Never Have I Ever Ch. 02

"Sammy is that really what you think happened there?" I asked. He looked over at me. His lips were tight and he shrugged.

"Yes," he said in a terribly soft voice.

"No Sammy, it wasn't like that at all. You never took advantage of me. Hell I practically threw myself at you. You didn't do anything wrong. It was all me. I am the one who messed things up," I said.

"That can't be true," he said, moving his hand out from under mine.

"Why not?"

"Because you are beautiful girl! Guys would take years off of their lives to do with you... what I did. I am a little troll and you only did that with me because I am your little brother and I made you feel guilty about what a loser I am. Now you are going to fall on your sword again to make me feel better. I don't want that," he said. I felt so flattered. I thought some about that night, the way my brother's eyes had moved over me with desire. I knew he thought I was sexy, and it made me feel sexy. But I shook my head. I gathered my thoughts every carefully, I wanted to say this right. I wanted to tell the truth, even if I'd been denying the truth to myself since it happened.

"Sammy," I said, "Listen. I know that I said I regretted what happened, but I want to explain to you why I regret what happened. I am sorry that we... had sex because I am afraid of losing you as my brother and my friend. I regret it because I think we've forced ourselves farther apart by acting the way we did. If I could be 100% sure that nothing between us had changed that night, I wouldn't have a regret in the world. I don't regret showing you how much I love you, I don't regret that you saw my body or that I saw yours, and I don't regret the pleasure that I felt that night. And I did, I loved the way you made me feel. That was the best sex I'd ever had. But mind-blowing sex isn't worth losing my baby brother."

"Mind-blowing?" he said, sounding half like he was impressed with himself and half like I was putting him on. But I wasn't ready to stop talking yet.

"And don't even give me that bullshit about the fact that I am beautiful and you aren't. You are not a big meatheaded jock and you aren't a pretty boy or anything, but you are attractive. You are a handsome kid and the reason you don't get laid isn't because of your looks, it's because of your attitude. Most girls want a guy who knows what he wants and has confidence in himself. I like the nerdy, quiet you. But it wouldn't hurt to be a little assertive," I said and I was sort of amazed by my little speech. I said exactly what I wanted to say. Sammy was looking at me with a sort of confused, half-smile on his face. I was also feeling a bit hot, talking about the sex, thinking about it. It was making me horny! I was a complete basket case. But in my mind's eye I kept playing that night in my mind, over and over again. I felt like I must be sweating. My pussy felt damp in my panties. This was strange.

"What are you afraid of changing?" he asked.

"That things will be like the way they've been for the last few weeks. That we won't talk, that we will always be awkward around one another," I said.

"I don't want that either," he said, "I understand what you are saying Lynn. And I think you are right. It doesn't do us any good to feel guilty about this. Let's just put it behind us and forget it happened. Let's just stop." He said. And I was glad I'd put his mind at ease, but I wasn't so certain anymore.

"I don't know," I said. "I don't know if we can..." I was thinking about how awkward it had been when I'd first walked into my brother's room. I was thinking about how much tension we'd felt, trying not to talk about sex. And then, when we just talked about it, it was better. And my brother thought I was beautiful and that wasn't going to change. And I was going to think about his big, hard cock in my ass and that wasn't going to change. If we just ignored it and pretended like it didn't happen, we'd both know that it did. The memory would be this big thing sitting in the middle of the room. It would drive us farther apart. I knew that maybe there was a way to make us even closer. And I have to admit I was feeling incredibly horny at that point, thinking about sex, so maybe it clouded my judgment.

"What do you mean?" he asked. He looked concerned now.

"I think I have been going about this all the wrong way," I said. I stood up quickly in front of my brother. I was wearing a thick red sweater and a pair of jeans. I quickly reached down and pulled my sweater over my head and threw it on the floor. Then I started to unbutton my jeans. The solution was so obvious, if a little scary; I couldn't believe I had to wait until I was horny to realize it. Something had changed between my brother and me. I couldn't be in the same room with him without wanting to fuck him.

"What are you doing?!" my brother asked, clearly he hadn't come to a realization yet.

