My brother's name is Erik. At the age of 19, he stood a good foot taller than me at 6'3", and had thick, soft and completely untamable golden-brown hair. Naturally, because he was human, he wasn't perfect in a lot of ways, but in my eyes he was a god. Maybe because at times, he was all I ever had to keep me safe.
Our family life came somewhere in between an episode of Law and Order, and the Discovery Channel. My parents had always loved me. They always will. They doted on me as much as possible, particularly my dad. Denver Broncos games, a trip to go whale watching in Washington. . . I can't really remember if my brother was there or not. I guess it doesn't matter.
My father. . .
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had Problems. Which caused problems for all of us. There would be times when at the drop of a dime, there would be a loud crash from somewhere in the house, a raised voice, or when my brother got older- two raised voices and the possibility of a fist-fight. Dad never hit me, only Erik. Once, when I was young, I remember my dad was angry at me for some reason. He'd gone and gotten the Belt. When I screamed and cried as a result from the initial whipping, he'd come right back and started again. Erik was 10, but he was strong. Dad had never hurt me again.
When we moved to New Mexico (ugliest place on earth), things really started to come apart. Erik had designated himself as my Gaurdian Angel. For some reason, I seem to be the sort of girl that is very adorable, loving, and has a huge sign on her forehead that says "Surrogate brother wanted- must be overprotective and a bad example". Any guy I've ever really taken a serious liking to that was actually older than me automatically wanted to be a surrogate brother, and try to sheild me from the world. It's annoying as hell, particularly when you're 17, on the cusp of being legal, but everyone still wants to carry you in their arms when you can damn well walk, even run.
When my brother moved out of the house and into a not-so-shabby apartment of his own, it seemed to work out like a divorce from the family- he got an unspoken joint-custody of his little sister.
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He'd gone to lengths to set up a room for me, as close as possible to his own. It soon had a stereo, posters on the walls, anything I wanted, my Angel would get for me. I was what I called a "part-time Goth". When I wasn't dressed rather flamboyantly, layering tank tops over drapey-sleeved tops, skirts with shorts under them, I wore dark "Vampiress" clothing. Black and red in unhealthy doses, plenty of fishnet, buckles, and shirts that looked like someone had been shortchanged in the material department. Sexy, high-heeled boots could make me a good 5'6" if I really tried, but my attitude when wearing these clothes made me seem taller in a way. Really the goth clothing was a sort of flag to those around me. It said "Yes, I switch houses every other damn month, my father is a lunatic, my mother tries to be there but can't always be, but it just happens that *today* I can't handle it, so fuck off. "
There's something almost mask-like about the goth clothing. As soon as the clothes are on, my face is paled and my eyes and lips darkened, I'm not the little doll that I usually am. I hide inside myself when I'm like that, avoiding all eye contact, just wanting to look tough so people don't mess with me. In my mind, sometimes I can even be a real vampire, immortal and eternally perfect, just as juicy and curvy on the inside as I appear on the outside. I guess the addition of gothic lingerie felt like having a concealed weapon of sorts.
Now my brother. .
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. and I really mull this over as I carry my bag of supplies up the stairs, heading for the 3rd floor of the appartment complex and cursing my boots, is a bit of a goth himself. But then, with a special history like his, you could be wearing bright pink and still look dangerous at close range. There is a sort of dark rings around his eyes and paleness to his complexion that comes from within him, so that when you see his well-tanned face, you instantly think he never gets out enough. He's very quiet, and keeps to himself. But when he's with me. . . it's like his whole life lights up. I'm utterly amazed he tries to keep it hidden under his great love for anything that's blonde and has hips. Oh sure, so he might turn his head to watch a girl walk by, but he does it like he's reminding himself to.
Finally, bloody 304. Damn stairs will kill me someday. I smooth my long, silky red hair out of my face and use my foot to kick the door, too aggrivated to knock. I hear Erik yell with suppressed excitement for me to come in, and I do so without any sort of ceremony.
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"Hey Erik, how's it going?" I ask as I enter the living room, once again noticing how the place always feels stretched.
He sits up on the couch, practically on the edge of the seat, his brown eyes glittering, almost as if he'd been on the brink of tears. Oh yes, Baseball game on TV. He lives for baseball, especially playing it. "Hey sis, I got you an awesome CD, you're going to love it. "
My heart beats itself with a bat. Where on earth is my brother getting the money to do any of this? He's got a job somewhere at some place he never mentions, but most of the money is going into keeping him in college, gas in the car, food in the fridge. . . and things for me. "Oh Erik, you don't have to spoil me, you know. "
He gets up and tightly hugs me. He always does when I show up to start my month at his house. And when I'm with my parents, there's no end to the phone calls. But he's my Angel.
