Matt and Michelle Ch. 02

For weeks, I was anguished. Watching my brother suffer from some unidentified ail was so difficult. He would pinch his fingers over the bridge of his nose and squeeze his eyes shut, sucking air in and out of his mouth as though something hurt. He'd stumble out of his room in the morning, and it was apparent that he hadn't slept very well. His healthy, athletic, 19-year old body would slump over at the dinner table, as though he was injured. I wanted so desperately to help, but even the most simple inquiry would make him defensive, and more withdrawn. He never stopped being kind to me. He was helpful and loving. He was as attentive as he ever was. But he was bruised, damaged, harmed. From a cause, and in a way, that I did not understand.

It pained me to witness. Although I never expected he would confide in me, his baby sister, I really wanted to help. I wanted to know. I wanted to feel what he was feeling. I wanted him to dump his hurt on me. Unload the pain, whatever it was. Absorb it into myself.

I loved him. I didn't love him in the way a sister loves her brother. Though, I suppose I did. There was certainly that conventional love between siblings. But I loved him deeply, romantically, erotically, achingly. Not the way a sister loves her brother. The way a woman loves a man. His suffering, even though its cause was a mystery to me, only made me desire him more.

This was not some flighty, adolescent crush. It wasn't lust, either. It didn't happen overnight. It just was. It was always there. It was something I knew, as well as I knew who I was, where I lived, that I was alive. I was in love with Matt. Matt happened to be my brother.

I was resigned to live a life that did not contain any romantic love, because the romantic love I needed would never be available to me. I poured myself into my studies in a way that even I knew was unnatural and all-consuming. I was that kid you would hear about studying for seven or eight hours in a single night. It kept the demons at bay. As far as vices go, I suppose it was better than drugs, or shopping, or eating. I was such an analytical creature. If I had an interest in any subject, I'd learn about every detail, every facet, every fact. I was amassing knowledge as a substitute for the gaping hole in my heart. I was collecting. It filled the holes. It muffled the trembling, throbbing need between my legs.

As for my unfulfilled lust, what could I do? I bought a vibrator, which could bring me to orgasm, but I knew would never substitute for the touch of the man my body craved. I would lay in bed and fantasize about a man on top of me, taking me, plundering his dick into me. He would start as a nameless, faceless figure. Just a blur. But slowly his body would take form, his face would take shape. His face would start to go from a hazy blob to a more focused image. One with wavy brown hair, beautiful hazel eyes shaded by dark lashes, and dark brows. A square jaw. A graceful neck that was just a hair too long. Broad, strong shoulders. A chiseled torso. It was Matt. It was Matt every time.

Matt would come in from a jog and throw his sweat-soaked shirt into the hamper. About once a week I'd retrieve a freshly worn shirt and go into my room. I'd inhale his scent on the soiled clothing. I'd let myself get lost in the smell, the moisture, the very idea that the shirt was just on his body. Eventually, that familiar ache would start between my legs, and I'd lower the shirt, rubbing a bunched-up fistful of fabric against my pussy. I'd massage just over the hood covering my clit, pressing harder and harder, until I came. Unbeknownst to him, for the past couple of years, Matt had been the source of practically every orgasm I had.

******** On the first Thursday of October, I was in my room studying AP Chem. It was just past 11:00 pm, and I knew it was time to give it a rest for the night. After the third or fourth time reading the same line without comprehending a word of it, I knew I was useless. I threw the book closed. I was walking down the hall to go to the bathroom when I realized how still the house was. This happened often. Matt would be sound asleep, and my parents, if they were awake, had a bedroom two stories below ours, so the house would feel so still and empty. I'm not sure what compelled me, but I decided I'd pop my head into Matt's room, just to watch him sleep for a minute. When I was younger, I used to crawl in with him, but stopped doing it when it became socially unacceptable. How long ago was that? Eight years ago? Ten?

I slowly opened the door to his room, and peeked my head in. It was very dark, so it took my eyes a moment to adjust. It wasn't silent. What was that noise I was hearing? A squishing sound. It was my brother, on top of his sheets, hand greased up with lotion from the bottle on his nightstand, and he was jerking off.

"Matt!" I whispered. I don't know why I thought getting his attention would be a good idea, but for whatever reason, it seemed like the right thing to do.