"Little brother," I said condescendingly, "If we let this grow into something huge it will tear us apart. But, what if it is just something we do every once in a while? What if sex is just a part of our relationship? Then it wouldn't be weird or anything." While I was saying this, I started to realize why I'd felt guilty before. I mean, I was afraid I'd hurt my brother and afraid I'd screw things up, but most I was guilty because I liked it. But he liked it too. Who were we hurting if it was just the two of us?

"Lynn, I don't know..." he started. He was just nervous; I could see in his eyes (and stiffening between his legs) that he liked the idea.

"Unless you didn't have fun playing with me," I said, pouting, "I liked playing with you." I felt that same heady rush I'd felt that night, back in my room.

"I loved it," he said.

"Then stay sitting and let me take the lead here," I said. He nodded and didn't move. I finished unbuttoning my jeans and slinked them off my body. I walked over to my brother's door and made sure it was locked. Then I walked over to my brother's bed and shoved a bunch of his junk off of it, leaving a nice open area on the bed. I flopped down on it. My brother started to get up, "stay where you are." I said and he followed directions nicely.

I was lying with my head on the pillow and my brother was in his chair, near my feet to my right, looking at me. I smiled at him. It felt good, I felt kind of like we got to get back to that point where my roommate had interrupted us, like we were getting a chance to finish something.

"Tell me little brother," I said, enjoying being lusted after, "how many times have you imagined me in this bed like this?" He squirmed a little. But I just kept looking at him.

"Like every day since I was twelve," he said and blushed. I smiled. Well, I might as well give my fan club here what it wanted. I reached under my back and unhooked my bra. I slid it off myself and threw it on my brother's floor. I saw his eyes glue themselves to my nipples. And I watched as his big cock pushed up the fabric of his boxer shorts. I didn't really have a plan here; I was just sort of doing what my body wanted. I wanted to make him want me as badly as he had that night.

I put my finger to my lips and licked it lightly. Then I moved it down to my nipple, rubbing the tip very gently. My skin was taut from arousal and the cold and my finger felt electric on my tit. I put my finger back in my mouth and rubbed my other nipples. My hips moved slowly and seductively as I did this, rocking and moving but without any input from my brain. It just sort of happened. I watched my brother. He looked crazed, like he couldn't control himself. I saw his hand move, he wanted to touch himself.

"Don't touch yourself until I tell you to," I said and he quickly moved his hand firmly against the arm rest on his chair. I lifted my hips off the bed, putting my feet flat on the mattress, thrusting my pussy up in the air. Then I slid my fingers into my panties and slowly moved them down. I had completely shaved my pubes that morning and I was bare and my skin glistened from my wetness. I could tell from the look on this face that my brother had stopped breathing.

After I kicked the panties off I slowly lowered myself down onto the bed. I ran my hand down over my breasts and against my stomach. My fingers ran across my clit and sent a shiver down my spine. Then they were enmeshed in the soft, hot, wet folds of my pussy lips. I moaned quietly (the parents were just downstairs) and spread my legs wide. I played with my pussy lips, opening them and touching them gently, letting Sammy get a good look. My fingers were dripping wet. When I slide them across my clit again my whole body felt warm. Then I took my wet fingers up to my mouth and plunged them in, tasting the salty sexiness of my cunt.

I opened my eyes and looked at my brother. His mouth was hanging open and his eyes were wide, but he made no sound. I could see a spot on his boxers where his pre-cum was soaking through his boxers. For some reason that turned me on even more, and I knew what I had to do.

I looked around the bed frantically, desperately searching for the right kind of item. Finally, my eyes rested on a tennis racket that my mother must have bought Sammy to try to keep him active. It was old, but it was still covered in cardboard because it had never been used. Most importantly, the handle of the racket was long, about two inches in width, and rounded at the bottom.

I tore off the cardboard and brought the black rubber handle up to my lips. I looked over at Sammy, stuck my tongue out and licked it. Then I popped the end of it into my mouth. It tasted bad (you know, like rubber), but I liked the way it made me feel. Naughty. I opened my mouth wider, letting the handle of the racket slide into my mouth. I used my tongue, swirling around and making sure the thing was wet. Farther and farther the handle pushed into my mouth until it was rubbing the back of my throat, my eyes were watering, and I gagged. When I gagged, my mouth filled with thick, wet spit. I took the racket out of my mouth and used my hand to cover the whole shaft of the racket in my spit.