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"Yeah, but I love spoiling you. " He fishes around between the cushions of the couch, and pulls out a CD case.
"Man, maybe you need a girlfriend, Erik. I worry about you. " I try to pass it off as a joke.
"Pssh, girlfriends are expensive. ""And I'm not?""Shut up and take it. "
I laugh and roll my heavily eyeshadowed eyes. It'd been a tough week at home, with dad constantly swaying between Doting Father and Charles Manson. "I'll listen to it in a moment, I want to change clothes. "
I head into the bathroom, and my eyes are automatically drawn to the shower.
My hands shake as I think about the silver razor that's just out of sight behind the glass door, sitting on the ledge. I'd seen Erik naked in there once, his beautiful, muscular yet slender body slumped against the tiled wall as blood spilled down his arms. When I saw the razor in his hand, I'd freaked. I thought he was trying to kill himself.
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He'd kept trying to tell me that he was fine, even as I took a towel and wrapped it tightly around his arms. But there was something in his eyes, shame most likely. I'd forced him to promise me he'd never hurt himself again, and in turn I never told anyone.
I strip off my clothes until I'm down to my bikini bottom and lacy black bra. Where as Erik was long and slender, I was curvaceous and hopelessly short. People treated me like a teddy bear at times, and couldn't help but tease me when I couldn't reach things in a cabinet. That's where boots with killer heels or pumps tended to help. Erik always pointed it out in a way, loving to wrap his strong arms tight around me and lift me up off of the floor until I screamed at him.
On goes my outfit. A soft black feltish material hemmed with little baby spikes made up a very raunchy halter top, with a black, long-sleeved fishnet shirt to go underneath. And it isn't the stringy type of fishnet, it's the veil-like see-through kind that male rock stars seemed so inclined to wear. These are followed by a most interesting black lacy skirt that has fishnet leggings to match the top. Finish it off with my knee-high boots of destruction. I love being at Erik's place; he lets me dress any way I want. When I open the door, he's leaning against the opposite wall, arms folded across his chest.
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"Finally. Like your outfit, it's very. . . sexy. " He tries to compliment me.
"Oh, you think so?" I teasingly flirt, walking over and putting my arms around his narrow waist.
"Mmm, definately. " He lets his arms fold around me, and we just stand there, enjoying the company.
I put my head on his muscular chest, and listen to the beating of his heart, and his chest raises as he takes in a deep breath, making the beat speed up. I could fall asleep just like this, letting my Angel hold me. Maybe I ought to ask if I could. After all, Erik's never turned down a chance to snuggle close to me. He seriously needs a girlfriend. "Tired?" I hear his wonderfully deepish, mature voice ask.
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"I'm getting there. "
"Go ahead and lay down, then. "
I pout and shake my head, nuzzling his chest while doing so. "I'm too comfy. "
He gives a soft, brotherly chuckle and pats my back. "Then you can nap with me in my room. "
Nothing bothers me at all about sharing a bed with my brother. I used to sleep with him all the time when I was younger. Although the way I'm dressed raises a question about that. I chew on my lip as he opens the door to his room and walks over to his old beat-up dresser to take off his necklace. I can only hope against all odds that my skirt doesn't hike up too bad. I pull off my boots and sit on the edge of his bed, taking so much comfort in the familiar whir of the air conditioning, and his scent, which has permeated everything. I feel the bed shift as he sits down, then lays down on his side. I smile and don't look back towards him as I lay down as well, and in accordance with his need to cuddle something, he reaches out and pulls me up against his warm body. I close my eyes and try to relax, but the coldness of the air starts to bite at my toes.
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The way Erik's breathing has slowed down, he's probably asleep, and I don't want to wake him up. My nerves bundle up, causing me to tremble every time I attempt to make my muscles relax. Something's changed, and I dread to think of what it is. In a lazy motion, my brother's hand shifts in its place, loosely hanging over my waist, to rest flush against my stomach. It pauses there for a moment, then begins to slide upward at a snail's pace, almost testingly. I bite down harder on my lip, trying to convice myself that he's asleep. But he very gently shifts in his place, and I quickly close my eyes when I feel that he's watching my face. I should have known, it was so obvious. . . has he done this to me before? How far is he going to go? Is he going to hurt me?
Harmlessly, he strokes my skin through the mesh of my top, and my mind begins to drift into sleep. I know I ought to stay alert, just to make sure, but it's getting hard. I start falling in and out of consciousness, aware that he's still touching me, but not too much. A breeze blows over my skin, and I shiver and let my stomach press into the warm of his palm as it courses up under my top. As soon as his fingertips come in contact with my right breast, my eyes fly open, and I look down to see his hand frozen in place.
