Fated

Summer was clearly upon us. The humidity was high, and the temperature was higher, even at night. It got to the point where Eric and I would almost always leave the blinds closed, even during the day, so that we (or, more specifically, I) could walk around topless in the apartment.

...or, often, we would wear even less than that.

Usually, I wore only a panty or a thong. Actually, I was wearing thongs more and more often. My big brother definitely enjoyed the thongs I wore, for it showed even more of my body for his eyes to devour when I only wore a thong. But even if I wore shorts or a skirt, my simply being topless gave him some eye candy as well.

As for me, I quite enjoyed seeing my big brother topless. He may not have been cover model material, and I knew that I would never see him parading down a runway to show off the latest Speedo swimwear, but there was still something about seeing him topless which made me smile, which triggered thoughts of my bare chest pressed firmly against his, of listening to his heartbeat as he cuddled with me on one of the beds.

It was early on a Friday evening, and I was preparing a standard student dinner for us: macaroni and cheese with sliced hot dogs added for additional texture and flavor. I wore only a crimson thong as I set the macaroni to boil. I heard the key in the lock, and not long afterward saw Eric step into the kitchen, already shirtless, his body bearing a thin sheen of sweat.

"Honey, I'm home," he said softly, and I giggled. We shared a quick kiss, then I returned my attention to preparing dinner. He stood behind me, smelling faintly of sweat, his dampened front to my back as his hands gently squeezed my breasts. I felt him beginning to lengthen and harden against my backside, and I smiled again, more to myself than anything else, still amazed that I could have such an arousing effect on my big brother.

"You're dessert," he promised with a soft whisper directly into my ear.

"Gladly," I responded, "but only if you're a member of the Clean Plate Club."

"Yes, Mom," Eric acknowledged, and we both laughed together.

By the time dinner was ready, Eric had taken a quick shower – literally just enough time to wipe the sweat from his skin. Like me, he wore only his underwear, and in a way I was amazed that he was wearing even that much, although the A/C certainly would have helped to cool him after the drive back from the office at the hottest part of the day. As we ate, our bare feet kept touching, sliding up each other's legs, until finally I rested a foot in his lap, although his thighs soon parted, which allowed the heel of my foot to press against his forbidden phallus. After that, as he ate, his left hand kept caressing my foot, which also served to hold my foot in place to gently nudge him and slowly arouse him, just as the act slowly aroused me as well.

When we had finished eating, we both leaned back in our chairs. My foot was still in my big brother's lap, and he used both hands and his thighs to keep my foot in position while lovingly massaging me. My eyes fluttered closed, and I could feel the love being transmitted into my foot and from there throughout the rest of my being. The crotch of my thong was definitely moistened by my growing arousal, and I was absolutely certain that Eric had taken note of the hardening points adorning my smallish breasts.

The hardened anatomy against the underside of my foot was unmistakable. It was tall and quite solid, hidden only by black cotton. My mouth watered as I envisioned myself kneeling underneath the table, my body thankfully trapped between his legs as my head bobbed up and down, pleasuring my big brother with my mouth and with my hands, swirling my tongue around his pulsing thickness, attempting to extract the creamy passion which weighted his testicles...

My eyes opened slowly as he lifted my foot from between his thighs. My sad eyes met his, and he simply said, "Prepare yourself for me, dessert."

Eric cleared the table, and as he was putting the dishes into the dishwasher, I removed my thong and set it on the table, then I mounted the table myself so that he could sit and lean forward a little to eat me. As I waited, I dipped a finger inside my wet body, then used it to begin rubbing my clitoris.

"That's it," I heard him encourage me from the kitchen, where he had a clear view of me. "Make yourself ready for me..."

I masturbated, my hard-tipped breasts shimmying atop my chest as I began to move against my own hand. My free hand gently pinched a nipple, knowingly fondled a breast, and I could no longer remain silent.

By the time my big brother returned naked to the tiny dining room, there was a noticeable puddle of lust beneath me, yet I felt no shame in feeling his hands nudging my thighs just a little further apart, no shame in his face being close enough to my sisterly sex that I could feel his enticing breath further warming the liquid love oozing from me.

"Remove your hand," he whispered, and I complied, brazenly kneading my breasts with both hands, and when he gave me the most intimate kiss I had ever known, a sound unlike any I had ever made before rose from deep in my soul.

My big brother ate his dessert, but he took his time, savoring my taste, enjoying my tangy sweetness. I was finger food for him, clenching around the invading digits and bucking under the ministrations of his discerning tongue. Despite the A/C, I was warm with passion, with desire, with love – with his love – and just when I thought my body would melt into his mouth, I exploded with a voiceless scream, tossed about on a tidal wave of ecstasy, banging my right wrist hard against the table in the throes of my release, the pain barely felt in the moment due to the lust surging through my blood.

I was still shuddering from the encompassing climax when I was pulled forward and hauled onto my big brother's lap. He held me tightly as I hugged him weakly, whimpering, trembling, murmuring sweet nothings into his ear, feeling his own arousal leaking between us.

Amazingly, Eric did not enter me that evening, nor did I have him for a midnight snack. While our flourishing sexuality was certainly important to us both, it was not a daily necessity, even though we spent most of the time topless or even nude in the apartment. The evening did end, however, with a long massage underneath his sensual hands – a massage so wonderful that I was lulled into slumber, awakening only because the daylight was too bright for me to sleep any longer.