We've always wrestled, right? This didn't start out any different.
Did you notice when it changed? When that switch flipped? When it went from just a game to something else?
It's always been futile for you. I've always been bigger and stronger and better at it than you. You know, your big brother. I taught you everything you knew about fighting anyway, so of course I know your tricks. They were my tricks first, dork.
It started because you wanted the remote.
I was watching a movie, when you decided to invite yourself, steal my snacks, and then complain when the main characters started fucking. No, they weren't even fucking yet, they were just making out, but "Ugh, why are you watching this, perv?" and then you were diving for the remote.
And then we were wrestling.
And then you were losing.
And then you were pinned down to the couch, remote well out of your reach, squirming and glaring at me, telling me to let you go.
I'll be honest, I didn't notice when that button on your shorts popped open. Did you notice? Or had it escaped your attention until I had your wrists in one hand and I reached down to your zipper?
"Well, if you're gonna call me a perv, I guess I might as well act like one, huh?"
I think that was when you realized. When you knew it was different. You sure did start kicking up a fuss then, kid, but I'm not gonna lie, I've pinned more fussy beasts than you. Bigger things that kicked more. You're not much of a challenge, no matter how much I pretended you were sometimes.
So you struggled more, trying to kick me away. Shorts are harder to get off, you know, it would have been easier if you'd been in a skirt. But that's okay. Your big brother doesn't mind putting in the work.
Did you know I'd find that little wet spot on your panties when I got the shorts tugged down? Because that's the moment I stopped feeling guilty.
"No, no, no, what are you doing, STOP, you can't-"
"Oh, I pretty fucking clearly can, young lady. Ain't seeing anyone here who's gonna stop me."
Now, that transition is a little tricky. If you were gonna escape, it'd be in that little moment after I gotta let your hands go, and before my mouth gets wrapped around your clit.
So I sink my fingers deep in that perfect little pussy, curling them inside you to stroke your inner walls, a little bit of an overwhelming assault of pleasure to short out your brain for a moment.
And then my head is between your legs, my arm is wrapped tight around your thigh to hold you in place, and I'm moaning at how good you taste. At my little sister's sweet cunt, clenching down on my fingers even as you don't want to, at your hips bucking up against my beard even as you try to say you don't want it- "No, please, you're my brother, I have a boyfriend, don't-"
Yeah. Your boyfriend. I've heard you talk about him to your friends on the phone. You keep leaving your door open, almost like you want your big brother to find out.
And I let you know that. All in between my tongue treating your clit like the best ice cream cone I've ever tasted.
"Your boyfriend? Baby, I know about him. It's okay. I know he doesn't take care of you. Doesn't get you off. Doesn't even kiss you? That boy doesn't deserve you, little sister. He won't take care of you. Not the way I do. I would never let you wonder if I really cared about you like this..."
In the end, did you even remember why you were sobbing? Were you embarrassed that your big brother did this to you? Were you feeling bad that you were technically cheating on that shitbag boyfriend of yours?
Or were you just cumming so much on your big brother's tongue, your fingers digging into my hair, dragging my towards your gorgeous body instead of pulling me away, that you couldn't help but give in and let your body overflow from the pleasure?
I know which one I think it was, sugar.
But we can try again tonight to find out for sure.
