2006-05-02 - 4:15 p.m.
I've been quiet a long time, but a story I heard somewhere inspired me to write something new.
In reality, my big brother, though very cute when young, was never protective or sweet toward me. He showed me his dick once, but it was the same sort of act as pulling off moth wings, designed to make me scream. He was a jerk, and it would never have occurred to me to idolize him. So, this here is a complete fantasy. What can I say, incest stories turn me on.
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Of course -- of course it would have to happen just when Mom and Dad are away! Misery -- humiliation -- and nowhere to go for comfort! Jessie has tears in her eyes. It's the end of the world, and she's all alone...
Well. Not all alone, her big brother is here, but he's in his room, reading some big complicated book or else doing complicated things with computers, and he doesn't care about Jessie, nobody cares about Jessie...
She runs into her room, flings herself down on her bed, and sobs her heart out. It was awful. Her life is over. She might as well die!
She hears the knocking, but ignores it, goes on crying. Alan will give up and go away -- back to his books -- He doesn't care -- he's just in charge because he's older --
"What's the matter with you?"
He came in? His words are impatient, but his tone is worried. She can hear that even through her own running-nose sniffs and hiccuppy sobs.
"Jessie? What's the matter?"
He has come closer. He's standing beside her bed. He never comes in here, not since they used to fight all the time and Dad made it an absolute rule that they stay out of each other's rooms. It's weird to have him in here. Weird but -- nice. Does he care, maybe a little?
No, no, he'll say something mean in a minute, any minute now, he'll kick her when she's down, of course he will.
But he puts his hand on her shoulder, and leans down to say "Tell me what's wrong. Come on now. What happened?"
And the gentle tone of his voice, which she has only ever heard him use to the family pets, brings on a fresh wave of tears. Jessie rears up, turns around and throws her arms around Alan's neck.
"Th-that German boy, that exchange student I liked -- " she sobs, admitting everything at once, "I thought he was so nice, but he didn't tell me he had a girlfriend, and I came up to him when she was near and -- I -- went to kiss him and -- he slapped me in the face -- " she shudders, as much with remembered humiliation as with relief of unburdening it. "and everybody laughed -- all my friends -- " and she dissolves past words, shaking against her brother, wetting the neck of his shirt. "saying I deserved it -- but I didn't know!"
His arms are tight around her. He too is shaking -- with anger? His voice is angry when he says "That asshole -- he hit you? Let me see -- "
And he's letting her go so he can look at her face, and suddenly she doesn't want him to let go, it felt so good to be held, just for a minute, a minute longer -- her arms cling around his neck. And she doesn't want her brother to look at her swollen mess of a face -- he'll only make fun of her -- it's only swollen from crying, the slap-mark has already faded from her cheek...
"He -- didn't -- hit hard," she says, "but -- I was so shocked -- I couldn't believe it, I just stood there, and he was smirking..."
"Here?" he says, and his fingertips touch feather-light on her heated face. She draws in a quick breath, a little gasp.
"Y-yes..."
She has gone still, no more sobs, staring up into Alan's face. Has she ever really looked at him before? No -- why would she? He's her brother. She stares at the shape of his eyes, the fringe of his lashes, the fullness -- and nearness -- of his mouth... She has never looked at him the way she has lately come to look at boys, at handsome movie stars... she's never really seen him till today. He's... cute. Kind of. Somehow, he really is.
"Does it hurt?"
His fingers are still on her face. He is trembling -- she can feel it where he touches her. But he does not look angry now.
Her cheek no longer hurts, but the shame of the whole incident continues to sting her, so Jessie is not quite lying when she says, "yes..."
And then he leans in, and brushes her cheek with his lips. She breathes in the warm scent of him -- the smell of his shirt, the smell of his hair, the smell of his skin -- even his breath is nice --
and her whole body, worn out from crying, surges with new warmth at Alan's touch, at his closeness -- yearning forward, yearning toward him, would he really kiss her? Would he really? She hopes, wildly, that he will --
And he does. He does kiss her. After drawing back from kissing her cheek, Alan leans in again, one hand on Jessie's shoulder, and kisses her on the mouth.