He didn't respond, and he didn't even look my way. His head was tilted back. It took my eyes a few seconds to adjust to the dark, but finally I saw that he had on his big noise-cancelling headphones. He had no idea I was standing there.

I wanted so badly to get closer to him, to see what he was doing, to see his cock. From my angle, his hand was just a blur. How long had he been going? How long would it take for him to cum?

I took one step forward, and then stopped. This wasn't right, and he'd hate me. He'd never talk to me again. This was private. This was not my space, not my world. The world of Matt's sexuality was off limits to me. I had long ago passed the feeling of guilt for my extreme attraction to my brother; if I had been given a green light, I would have acted on it without any hesitation. But I would never allow myself to ruin our relationship. The desire was mine, not his. That road traveled in one direction only.

I took a step backwards, then another. Then a third. I closed the door to his room. I pivoted on the ball of my foot to turn toward my room, took one step, and nearly collapsed. I pressed my thighs together as hard as I could, and I came, right there. The lips of my pussy barely brushed against each other and I unraveled. I hadn't even touched myself, and standing in the hallway outside my brother's room, I had the most intense, amazing orgasm of my life, until that moment. I didn't even know I was turned on until I let my brain process what I had seen. My body was flying forward, and my brain was delayed by several seconds. I slumped against the wall and slid to the floor. I lay there for some time, before picking myself up and going to my room. My panties and yoga pants were soaked with fluid. They made an obscene noise as I peeled them off my body. I took a clean washcloth and wiped myself down. I thought about showering, but felt so completely exhausted, I couldn't even re-dress myself before crawling under the covers and drifting off to sleep. I was still in a partial state of arousal when I drifted off. Every cell in my body felt like it was vibrating.

********

Friday morning I woke up as aroused as I was when I fell asleep. The alarm jarred me out of my dreams, and I dragged myself into the bathroom to shower. The bathroom was still a little steamy, probably from Matt.

"Mathy?" I called to his closed bedroom door, but there was no answer. He was probably already downstairs.

I went back to the bathroom and took my shower, lingering a little too long. Sometimes I'd let my mind wander, and imagine what Matt would do in the shower. How he'd wash his hair, soap his body. I would wonder if he jerked off in the shower, and if so, how he did it. Eventually my hand would find its way between my legs, and I'd rub to ease the ache. That's what happened on Friday morning. With the darkly-lit visions from the previous night still fresh in my mind, I had a fairly good orgasm.

********

I wasted too much time in the shower. I was now in a rush to get myself dressed and hopefully bum a ride from Matt to school. I threw together my bookbag, and grabbed a jacket which never quite made it onto my body.

"Michelle!" Mom called up the stairs. "Michelle! Breakfast!"

My mother's voice caught me off guard. I stumbled, and barely caught myself on the railing. My bookbag wasn't so lucky; it made it to the bottom of the stairs before me. "Shit! Be right th---shit!" I stubbed my toe. Finally I made it into the kitchen and threw my stuff into a corner. I didn't bother with the jacket. I was incredibly clumsy. It's a miracle I hadn't had any serious accidents by this point in my life.

"Sorry! I spent a little too much time in the bathroom this morning." Hey, I was nothing if not truthful. I sat in the empty chair at the table. I was scared to look at Matt, because I couldn't trust my own reactions.

Eventually, I glanced at Matt, and caught him staring. He was starting at my chest, which made me feel a little self conscious, and more than a little flushed. I thought I understood: he was a guy, and that's what they did. My tits were a little bigger than I would have liked - they were more than a handful each. I tried to wear clothes that didn't draw attention to them, but given their size relative to my frame, it was hard to not look busty, no matter what I wore. I wanted to flatter myself and say that Matt found them sexy, or that he found ME sexy, but they're just tits, I reasoned. They could have been on anyone. He quickly averted his eyes, but then reached across the table and handed me the carafe of orange juice. It made me smile, that simple task. He knew me so well.

