Siblingly Binding Ch. 01

I kept quiet. I wasn't going to ask for more but was grateful she'd suggested it nonetheless.

She took off her scrunchie and sensually swayed her beautiful hair from side to side. "You do want me to do more, don't you, Josh?"

I didn't comment since I was torn about the whole thing. My mind was screaming a resounding no, yet my dick was pulsing with a determined yes.

She started tugging up her tank top, uncovering her toned tummy inch by inch, flexing her abs and harassing her piercing. "What's that, Josh? I didn't hear you."

She wanted me to say it. She wanted me to admit I wanted more; however, I still kept to myself, hoping she dropped it.

"Say it, Josh." She looked straight at me. "Tell me you want more."

I couldn't bring myself to say it. If I said it, I would be accepting I was hopelessly perverse.

She got irritated and covered her tummy back. "If you're not going to say it, I might as well stop and just sit back and let you try on your own." She shook her head as she softly said, "You don't want that, do you, Josh?"

I mirrored her head shake, hypnotized.

She moistened her lips as she stared into my eyes before she crawled on all fours and hovered over me from the side. "You don't want me to stop, do you?" she whispered in my ear, groping my pecs with her right hand and breathing heavier. "Tell me... tell me you don't want me to stop."

"Don't."

"What was that?" she panted in my ear.

"Don't."

She panted louder, "I can't hear you."

"Don't stop."

She glided her hand down to my chiseled stomach, sliding her fingers to the contour of my abs while panting in my ear. It wasn't casual, short-of-breath panting. It was sex-like, explicit, I'm riding a ten-inch dildo panting.

"Tell me you like this," she panted.

"I like this."

"How bad you like it?"

"So bad," I panted myself.

"So should I stop?" she asked between labored breaths.

"No," I panted.

"I don't think you mean it," she panted as though she was about to climax any second now. "I think you... want me to stop."

"Don't stop!"

"Then why do I feel... you want me to stop?!"

"Brooke, I don't want you to stop!"

"I'm begging, Josh," she maniacally panted, "don't make me stop!"

"Don't you fucking dare to stop!"

She flinched back, startled, and took off her hand. She scooted aside and swept her hair back into a ponytail to my utter surprise.

"What are you doing?" I stared at her, flummoxed. "I told you not to stop!"

She gestured at my crotch with her eyes, still looking quite rattled.

I looked bafflingly at my groin. "Jesus."

She got me so hard that my cock genuinely believed it could take on my jeans' zipper by itself, threatening to rip through it.

"Trust me"—she gaped at my bulge, winded—"Jesus couldn't have gotten you harder."

It took me forty-seven seconds to exit her room, enter mine, and to come like a missile to my sister's groping and panting frenzy that kept playing in my head like a catchy tune. I had never, ever come that hard in my life while masturbating, which was a disturbing realization to say the least. She'd definitely gotten carried away there, and I knew she felt it, too. That look on her face when I exited her room was one of distress and agitation.

Twenty minutes later, while I was sucking on my burning cigarette, still ruminating on that panting festival I had attended earlier, I received an email from her detailing our forthcoming activity. She scheduled it for Friday night—two weeks from now—at the ice skating rink followed by a casual saunter to a specified coffee shop. She was thorough and left no detail out in fear I might have gotten upset if she had surprised me later. Since she gave me way more than a 24hr notice, I had no choice, so I emailed back my acknowledgment.

***

I had been focusing my attention on getting erections all through the following week, yet I'd failed time and again. My problem had exacerbated, and I now ceased getting erect completely, even when I was thinking of Brooke's goddess of a body. I was very solicitous about it and went to see a specialized doctor, who prescribed me Viagra, which did nothing for me. I returned to him for further medical counseling, and he suggested that according to the symptoms I was exhibiting, I might be suffering from psychological impotence.

In effect, it meant that my cock flow had been deteriorated by some sort of a mental blockage, and he advised me to see a therapist on the matter since conventional western medicine couldn't aid further. He reached that conclusion after I assured him I was able to get erections with girls, namely my sister, though I didn't tell him that. I was beginning to fear that even Brooke wouldn't be able to help me now and couldn't wait for Wednesday, so I could hopefully banish this evil concern.

***

Wednesday 8 p.m., and I was banging on Brooke's door as if her room were a church, and I had been desperately seeking shelter from the authorities. By now, I was horrified by the possibly that last week's amazing orgasm might have been also my last.

