The thing about Cecile, one of the things about Cecile, that made me crazy was that sex with her could be fantastic. But only if she was into it. She did things to my pussy that literally no-one had ever done before. She could make me come over and over and over again, until I was a boneless mass of quivering protoplasm splayed out across her mattress; or she could torment me for hours, holding me on the very razor’s edge of excitement, teetering on the precipice of orgasm, softly torturing me, until it finally suited her whim to let me come. And when I did come, let me tell you, it was explosive! She could make me shoot off like a guy. But only when she felt like it. And more often than not lately, it seemed like she didn’t feel like it.
I came home to what I still thought of as our parents’ house grouchy and depressed. It had been another frustrating date with Cecile. We had been together for over six months, and she still called them ‘dates’. She refused to let me call her my ‘girlfriend’, and any mention of exclusivity or monogamy inevitably ended up in a fight. I felt like she was just hanging around with me until something better came along.
It had been a crappy evening. We’d had another fight, I can’t even remember what about, it was something small and stupid, I’m sure. Then we’d had make-up sex. I’d put everything I had into it. I fucked her out behind her apartment, next to the dumpster, while she leaned up against a utility pole. We had kissed in the alley for a while, and then she had squirmed out of her panties. I stuffed them into my back pocket for safe keeping. We kissed some more, and this time I played with her big, melon-sized tits through her shirt, pinching and twisting her nipples, and biting her lips hard until she had growled and yowled like an alley cat. I dropped down onto my knees on the asphalt, and she lifted up one leg and rested it on my shoulder. I lifted up her short black skirt and fucked her smooth, swollen cunt hard, with three fingers. She was sopping wet. I kept the flat of my tongue pressed up against her swollen little clit, and when she came, she howled it out to the whole night.
She did me too; I unbuttoned my jeans, and she hugged me from behind and slipped a hand inside my panties and fingered me while I leaned against the steel emergency exit door of her apartment building, but before that really got me anywhere, she complained that her arm was cramping up, and quit. We had kissed goodnight; a chaste, perfunctory kiss; and we parted ways, and I went home, wet and irritated and horny.
My older brother Dave was sitting on the couch, typing into his laptop. His wheelchair was parked nearby. He looked up from the little LCD screen as I walked in the front door. “Hey Booger Eater, get me a beer, would ya?”
Dave is sixteen years older than me. I was, as he likes to remind me, an accident on our late parents’ part. Dave was a teensy bit bitter. He’d joined the army after high school hoping to raise money for college, and ended up losing both his legs, just above the knee, during the first gulf war. He never did get his degree.
“Fuck you Fucktard,” I said, trying to sound cheerful, “Get it yourself.”
“Come on,” he said, “Give me a break. I’m a cripple.” Dave doesn’t leave the house very often. I think he’s embarrassed to. He claims to be working on a novel, but I’ve never seen anything he’s written.
“Lazy is what you are,” I said, but I went into the kitchen and fetched him a beer anyway.
I brought his beer back into the living room. When I bent over to hand Dave his cold, sweating bottle, Cecile’s red panties fell out of my back pocket onto the hardwood floor.
“Rough night?” Dave asked wryly. I don’t think he’d been with a girl since he was in high school.
I sighed. “You have no idea.”
“Open it for me,” he said. Normally I would have given him a smarty-pants answer, but this time I just took the bottle back, grabbed the Homer Simpson bottle opener off the side table, and popped off the cap. When I bent over again to hand him his beer, Dave reached up and cupped my breast.
I didn’t jerk away. I didn’t call him a rude name. I didn’t shriek or squeal. Instead, I sort of lurched forward onto his lap. His hand stayed firmly on my breast.
He kissed me, straight on the lips, and I kissed him hungrily back. My nipples stiffened and stood up inside my bra. His tongue slipped inside my mouth and met mine. It felt weird to be kissing my own brother; weird and disturbing. But my cunt had other ideas.
I broke off the kiss, and got down to the business of tugging off Dave’s pants. It was surprisingly easy to do without legs in the way. His stumps ended a foot or so below his hips; I’d never looked at them closely before. The head of his dick was peeking out the waistband of his tighty-whities, straining to get free. I hooked my thumbs under the elastic, and yanked down his briefs, and his cock sprung out and up like a booby trap.
He had nice gear, though he could have used a trim. I hadn’t played with a cock at all in a very long time; I’d been exclusively a pussy-licker since my last year of high school. I thought I’d completely given up on dick. Still and all, he had nice gear: not too crazy big, certainly not too small, nice and thick and pleasingly sculpted. It was a sexy-looking cock. Even if it did belong to my brother.
