to one side. She nestled up next to him and put her forehead to his looking into his sleeping eyes. She lay like that for a very long time rubbing his chest and inhaling his sleeping breath. Suddenly, she kissed him on the lips and smiled. She felt love for him now, love for her big warm doll. She kissed him again, sucking on his lip this time and then nuzzled into his neck. She was rubbing his belly now and she slipped her hand under his shirt. She played with his nipples and kissed him on the neck, the chin, his ear.
Her leg crept up over his and she wrapped her arm around his back, pressing herself against him. Her fires, relatively quite since her mother had left, now were rising. She brushed her nipples against him. Moved her leg up and down over his. She began licking his neck and kissing his shoulder. "I love you Brian." She whispered in his ear. She was getting slightly high from the sensual contact. "I love you." Brian slept.
Her hand moved down his belly and she rubbed her leg across his pelvis excited by the feel of his flaccid penis through his night shorts on her knee. She slipped her hand down his waistband. His pubic hair was soft and downy. She was sucking on his neck lightly and rubbing herself harder against his thigh. Under the jockeys waistband and finally her hand closed around his penis,
small and delicate. "Mmmmmm," she hummed and closed her eyes, breathing in deeply. She played with his little balls and explored his perineum with her fingertips, pressing occasionally.
She kissed him again, not worried that he might wake up, in her mind he was hers now. She pushed her tongue in his mouth and explored his teeth. Aware only in his sleep that his air passage was somehow being blocked, he turned his head away from her and huffed. She growled in his ear in a way she thought seductive and dipped her tongue in his ear. She gripped his penis, raised his shirt and suckled his nipples. As he started to finally get hard she sucked and
The position of her hand down his pants was awkward and she pulled it out. She moved down his torso and lifted his butt enough to get his shorts down. His jockeys came next and his half hard penis moved around on his belly like a lazy cat. She grabbed it and looked at it intently from very close up. It looked very different from the men she had seen in the soaked magazine. It had
less hair and there were no discernible veins popping up from it's surface. It was smooth and blemish less. It was also clean from his recent shower and did not smell.
She put it into her mouth experimentally, testing the texture and the taste. It had little taste, not much different from the flesh of his neck. The head had a slightly bumpy texture around the collar, similar to the surface of his tongue. Then smooth as silk near his pee hole. She closed her eyes and sucked it into the back of her mouth.
This made it jump slightly. The pace of his erection sped up dramatically. Soon it was incredibly hard and pulsing in her mouth. She looked at it, the veins standing out now. It was as if she now held his heart instead of his cock. The beat was so strong that to her it seemed that it might be a separate entity, some agitated snake attached permanently to his front, attempting to disconnect it's self by jumping off.
She took him into her mouth again pushing the head deep into the back of her throat and sucking hard as she pulled away. She liked the varied tactile sensations, the course hair on his nuts, the fine fluff above the base of his penis, the soft and silky skin of his shaft and the rubbery head. Beyond being just erotic, there was a cat like curiosity and wonder that was being fulfilled.
Without warning his hips bucked. The head of his prick bounced against her tonsils and caused her to gag slightly. Suddenly there was a flood of asprainey tasting goo spitting out of the pee hole. She backed off. She had never seen a man come. It was a little like holding a lit bottle rocket and wondering which way it was going to shoot off. Brian moaned in his sleep. She squeezed his prick and milked it like the udder of a goat until it seemed to taper off. Then she began to lap at it like a dog.
Again it tasted awful but it was sexy. She felt intensely guilty again and her nipples became so hard they felt as though they might crack. She was unaware of the Pavlovian reaction she was having to the guilt of her sexuality. Guilt and the feeling of filth was so much a part of her feelings about sex that she was becoming aroused by guilt it's self. The guilt tasted bitter and was oh so sweet.
In Brian's dream he was running very fast through a field. Next to him there were wild horses galloping thundering past him. His lungs were full of a sweet air that was gently fragranced with lavender and the scent of hot horse hair. The grass around him was just shin height and whickered against his calves and tickled his feet. Then he was a horse and he was moving incredible fast, his great lungs sucking in impossible amounts of air. He could feel a giant penis slapping against one hind leg and then the other as he ran and a wetness from it. Before him was a mare. He was chasing her and she was looking playfully back to him. She would slow, sidestep and then as he closed the gap, bounding off like waterstrider disturbed ...
Lauren looked down at her sleeping brother. His face looked serene and he was snuggling into his pillow. She slowly lifted her long skirt to her knees and pull off her socks. As she did this, she rubbed his legs.
... The sky, a piercing blue a moment before, darkened and heavy clouds rolled in with unnatural speed ...
