Brother & Sister Pleasure: Ep1

"Dylan, come here."

My older sister, Lucy, was lying on the floor of her bedroom. She was on her stomach, wearing only a t-shirt and panties. She had a pillow under her groin, folded at the corner. She held herself in a backwards arch, like doing a cobra pose in yoga. Her body trembled with effort. Her cute, round face was cherry red. Her light blue eyes glazed over and oddly empty.

I'd been lost in my own world, walking down the hall, when Lucy called out to me. It was a hot day, summer was just getting started, and I was already suffering under the sad reality that our new house didn't have air conditioning. My minimal outfit of a t-shirt and mesh shorts felt like a full, fur coat.

"You should. Try this," Lucy gasped, "Feels really good." She took a deep breath and collapsed flat on the floor. "Fuck." The word slipped out of her. Her long, golden blonde hair pooled around her head.

I stared at Lucy as she lost herself for a moment. My older sister's skimpy outfit revealed way more of her curvy body and tan skin than I was used to seeing. Her breasts looked particularly large in her baby blue v-neck. Her full butt was similarly flattered by her yellow, bikini-cut panties.

I couldn't help but compare myself to my sister. My hair was closer to brown than blonde. If Lucy was all circles, then I was straight lines. We had the same blue eyes, and our faces were similar, sort of, but that was about it. Lucy came back to consciousness. "Seriously, Dylan, come here," she said, an edge of annoyance in her voice.

Tentatively, I stepped inside her doorframe.

"What's up?" I asked, playing dumb.

As a 19-year-old boy, just two years younger than Lucy, I knew what masturbation looked like. But I'd never seen anyone do it that way with a pillow. And I certainly wasn't prepared for my sister to openly share it.

Lucy and I had always been close. Unlike our friends (and our other siblings) who seemed to be suffocated by their close relationships -- fighting each other for air -- Lucy and I both basked in our shared spaces. We were playmates as kids and confidants as teens. I told my sister nearly everything and had an easy expectation that she would do the same.

But we weren't, you know. Like this.

It was awkward when we watched a movie, and a sex scene came on. I felt uncomfortable folding Lucy's underwear when I did the laundry. I noticed my sister had a nice body because she was super curvy and stuff. But I didn't, like, sneak on her in the shower or ogle at her bathing suit when we went down the shore.

We were, you know, normal siblings. Until that random afternoon when my sister called me into her bedroom while she was grinding her pussy against a pillow.

"Come on, try this with me," Lucy said. She wiggled her butt purposefully, clearly starting her process all over again.

"You mean, like, lying on the ground?" I asked.

her face pink and sweaty with exertion. "You put a pillow down. And you lie on top of it. Then you kind of press down.

Gingerly, I stepped into her bedroom. Like me, Lucy was a bit

it felt almost foreboding. Like the air itself was all charged up. As soon as I stepped inside, I was hit with the scent of my sister's honey-sweet perfume mixed with something else; instinctively familiar.

a sad, floppy, lime green thing whose filling had fled long ago -- and dropped it on the ground. I fluffed the pillow as best I could, then lay down on top of it. I adjusted myself

Arched herself again. Her wide hips swiveled slightly back and forth on the pillow. Again, I became very aware of my sister's body. Her broad shoulders and long arms. Large breasts and

working with very different equipment -- I could kind of see what

the pillow made things too soft. For my sister, the cushion gave her something to rub against. For me

an erection was the perfect way to start getting myself off. But not like this. Some instinctual part of me knew that if my

Quite close. I could see every detail of Lucy's face, screwed up with effort. She was clearly building toward another release. She clenched, held, then flopped in a strained, desperate

that maybe something could be there, but I knew I wouldn't be able to reach it in the moment. Instead, I sort of teased myself

Lucy asked, suddenly aware that

might work

said, clearly disappointed. "That's too bad. I'm glad you tried

"Me too," I said.

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the floor. I tossed Lucy's pillow back on her bed. My older

wandered away, feeling shell shocked. Unable to remember where I'd been headed in the

*

hour later, I was in my bedroom -- sweating my balls off while playing Elden Ring -- when

could be doing it

my subconsciousness had been chewing on this for

side. Looked down at the grey carpet. My bedroom door was shut. The distraction of my repeated virtual deaths meant my dick was soft --

lightning, there it was. This was a very different experience than I was used to. It was more work than stroking myself off, but it also felt fantastic in a slightly different way. Because I was lying on my stomach, in some ways it felt more like fucking, because I could imagine someone under me, feeling the

was a wondrous final reward. I lay on the floor for a while, smelling my carpet. Muscles aching like I'd done an hours' worth of exercise.

*

from work and we all loaded up our plates. We had a tiny, circular dining room table that my dad had found at a yard sale down the street. It was big enough for four, but not six, so Lucy and

how meals used to be, all of us carousing around the big table, talking excitedly about what had happened that day. Here, though, the clatter of utensils and plates overwhelmed whatever urge we might

own worlds, then I

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