NOTE:
This story does not reflect the author's views. The author does not claim to endorse, encourage, or practice the actions or attitudes depicted in this story. Look, it's totally fine to masturbate to fantasies. It is
VERY MUCH NOT OK
to actually do anything in real life. In real life, people have personalities, pasts and futures, mothers and fathers and families who love them. Actually doing anything you fantasize about is likely to get you jail time, castration, or worse. Much worse. Keep fantasy fantastical and always,
ALWAYS
get consent. Now you know. And of course everyone in this story is at least 18. That should go without saying. If you the reader are NOT well over 18, stop reading this! You might instead raid your parents' porn stash. I guarantee it exists. Anyway. Enjoy.
As I finished packing, my brother, Mike, knocked at the closed door and the low rumble of his voice came through. "Are you ready yet?" he asked brightly.
I opened the door and scowled at him. I was finally getting out of here, leaving for college this very morning. I had taken a year off after high school and now I was REALLY ready. But the thought still made me a little sad. My handsome older brother had been a big part of my life for the past nineteen years and now I would going to a college across the state from my parents and from him and his work. He still lived at home while he got his hardscaping business off the ground, and it had been a hard year. We'd been arguing a lot lately but he was always trying to make up so I guessed he was coming for one final attempt at reconciliation. I knew the fighting was ridiculous. I almost felt like the reason we were not able to get along was because I didn't know how to say good-bye to him.
"Oh," he said to my frowning face. "I guess I'll just say goodbye, then. Have fun in college." He turned to leave.
"Wait," I said. "Just come in."
Mike came in and waited by the door, seemingly ready to flee at the first sign of yelling. "I'm sorry, Mike. I don't mean to be mean." I took a deep breath. "We've just fighting a lot lately and I don't feel like that's the relationship I want with you. I don't like it." Mike was nodding, listening intently to me. "I must just be eager to get out of here. It's been hard with the kid here."
"Totally get it. I did the same thing before I left for school." Mike closed the door and continued. "It must be a 'coming of age' thing. You know, separating yourself from your home and family life and preparing to be on your own."
I smiled at him. "So we're friends?"
Mike pretended to think for a moment, hand to chin. "Yes, of course. But it'll be easier to say goodbye if you stop smiling," he said, grinning.
I rolled my eyes at him but didn't stop grinning. I paused for a moment, then said, "I was thinking."
"That's dangerous!"
"You should come with us," I said. "Help me get settled in at school."
"And do what? Hold your hand while you cross the street?"
"Well, no, I was more thinking you could get the people in my dorm to be nice to me."
He shrugged. "I guess I could do that. We'll be back by dinner and I don't have other plans today. Sure, yeah, I'd love to spend a little non-fighting time with you." He smirked at me and I smirked back. "I didn't come to say goodbye, actually, I came to tell you mom said it's time to go."
He carried my last suitcase down the stairs and I followed him. As soon as we walked into the kitchen, I stopped. My heart fell.
"You have to be kidding me," I said. My parents were fostering a little girl, and she was apparently packed up and ready to go with us.
"She's coming with us," my mom said, "We have to take her. Your dad has to go to the construction site today and we can't leave her alone in the house."
"There's way too much stuff. How is this possibly going to work? I just invited Mike to come help me unpack!"
"We'll make it work. Let's get all this stuff into the car."
It turned out everything fit into the car...sort of. The car seat fit in the minivan's middle seat and we removed the other middle seat to allow more storage. We filled the front passenger seat with suitcases and plastic bags of clothes. We folded down one of the rear seats for more storage, creating a kind of cabin in the back that was completely invisible to my parents or my foster sister. It was going great until we realized we'd forgotten the little dorm refrigerator we'd purchased. The only space left was in one of the rear seats.
"I'm sorry, Mike, I guess you won't be able to join us," said my mom.
"Oh, I think we can make it work," Mike said. "Jesse can just sit on my lap."
My mom paused, looking speculatively at Mike and then at me. "How do you feel about that, Jesse?" she asked.
"Well, if that's the only way I'm going to get Mike to help with move-in, I'll take the hit," I said.
We all got in the car. As I was moving to sit on Mike's lap, I looked down at my clothes. "I probably should have worn jeans instead of this halter dress," I said to Mike.
"I like how you look in that, actually," teased Mike. "It shows off your knobby knees."
I smacked him. "Hey!" he complained.
With all of us tightly ensconced in the car, we set off. It'd be an uncomfortable 4 hours. After some yelled discussion, we decided that mom's music choice would win - 80's rock, cranked up. The kid loved it, babbling loudly and continually until she fell asleep about 45 minutes into the trip.
The ride was bumpy. Mike's thighs were hard, and I found myself constantly adjusting. After an hour, Mike was complaining that I was digging my butt into his crotch.
"I'm sorry, there's not exactly a lot of room," I said.
"Do you want to switch to just sitting on one leg?" Mike said.
"I'm worried we'll hit a pothole and I'll fall off and neuter you. Can't you just deal with it for a few more hours?"
"It's not the worst pain in the world, but I can't get comfortable," he complained.
"How about if I lean back against you so the weight is distributed better?" I suggested.
"It's worth a try."
I leaned back against his chest, nestling my head into his shoulder. He looked down at me and I noticed his gaze linger on my chest. I looked down and noticed that the movement had caused my dress to gape open, revealing my breasts. I wasn't wearing a bra - I don't usually need to - and I was, like, ALL the way visible.
"Eek," I squealed, and wiggled around, trying to get my dress to lay right.
"Ouch!" Mike yelped. I'd pushed too hard into his groin and he was hurtin'. "That's not working. How about I move you around myself." He put his hands on my waist and lifted me up, then put me back down again on his lap. I was shocked by how easily he moved me around - the exercise classes were really paying off for him.
"That's better," he said. I had to admit it was - now I was centered on his lap and my legs were draped around his. It was quite comfortable.
After a few minutes I noticed that it was also warm. The air conditioner wasn't really reaching us, and I started getting drowsy.
"You can sleep, if you want," Mike said, putting his arm around my neck, over my shoulders.
I looked at his arm and then looked at his face. I wasn't sure I liked his proximity to my chest, but I was exhausted and this was even more comfortable. "Okay," I said, and closed my eyes.
I was just drifting off to sleep when I felt Mike's hand move lower, from my shoulder to the top of my chest. I opened my eyes and glared at him.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you," he said. He didn't sound very sincere.
"I'm not awake," I lied, and closed my eyes again.