She took off her top and let her pudgy, sweaty breasts fall free. She was moving very slow. Her heart alternately raced and then calmed. Raced and calmed. She removed her dress completely and placed her hands again on his softening dick. Brian started to move in his sleep. She hushed him.
... He looked up at the strange roiling clouds pounding across the sky. His serenity was fading. He looked ahead in time to see the mare he had been pursuing jump her hind legs into the air and slam a shattering kick full into his unprotected muzzle ...
Lauren stroked his penis slowly and petted his chest. Her puss was drooling onto the calf of her leg she had folded under her. She put her hand to herself and it came away glittering with liquid. She rubbed it on his penis carefully. Slowly.
... He saw blasts of white light and fell fast and hard and on his back. She came around like a shark, eyes flashing against the tumultuous sky, raised up and her sharp hooves crashed down on his chest ...
Lauren put her mouth to it again and tasted herself on his member. She was savoring the anticipation. Savoring like rare fruit or liquor. He was squirming now and mumbling in his sleep. "Shhhhh." She said.
... Everything went red and a brilliant pain lanced through his flank. When the red cleared, he saw her bared teeth and wild eyes. Her black mane whipping in a terrible wind. Her hooves came down on him again and he tried to roll. She caught him in the ribs and his whole frame quivered, the pain was dull and complete ...
Lauren smeared more of her juice on his penis and licked it off. He was turning over now and she wanted to stop him. She reached her hand out and it snapped around his wrist like a trap. She held it firm and pushed his cock hard into the back of her throat. She was moving fast now. She knew she didn't have much time.
... He rolled the other way and a hard kick snapped his left front ankle like rotten wood. When his vision came back again, the mare was sitting on him, her gnashing teeth inches from his face, great furry breasts swinging pendulum like over him, eyes crazy and dark ...
"Shhhhhh." She whispered, "Be still Brian." She was sitting on his upper thighs now. He was hard but not rock hard. She felt his wet prick against her belly and it excited her. She rubbed her wet sex against it, trying not to rush, trying to still savor. "Shhhhhh, baby, Shhhhhh. I love you Brian." She crooned, "I love you baby."
... "I love you Brian!" The mare screamed at him. She was biting on his ear now. "I love you! Do you hear me? I LOVE you, Brian!" He was sprayed with rabid foam and her full weight was crushed down upon him ...
Lauren grazed the head of his cock with her open cunt. The urge to simply sit straight down on it was incredibly strong. She was technically a virgin though she had broken her hymen long ago. She rubbed her wet pussy on his belly and teased her opening by letting it touch her, poke slightly into her, then she'd pull away.
... He felt something hot and greasy slathering his belly and felt like she was shitting on him, rubbing it against him. His long floppy cock was betraying him, It was hard. She was screaming at him ...
Lauren kissed his neck and his lips, cooed in his ear. She slid her ass toward his cock and let it peek into her opening. This time she did not draw away. She breathed raggedly and pushed herself onto it.
... The mare bit and tore at his lips and he felt his penis suddenly dive into something warm and gooey. He was suffocating, suffocating, suffocating, suffo ...
She gripped his head and pulled it into her bosom humping up and down on him. God fucking DAMN! It felt good! He was thrashing now, clawing at her back and she fucked him. She fucked herself on his cock like he was a toy horse on springs.
She was only vaguely aware that he was awake and screaming into her breasts. She pushed his face deeper into her cleavage and fucked him. He was pushing at her belly with all his might and his hair, sweaty, slipped out of her hands. She could hear him screaming loud but it was far away from her.
"What are you doing!?!" His voice was horse and braying. "What are you doing?" His vocal cords sounded torn and his yelling sounded somehow mechanical, rusty. "Get off of me! Lauren, get off of me!" He was flailing at her and trying to push but she caught his wrists and pinned him to the floor. He looked at her face and couldn't see her. Her hair was wet and stringy and hung in front of her eyes. She wasn't looking at him, she was looking at the place where their genitals met and she was jumping up and down on him violently. "STOP!!" He cried, his voice like a bullfrog, blatting and raw. "Lauren, please stop it, please Laureeeeen." This last word drawn out in a cry, stretched and warped.
"Shut up." She whispered between breaths, her voice husky. "Shut up." She raised and slammed down on him. "Shut up." Raised and slammed, breathed. "Shut up." She was making a rhythm. She was moving up and down faster and breathing harder. "SHUT up!" She yelled at his crying. "SHUT UP!" Up and slam. "SHUT THE FUCK UP!" up and slam. God DAMN it SHUT UP!" Up and slam. Faster. Up and slam. He broke a wrist free and clawed at her face but had no nails to tear at her with. Up and slam. Up and slam.
Brian was thrashing hard now and crying loud. She could not understand what he was saying. It was intelligible stupid drivel. All she cared about was finishing. All she needed now was to cum and it was close.