I squirmed and wiggled out of my own jeans and panties. The process was made slightly harder by the fact that Dave now had both hands under my polo shirt and was feeling up my tits. My boobs aren’t normally all that erogenous; but the whole situation had me hotter than I could remember being in a long time. My pussy was absolutely drenched. My clit throbbed with every heartbeat, and my cunt drooled avidly in anticipation of what was coming.
I didn’t waste any time. Grasping his cock firmly in one hand, I clambered up onto Dave’s lap and sat down hard on his erection.
We both held our breaths for a moment, suddenly paralyzed, as the length and breadth of his cock penetrated my pussy, filling and stretching my hungry cunt until his furry bush was pressed up against my closely trimmed crotch, and his big fat ball sac nestled up against my ass.
We kept on kissing like wildcats, his hands now partway inside my bra, and we inadvertently tumbled off the couch. I ended up flat on my back on the wood floor, with him on top of me.
He weighed almost nothing. Dave has always been a skinny bean, and without legs, he’s a real feather-weight. When we fell off the couch, he had somehow slipped all the way out of my twat. His slippery, hot cock was nudging eagerly against my inner thigh. I grasped a firm, tight buttock in each hand, and pulled him hard back inside me.
Dave came almost immediately, but that was okay, because I did too. He squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his jaw and bared his teeth, and I felt his cock shudder and squirt inside me, flooding me with his semen. “Keep fucking!” I growled in his ear, grinding up against him, and pulling him into me like a dildo. I could feel his cock softening inside me, but it was enough. I came, hard, snarling and grunting, devouring his cock with my juicy cunt. The orgasm seemed to go on and on forever, and my clit trembled as the aftershocks rumbled through my body. It felt nice to have him on top of me, and inside me. He kissed me some more, and for a moment I thought he was going to get hard all over again, and we’d do an instant replay.
But we didn’t. After a while, his soft penis slipped out of my satisfied and sodden pussy. Between the two of us, we had made quite a mess! There was generous wet spot on the old couch, and Dave’s come was still oozing out of me. He seemed kind of dazed. I felt a little dazed myself. I helped him up and into his wheelchair, kissed him playfully on the nose, and went upstairs to my own bedroom. I slept hard that night.
I woke up late the next morning, with a sudden start, as if I had accidentally stuck my toe in a wall outlet. I sat bolt upright in bed. I had just had sex with my own brother. Unprotected sex with my own brother. I pulled on some clothes, hoping to catch Dave at breakfast and talk with him about what had happened before I had to go to class. I was going to tell him that I didn’t regret what had happened, that I certainly didn’t blame him, but that it had been a mistake, a blunder, a one-time-only event; we should both forget it had ever happened.
Dave wasn’t at breakfast, which wasn’t all that unusual. He’s an early riser. I could hear the shower running as I ate my soggy cornflakes and mulled over the night before. On the one hand, I couldn’t believe I’d fucked him –my own brother– without even so much as a condom. I would have to swing by the clinic and get my hands on a morning after pill. I wasn’t about to take that chance.
On the other hand, the sex had been good. Really really good. Just going back over the details of the encounter was making me warm and moist all over again. Damn, and then I realized that I’d just cheated on Cecile, cheated on her in a most gratuitous and flagrant way. But then again, she was the one who didn’t want to be in a monogamous relationship.
The shower was still running. He had been in there for a long time. Now I was starting to get worried. It wasn’t impossible that he had fallen and hit his head. ‘That’, I thought, ‘Would be just about typical.’ I decided to go check up on him.
His wheelchair was parked next to the shower stall, and the translucent glass was all steamed up. I tapped on the glass, then slid the shower door open.
Dave was sitting under the stream of water on his special shower chair. He was, of course, quite completely naked. He didn’t have a bad body, not at all. His upper half was pretty ripped. He had a long white scar across his shoulder I’d never known about. His penis was sitting between his leg-stumps, soft and thick and fat, like a delicious Chinese noodle. I asked if he was ok, and he looked up at me, and then we made eye contact and it was like the catalyst to a chemical reaction.
And don’t you know it? Instead of telling Dave all the sensible, rational things I had been stewing over and rehearsing all morning, I found myself pulling off my top and climbing into the shower along with him.
The hot water pretty much instantly soaked through my jeans, but I really didn’t care. I went straight to work making that soft cock nice and hard.
When was the last time I had given a blowjob? I can tell you pretty much exactly: it was in the fall of my Junior year of high school, in the back seat of Mom’s beige Chevy Astro, with Bobby Marsella, my first and last real boyfriend. I hadn’t really appreciated it at the time, or maybe I had just forgotten: just how fun and gratifying it is to give a man oral pleasure. When you suck a guy’s dick, you get results!
