[This is a sequel to 'An Online Sin']
*
Almost every time I came - either flying solo or at the hands of my boyfriend - I was thinking about Ben. It became an obsession. And I knew it was not necessarily a healthy one. This was no step-brother or half-brother, this was my 100% blood brother, three years younger than me and telling me over the internet what kind of unspeakable acts he would do to me if we ever met.
Of course, he still didn't know who I was. And it had to stay that way. But my fertile imagination and cunning mind were running wild, trying to imagine a way we could be together physically without him knowing who I was. Suddenly just watching him shoot over semi-naked pictures of me via his webcam was kind of tame.
I would sit at my PC, watching his stream of filth pop up in a window before me, gently pressing my fingers between my legs wishing it was his hand. Then I would go to bed and have a long, drawn-out play – but always with a brand new scenario in my mind, cumming hard and alone but with my little brother and his throbbing cock in my head.
This went on for months, during which he was begging to meet me every time we 'spoke' online. I deliberately stayed away from home - my old home that is, dad's house - choosing instead to spend my next half-term break in my student accommodation just to avoid being in the same house as him. I needed to get my head straight before I saw him in the flesh.
At the end of the year, though, I packed my bags and went home, dad collecting me in his car and moving me back into my old room for the summer weeks. When we got home after a four-hour drive, we found Ben upstairs posing in a full-length mirror wearing some brown rags and holding a fairly realistic-looking light sabre. Hello?
"Hiya sis! Whaddya think?"
"I think... I don't know what I think."
"Luke Skywalker. End of term party this weekend."
I stared blankly at him, my brain trying to kill off a crass joke about his light sabre.
"Duh! It's fancy dress, Hollywood as the theme. Isn't it realistic enough?"
"Oh, well, I guess so. A stormtrooper would have been more impressive though."
"Yeah and a shitload more expensive." He walked over and gave me a peck on the cheek. I felt myself going red already, so I smiled and turned to pick up a bag and throw it on my bed. "You having fun up there? Any hot chicks you can fix me up with?"
"Oh I'm sure you're doing just fine for chicks Ben."
"Yeah but I like older girls, Jane."
"So go on the pull with dad," I turned and winked. "Got a date for your Star Wars party?"
"Nah. I'm hoping Princess Leia will drag me into a corner and let me stroke her wookie." We both laughed, and he went off to get changed. I sat on the bed plotting. Fancy dress was my perfect opportunity. But what outfit?
Four days later I was skulking in the corner of a drunken end-of-year party for horny 18-year-olds dressed head to toe in black PVC. Catwoman. It had not been easy to afford, it had not been easy to shop in an S&M store and it had most definitely not been easy to squeeze into while in the confines of a toilet cubicle in a bar down the road. But fuck me it was hot. I was getting wet just looking at myself in the mirror when I had finished.
I found myself thinking I was glad I had made myself wear something like this when I was 21, while I could get away with it, because it fitted me perfectly. It zipped straight down the middle of my front, down between my legs and up round the back to the base of my spine. Horny as. And the real bonus was the mask - it was attached to the costume down the back of the neck and so couldn't just be just whipped off by anyone. It came down over my nose - with sensuous cat's eye-shaped holes, naturally - and left just my mouth, chin, neck and ears free. My black leather boots were on, I did some make-up at the bar and went on to attract a pile of unwanted attention while wandering down the street to the venue and then entering alone.