Negotiating With Your Sister

"Hiiii," I chirped sweetly. It was a flawlessly executed sibling ambush, and - as my big brother - you were the sitting duck. I had you pinned down in the kitchen by the counter. Even after nineteen years, I knew how to sneak up on you!

You sighed, turning around from your disaster in progress: a frozen pizza. "What do you want, Megan?"

"Who said I want anything?" I asked, putting on my best expression of wounded contrition.

"It's cash again, isn't it?" You arched a brow. "You need cash for something."

I pouted and stuck out my bottom lip. Was I really so transparent? "Maybe I just wanted to talk with my big brother--tell him how much I love him..."

You snorted. "Yeah, right! How much do you need this time?"

"Hey!" I snapped hotly. "That's the truth! But since the topic of money has come up naturally..."

You let your stony silence speak volumes for you.

I squirmed. "Okay! I--I need fifty bucks," I finally muttered. "You happy?"

"Ha! I knew it," you smirked down at me. Seeing as I was 4'11 with my shoes on, you did everything down at me.

"Yeah, yeah," I sighed, glaring up at you red-faced. "Will you loan fifty bucks to my cause or not?" My cause being some cute lingerie I found online, of course--I successfully cajoled Dad for a contribution before he went to work, but I was still short of the total.

"Loan?" You snorted. "You still owe me forty bucks from last month, remember? Racking up quite the little debt there!"

Fuck. I was really hoping you might have forgotten about that. "The Bank of Big Brother is good for it," I whined, stomping a bare foot. "C'mon, don't be a fuckin' Scrooge McDuck about this!"

"Quack," you said stubbornly, crossing your arms over your chest.

"Bastard," I snapped, my sweet little sister mask slipping.

"Scrounge," you retorted with a peevish smirk, obviously savouring the moment. "Maybe you'll finally have to get a job?"

I smirked. You thought I came to these negotiations unarmed and empty-handed. You were wrong. It was impossible to misinterpret how you looked at me sometimes--with helpless longing in your eyes when you thought I wasn't looking. You probably thought you were being subtle about it--how cute. It was no accident that I dressed for your eyes today--wearing nothing besides my tiniest, skimpiest denim shorts and a curve-hugging tank top.

I wasn't the only one who could be painfully transparent. After all, I knew your secret: you wanted a hefty slice of little sister's pie! And I couldn't blame you, to be honest. I grew up hearing it from practically everyone I met; they all told me I was stunning, gorgeous, beautiful. After nineteen years of that kind of reception, I tended to believe the hype. I must really have been all of those things.

I might have been a super-model--if only I weren't so vertically challenged. I had long, blonde hair like golden silk. Crystal-blue eyes alive with mischief and self-assured confidence. Naturally long lashes. Dimpled, round cheeks. A cute button nose. Strong jaw. Wicked smile. Full lips. And when it came to my body type--I was the quintessential short-stack; back-breaking tits, tiny waist, dump truck ass.

"Maybe..." I purred, looking up at you and batting my lashes. "I should just suck your cock?" Fuck it! I was going for it. If you took it badly, I could always claim I was joking.

That seized your undivided attention. "Huh?" You choked, eyes bulging out of your head.

"Uh-huh, you heard me," I said, retrieving a scrunchie from my wrist and tussling blonde silk into an unruly ponytail. "You gimme fifty bucks--oh, and also cancel my outstanding debt. In return, I'll suck your cock."

"W--w-wait, back the fuck up, you're offering to virtually whore yourself out?" You blabbered. "This can't be--y-you're joking?"

I shook my head, grinning devilishly. I knew I had you already. "Nope. No joke. I wouldn't put it like that, though."

"Then--" your head swivelled around the room, "there's a camera? You--you'll extort me afterwards or something?"

I scoffed. "I'm sorry you think so low of me!"

"Sorry," you groaned. "It's--uh, just..."

"C'mon," I wailed impatiently, placing a hand on a broad hip. "I know you want to say yes!" Apparently, nobody ever told you not to look a gift whore in the mouth.