Dave did not disappoint. His cock responded immediately to the attention my fingers and mouth gave it. He was soon stiff and hard and inside my mouth. My big brother possessed one really nice dick. It wasn’t porn-star big, just pleasingly sizeable. If I were to design a dildo, I’d use him as a mold. I could get almost all of it inside my mouth, if I really tried, but a more effective technique was to slurp my tongue all over the top half and especially the swollen red head, tracing his contours and exploring with the tip of my tongue; while I kept my hands moving constantly up and down his hard shaft.
I got him nice and revved up in no time. Pretty soon, his breathing was hard and raspy, and he had lifted himself up off the shower seat with his strong, ropey arms, and was rocking back and forth like a gymnast, sliding his cock in and out of my mouth as my extended tongue caressed the underside of his penis. I took the opportunity to slip a wet finger inside his little asshole. He was tight, but I was persistent. Before too long, I had my middle finger buried up to the knuckle in his butt; his balls were cupped in the palm of my hand, and my other hand was busy jerking him off as hard and fast as I could into my open mouth.
He came with an anguished cry, shooting hot and salty semen all the way to the back of my throat, gob after gob, which I swallowed with great satisfaction. His anus pulsated on my finger as he came, squeezing me hard. I wiggled my finger inside him, making him moan even more. Finally I milked the last of his come out of his cock, licked up the last few milky drops, and gently extracted my finger from his poor over-stimulated butt.
“Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?” he asked; which may sound like a total asshole thing to say, but was actually perfect. Our relationship was intact.
“My mother’s dead.” I retorted, and went upstairs to change my clothes. I was late for class.
I had a date with Cecile that night. By “date” I mean we hung out at her apartment, ordered pizza, and fucked. Cecile made no reference to the fight we’d had the night before. She never did.
I tied her up, facing backwards, to a straight-backed wooden chair, with some clothesline she had laying around for that express purpose. Her big tits were squooshed up against the upright rails of the chair, and I enjoyed torturing them for a while, pinching and twisting and slapping the nipples, while Cecile remained stoically silent. Sometimes we’d play ‘prisoner and the interrogator’, where I would try to get her to tell me where she’d hidden my house keys, but on this night we weren’t feeling that organized.
I really got into it, and she was eating it up, taking everything I was dishing out and asking for more. I yanked her pigtails viciously. I smacked her petite white butt with my hand until my palm stung; then I beat her ass with a wooden spoon until I broke the spoon. Then I got down on my knees and kissed it better for a while, ending up sticking my tongue all the way up inside her anus.
Since I was feeling particularly vindictive, I purposefully avoided touching her clit the whole time. I proceeded to fuck her ass hard, with three lubed-up fingers jammed all the way up her little asshole, and the thumb of my other hand crammed inside her sopping-wet pussy, and when she finally did come, she screamed herself hoarse. It was pretty hot.
I untied her, and we cuddled and kissed for a little while, massaging the blood back into her extremities. Then she went down on me, and to her credit, she got me off several times over, as her talented tongue teased and caressed my pussy, clit, and asshole. But when I came, it wasn’t her I was thinking about.
Dave was still up when I got home, and instead of having a big talk about what the fuck it is we thought we were doing, I jumped his bones. This time we took the time to get naked and climb into bed — his. I leisurely explored his entire body, savoring his excitement, licking and kissing my way from the sawed-off stumps of his legs, through his muscular torso, to the backs of his ears. I studiously avoided his cock the whole time, which seemed to swell longer and longer and harder and harder the more I teased him. I was merciful though; before he could tell me he couldn’t take it any more, I took matters into my own hands. I jerked him off until he squirted pearly-white come all over his flat tummy, and then I lapped it all up like a greedy kitten. He didn’t taste bad, not bad at all.
My bits were all way too sore and tender for any serious action, but after his orgasm, Dave kissed and petted me very nicely for a while. I ended up falling asleep in bed with him. Yes, he was still my brother, and it should have felt weird and wrong, but somehow it just didn’t.
I got up during the night and moved upstairs to my own bed. The next morning at breakfast, Dave referred to me as ‘Turd-face’, and I called him ‘Gimp’. Things were going to be ok.
Cecile was over at our house. It was her idea, I didn’t engineer it. We were supposed to hang out for a while, then go see a movie, but we couldn’t agree what we were going to see or when, so we ended up just hanging out and getting a little drunk and watching really bad TV.
Dave rolled in, beer in hand, while we were watching, and mocking, some Mexican soap-opera. He was totally cool, gave nothing away; called us ‘Mutants’, and asked if we minded if he watched too.
I was feeling devilish. I started to get all cozy and frisky with Cecile. She gave me a “Hello, your brother is right here in the room with us” look, but she didn’t do anything to stop me when I slipped my hand up inside her t-shirt and started playing with her boobs.