"Yeah, come in."

I opened her door and brisk-walked to her bed. "Let's start."

I began shuffling the cards with a sense of urgency after draining half of my beer in a second flat.

"Whoa, Josh, how about hitting the brakes a little? An hour of poker is an hour of poker."

"I know. I just need to... let's just start playing! Quit messing around!"

"Easy there, cowboy. You're super stressed, huh?"

"Oh, Brooke, if you only knew."

We started playing, and I was sweating, nervous; holding on to my chips for dear life; praying to god for aces and kings with each card deal; painstakingly dissecting Brooke's poker face, desperate for a telltale; ready to pick up on any minute tick on her pretty face that might have given me an edge. An hour and two beers later -- I lost.

I almost wept. "Oh, god, no..."

"You're a really sad loser, aren't you," she giggled. "As of before, I'll email you our future plans. Those are two times so far for you to enjoy my company, Josh."

"Another one! I lost, so you have to agree; you have to. It's in our agreement; you have to."

"Christ, Josh, relax," she giggled. "No problem. We'll play another one, just... breathe or something before you get a heart attack."

"Don't tell to me to relax, Brooke! I thought you were supposed to suck at this!"

"I guess I'm really good at card games. You know I didn't know how to play it."

"Oh, god..."

"Josh, are you okay? You're sweating, and now you're talking to yourself a little... are you crying?"

"I'm not crying! I'm just... let's just play."

Another beer and half a pack of cigarettes later -- I won.

"Oh my god, yes!" I chirped, thrusting my fists up in the air.

"You're really stressed out, aren't you," she giggled.

"So stressed out," I sighed. "Come on, do your thing."

I shoved her aside, so I could take her place, propping my back against her pillow tower.

"Josh! Don't push me!" She raised herself back to a sitting position. "What's with you, tonight? You look like you're about to die."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to. I really need your A-game now though."

She was noticeably embarrassed. "I think that after last time I should probably take it down a notch."

"Whatever. Just get me fuckin'..."

"Hard?"

"Fuck! Yes! Get me; now; get me."

"Yeah; got it."

She sat on the far end of the bed in her checkered boxer shorts and red crop top. She untied her long golden brown hair from its scrunchie constraint and swayed it from side to side, moistening her lips, abusing her navel piercing, flexing her abs, gyrating her pelvis... she kept at it for minutes.

"Do you like what you see, Josh?" she softly asked.

I looked down at my crotch -- nothing.

"Yes, but I need more."

After a moment of hesitation, and after she visually verified I was still flaccid, she crawled over to me, scattered her hair in my face, and hung high her impeccable ass while placing her mouth in my ear.

"What's wrong?" she achingly whispered. "Don't you like me tonight?"

I didn't answer. I was too nervous thinking about my malfunctioning cock.

"Did you come last week?" she whispered, releasing a few warm breaths down my ear canal.

"Yes," I replied, taking notice of how good she smelled.

"Did you come hard?"

"Yes."

"Were you thinking about me?" she feebly sex-panted.

"Yes."

"Then why don't you like me anymore?" she whispered, genuinely sounding hurt.

"I like you. It's not..."

"I don't feel it, Josh," she whispered, her voice doleful. "What were you doing to me last week?"

"I kissed you all over, and I was um..."

"Did you fuck me?" she barely panted.

"Yes."

She was breathing heavier. "Did I... like it?"

"You were lovin' it."

"You gave it to me good?" she panted.

I started breathing heavier. "Yeah..."

"Then why don't you want to give it to me again? Why, Josh?! Give it to me, please... don't make me beg."

"I'm gonna."

She was breathing harder and louder. "I want you rock-hard, so you can... tear me apart."

"I'm dying to."

"I'm dying for it, too, Josh," she panted. "Come on, fuck the hell out me..."

"Oh god," I gasped.

"What are you waiting for?!!" she panted-screamed in my ear. "I'm gagging for it! Just ease your cock inside me..."

"God, Brooke..."

"Pop my cherry and make me yours!"

"I'm going to!"

She gaped at me, aghast, and instantly retreated to check my package.

"You're all set," she said, winded, looking more rattled and shaken than ever.

I couldn't believe it. I looked down at my groin, and she was right -- I was granite hard.

"Oh my god I love you Brooke..."