It wasn't like blowjobs were such a big deal, right? Sure, I was your little sister--but not only did I know you wanted it, I was a little curious about this potential arrangement myself. "I won't rip you off," I purred. "I'll suck it good..."

You stared at me, silently deliberating.

In an effort to coax your glacial thoughts along, I leaned forwards, affording you a view of my necklace-swallowing cleavage as I mimed jerking a cock into my open mouth--tongue rhythmically bulging one cheek in time with the lewd motion.

You watched me for a moment, jaw agape; I pinpointed the precise moment your thinking gears stopped turning. You licked your lips and stammered, "Alright... Deal." You looked me in the eyes, wincing and reeling as if expecting imminent reproach to meet you in response.

None came. Instead, I beamed brightly. "Great!" I offered out the same dainty hand I had used to tempt you.

You reached out and grasped it, shaking firmly. "Sooo," you said awkwardly. "How--uhm, how do we go about this?"

Suddenly, I felt strangely shy about the whole affair despite it being my idea in the first place. "Uhm, well..." I looked around, pulling my hand away.

"Maybe tonight?" You floated. "When Mom and Dad have gone to bed?"

"No," I snapped. "Mom's at the gym, and Dad's at work..." I affixed you with a steely gaze. "We should do it right now."

"Now?" You choked.

"Right now," I repeated, finding my resolve and grabbing you by the shirt.

"Now works. But what about my pizza?" You mumbled dumbly.

"Forget about it," I shrugged, dragging you towards the living room.

You staggered after me--even though - if you wanted to - you could stonewall, and I wouldn't stand a chance of shifting you.

"On the couch," I said, gesturing with an outstretched arm. You were too damn tall--if I got on my knees for you standing up, my mouth wouldn't be level with your cock. That would complicate something that should be very simple.

I shoved you towards the target. You flopped willingly down on the couch, sinking back into old leather.

"Take your shorts off," I instructed tacitly, tapping a bare foot. When you did, I noticed you were already hard--your rather impressive-looking cock tented your boxer shorts.

Your eyes followed me as I gingerly sunk down before you, feeling the carpet scrape my bare knees. I touched your ankles first, delicately skirting my soft palms up your legs and hooking my fingers into the waistband of your boxers. You awkwardly shuffled as I yanked them down your thighs--your cock springing

free, urgent and already hard.

My eyes flickered up to meet yours. "Excited?" I giggled.

You nodded your head feverishly up and down.

I eyed your cock again and reached out a cautious hand. You pulled a deep breath through clenched teeth when I took you in my squeezing grasp. I started slow--pumping on your shaft gently up and down.

Why the fuck was I so nervous? It wouldn't be my first time sucking on a cock--or even my second time. But it was different; somehow, it almost felt like the first time again. I was nervous. You were my big brother. I wanted to do a good job, I realized. What if I didn't, or couldn't make you cum, or--

"You know how long I've wanted something like this to happen?" You asked rhetorically, breaking my cascading thought spiral.

I rolled my eyes. "A really, really, really long time?" I commented dryly, switching hands as my wrist began to tire. There you went again, complicating something that should be transactional and simple! Because a small part of me did wonder how long you had harboured this fantasy, to be honest. And why was I so willing--not just to entertain it--but outright encourage and profit from it?

I began to jerk you off more insistently, my brow furrowing at the effort. "Is this... good?" I asked, sounding more vulnerable than I perhaps intended to.

"Yeah--" you groaned, writhing a little as I twisted my wrist and flexed my palm--soft grasp squeezing tighter with every upstroke.

"Alright," I chirped, reaching out with a second hand to cup your hefty ball sack.

"Can--" Whatever you were going to say, you apparently thought better of it. "Never mind." You shook your head.

Curiosity got the better of me. "What is it?" I asked, gazing sweetly up at you, feeling your hairy sack spilling between my fingers as I gently caressed your balls.

"Can I... see your tits... maybe?"

"Oh," I giggled. Then, I regarded you with a shrewd squint. "Call it... Twenty bucks extra."

"Oh c'mon," you whined.

"Should have negotiated more precisely," I shrugged.

"Ten?" you proposed, looking hopeful.