Cecile has big, beautiful breasts. They remind me of cantaloupes. They were, in fact, one of the first things that attracted me to her. Much more than me, she really enjoys nipple stimulation. And I really enjoy stimulating them. I pulled her stretchy black t-shirt up over her head and unclasped her bra. She made no move to stop me.
Cecile’s skirt had ridden up, and her legs were splayed wide apart as we kissed. My hand found its way up inside her panties. She was already shockingly wet.
I slid down off the couch and pulled her panties aside. Cecile waxes her pussy bald, and her fat lips were pouting hungrily open. I started licking enthusiastically.
I was down there a while, very much enjoying what I was doing, and enjoying the fact that Dave was watching me do it. When I finally came up for air, I saw that he had gotten out of his chair and joined us on the couch. He was busy sucking on Cecile’s tits.
Between the three of us, we got Dave’s clothes off pretty quickly.
“Your brother has a pretty nice body,” Cecile told me.
“It’s not bad,” I admitted, “For a legless old booger-eater.”
We sucked his dick together, which was just as much fun as it sounds. I liked sucking on his balls and teasing his anus with my tongue while Cecile gobbled his shaft; I liked French kissing Cecile through his crown. Dave had, at some point in the last few days, trimmed his pubic hair close. He looked good that way. Cecile was always trying to get me to shave my own pussy, but I’d never been crazy about that look.
After we had spent some time bringing him close to, but not quite past, the point of no return, we mixed it up again. I flicked my tongue at Cecile’s engorged clit while Dave fingered her pussy. He wanted to fuck her. She was into it.
He rolled a condom on — he had one stashed in the back pocket of his wheelchair — and I helped guide him in. He was on top of her, in the traditional missionary position; all his weight was on his arms, which meant he couldn’t thrust very well. I could help with that. I grabbed a buttock in each hand, my thumbs pressed up against his asshole, and used my brother as a toy to fuck Cecile with. It was hard work, but God, it was hot!
She wasn’t going to be able to come like that, so we switched again. I had Dave lay on his back on the floor, while Cecile sprawled across the couch with her legs splayed wide apart, her pussy wide open and drooling. I straddled Dave and sank down on his delicious, condom-wrapped cock.
“Oh my God,” Cecile said, “You little pervert! You’re fucking your own brother!” She was rubbing her own clit hard and fast, like she was scrubbing with an eraser.
I bounced up and down on Dave for a while, lapping at Cecile’s pussy while she played with herself. Dave told me he was going to come.
“Not yet,” I said, lifting myself up and off. I lifted up, letting his cock slip out of me. I hurriedly peeled off the slippery condom, tossing it aside. Grasping his naked dick in one hand, I spread my cheeks with the other and took careful aim. I took a deep breath, blew it out, and sat straight down on his cock.
I’d had several different girls do similar things to me, but never ever a guy. It felt wild and dangerous; a little scary; and really really good. I forgot all about licking Cecile’s twat, and concentrated on my own needy clit as Dave humped desperately up into my asshole, sending jolts of sensation through my body as his cock struggled for release inside my anus.
Cecile’s hand was a blur on her clit; she was pinching her own nipple hard and her pussy was making sexy squooshing noises as she masturbated. I could feel her eyes on me. I was coming, coming hard. I slipped two fingers up my own wet pussy, and felt Dave’s cock through the thin layer of flesh, sodomizing me with everything he had. I came hard, squirting all over his belly like I was peeing. He went off at the same time, but I didn’t notice until later. My pussy was spasming, gasping, shooting an intense stream of liquid, and my clit felt like it might pop at any second. I belatedly realized that I had been screaming. The orgasm rode over me like an express train, and left me twitching and limp. Between the two of us, we were soaking wet.
Later on that night, we gave Cecile another orgasm, as she rode his (once again condom-wrapped) cock, while I played with her clit and stuck my slippery fingers up her ass. By the time we were through, we were all worn out; exhausted, sore, tender, and satisfied.
I never did officially break it off with Cecile. She still comes over, from time to time, when she feels like getting some action. But only if I feel like it. I do enjoy tying her up and mistreating her from behind while Dave feeds her his cock. That is pretty hot. And sometimes it is nice to just have my pussy licked until I squirt while Dave watches and jerks off. That’s pretty hot too.
I’m not sure what to call whatever Dave and I have going on. We don’t act like lovers, except when we’re actually screwing. I’m still a troglodyte; he’s still a two-wheel fucktard. I’m still as likely as not to steal his breakfast cereal; he still hasn’t shown me the book he’s supposedly writing. Whatever it is though, it feels pretty good, and we’re making a go of it. The sex is amazing, and I went on the pill so we don’t have to fuck around with condoms. It seems like Dave’s doing better. He started taking community college classes online. And he bought a racing wheelchair and signed himself up for a marathon. Me, I’m just trying to finish college. For now we’re both just playing it all by ear.