I sprinted back to my room to take full advantage of this sadly rare spectacle. I opened my desk drawer to get the lube, and I was so excited, I was so hard, I was so... wait, what? What the fuck?!!!

I was so soft... soft as a cloud.

I sat in my office chair, baffled and dejected. How could I have gone soft in less than thirty seconds? And Brooke really had given it her all. I was as strong as a bull when I'd left her room. I started realizing that I might be impotent after all. I had no way of telling why I couldn't keep an erection, or why I was struggling getting erect in the first place.

I stepped out of my room and knocked on my sister's door.

"Already?!" she asked behind the closed door.

I entered her room and sat next to her on the bed. She was lying against her pillows, browsing through some women's magazine, but once she looked at me, she sat up straight, mirroring my worried face.

"What's wrong, Josh? It didn't..."

I shook my head.

"But you were rock..."

She was as puzzled as I was.

"I think... I have a bigger problem than I initially thought. I... I might be impotent."

I got her up to speed about the doctor and what he had said about my problem.

"You're not impotent, Josh. We both saw it."

"Brooke, I can't get myself excited when I'm by myself, and even with Shannon I wasn't that... you're probably the only one in the world who can get me that excited, and even you..." I got up and sighed. "It's over. I'm not backing down on our time that I owe you, but I think our arrangement can't work anymore."

"Oh, no you don't. We have an agreement for six months. It's siblingly binding."

"But if I can't—"

"Come here; lie against my pillows. I'm gonna prove to you that it's all in your head."

"Brooke, it's ov—"

"It's not over," she said determinedly. "Lie down."

I did as she instructed when she suddenly mounted me with her crotch hovering over my groin in disturbing proximity.

"What are you doing?!" I cried, panicking.

"Relax, I'm not gonna... just relax. I want to try an exercise, and you'll see that you can get plenty hard and come like normal."

My eyes narrowed with suspicion. "Okay, as long as it's not... weird—I mean more than what it already is."

"Look into my eyes, Josh." She was straddling my crotch in the air, so there was no contact between us. "Tell me why I'm getting you excited."

"I don't know," I sighed, shaking my head. "You have an awesome body, you're pretty... I have no fucking clue."

"You like it when I talk dirty to you?"

"Yeah," I admitted, shame surging within me. "Too much, apparently."

"What else? Be specific."

I stared into her big hazel eyes for a moment, trying to get my thoughts in order. "I like your eyes, how they... seem to reflect what you're feeling inside. I like their color and shape, how they twinkle when you... look at me sometimes. Um... I like your nose. It's cute and small. I like it especially when you smile, how it wrinkles so adorably," I sheepishly giggled but stopped quickly when I became self-aware.

"That's uh"—she swallowed—"good work, Josh." She leaned forward, bringing her bust closer to my chest. "Keep it going."

"Well... I like your mouth, everything about it really: how your lips curl when you laugh, your perfect white teeth... and your lips... they are so full and—" I gulped.

"Yes?" she whispered, her breathing growing more conspicuous.

"—succulent, inviting. And your smile, god... you have a really beautiful smile, Sis: so sincere, warm, bright... I've never seen a smile more beautiful come to think of it."

I don't know what was happening to me, but I got completely lost in her and couldn't find my way back. I didn't even think about sex or my soft prick. I didn't think about anything but my sister.

She batted her long eyelashes, her cheeks flushed. "Um, thank you, Josh. That's uh... very kind of you." She brought her face closer to mine—couldn't have been more than five inches away. "Is there anything else you... like about me?"

I nodded. "I love your scent. I don't know if it's just your perfume or whatever, but I... I love smelling you. I really love how you..."

"How I what?" she breathed.

I didn't answer.

"No, don't stop. What else?"

"I love your hair, especially when it's loose, how it streams down your shoulders and back. It's really pretty. I like how you move it about, its color... I..."

"Yeah?" she gasped, her eyes imploring me to continue.

I reached for her hair for some reason, as if I were compelled to reassure myself. I gently brushed it away from her face and tucked it behind her ear. I kept staring into my sister's hazel eyes—which were now just two inches away from mine—for a good amount of time.

"I think you're pretty, too, Josh," she softly whispered.

"Am I?" I whispered back.

She nodded, licking her lips. "Don't you know it?"

We locked eyes for god knows how long.

"Brooke, why are you"—I gulped—"breathing so hard?"