"LAAaaaauuureeeeeEEEn!!!" He screamed, his voice failing and breaking apart. "Stooooop! I'm gonna tell! Laureeen, I'm gonna tell! Stop, I'm gonna tell!" He repeated over and over.
"SHUT-THE-FUCK-UP!" She bellowed. What he was saying was finally penetrating her. "Shut the fuck up! You better not tell! You better not fucking TELL!" She was just on the edge of orgasm. She was scared and out of control. He was still blaring about telling mom, still yelling, he wouldn't shut up! The neighbors were going to hear! He was going to tell MOM!
She reached out and her hand came back with a ceramic lamp. Without thinking she slammed it against his temple at the exact moment she came. She came shaking and convulsing and she gripped the pillow on either side of his head. She felt it wet with blood and her legs were spasming. She felt her vagina contract hard on his cock and she clamped her knees against his sides. He entire body was one clenched fist.
She must have fainted. When she came back to herself she was still sitting atop her brother. She squeezed the muscles deep inside her vagina and found that her brother's penis was still inside her, still hard but without the slightest movement. She looked down at her brother's face. He looked shocked and very still. His hair was matted with blood and it had pooled in his ear. The
pillow he was lying on was dark maroon. Her hands were caked with drying blood, seeped from the pillow.
She touched his face softly, some small cry welling up in her throat. It was still warm but not very. He was very still. She pressed her hand to his jugular, no pulse. His chest, no breath. His eyes were open. The broken lamp lay next to his head on the floor.
Slowly, she lifted herself off his body. Some part of her was reluctant to let him slip out of her. It seemed final. She sat down on the couch, looking at him for a long time. She felt like crying but didn't. Felt like screaming but didn't. Mostly, She was numb.
After a long time, she got up, went to the bathroom and cleaned up. She went to the kitchen and got a dustpan and broom. She swept up the shards of lamp and then picked the tiny pieces out of the carpet. She bagged them in a tall kitchen liner and set the bag in the garage. She did all of this naked, hardly looking at the doll on the floor. When she did, she noticed always that he had an erection. He would always have an erection now.
She lay garbage bags on the floor in the hallway and then dragged his body over them to the bathroom. He was so much heavier dead. Then she just let him lie there on the linoleum for a long time looking at him. She sat on the toilet, talking to him.
She had a long, very emotional, conversation with him. She told him how this was his fault and how he should have just shut up. She told him how sorry she was and she cried and begged him to forgive her. She said how angry mom would be at him for getting himself killed and how stupid he was for dying. Most of all, she told him she loved him and that she would make it all better. She even told him how much she had loved fucking him and how she thought she might like to do it now. She told him she would resist this urge because she respected him so much. Then she told him good-bye.
Then she got up, dressed, removed the bloody pillow into a bag in the garage, cleaned the floor and came back. She turned on the water full, hugged his bleeding head to her bosom and cried ferociously. She talked to him more as she put him into the shower and washed him off. She washed everything. Washed her fingerprints off of him especially. She washed his head and posed him face down with one arm twisted behind his back.
When she ran out of tears, she called the police and waited in the living room, sitting on the spot where the bloody pillow had been until the ambulance arrived. The rest was easy.
When the ambulance arrived, she was crumpled on the rug crying, her dress splashed with water and blood. Drips of diluted blood from the bathroom to the phone to the spot she where she sat now. Crying real tears.
Her mother came home and was hysterical for a while, then held her while she told the police and her mother her story. She was watching TV and listening to Brian sing in the shower. Then he stopped and she heard a crash. She ran to the shower and found her brother collapsed with blood pouring out of his head and she tried to lift him out but he was slippery. She couldn't find a
pulse and she tried to give him mouth to mouth but he was dead. She was so scared and she couldn't leave him. Finally, she called the police. She was hysterical on the phone and could only sit and cry on the rug after that. The police and the ambulance driver were appropriately compassionate.
Lauren knew that she had grabbed his wrist hard enough to bruise. She knew that there were several other places he might have bruised too. She didn't have to worry about that though, he was dead before any bruises could form. She had also washed all the little pieces of lamp out of his hair and the spot on the carpet now had an alibi. Her mom may not have noticed the missing lamp yet and tomorrow she would clean it up and pretend to break it while in a fit, crying over her newly dead brother. The pillow she would burn.
As they rolled him out his mother saw his erection and was mortified. My god, she thought, he was jerking off in the shower and god punished him! Lauren saw the tent in the blanket and a wave of fierce guilt swept over her. She felt worse when this made her vulva quiver. She thought about him laying there on the bathroom floor when she was talking to him and looking at his prick.
She hadn't been able to resist her urges after all.