Breafast

It is always great to wake of a morning with my brother's arms wrapped around my waist. His morning wood presses into my ass, even in his dreams he tries to fuck me. Fortunately for both of us, we have nothing to do today.

I let him hold me a while longer, normally I would get up and wake him up with me but today is already cold and I appreciate his warmth against my skin. Then, I am overcome with the sudden urge to pee... my life is full of tiny, constant challenges that ruin such beautiful moments.

I can't move without waking him, so I don't bother trying otherwise and he wakes with a disgruntled yawn. The bathroom is adjacent to our bedroom, and next to the bedroom we pretend he uses. I am naked, the winter air prickles my flesh and sends shivers down my spine.

I pause before the mirror and examine myself for a moment, I look tired, my breasts are sagging, my tattoos are fading... I am overly critical of a morning. I progress towards the toilet and sit myself down.

I can hear Chris in the bedroom still trying to shake himself from sleep. I wonder idly to myself if he'll stay hard once he is awake. Maybe a shower will shake me from this funk.

The shower door creaks open and I turn on the hot water, the room steams up almost immediately and I lightly burn my hand as I reach in to turn on the cold. I slip into the shower and shut the door, washing off my body and letting the warm water trickle down throughout my cracks and crevasses, stream over my tits and down my stomach. I feel warm again for the first time since leaving bed and my mind starts to turn to other things.

The bathroom door creaks open and a half-asleep Chris wanders in. He is stark naked but not even the foggy, wet glass of the shower door stops me from admiring it. He looks at me in the shower for a moment, his long cock dangling half-limp before him and a sleepy grin on his face.

"Save some hot water for me."

Chris is far from obsessed with health but his trim body still manages to show off his firm muscles -- he doesn't have abs but his pecs are solid, he isn't ripped but his arms are strong and lean muscled. His shaggy black hair hangs down around his eyes in spiky fringes that he occasionally has trimmed away. He has burning blue eyes that are, at the moment at least, struggling to stay open.

There is no doubt he is my brother, otherwise we'd move somewhere far away and pretend we aren't related. Maybe that was part of the reason I dyed my hair so often but even then we look similar.

I want to invite him in, but he saunters over to the toilet and I shut the door and avert my gaze.

"Come on dude, someone's in here."

"Sis, I came in your ass last night... don't you think we're beyond seeing each other piss?"

"Gotta keep some mystery..."

He shakes, then flushes the toilet, "Right."

The water turns to ice and I scream profanities at him. All thoughts of inviting him in disappear and he leaves the room chuckling.

I leave the shower running while I dry myself off, if he wants to be juvenile two can play at that game. He is in the kitchenette when I finally do come out with a fresh pot of coffee brewing and a notepad on the table he is scribbling on. I am depressed to notice he is wearing clothes now, and I'm sure the feeling is mutual but at least he stands to make me a coffee.

"Hey, how do want your coffee?"

He always makes the best coffee, I don't even get how, because it is just some cheap supermarket blend. I asked him once and he tried to explain it, but it had something to do with heat and chemistry.

Trying to be cute I tell him, "Like how I want my men."

"In the ass with cream?"

"No... maybe."

He places a cup in front of me; long, strong and sweet exactly how I like it.

"Thanks, uh... you planning on doing anything today?"

"Just run a few errands; you know -- party supplies."

He turns the notepad around and slides it across the table to me. It is a shopping list: condoms, lube, glue, beer, cider, bourbon, whiskey, scotch, tequila, condoms.

"You've got condoms on the list twice."

"Well, there is a few days left until new years."

"And the lube?"

"You've gotta have lube."

He did have a point, I was still a little sore from yesterday.

"Why? Did you want something?"

"No..." I pout.

"Really?"

I nod, he always knows what I want even if he refuses to admit it.

"Alright, but quick."

I smile and gleefully clear the table before planting my ass firmly down upon it.

He looks at me a moment as if trying to work out how to tackle an engineering problem, then gestures at me. I pull down my black tights. The faux-wood laminate on the table is cold against my ass and the air has a sting to it. My lush pussy presents to him and the visible bulge in his track-pants grows. I am wet, he is hard, I want to feel him deep inside my pussy.

Instead I am glad that he sinks to his knees and I'm incredibly glad he is shaven.

"You don't wear the striped tights I bought you any more?"

"They have holes in them..."

"Oh right... strategically placed holes."

The knees had worn out, which has nothing to do with sex... it doesn't.

His lips are warm from the coffee, they press firmly against the top of my pussy and linger over my skin as he kisses me tenderly down into the inside of my thighs. He has a hold of my legs and pulls down my tights some more so he can slip his head between them and my crotch. My knees hook over his shoulders and his hands cup my legs around my pussy -- his index fingers part my hungry folds so he can examine the pink inside.

"You still have the prettiest pussy."

He leans in closer and his nose brushes against my clit, it sends shivers through me. He lets go of my labia and instead grabs my hips, his nose rubs in against me and buries his face in my cunt. His tongue runs through my slick folds, traces sweet circles into my velvet flesh. He drags me in closer to smother himself in me, his tongue teases against my vagina and I am already climaxing.

I can barely make out the obscenities I'm screaming at him, trying to urge him on and it seems to work because his tongue pierces through and swims deep inside me. I'm quivering, moaning, the electric pleasure is consuming me. He doesn't stop, even after I come all over his face. My juices flood across his handsome features, sweet nectar drenches his lips and dribbles down his chin.

I am spent and he relents, looking up at me from between my legs.

"Hope you left some hot water..."

He slips free and I pull up my tights. I get a glance of him before I collapse back on the table. The top of his shirt is soaked, he looks like he did when we were kids eating watermelon. Sticky drips dropping from his nose and chin, stains on his face and his shirt drenched as if he'd tipped a bucket of water over his head.

Guilt stricken I struggle to get up off the table but find my legs too wobbly to run. I still manage to get out the front door with the list in my hand before I hear him hollering at me.

Outside, an older woman from across the hall is looking at me. She must have heard. I smile at her and blush before wobbling down the hall.