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I can't say anything, let alone try to look at him. Instead I shut my eyes, and try to remain as still as I can. He must think I'm still asleep, because his fingers begin to tickle the underside of my breast again. I can't handle this, it's scaring me too much. My voice comes out strangled and trembling, but soft. "If you're going to touch me, please just do it. "
He seems to be fighting with his conscience, because he's paused again. Apparently his darker side wins, because he only pulls his hand away to make me roll onto my back. "I promise I won't hurt you, sister. " He whispers to me as he pushes my top up until I finally sit up and pull it over my head and toss it to the floor. "I want you to enjoy this. "
My stomach twists and writhes, but my heart burns. "Just do it, please. " I'd rather he outrightly savage me than try to make it seem conscented.
He moves around, and soon I'm pressed into mattress as he puts his weight on me.
His warm, sweet breath washes over my skin, and his lips press against my skin while the stray whiskers on his chin and upper lip poke me. He makes a warm, wet trail as he takes his time, traveling down the valley between my perky, C-cup breasts. "Do you like this?" He asks me, his voice thick and husky.
I'm scared because I do like it, even though it's wrong. All I can do is nod while biting down hard on my lip to keep from crying. Now his tongue, hot and wet, snakes out and slowly flicks my hardened nipple, causing me to release a muffled squeak. He softly moans and takes it into his mouth, gently sucking, licking and nibbling. It's filling me with hot, unwelcome pleasure, and I feel a sharp pain as my lip splits. I quickly release it from my teeth, and suck in a deep breath, making the warm, coppery blood spill into my mouth, just as Erik begins to work at my other breast while using his hand to to fondle the already abused one. I feel amazing, and it's getting so hard not to give in. He shifts to put a knee between my legs, and all too willingly I part my thighs so he can slide in between them. I can feel his erection, strained by his jeans, pressing against my inner thigh as he slides upwards, kissing and licking my neck. He opens his mouth wider and bites down hard on my skin, and I loudly gasp and my hips rise upward. His chest rumbles as he moans, the sound vibrating in my ribcage and making my heart change its beat. I want this, I do.
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. . hot tears slide down my face and fall into my hair as he settles his arms beside my head, and lets his face hover inches away from mine. "Are you okay? I'll stop if I'm upsetting you, sis. "
There's so much love in those words, it smooths away the last traces of fear, and at last I look up at him. His face is so handsome, and his eyes are so deep and honest. There's only one thing I can really think to ask him now.
"When I found you that day, in the shower. . . why?"
He sighs and searches my face as he thinks. My angel gently strokes my lip, seeing the blood. "I did it because I liked it. . .
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it didn't really hurt at all when I cut myself, it actually felt good. So I kept doing it. "
"So. . . you're just a cutter, then?"
"It's not like that. Bleeding is actually as good as having a massage, to me. It's just something that I like, almost a fetish. "
"Like baseball?"
He chuckles, the sound bouncing in my chest. I gaze at his lips, pink and juicy, and I lean up to kiss them. He tangles a hand in my hair to support my neck, and we kiss. Slowly at first, then our tongues slide out to make it deeper. I let out a soft moan, and he lays my head on the pillow beneath me, and lets his full weight sink onto my body. He's too heavy, and I can't breathe. I squeak and wiggle in protest, and he quickly scoops his arms around my waist and rolls over so that I'm on top instead.
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I let my legs part wider and my body burns even more with lust. "Erik, touch me," I mumble, only parting from his lips for a moment.
His hands course their way down my back and over my ass, making me shiver. His long, thick fingers pull up the material of my skirt, and he pulls me up before touching the soaking wet space between my legs. Unable to focus on kissing him, I pull away and bury my face in his warm neck. "Oh yes, Erik. . . please, I'm so wet. . . "
I let him pull down my leggings, and I tug them off my legs and cast them aside before I remove my panties as well. Soaking wet, my pussy makes a wet smacking sound as I spread my legs and remount him. "I wanna be touched. "
"Mmm.
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. . you want my fingers, sis?" He slides his hand down over the soft, curly hair and begins teasing my clit, making me rock my hips.
"Please. . . oh god. . . you could use your tongue for all I care. "
"Oh fuck, I'd love to lick your hot little cunt. "
"Then do it, Erik. "
Obligingly he rolls me over onto my back again, and slides down my body, only stopping to remove my skirt. Hungrily I spread my legs wide, exposing myself to him. He leans forward, and begins kissing my clit, sucking it into his mouth and letting his tongue course over the nub there, making me cry out.
