I sat panting on the bench of the tennis court, soaked with sweat, my quads sore and shaking. My trainer Marcus looked at me with bemusement and pity.
"Three hours? Come on, I'm not even winded."
I gave him a ferocious glare. Three hours. None of the other girls on my team ever endured a three hour lesson with the grueling taskmaster. I lazily unscrewed my water bottle and to my dismay found the water to be more warm than tepid. I still drank from it but the plastic taste made me want to gag. "Marcus, go away." I grumbled up at him. He was bouncing a tennis ball up and down on his racket, looking utterly bored.
"I want two laps around the park, and then you can go home."
I hung my head in a defeated way but managed to make my legs work long enough to get up. I forced my body to obey; after all, my dad was paying through the teeth for these training sessions. I jogged off the court and onto the pavement, and quickly ran around the park twice. I allowed my mind to wander as I ran and found that I could only concentrate on one thing; that stupid French test next week. Damn it all, I thought. How the hell am I going to pass that stupid test?
"Hey sexy sweaty lady!" a male voice called out. I looked up, a retort on my lips and saw my brother Kyle riding his bicycle alongside me. He whistled in appreciation, his eyes staring at my sweat soaked chest. Before I could make my witty comeback, he rode on ahead of me. I turned back toward the courts and to my surprise and relief, Marcus had packed my bag for me. "Good job today. Keep it up. I'll see you next week."
I nodded and began the long walk home. Darkness began to fall, and with it was a cool breeze that chilled the sweat on my body. All I could fantasize about was a hot shower and a decent meal. After what seemed like forever, what in all actuality was about 25 minutes, I opened my front door. I dumped my bag and wearily walked down the hall towards my bedroom. The house was quiet and I didn't bother shutting the door. I took off my visor and let it fall with a thud on the floor. I yanked out the rubber band holding my hair back and felt my hair tumble around my shoulders. I slipped out of my windbreaker and undid the front clasps on my tennis bra. My breasts seemed to sag a little with relief. The cool air hitting them felt wonderful. I kicked off my tennis shoes and pulled off my sweaty bloomers. I bent down and picked them up and turned to deposit them in my laundry basket.
I gasped in surprise as I saw Kyle standing in the doorway, his arms crossed in front of his chest, his eyes intently gazing at my chest. "You pervert!" I shrieked and threw the only thing I had in my hand at the time at him. He caught it deftly and fingered the damp material almost thoughtfully. He turned from my door and walked into his bedroom, still holding my underwear. I forgot that all I had on was my tennis skirt and socks and I stomped in, looking as pissed off as I felt. I was shocked at the sight of him, lying on his bed, my panties on his face, sniffing appreciatively.
I couldn't think of anything to say. I was completely floored by his action. My own big brother for God's sake! "Chill out sis. Here's your panties." He tossed them to me casually, as though it was the most natural thing in the world. I couldn't think of anything to say, so I took them, crossed the hall and shut my door behind me. I leaned back against the door trembling with anger. I would get him back for this. My body was aching. I didn't even have energy enough for a shower. I sat on the edge of my bed and pulled off my socks. I tossed them across the room. I thought about standing up and taking off my skirt but it didn't seem worth the effort. I fell back into the soft pillows of my bed and pulled my feet up. I stretched out and let the clean smell of the sheets distract me from the earthy smells of my body. I closed my eyes and felt myself relax.
I was dreaming of when I was little, and Kyle and I were swimming in our neighbor's pool. He laughed and splashed me with water. I splashed him back and then I felt his arms around my waist, pulling me close. He was going to dunk me, I knew it. I giggled as I felt his body pressed up against mine. I could feel his warm breath on my face. His hands slid up from my waist and were rubbing my breasts. I gasped with the intense pleasure, my nipples swelling under his caress. I moaned and then I realized this was all wrong. What the hell was going on?
I woke with a start and nearly screamed. Kyle was lying on top of me, not with his whole body weight but enough that I was pinned. His eyes were filled with desire as his hands molded my naked breasts, his fingertips playing expertly with my hard nipples. "Kyle." I pleaded with that one word. Why was he doing this?
"Shhhh. It's ok." He whispered.
I looked up at him, completely confused, but then I began to notice that my legs were spread apart and a hard bulge in his pants was pressed up against my pussy. He moved nearly imperceptibly, but the jean material rubbed against my now swollen clit and I nearly moaned with the pleasure. "Kyle, we have to stop. We can't be doing this. It's wrong."
He gazed at me intently and leaned forward, his mouth an inch from mine. Without a word he swooped down and I felt his firm lips gently pressing against mine. I meant to scream, to thrash my body and fight and get him off of me, but my young body responded without my consent and my lips parted for him. He instantly took advantage of my silent acquiescence and his tongue slipped into my mouth. He touched my tongue with his tentatively and I responded. Our tongues seemed to dance and I was lost in a dream, being kissed so passionately by him.
Liquid heat seemed to fill the opening between my legs, a deep almost pounding desire and I lifted my hips a fraction of an inch, so that the hard bulge slipped down between my pussy lips to the opening. I couldn't believe what I was doing, but a force beyond myself, teenage hormones perhaps, had taken hold of me. He pushed his jean covered penis against my pussy and I felt the tip enter me. He lowered and maneuvered his hips so that more of his bulge pushed inside of me and then his whole body shuddered against me. He pulled his lips from mine and gazed down at me intently.
"Kerry."
He spoke my name almost reverentially. I had no idea how to respond. My body ached with impatience, I wanted to cum so badly. As if reading my mind, he extricated his pelvis from mine and sat up. I didn't move, just watched him sitting there, my naked body splayed out for him to see. His hands rested on the tops of my knees and slowly, they moved downward, across my inner thighs. His fingertips caressed the mound of my pussy and gently he pushed my swollen lips apart. He traced lines lazily up and down the sticky slit and stopped when he found my clit. He pressed his thumb against it, as though it was a button and a shockwave of pleasure rocketed through me. My tense muscles clenched and with his other hand, he extended his fingers inside of me. Rhythmically, as if by magic, he finger fucked me, his hands moving expertly, faster and faster. He pressed hard against my g-spot and I felt my pussy convulse. As soon as he felt that he slammed his fingers into me, harder and harder and the headboard of my bed banged against the wall. I could hear the sloppy slapping sounds of my cunt juices surrounding his fingers as he fucked me. I screamed in pleasure as a wave seemed to roll over me, my pussy clenched rapidly, my hips arched, my hands were death grips on my sheets. He stopped moving his fingers though he left them inside of me and I felt myself go limp. I looked up at him, and his forehead was covered in sweat. He smiled at me weakly and pulled his hand away. I almost felt sorry that he had to, his fingers seemed at home inside of me.