"Hmmm," I sighed, eyeing you thoughtfully as I used my thumb to massage little circles into your sensitive frenulum. Then, I made an ostentatious display of caving with a roll of my pretty eyes. "You're lucky I actually do love you, poohead."

With that, I stripped myself of my too-tight tank top. "Bet you've thought about these a lot--" I smirked, my hands each clasped over a milky-pale breast as I pressed them together "--right?"

You nodded--apparently too titnotized to speak.

My smirk broke into a wicked grin. "Yeah. I've caught you gawping a few times," I purred, sitting up on my knees and leaning down between your splayed legs. "Bet you've thought about this, as well, right?" Suddenly, I wrapped my big, milky, soft tits around your cock--engulfing your shaft with my cleavage while stroking slowly up and down.

"Yeah," you grunted, your voice small.

"And I'll bet you've thought about this even more," I purred before abruptly parting my dick-sucking lips and slinking down to take you in my mouth.

"Fu--ooh, fuck..." You tensed and writhed before relaxing back into the sofa's leather embrace.

I hummed affectionately at the taste of you--my tongue curling unhurriedly around your salty tip as my lips sealed around it. My mouth working on your tip, I went to work with my hands, taking your shaft in a dual grip and wringing it in time with my sloppy suckling.

"Argh, f-fuck," you muttered. I felt a measure of pride creeping through me at your reactions.

"You're harder to make cum than I thought," I gasped a few moments later, pulling away but still jerking you off with both hands as I caught my racing breath.

"I'll--hnnng--take that... as a compliment," you groaned.

"I intended it as one," I beamed. "And I'll take it as a challenge." With that, I went right back to work. This time, I went hands-free, clasping them pointedly behind my back.

You took the signal for what it was. Your hands came to clutch my silky blowjob handle (AKA: my ponytail), and I moaned my approval around your shaft. You began to guide me up and down, gently at first--though you quickly set a more fierce pace. Not that I couldn't handle a little facefucking.

My mouth emitted gagging, suckling noises as you sloppily helmed it at your desired pace--your tip continuously flirting with the convulsing ridge of my throat. A moment later, I pulled away with a breathy gasp. A web of phlegm and spit adjoined us for a moment before snapping and slopping down from my slack mouth to my tits. My pretty eyes were bloodshot, tear-brimmed and wild; I affixed you with an enigmatic expression. "F-fuck my throat," I gargled. With that, I cast myself back down.

You obliged. I gazed up at you, somewhat absently, as you began to boost your hips up, thrusting yourself into my mouth. You ruptured my gag reflex over and over again as you lodged yourself urgently down my throat. You pressed further and further until I was retching and squirming at your feet.

I moaned, grasped my wrists firmly behind my back and stifled my subconscious effort to pull away--intent on you having gotten your money's worth by the time you finished with me. I took it like a good little whore. I don't know for how long we went on like that--an eternity and two minutes, probably. But I knew we were about done when I felt your hairy sack press up against my chin--churning and tightening.

"I'm gonna--" you howled, twisting forwards on the couch to hold me down. "I'm cumming!"

I pulled away somewhat--heaving as I took one thick, briny web of your cum directly down my throat. I caught the rest in my mouth. My cheeks hollowed as I sucked hard on your cock and flicked it with my soft tongue. It lurched between my lips--depositing rope after thick rope of pent-up, salty cum. You held me in place by my ponytail as you bellowed and spent every last drop inside your little sister's mouth.

When I was sure you were 100% done, I retreated from your cock--it popped out of my mouth audibly. I cupped my hands under my chin, ensuring I didn't spill a single drop; then, I opened wide, tilting my head up so you could see the final result of our bargain: your sweet little sister, her face caked in throat slime and tears, her mouth filled with cum.

"I'll give you another five bucks if you swallow it," you smirked.

I shrugged my slight shoulders and - wincing at the bitter saltiness - did exactly that with one loud swallow.

"I would have given you ten for that," you snickered, looking - and sounding - a little sleepy.

"I would have swallowed it for free," I grinned, licking my lips before showing you my wide-open mouth--empty, not a drop of your cum left.

I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, ridding it of phlegm and throat slime. "Now, go get your wallet."