It is a sweet, romantic, impossible moment, and so the surge of heat between her legs shocks Jessie, and she moans against Alan's mouth, and then his tongue is slipping into her mouth to touch her tongue, and she clings to him, big brother, holding her and kissing her...
He shifts, and her hand bumps into something in his lap. Something hard -- oh, that's him -- his thing -- and he groans and pulls back. Wait, she wants to say, I'm sorry, I won't touch it if you don't want -- but he is pulling his pants down, and she can see his thing, all swollen. She gasps to see it.
"Can I... touch it...?" she whispers. There's no one else in the house, but suddenly it seems like she should whisper.
He catches his breath. "If you want."
He watches her as she reaches out, as though he is worried she will do something mean at the last moment, the same sort of thing she thought he would do. But she doesn't, either. She reaches out and wraps her fingers around it. It's big. It throbs in her hand, bobbing like a live thing only coincidentally attached to Alan's body.
He groans. She looks up at his face. He looks -- flushed -- fierce -- she loves the way he looks.
"Jessie," he says. She knows just what he means, just that one word. He wants more. She does too. She pulls off her clothes and lets him see her naked. He drops his pants the rest of the way off, sheds the tearstained T-shirt.
She hasn't seen him naked since they were little, in the tub together. He's only 2 years older than she is. He's grown a lot since then. She doesn't think she has. Is he disappointed? She can't be very pretty if the German boy could treat her like he did. But Alan looks at her with warm eyes and says in a soft voice, "You're so pretty, Jessie. You're my pretty little sister..."
"I love you," she says, in a genuine rush of feeling, of gratitude. She might have expected him to snort at such a statement, but he doesn't. He smiles at her. He kisses her again. He lies down beside her on her bed, and she rolls toward him, into his arms, for more brotherly comfort.
He doesn't try to have S-E-X with her right away. He wants to look at Jessie, and touch her, and she moans in delight when his big warm hand slides down her belly to touch her between her legs. "You're so pretty," Alan says again, and she is wriggling with delight when he lowers his head and touches her there with his tongue.
"Alan!" she shrieks, and he freezes, looking up at her as though she were their mother pronouncing judgement. But her round-eyed face shows wonder, not condemnation, and he smiles a little, a hint of brotherly mischief, before resuming his position down between her legs. He coaxes her to spread them wide, wider -- his fingers and his tongue rub against her sensitive button, tease at her hole. She mews, moans, pushes up for more, more -- "oooh! Alan -- yes -- oh -- " till the heat spills over and she writhes, sobbing in a new way, legs trembling under her brother's hands.
He looks up at her, his face flushed, looks at her all hot and wild like men she has seen in the movies and he says, "It's my turn to come." Jessie looks down at Alan's thing, which seems to be suffering now, so purple and swollen, weeping tears... she puts her hand on it, not sure what to do. To pet it, to soothe it -- she strokes it gently. It's so hot in her hand! But this doesn't seem to be right. He is impatient, unsatisfied. She doesn't know what to do. She looks up at him, helplessly.
"Suck it," he says, his voice as hoarse as though he's about to cry himself, and she catches her breath. If it were any other boy -- asking her this -- she would have said Eww! and No! But this is her brother -- who feels good, who smells good -- and his face is still wet from between her legs, and he made her feel so pretty.
So she pushes him back onto her bed, leans down, and learns to suck. It's big, and it chokes her a little, but he is so excited -- he likes it so much, it's as though she can't do it wrong. The way he moves his hips, the rough pleading note in his voice excites Jessie, makes her feel for the first time in her life that her big brother is hers as much as she is his. Instinctively she shields him from her teeth, doing her best to get it deep in her mouth, and to suck, to make him moan and cry, to make him...
"Oh Jessie -- oh baby -- !" and he throbs, pulses, and hot sticky stuff splashes the side of her face, into her mouth -- she licks it up even as it's still coming out of him -- this must be 'come' -- his hands are in her hair, cradling her head, and he loves this, she can tell. She tingles hot again between her legs to think that Mom and Dad are gone for ten more days and they can do this again and again and again. And to hell with that German boy, and all of Jessie's friends.