Tease Me Please Me

I've been teasing him for so long and enjoying his reactions for so many years that it's hard to tell when I started to enjoy it in a different way. I used to say things just to watch his face flush and his eyes dance with suppressed rage. I don't know why, but something about bringing him so close to the edge made me excited, because I never knew what he would do. I still do it, but it's harder now. Since everything happened.

He'd been avoiding me, keeping his hands to himself, and the laughter came far less frequently. I caught him looking at me, from time to time, eyes fixed on my breasts. His eyes were filled with a strange combination of anger, longing, and revulsion, and I didn't know what to make of it.

So I teased him. "Enjoying the view?" I'd throw out, when I caught him looking. His cheeks would burn with a kind of frustrated rage, and he'd slink away to hide from me. He never argued back, though. He never told me he wasn't looking or that he wasn't attracted to me, and that gave me some strange and terrible hope.

I did it over and over again, seducing him just a little and then catching him at liking it, wanting it, and each time he responded the same way. So when I came into his bathroom as he was running water for a shower, I didn't think he would react any differently.

"Holy shit!" he yelped, his hands flying to cover himself. "What are you doing in here, Ryn?"

I hid my smile. "I was just thinking... Do you remember when we used to take showers together, when we were little?"

He stared at me, and I knew what he was thinking.

"I'm not messing with you," I said, innocently, and pulled my shirt off over my head. "I just thought it might be fun..." I slipped my thumbs under the waist of my skirt and pulled it gently down, "...you know, for old times' sake?"

He swallowed hard as he stared at me.

"What?" I asked, and came a little closer. "Nothing's going to happen. I'm wearing a swimsuit. And I've seen you naked before, and the world didn't end."

The water ran hot and loud behind us as I waited for him to respond.

"I don't trust you," he said finally. "Are you just going to make fun of me again?"

I must have really gotten to him, I thought. "I promise, I won't. Now will you get in?" I stepped into the shower and beckoned him toward me.

He came then, obedient as ever, stepped into the stream of water. I took a double handful of body wash and ran it over his chest, lathering the soap to foam. "You see?" I said reassuringly. "It's okay." I moved my hands over his shoulders, down his back, around to his stomach, and then glanced up at him. "You need to move your hands, Ben."

He wouldn't meet my eyes. He took his hands away, and I saw his penis, hard and wet and much, much bigger than I had thought. I'd felt it before, when I'd tantalized him just a little too much, and I hadn't wanted to think what it meant that I thought about it too. At night, sometimes, I'd touch myself and think of that unyielding place on his body, and how it would feel to run my hands over it...

I didn't realize I was touching him until he groaned, low, deep, and angry. "Ryn... cut it out. You can't mess with me like this; there are consequences..."

My temper flared then, and I moved my hand faster. "What are you going to do about it, Ben? You've never done anything about any of this!"

He grabbed my wrist and twisted it until I let go, and I saw the flat, dark rage in his eyes. For a minute, I thought he was going to hit me, and I knew I deserved it. But then he kissed me, violently, his fingers bruising my wrist as he pulled me closer. His tongue moved in to press against mine, and I gasped and stumbled back, nearly slipping on the wet tile.

"What are you doing?" I snapped, a little afraid. He had never seemed so much bigger than me before, even though I knew that little brothers almost never stayed little.

He didn't answer. He came toward me again, and raised his hand toward me. I flinched, but he touched me so gently I couldn't believe it, running his fingers over my shoulder and down toward my breast, under my bikini top. "My turn," he growled into my ear, and he didn't look away from me as he lifted the curve of my breast up to his mouth. I gasped and moaned, and started to break. I reached out to him, curling my hand around his neck for support as he licked at my nipple.

"Ben," I managed, when he'd finished. "Ben, you should really stop..."

He looked at me, really looked at me, and he took in the blush on my cheeks, the raggedness of my breathing, the fear in my eyes. "Let's find out if I should," he said, and he slid his fingers between my legs and inside me. I closed my eyes as he realized just how wet I was. "Definitely not, then."

He pulled the bikini off and moved to my other breast, and I could no longer pretend it wasn't happening. I wasn't daydreaming, it wasn't a fantasy. It was better. He actually was kissing me, touching me, sucking on me...

"Ryn, your breasts are fantastic," he whispered in my ear as I recovered, clinging onto them. "You don't know how long I've wanted to do that."

I was adjusting to the new dynamic very slowly, but he had never known me to be at a loss for words, and even confused, I could still find something to say. "What else have you wanted me to do?" I asked, and shifted so my breasts pressed into him even more.

He shuddered and looked away. "No..."

I touched his face. "I'm serious, Ben. I'm not making fun of you."

His eyes raked my face, searching for the truth there.

"Ben... you know I like what you're doing to me. Let me do something good to you."

He gave me one last look, then accepted it. "Will you... will you get on your knees, Ryn?"

I had been expecting it, but I was still a little startled. Careful of the wet floor, I knelt in the warm spray of water, and looked up at him for more instruction. He seemed surprised I had obeyed.

"Now what?" I asked, smiling gently.

He looked at me, breathless with anticipation, and he took his penis in one hand and my hair in the other, and guided it into my mouth. "Do it, Ryn," he said, closing his eyes. "Go on. Suck on it, oh..."

I ran my hands along the length, kissing and sucking on him. He kept his hands on the back of my head, rocking me closer and himself deeper into my throat each time. "God, you're even better than I dreamed," he whispered, so softly I barely heard it. "God..."

I could tell he was close, so I started moving faster, but he gently pulled me back. "No, Ryn. I want to... oh, God, I want to... but it's so wrong..."

"What's wrong about it?" I demanded. "Don't you want to?"

His eyes darted away, and I cursed at myself. How many times had I said that to him before mocking him for his answer? I struggled to my feet. "Ben. I want to. I want you inside me. I'm not messing with you. If we do this, I want it to be because we both want to. Sure, it's weird, but as long as no one finds out, it shouldn't be a problem."

He was looking at me again, with tentative consent in his eyes, so I pressed my advantage. I reached around him to turn off the shower and stepped out, snagging two towels from the rack.

"Let's go to my bed," I said firmly, before he could argue.

He stepped out after me and took the towel I offered. Then he kissed me, softly, sweetly, like I wanted, and I clung to him even after he pulled away. "To your bed, then."