"Thanks Mathy" I leaned my body toward his and pressed my shoulder against him. He looked at me so lovingly. And something else. It was longing, it must have been longing. I really wanted it to be longing, but couldn't permit myself to get my hopes up, so I chalked it up to simple kindness that I was misinterpreting. I somehow suspected that I wasn't Matt's type. I don't know what his type was, actually. Thinking back at some of the girls he dated, there was nothing they had in common with each other other than the fact that they were female. But me? None of them had anything in common with me. If Matt had a type, I wasn't it. I didn't fit that type at all. Not to mention the fact that I was his sister. While I may have been comfortable with my own unnatural feelings toward him, I couldn't imagine they were reciprocated.

"Any Friday night or weekend plans, kids?" Dad spoke up. I think this was directed more at Matt than me, but I could sense Matt's discomfort, so I decided to offer my answer first in the hope that they'd lay off him and leave him alone.

"Kelsey is coming over after school today and we're going over some AP Chem stuff," I said, while shoveling down an English muffin. I was not a graceful eater, and I was more and more aware of this fact as time went on. I was beginning to be more aware of my actions around Matt. "Nothing planned this weekend," I followed up on my original statement. I glanced over to Matt, and he was staring at me still, more intensely than before. This time, he was staring into my face, and not at my chest. I shifted my body in the chair. I was slightly uncomfortable. Or maybe just unsettled a little. I hated it when anyone watched me eat, and especially when Matt watched me eat, even though we'd shared thousands of meals together throughout our lives.

"I've got an Anthro paper. I'll probably hole myself up in my room this weekend and work on it." He never took his eyes off me. I stared back now, trying to read his expressions.

Mom broke our spell. "Do you want to join me and your dad in Santa Barbara?"

Here we go, I thought. This is the part where Mom, ever the psychologist, even at home, thinks she's going to headshrink everyone. "Yeah Ma, that's exactly what a 19 year old boy wants to do: join his parents on a romantic anniversary weekend." I rolled my eyes. At least Dad got it and laughed at my joke. Matt was uncomfortable, and I could tell he wasn't looking forward to Mom's grilling. On one hand, I was sympathetic to what she was doing; I was concerned about Matt's recent mood also. But this wasn't the way to get through to him.

"It's cool. There are a couple of concerts actually, I might go to one. I'd rather stay in town just in case I score tickets," Matt lied. He would have told me if there was a concert. We usually went together, or at least we used to go, until his mood soured a couple of months prior and he turned into a hermit. I texted under the table, ribbing him for his attempts to lie to Mom.

"There's a bunch of stuff in town that I'd like to do this weekend, Mom." Now he was really laying it on thick. Poor, deluded Mom. I wondered if she was very useful to her patients. She couldn't have been the world's best therapist, given how easy it was for us to pull one over on her. But Matt's second attempt worked. She eased off. Mom and Dad began to discuss their weekend plans.

I looked over and saw his beautiful smile. I winked. I'm not a winker, but it seemed like the right thing to do at the time. We were sharing one of those sibling moments. We had a million of them growing up, but somehow, they felt more important now. More weighty, somehow. In response to my wink, he contorted his face into this weird, huge smile. I chuckled. After a moment, I finally brought my eyes back to my plate.

"Can you drop me off at school Mathy?"

"Only if you're ready to go now. I need to stop at Target before class and I need to get going."

Not wanting to inconvenience him or make him wait, I quickly grabbed my stuff, kissed my parents goodbye for the weekend, and hustled out the door.

"I think I dropped my headphones in your backseat a few days ago." Just as he unlocked the doors, I started fishing through the backseat to find some headphones I dropped there earlier in the week. It only took me a second to lose my balance "Shit!" Before I knew what was happening, my feet slipped, and I plunked belly first into the backseat. Graceful like a swan? No. Absolutely not.

Before I knew what was happening, Matt gripped my hips with his very big, very strong hands, and yanked me backwards.

"Thanks." My entire body was now leaning back against his, and he took one arm and wrapped it around the front of me, clutching my opposite hip. My knees were weak, and my eyes rolled back in my head. I was shaking. The firmness and warmth and softness of his body felt incredible. Without warning, he pressed his face into the back of my head, over my hair, where my neck was. He inhaled, very deeply. At this point, my body took over and my actions were involuntary. I pushed back against him and squeezed the arm he had wrapped around my waist. He let out a little whimpering sigh.

"Shelly..." he was stuttering to say something, but no words came out. I pressed back against him. He pressed forward against me, and suddenly, I felt his erection. Quickly, he eased up and pushed me forward off of him.