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Juices begin trickling out of me as I rock my hips towards his face, and he pulls away to slide his tongue inside me. Hot throbs of pleasure fill me as his tongue slithers in and out, caressing the walls of my pussy. I reach down and tug fiercely on his hair, trying to pull him as close as I can. "Oh god, I'm gonna cum. . . . don't stop, please. . . I'm so close. . . "
He's unable to resist my cries, and begins licking my clit so his finger can slide in. He begins pushing his finger in, then out, then back in, and my hips roll in time.
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It only takes a few seconds for my orgasm to come, and I jerk and scream his name as my pussy releases a small gush of sticky, white cum around his digit. My body trembles and I let him lap up the cum into his mouth, and listen to him savor every drop. He crawls back up over me and presses his weight into me. "I wanna be inside you sis, I wanna make you mine. "
My brother, my Angel, has always been there for me. He's so far fulfilled every role he possibly could in my life, and now he wants to fill in the last hole. He wants to be my lover. I can't refuse him that. He sits up and pulls off his shirt, and his chest gleams with sweat. he unzips his pants, and my eyes lock on his hands as the pants slide off. Now he moves to sit next to me, and smiles. "Whenever you're ready," he says.
It takes me a moment to collect my nerves, and I slowly reach out and curiously touch the bulge in his boxers. He softly hisses and the bulge throbs. "It feels like a rock.
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. . is it gonna be slimy when I pull it out?"
He can't help but chuckle at my naive question. "Why don't you see?"
This is the single most erotic moment of my life. My big brother gently coaxing me into releasing his erect cock from his boxers, while making it feel like a voyage of discovery. My fingers curl over the waistband, and I begin to tug them down. He raises up off the bed so I can get them over his ass, and from there, they end up on the floor. He's absolutely gorgeous. A thin trail of dark hair leads down his stomach to his beautiful erect cock, which is scantly fringed with long, curly pubic hairs. His cock itself is at least eight inches long, all of it throbbing. It's not slimy at all, and gives the impression that it'll explode if not treated gently. His balls are swollen, filled with semen that will soon be inside me. "God, it's so big, Erik. . .
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"
My fingers slide over the hard shaft, tracing their way over thick veins to the mushroom cap on top. He moans, and oily precum trickles out of the head. I smear it over the cap and give his shaft a single, firm stroke. "Oh fuck, sis. . . you're a natural. . . "
"Mmm. . . I bet it would feel amazing inside me. "
I know it's too much for him, and he's soon crawling over me again, sliding between my legs. "You want me inside you? You want your big brother to put his cock in your pussy?"
I give a soft, high-pitched mew and slide my hands over his shoulders.
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"Please, big brother. . . "
This is what he really likes, being my angel, my older brother. He'll give me anything I ask for. "Open up for me, sis. I'll go slow. "
My legs part, and he uses his hand to make the head of his cock slide over my clit. I'm burning again, and juices start to trickle between my thighs. He gets me nice and wet, then uses his fingers to put the lubricant on his cock. He must be a pro at doing this. He eases the head inside me, and I mew and dig my toes into the bedding. Inch after inch is pushed deep inside, stretching me. He'll be my first, and my last. He reaches my hymen, and I can see the deep approval in his eyes.
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"I always knew you were a good girl, baby sis. And now you'll always be mine. "
I ready myself, but it doesn't stop the pain that I feel as he thrusts through, tearing me open. I whimper and try to pull away, but he sinks all the way inside and holds me tight. "It hurts, Erik. . . let me go. "
"It's okay, it'll stop. It'll feel good soon. "
It's so amazing, knowing that I'm his now. His cock slides back and forth, in and out in a slow, yet wonderful rhythm. I can only imagine what he must feel, knowing that he's so deep inside me, making me feel so much pleasure. "Oh god, Erik, please. .
. "
He smirks, lust making his beautiful brown eyes twinkle sinfully. "What is it? You need something from your big brother?"
"Faster. . . "
He softly moans my name before shifting between my legs, then starts thrusting with surprising stamina. In, out, in, out, I can't even breathe, all I can do is moan and whimper his name. The pleasure is so great, tears build up in my eyes and I cry. "Oh god, big brother!"
He digs his fingers deep into my hips, and the look on his face is urgent. "I'm gonna cum," he warns me.
"Then cum. . . inside me, the way it should be. "
He can't even try to protest as I grind my hips against his, and he lets out a strangled growl as his cock throbs, then releases a torrent of hot, sticky semen deep within me as I climax.
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We throb, tremble, and cling to each other, out of breath and energy. It's all I can do to kiss his sweet lips, a gesture of gratitude and love. "I love you, big brother. "
He smiles, and strokes her cheek. And to think, I had a whole month to spend with him.
.
