Hot. Sticky. Sweaty. Samantha awoke to the blankets clinging to her skin as she tried to move. Immediately she became aware of the presence beside her on the bed. Her heart hammered within her chest. Who was this in her bed? What had she done the night before.
She slowly moved her arm up the body beside her, feeling the sharp edges of solid muscle in the abs of her bed time partner. She tried to remember the events of the night but nothing came to her beyond the kiss she gave her brother before going on her date with Mark.
Her eyes should have adjusted to the dark of the room but a pounding ache within her head made focusing difficult. She closed her eyes and used her other senses to paint a picture of her guest. His body was lean but formed of hard, chiseled muscle. His neck was cleanly shaved but his chin was covered with short coarse hair which extended along his jawline in either direction. Mark didn't have facial hair. She began to smile at the picture forming in her mind. The only guy she was close to who had facial hair was her brother. She leaned in close and breathed him in, smelling the familiar scent of Zest body soap, sandalwood shampoo, and his sweat.
She stretched, reveling in the best night's sleep she had experienced in a while. As her back popped and the tension left her body, she realized from the feel of the sheets on her skin, that she was naked. Her heart fluttered within her chest and butterflies filled her stomach. She could not remember what had happened which had lead to this glorious moment, but she thanked God for this gift.
She watched him sleep. The even fall and rise of his chest making her sigh contentedly. She slipped from the bed, not knowing what to think of the situation she had found herself in, but the feel of something cool on her skin caught her attention. She touched the slick pool on her skin and realized with a tingle what she had found. She didn't know if it meant they had done anything but she could not shake the feeling that her brother's cum was on her skin. Shivering with excitement, she massaged the fluid into her skin, wanting, if only for a moment, to keep this gift upon her.
Her head and her body ached, she felt as if someone had poured sand into her joints. Thinking that a shower might help her feel better, and possibly restore some of her memory, she stepped into the hallway and ran naked into the bathroom.
The tile of the bathroom floor was like ice on the soles of her feet. The cold air licked devilishly at her body and goosebumps covered her skin. She shivered lightly as her nipples hardened. She smiled at herself in the mirror, the memory of waking up next to her brother filling her with joy. She still wondered about the details behind the delicious wet spot on her skin but she felt a shower was due before she tried to process that information.
She turned on the water, fighting with the dial until she found a suitable temperature. She often felt that the shower dial should be named "Hoth" for cold and "Mordor" for hot; a joke she had read on Pinterest. She stepped gracefully into the shower, moaning audibly as the hot water cascaded down her body and caressed her soft, freckle dotted flesh.
The water consumed her, flowing over her skin in a crystal clear ripple which danced upon her skin. From her shoulders it flowed down over and between her breasts, dripping from her nipples or shimmering across her flat stomach. The heat of the water tinged her skin a bright pink, and chased the cold from the room.
Her mind began to clear as the water, so much like a baptism, washed away bits of the lingering miasma she had felt upon waking. She stretched again, extending her body beneath the water, not caring as the spray fell upon her face. Flashes of the previous night were coming back to her; drinking with Mark, kissing her brother on the cheek, climbing out a window. She couldn't quite make sense of them but felt certain the alcohol was to blame.
Tilting her head back into the water she worked her fingers through her hair, combing through the thick mess of bed head as the water worked its magic herein. She liberally applied shampoo to the red stack upon her head and this act brought up a memory of her as a girl. A time when she and Jericho were still young enough to bathe together. He was 5 and she was 4. An innocent time, Jericho had scooped up some of the bubbles from the shared bath and placed them on top of her hair. "Now you have cool whip on top of you, Strawberry!" they both giggled at the joke and that was that.
The memory enhanced the smile on her face. She had so many good memories with her brother, sure they fought like any siblings, but he was fiercely loyal to her and at her saddest moments he would do some of the most romantic things to make her smile.
Too soon the shower had ended. She felt fresh and clean but still could not fathom how she had ended up in her brother's bed. She didn't know for certain if anything had happened. She hoped something had but the only way to know was to ask him. She bit her lip nervously and that was when she felt his arms slide around her waist.
Jericho had meant to rise from bed, carry his sister to her room, tuck her in, and return to his own room. Really, he had, but..... But the smell of her body, the natural scent of her skin, her sweat, her glorious arousal filled his nostrils with every breath and this sweet perfume soothed his spirit. The feeling of his sister's body next to his own assured him that, at least for this one night, all was right with the world. He lay there, listening to her deep, even breathing, feeling her chest rise and fall against his own. It was humid, sweaty, and her hair kept getting all over his face; he wouldn't have traded a second for anything.
He tightened his arm around her, silently vowing to her, to the universe, to anyone who could hear, that he would protect her, treasure her, and love her to the sacrifice of all else. He expected nothing in return for his vow, she would always be the center of his world. Despite the heat and discomfort (his arm had fallen asleep long ago) he felt himself drifting to sleep.
When he awoke he was slightly cooler, well-rested, and alone. This last element caused his anxiety to sky-rocket. What had she thought when she had awakened, naked, in his arms, with his cum on her side? Sure it had been her who had climbed into his bed, but he should have woken her, should have taken her to her room, something, anything. Instead he had been selfish, had spent the night enjoying what he had long dreamed of having and now he would have to pay. His mind spiraled into a panic, fear filled him.
He rose from the bed, put on his boxers and some light running gear. Opening his door he heard the shower begin to run, Samantha must just have woken up. He thought about going to her, thought about apologizing and begging for her forgiveness. He also thought that throwing the door open to apologize for letting her sleep naked by him, and catching her naked in the process might undermine the apology. The rhythmic landing of his feet on the dirt path focused his thoughts in the moment. Breathe in, breathe out, jump over the log, watch out for stones.
Sweat covered his body and his muscles were beginning to scream from the abuse. He had set out with the intention of clearing his head and what had ensued could be classified as nothing other than punishment. He had been running for 20 minutes, pushing himself harder every time his muscles begged to stop. His breath rushed in and out of his lungs as quickly as he could breathe and his hair lay heavy on his brow.