"Sorry. Sorry." What was he sorry about? He looked so uncomfortable. I giggled to lighten the mood.

"Getting sentimental in your old age, big brother?" I smiled and tried to put him at ease. I wanted to know what he was uncomfortable about. Was it because he had a hard on?

"I guess so. Maybe a little bit sentimental." He was blushing. Was he embarrassed about being aroused? If only he knew. Standing there, by his car, all I wanted to do was reach into his pants and grab his erection. But that's not what he wants, I told myself. Arousal happens to guys, all the time. It wasn't about me. It wasn't about me. That had become my mantra.

I smiled and got into the car. My thoughts were racing. I sometimes played DJ and shared music on our commute, but today I couldn't think. I wanted so badly to ask him about him. About his feelings, about what was going on. Before I could compose my thoughts, we arrived at my school.

"Need me to pick you up after school?" He was leaning back, staring at me. He was looking me up and down as though I was a puzzle he was trying to solve.

"No. Kelsey and I are going to study, so she'll bring me home."

"OK. Text me if something changes." He didn't look as embarrassed as he had been a few minutes ago, but there was something else going on.

I took a chance, and did something uncharacteristic. I leaned over to kiss him goodbye. It was a chaste, simple kiss on the cheek. Even so, it felt like electricity was going off where my lips made contact with his skin.

"Thanks Mathy. Beats walking." I kept my face close to his, and he lifted his hand, as though he was going to place it on my head. As though he was going to pull me in for another kiss. He paused and made a fist, then grabbed a few strands of my hair, and tugged playfully. Suddenly, he looked wistful.

"You really are sentimental today. You ok?" I wasn't sure if I should push it, but I wanted to know.

"Yeah. Yeah. It's good. I'm good," he lied.

"We'll talk tonight." I grabbed my stuff and got out of the car. I glanced back and smiled.

I hurried off to class, and spent most of the next seven or so hours obsessing over the thirty second embrace we had before getting into the car.

********

Kelsey and I arrived back at our house right after our last class. Matt's car was in the driveway, so he was already home.

"Oh gawwwd is that your brother's car? Is he home? He is so hot. I would so do him."

"Kelsey, yuck. That's my brother you're talking about."

"Sorry, it's the hormones. Teenagers, what can ya do? Anyway, I would let him hit this. I would soooo let him hit this. I would rock his world."

"Shut up. You've never even had sex."

"Yeah, but I gave David Kurtz a handjob backstage during Theater Arts last month."

"Uh, gross. Just gross. Why would you do that?"

"He fingered me. It was only fair."

"You are oversexed."

"Yeah, duh. So? It's not a problem unless it becomes a problem. And it's not a problem."

"Let's just go inside and chill. Hands off my brother."

"Buzz. Kill."

We got inside and grabbed some drinks from the fridge.

"Mathy?" I called out, but no answer. I thought I heard the shower upstairs.

We walked up to my room, and as we passed the bathroom, Matt had left the door open and was showering. He had his back turned to us, and it was pretty steamy, so you couldn't see much of anything.

"Hubba hubba holy shit Michelle. His wet bod is on display!" Luckily he didn't notice us, and I shoved Kelsey down the hall and into my room before she made a scene. I would have loved to have casually caught him coming out of the shower naked, but had no interest in sharing the adventure with Kelsey.

After about five minutes in my room, we heard the shower water turn off. We were at the computer uploading some photos from a girls outing we had taken with a few other friends the past summer. Suddenly, Matt was a blur running through the hallway to his room. He was wearing a towel. He quickly slammed the door to his room.

"I'm going to go flirt." With that, she was off. I didn't even know if it was worth attempting to stop her. I wasn't sure how Matt would react to her. I had to get used to the idea of him fucking someone who wasn't me. He wasn't a virgin, he was going to have girlfriends. If he ever got out of his brooding state, he'd probably even get married some day. I was in no position to start getting possessive.

Kelsey was gone for less than a minute before she came back.

"Struck out."

"What did you expect? That he was going to throw you onto his bed and fuck your brains out?"

"That is so hot. That. Is. So. Hot. I wish he would have."

"You're an idiot."

"Whatever, Ice Queen."

"Just because I don't get atwitter at the thought of you fucking my brother, I'm frigid?"