I moved the racket down between my legs and placed it against my pussy. I moaned a little as I rubbed it around on my pussy lips, letting my juices mix with my spit. The end of the racket touched my clit briefly and I thought I was going to cry it felt so good. Finally, I put the end of the racket against my pussy and pushed. It was cool and hard and it made me breathe in deeply as the very tip of it thrust itself into my pussy. I groaned as I slowly worked the handle of the racket into my pussy. I twisted it, getting it wet, feeling it stretch me out. It wasn't as big as my brother, but it felt good. I looked over at him and saw him, trance-like, staring between my legs.

I pushed the racket farther, feeling my pussy close around it. While I plunged the racket into myself, I spit in my other hand, getting my fingers wet, and then started to gently rub my clitoris. The feeling was incredible. The racket moving in and out of me while the absolute center of my pleasure zone was stimulated. And the whole time, my brother was watching me. That's when I decided I was done torturing him.

"Come over here," I moaned while I played with myself, "I want to see you while I fuck myself." I said. He was off the chair like he was shot out of a cannon. In a micro-second he was standing in front of me, his dick poking through his boxers. I bit my lip while I looked at him, staring into those intelligent, beautiful eyes and just wanting him to want me.

"I love you sis," he said in a husky tone and I almost came, I loved to hear him say that.

"I love you too Sammy," I said, "take out that cock. I want you to jack off onto my face." I said. I don't know where that request came from. It had never been a fetish of mine, but something about fucking your brother makes you want to do kinky stuff I guess. He pulled his dick out of his boxers as fast as he could, wrapping his hand around his meaty member. But he didn't start to stroke.

"Oh fuck yes!" I moaned, moving the racket faster inside of my body, "What's wrong Sammy? Don't you want to cover my face in your cum?" I asked and he looked weak.

"Yeah but..." he started.

"Oh God, fuck me!" I groaned, "honey I don't have the time or inclination to get you to talk tell me what's wrong." I said, I knew I was nearing an orgasm. A very powerful one.

"I have masturbated since we had sex, I was trying to control my urges," he said and that seemed silly to me, "But the problem is now, I am real backed up..."

"What does that mean," I said in a whisper as the five or six wet inches of tennis racket handle plunged into my pussy.

"There is going to be a lot, like a ton of cum. Is that okay?" he asked sheepishly, but his cock was almost quivering. I looked at his balls, they were hanging low, they looked full and hot.

"Oh god, I need all your cum on my face baby brother," I said, rubbing harder on my clit. That seemed to be all the motivation my brother needed. He started to move his hand up and down on his long shaft. I watched him bite his lip and close his eyes as he did. And when he did, oh my God! He sort of changed from my nerdy, but sexy, little brother into an absolute stud. I can't explain, it was just part of that moment. I felt my orgasm building.

But I guess not masturbating for a month and then watching me fuck myself with his tennis racket had just about put my brother over the edge as well. After only about a minute of stroking his cock, I heard a little croaking sound spill out from my brother's lips and then a long sigh. I opened my eyes and turned towards him just as the first big spurt of his hot cum shot out of his dick. I opened my mouth but the first bit came out so hard it landed in my hair. But he wasn't done. The second spurt landed squarely in my mouth and the salty taste was overwhelming. It was so much better than I'd remembered with anyone else. It was enough to push me over the edge.

I thrust my racket deep into my pussy and rubbed hard on my clit. It felt like every single nerve in my body all of the sudden was flooded with pleasure, and it rippled around my body over and over again. I moaned loudly (maybe too loudly). All the while my eyes were open and I kept watching as more and more cum shot out of my little brother's cock and splashed against my forehead, cheeks, teeth, hair, and neck. My orgasm was subsiding as the last little bits of cum pushed out of his cock and landed on my neck.

I reached up and felt my face, the entire thing felt like it was coated in cum. The hollow in my neck was filled like a little cup of cum. I giggled to myself and the cum from my lips slipped into my mouth. I looked at my brother and he smiled at me. Everything felt rights.

