After that Incident, we didn't see or speak to each other for the rest of the day. I eventually decided to go to bed early, since I had plans to visit one of my Ill friends the next day. After around half an hour of trying and failing to drift off, I heard a faint knock on the door, which I assumed was my brother's way of asking if I wanted him for anything.
Ordinarily, I'd have gladly welcomed the idea, but the sexual tension from earlier in conjunction with the plans I had for the next day persuaded me to keep quiet until he returned to his room, giving an audible sigh in the process. The few minutes I spent awake were filled with inquisitive thoughts, as I began to once again wonder what my brother's true intent could be.
Before long, though, I fell asleep.
The smell of breakfast being made downstairs didn't come as a surprise the following morning. I thought I'd have a shower before doing anything, since I was going to be visiting someone. I stripped down in the bathroom and was greeted by a very faint, but still noticeable, odour, which wasn't exactly unexpected since the only thing washing me the last few days was my brother's tongue.
What did come as a surprise was the fact that the shower wasn't working, presumably due to a mysterious gap in the plumbing system that connected to it. I knew my brother must have done this, but I still wasn't completely sure why. With the shower busted, I had no choice but to find some clothes and skip washing altogether, since I didn't have time for a bath.
Of course, the first thing my brother said to me as I emerged from the staircase was nothing more than a desperate lie.
"Hey sis," he began, "Sorry, but the shower stopped working this morning. I'll call the plumbing service later and try to get it fixed."
"Alright," I said, not wanting him to know I was onto him, "What's for breakfast?"
He stepped to the right and smiled subtly to himself, revealing a full English breakfast. It was immediately clear by this point that he was purposefully trying to make me gassy, so I didn't bother asking him why he'd put in so much effort.
I sat down and began eating quickly, trying not to waste too much time. In the former of my eye, I could clearly see my brother trying feebly to hide the fact that he was salivating, with his eyes fixated intently on me. I said nothing and simply stuck my bare feet out from under the table.
He moved slightly so that he was directly in my field of vision and shot me an inquisitive look, obviously surprised by my sudden movement.
"I'm going out today, remember? Since the shower's not working, you'll have to clean me up a little."
He smiled widely as he dropped to his knees, immediately running his tongue between my toes and along my feet. He stopped once in a while to take a few breaths, but otherwise he had my feet in his mouth for the entire duration of my meal. I pulled my feet away once had finished and lifted an arm into the air, gesturing towards it with my head.
In no time at all, he had his face buried in my armpit, sniffing and licking diligently until every last droplet of sweat was replaced with saliva. Once he had finished, he started working on the other armpit, using both his hands to cover up the obvious bulge that had formed in his pants.
Once he'd finished, I found a fresh pair of socks and slipped them on, along with my shoes and coat.
"Don't catch a cold, Mistress," he shouted as I opened the front door, before running off to his room once again.
I didn't have time to ponder why, however, as I realised I was running a little late.
I reached my friend's house at around one, and stayed until around five, all the while looking after her with the help of my other friends, who had also come to check up on her. We all made a big fuss of her, even though she only had a stomach bug from work.
"Stuff like that spreads like wild fire in winter," said one of my friends, "You're lucky it's just diarrhoea! It could just have easily been the flu!"
We worked together to fix her some dinner before heading back home. I felt perfectly fine when I arrived at my front door, blissfully unaware of both the pain and pleasures I would later be experiencing.
"Welcome," came the greeting, followed by the admittedly considerate question, "How was she?"
"A little better," I began, "Though she still spent half the day in the bathroom."
There was a short period of silence as my brother glanced rapidly around the room, looking as if he was trying to build up the courage to say something. After a while, he returned his gaze to me and cleared his throat.
"Is the illness contagious," he asked shyly.
