The next morning I awoke slowly. I was glad it was Saturday and didn't have to deal with school on top of the stress of last night. I was finishing up my senior year of high school in and the senioritis was becoming overwhelming. Taking advantage of the weekend, I wasn't in a hurry to actually get up. I'd wake for a bit toss and turn in bed then end up drifting back asleep even as the sun pierced through the blinds of my bedroom. It wasn't until the third or fourth time of waking that the urge to relieve myself overtook my urge to sleep in. As I rose I it dawned on me the implication of why I was naked from the waist down, and that realization brought back the rush of memories from last night.
I scurried into the bathroom still bottomless. After relieving myself of a surprising amount of pee I returned to my bedroom to find the pajamas I had worn last night. They were still a heap on the floor of my bedroom near the door where I discarded them. Foregoing panties, I pulled on my pjs and headed downstairs wondering if Bryan was even going to acknowledge what happened yesterday or if it would fade away as a one-time thing. I was too sleepy to do my usual overanalysis of my life and just wanted to get some breakfast.
I didn't have to wait long to figure out which of the two paths I was in store for. It being almost 10:00 in the morning, my whole family was already up. Dad was in the living room watching something on television. Mom fluttered around the house clearly searching for something, but ignored me for the most part. I stood at the counter by the fridge pouring the last of the milk into my cereal as Bryan entered the kitchen. As he passed me his hand swept across my ass somewhere between a caress and a grope. It was too slow and methodical to be an accident but also too quick and smooth to look like anything weird happened. Turning quickly to face him my eyes were alive with panic and fear. Didn't he realize that our parents were not only home but, like right here? Hell, dad was sitting on the couch not 10 feet away since our kitchen actually opened up to the family room. Had he even been glancing in our direction he would have watched his son feel up his daughter's ass in broad daylight. Too risky!
He met my eyes, smiled, and kept walking. My head then turned to the living to see if we had been caught. But, nope, nothing. Dad's attention was glued to the ever so riveting sport of golf. I calmed a bit and brought my cereal and a glass of orange juice to the living room sitting in one of the two chairs that bookend the couch my dad sat on.
After I finished my cereal, I tried watching golf with dad but eventually begged him to watch something else. He turned on some old rerun of a TV show. One of those weekend marathons that tend to dominate cable television lately. Nonetheless it was better. We watched in a mix of silence and the occasional small talk. About halfway through the episode Bryan joined us, sitting in the chair opposite me.
During the next commercial Dad got up and left the living room. He wasn't gone more than 5 seconds before Bryan looked directly at me and silently mouthed something unintelligible. I could guess what it was but didn't actually understand him. My hesitation made him pantomime lifting up his shirt. Fuck.
"Show me your tits," he mouthed more clearly this time.
I shook my head no my eyes wide pleading with him not to make me do that. Dad could be back any second. Plus, who knew where mom was fluttering about. It was one thing fooling around harmlessly in his room when no one was home, but this wasn't worth it. I shook my head no again.
He looked me square in the eye and whispered, "Do it."
My defensiveness waned. Well, we were alone - at least for the moment. I was torn between my terror of getting caught and my desire to give in, give Bryan what he wanted and show him like I did yesterday. Honestly, part of me may even been a little flattered that he wanted to see me more. I know it's not a shocking leap to guess what happened. I peered into the kitchen, peered down the hall, ears straining to hear the sound of footsteps. Coast was clear. Quickly, I lifted my shirt flashing my bare breasts to him for the second time in as many days. My cheeks flushed and heart raced. The wrongness and dirtiness of it disgusting me and turning me on at the same time. He smiled eyes glued to my soft perky breasts. What girl doesn't love that feeling? That feeling of being attractive, turning someone one, pleasing. Incredible.
The rest of that weekend was a blur. We all came and went at different times but it seemed whenever both Bryan and I were home, I was the focus of his attention. He did a surprising job of playing cool. Much cooler than I felt.
If we had a few seconds alone in a room he'd take advantage of it by sometimes making me flash him again. Usually that was just lifting my shirt and showing him my tits but once I surprised him and even myself a little when I turned around, bent over and pulled down my pjs flashing myself lewdly. He liked that with a grin that lasted well after I hid away my modesty.
Other times, when we passed in the hall his hand would play across me. Not for long, but enough to keep me in a constant state of horny arousal. He clearly didn't want to get caught either and he seemed to know when he only had a millisecond to caress my ass or a few seconds to cup my tits in his hands.
Once, we passed each other in the hallway and he confidently pushed me against the wall, my legs spread as he boldly slid his hand down the front of my cotton pajamas and cupped my bald, pantyless mound in his strong hand. I shuddered. It was like he was claiming my pussy as his, holding my most private part. I loved it. His fingertips slid across my folds before he reached my clit turning me on all the more before retreating.
It was a game... a tease... fleeting seconds throughout the course of the entire weekend. I loved his hands on me. Loved that he wanted me. That he touched me. I even loved the risk of him doing it when they were home. It was just to keep us turned on. And I knew it turned him on too. I started paying more attention to his crotch noticing his erection. I started reaching for his cock sometimes too when we had a moment, touching him through his pant. Sometimes it was soft, but most of the time I could feel his thickness even through his pants. Once, I was coming out of the living room and he pressed me against the wall, his pants covered cock pressing against my ass.
"Can you feel how hard you make me Ashley," he whispered in my ear.
It took everything in my power not to pull his cock out right then and there and please him. We had barely done anything, hell I hadn't even seen it, but already I loved his cock. I wanted to see it. To touch it. To taste it. To pleasure it. I pictured it in my mind often that weekend wondering when I'd get my chance. Every once in a while I'd reflect on how surreal the whole thing was. Here I was daydreaming about my brother's cock. Knowing that it was me, his little sister that made him hard and horny.
Unfortunately, Monday came all too soon and it was a pretty uneventful weekend save for a few arousing highlights. With Monday came dread. I didn't want to go back to school and leaving Bryan to go to school made it all the less desirable. Bryan had been way more fun than anything that could possibly happen at school. Nevertheless, part of me at least was still a good girl trying to do the right thing so off to school I went, dressed in a another matching dark polo shirt with my schools insignia on the left breasts along with the ever too trite plaid skirt. The day went by agonizingly slow even though I got on A on my AP Calculus test and totally nailed my government presentation. As the day crept closer to 3:30 I began getting more and more excited. What was going to happen when I got home? I knew the parents were gone at least until around 5 or 5:30. Bryan would be home. Would he be waiting for me? He only had one class on Mondays down at the community college. I hoped he was looking forward to playing and touching as I was. The thoughts alone made my pussy tingle and I had to consciously prevent myself from speeding home at the end of the day. My brother's hands on me? Hot. Speeding ticket on my way to see him? Not hot.
As soon as I pulled into the driveway, my phone vibrated in my hand. I peered at the screen somewhat annoyed that it was interrupting what was waiting for me behind the door, but my heart skipped a beat when I saw those two familiar words stand out on the center of the screen: "Come Here."
