*All characters are 18+. This is a work of fiction for erotic entertainment only. Real-life sex should always be with enthusiastic consent.*
*Edited to fix the name confusion. This is what I get for writing multiple stories at once. :) *
***
"See you soon!"
I ended the call with my mom and hopped into the shower.
Tomorrow was Thanksgiving!
Now, I wasn't usually so happy about this silly holiday. It's about family, and I loved mine, truly -- except for my brother. Bruce ruined everything. Five years older was apparently enough to treat me like a kid, even after I left for college. And I don't mean things like calling me 'kiddo' or a teasing pat on the head. I cried in front of him once because my boyfriend broke up with me. Bruce got me a pacifier the next day. Thanks, asshole.
That wasn't the worst of it. But I was just glad that this year, he wasn't coming to Thanksgiving! I know, that's not very Thanksgiving-spirit of me. Oh, well.
Bruce was going to his girlfriend's home -- poor girl. But her suffering meant less of mine, and I grinned on the whole two-hour drive to my parents' house.
--
"Bruce?! What are you doing here?" I blurted.
Fuck.
A familiar little smirk started in the corner of his lips. He took a good look at me.
"Good to see you too. It's
Thanksgiving
, you know."
I rolled my eyes. "I meant, your girlfriend?"
His ugly smile faltered and turned into a grimace. "We're done. Whatever. How 'bout you? Cried over any good boys lately?"
I flipped him off and walked away. Good for that girl. Crap luck for me.
Clearly, I celebrated too early, and the universe decided to have a laugh on my account. Fine. This just meant I had to be on my guard as usual -- check my bed for surprise "gifts", watch everything I ate or drank, maybe lock my room if possible. Ugh.
Bruce never did anything that my parents had to step in for. So when my mom tossed me this next bit of fantastic news, I had to grit my teeth and bear it.
It was midday, and most of the family had arrived. I was eyeing the alcohol cabinet. A few of the men had gotten started on beers. Was it too early for vodka shots? Probably.
My mom called for my help in the kitchen. When I walked in, she glanced toward the living room and sighed. "I'm sorry, honey, can you share a room with your brother tonight? Uncle Dan's hotel lost his reservation, and we offered him Bruce's room..."
My mouth opened but I had nothing to say. None of the rooms had an extra bed. Share a bed with my brother?! Fuck that. He was sleeping on the floor.
But right there, in front of my mom, I worked my mouth into something like a smile. "Ok, sure."
"Thanks, honey." She smiled gratefully. "I know you two aren't close -- maybe you could talk to him tonight."
"Um, yeah." I changed the subject. We chatted for a few minutes -- no new boyfriend, classes were fine, yes, I'd be back for Christmas...
Miraculously, dinner passed without any of my brother's stunts. He barely said a word to me, and I was happier that way. Maybe, just this one year, I could make it through a family gathering without a new reason to hate my brother.
A girl could hope.
I went to bed early to claim my spot. No way was he taking the bed from me.
As I was dozing off, snuggled under the soft sheets, I felt a nudge on my back.
"Move over."
Fucker finally made it. I tucked the sheets in tighter and spread my legs across the bed. "Go away."
He sighed. "I'm tired, please just move."
Wow, he said
please
. I didn't remember the last time he said that. Still.
"No. Here." I tossed a pillow onto the floor, then turned my back to him.
Silence was my response. Good. Maybe I'd buy him a dollhouse bed for Christmas.
The sounds of a zipper and clothes rustling convinced me that I'd won. Imagining him getting sore and achy on the floor cheered me up. With a little smile on my lips, I settled in for a nice night.
I should've known better.
The sheets ripped out of my hands. I spun onto my back with the force of his yank, my bare breasts and little black panties exposed to my asshole of a brother.
He flung the sheets away and crossed his arms. "I was trying to be nice, but you never stopped being a little bitch, did you?"
Yelping, I hugged my chest and glared. My eyes widened. Bruce was in his boxers -- just his boxers -- and that bulge between his legs was huge. If that's how he looked soft...
I tore my eyes away from my brother's crotch, even more annoyed now. "Me?! You got me a fucking stuffed animal for my birthday this year, and a tiny toy violin last Christmas!"
I was so incensed that I hardly noticed how his expression had turned from slightly annoyed to angry.
He rubbed his face. "That was a $500 collectible, and it wasn't a toy--No. Fuck this. You're a fucking moron, and you always have been."
I
was--oh,
fuck
, no. "Get out! I'll tell Mom you hit me! I'll--!"
"Shut up and move over," he demanded, stepping to the edge of the bed.
I hugged my boobs tighter. "No!"
After a beat, he shrugged. "Fine."
He got on the bed. On top of me!
He kneeled between my legs and propped himself above me with his arms on either side of my chest. I couldn't move my arms without exposing my tits, and if I shifted my legs too much, it'd be easier for him to make room for himself on the bed. The result was me glaring while my mostly naked brother hovered over me.
I hissed, "Get off! What do you think you're doing?!"
"Maybe I'll just sleep on you," he said with a stupid grin.
I rolled my eyes. "God, you're always a jerk--"
"I'm a jerk because you couldn't move?"
"I'm not sleeping with you!"
"It's one night!"
"Exactly! So get on the floor!" I barely remembered to keep my voice lowered as I covered my tits with one arm and shoved at his chest with the other. He didn't budge.
Something changed. His scowl narrowed into an intense stare and his lips pulled back.
In a low tone, he mumbled quietly, "Don't worry. I'll fuck the brat out of you."