"Kids!" I heard a voice call from downstairs, "dinner is ready." And then I remembered where I was. And what I was covered in.

"Shit!" I said and then giggled some more.

"Don't worry," my brother said, "I will go downstairs and stall, you just... get cleaned up," he said and he grinned at me. He quickly threw on some clothes and walked to the door. I was sitting up in his bed when he turned back to me, "hey sis," he said.

"Huh?" I sighed contentedly.

"You look so hot like that," he said and then, blushing, he rushed out the door. I giggled again. My face was still covered in his splooge as I removed the tennis racket from my pussy and collected all my clothes. I opened the door to his room, checked both ways and saw that it was clear and then darted into the bathroom. I felt his cum streaming down my body, onto my tits and even a little onto my belly. When I looked at myself in the mirror I smiled, I looked like glazed donut!

I quickly scooped a little bit of the cum into my mouth, I wanted to wait and get it all. I wanted every little bit of my brothers delicious love inside of me, but I didn't have time. Eventually I just had to clean the rest off with a towel and go downstairs. But even as I walked, and sat down to eat in front of my whole family, I could still smell the scent of his cum on me, he'd made me his.

* * * * *

Dinner that night was pretty typical. My dad was a little bit drunk, but at least he was quiet. My mom talked to me about school and tried desperately to include my brother in conversation. She tried to talk about Christmas but no one was interested. My brother was very quiet and uncomfortable, and for a few minutes I was nervous it was about us again, and then I realized he could sense the tension between my parents and it was causing him some distress. I felt for him and I had a crazy little idea about how to make him feel better after dinner...

But once the dishes were cleared and my dad lumbered back into the living room, my brother went up to his room. I was going to follow him, but my mom grabbed me. It was clear that staying in the house alone with two nearly non-verbal men was driving her nuts. She kept me up until almost 1:00 a.m. gossiping about the neighborhood, talking about some of my old friends from high school, and generally just annoying the hell out of me. But she meant well and she could be pretty good company.

The only down side was that when she finally decided to go to bed, I walked past my brothers bedroom and saw that he was passed out on his bed. I figured, based on his generally nervous disposition, that he hadn't slept a lot the last few weeks. So I let him sleep. I figured I would get him the next day. It was such a strange feeling. Like the way I felt when I just started dating someone, infatuated with them. I wanted to be around Sammy all the time. But it felt deeper than that, because on top of that romantic and sexual infatuation was a deep love for my brother and the knowledge that passion can cool but real love stays.

Unfortunately, Christmas Eve turned out to be a particularly awful day, at least at first. I was planning on sleeping in but my mother woke me up around six and told me that she hadn't bought anything for Christmas, because she wanted to go with me. I don't know what she was thinking. We were at the store when the place opened up, but there were already like ten thousand people there. So for several hours we fought and kicked and punched our way through a sea of consumers, trying to grab the last remaining electronic gizmos and books and other shit we didn't really need. The whole time, my mind was back at the house, thinking about my brother.

Finally, around six in the evening we made it back to the house. My dad was watching television and my brother was not visible. I assumed he was up in his room. I considered going up there, but my mom had stopped on the way home and bought food so I knew we'd be eating in a few minutes. I didn't want to go upstairs and maybe start something I couldn't finish.

Anyway, my mom called us all down to eat whatever it was she'd bought from Boston Market. This passes for traditional Christmas Eve fare at my house. At least it tasted okay. The next day my mom would cook a turkey and it would not be as pleasant.

My father was a little bit drunk at dinner, but he was at least in a good mood. He spent a lot of time talking to me about school and everything. I don't dislike my dad the way my mom does or feel repulsed by him like my brother. I love him a lot and just wish that he could get his act together. He once had a family that loved him, now he was driving them away with his miserly attitude and drinking. But tonight that was forgotten and I sort of basked in the attention he gave me. I noticed my brother and my mom talking a little during dinner, but for the most part they were both quiet. Occasionally, when my dad wasn't monopolizing conversation with me I would see my brother staring at me and I would smile at him. He would blush and look back at my mom. He was so cute! But finally, when he was finished eating, my brother slipped back up to his room and my mom started cleaning up.