She reached for my cheek and caressed me as she tenderly whispered, "I could ask you the same thing."

I suddenly felt a violent throb in my heart followed by a second one down my pants. I gazed down -- I was locked and loaded. My sister glanced at my crotch and smiled before she stared back into my eyes in stillness. I returned her stare, puzzled. I was so confused about that jolt in my chest, my erection, this moment... about everything really.

"Brooke, I... I have to test this."

She nodded with a frozen face. "You do what you need to do."

For some reason, I took my time when I returned to my room, as if I knew my erection would hold, even though I had no way of telling. I pulled down my shorts and boxer briefs and stared perplexingly at my engorged prick. There it was, harder than ever, not even thinking of going soft. Weird.

I came like a madman to my sister's image that night, and I really wish I hadn't since I wasn't masturbating to me fucking her at all; I was visualizing us making love. I didn't want to, but my mind kept forcing that image on me, and I came so hard I couldn't believe it. It really seemed to be psychological, my problem. But what? And why?

Perhaps Brooke's outrageous dirty talk and ludicrous panting were doing the bulk of the job, but I couldn't help thinking that it might have been more than that. I then pondered the last dirty nothings she'd panted in my ear -- that she wanted me to pop her cherry. I knew she was just trying to get me erect, yet I was constantly contemplating whether she was really a virgin.

Then I began thinking that although she'd gotten me erect, it didn't hold, even with her explicit panting and ridiculous profanity. But that moment we'd shared, when she straddled me in the air, got me harder than ever, even though there was nothing sexual about the nature of it. Why was that? I couldn't answer.

***

The next day, Thursday, I met with some friends at a bar and hit on a girl there. After trading wits and jabs back and forth, she took my number and told me she would call me. Like I never heard that before... still, I had a good time, although my sister had been lodged in my awareness, and I was getting very confused as to why.

Friday noon, and surprisingly, that girl called. She was cute on the phone as she had been at the bar and wanted us to go out that night. I got so excited since I really liked her and called Brooke—who was at the flower shop with my mom—and explained why I couldn't join her tonight. It was my first debt to her, and we were supposed to spend time tonight. She had everything planned two weeks ago: ice skating and sitting for coffee.

Since I knew she was embarrassed about our somewhat intimate and awkward moment from two nights ago—as she had been ignoring me completely since—I was positive she would want to reschedule if not cancel.

I was wrong. Not only she did not want to cancel, she refused to reschedule and shouted at me for minutes, reminding me that our agreement was siblingly binding. Regretfully, I called that girl, explaining her that I had already made plans with my sister and couldn't cancel them now. She wasn't upset, thankfully; she thought I was being a good brother, and we postponed our date for Saturday night.

***

I was waiting downstairs for Brooke after she texted me that she was ready for our night out. A couple of minutes later, she descended the stairs, and she looked... quite spectacular. I couldn't believe that my sister was so attractive.

Her 5' 6" frame was clad in a short skirt that flared at the hem, exposing her long, slim legs all the way down to her high heels, and a sexy blouse that accentuated her bosom to the max. Her sensual makeup stressed her pouty lips and big hazel eyes more than ever. Her golden brown hair flowed down her back like silk, and whatever fragrance she was wearing was driving me wild.

I stared at her, stupefied, as if I had never seen her before in my life. "Brooke, you're... you're so beautiful."

She simpered coyly. "So are you, Josh."

We went out, and at first it was so uncomfortable because of that night and because it felt as though we were out on a date, but after we cleared the air, we swiftly began enjoying ourselves. We talked for hours and laughed when both of our faces met the ice up close while we were skating arm in arm. We then ambled to the coffee shop—still arm in arm—discussing future plans and current desires. We later took a long drive in the car and kept our night out alive there for a few more hours.

A sense of intimacy seemed to be developing between us, intimacy that had been absent for a few years now. We only returned home at dawn after spending seven hours together. I couldn't believe it. If it were a date, it would have been the best I had ever had.

Something had altered inside me since that night. I ceased thinking of Brooke as my irksome baby sister and found myself more times than not wishing to have spent more time with her. I actually started waking up early, so we could share a cup of coffee in the mornings before she was off to work. I didn't tell her that though. I used my trading as a cover story for our morning coffees together. I told her I began trading earlier in the day since the market had shifted and the best trades were now available mainly in the mornings.