Author Note: all characters in this story are 18 or older. If you do not like dubious consent and taboo themes, this story is not for you.
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"Want me to help you get ready?" Dillon, my older brother, asked. "It'll be easier that way."
I knew he was right, but it was still a little awkward. Since Dillon had graduated college and moved back home during my senior year of high school, he'd become an active part of our morning routine.
"Sure." I stood there, waiting and wanting him to take the lead. Even though this had been my life since turning eighteen, something I was okay with some days and hated others, I never liked initiating.
Dillon swept his floppy blonde hair out of his darkening blue eyes as he closed my bedroom door. Being only 5'2", I had to tilt my head up to maintain eye contact with my 6'2" brother as he towered over me.
"Are you wearing panties?" he murmured, his fingers skimming over my blouse buttons.
"Yes. You know the rules," I breathed, my nipples pebbling.
"Hmm..." Dillon slid his hand under my plaid skirt, rubbing his fingers over the soft cotton fabric of my pink panties.
I couldn't help but sway towards him when his thick fingers brushed over my clit. Biting my lip, my eyes fluttered closed while he went to work circling my little nub. With each pass, he added more pressure, the friction of his finger digging into my clit over the panties adding a delicious burn.
"Dillon," I panted, leaning forward and resting my forehead on his chest.
"You wet yet?" He answered his own question by dipping his fingers under my panties to slide them through my arousal. He swept his finger through my slick folds, massaging my labia and teasing my hole.
I whimpered when he took his hand out and licked his fingers clean. "Thank you," I murmured, blush hitting my cheeks.
"You can thank me later," he said with a wicked smile. "Now get going, you know Dad hates it when you're late."
With a nod, I grabbed my bag and made my way downstairs. As always, our father was sitting in his chair at the circular kitchen table. Setting my backpack on the floor, I padded over to him. I fell to my knees next to his legs, looking up at him expectantly while he read the paper.
Dad looked like an older version of Dillon, one who had let himself go. His hair was a white blonde with specks of gray here and there. He wore his reading glasses, which highlighted the wrinkles at his eyes. His jaw was still strong and his face was still relatively handsome.
Dad used to be a very athletic man, wanting to keep himself in prime condition for his wife. That is, until Mom ran off with her yoga instructor, leaving us all behind. After that, he retired and decided to spend more time with his family and less in the gym. He was still a muscular guy, but those muscles had some sag to them and his belly became bloated from all the late night beers.
Putting the paper down, Dad finally looked at me. "Good girl," he praised, cupping my cheek. I smiled because he seemed to be in a good mood today. "Get me ready."
Obediently, I reached into the flap of his plaid pajama pants and pulled out his flaccid cock. It was warm and heavy in my hand as I stroked the shaft how he liked. Glancing up at him, I leaned forward and licked the smooth head.
"Faster, girl, we don't have all day."
Sucking him into my mouth, I began to bob my head on his cock while my hand pumped the shaft in sync. I took a moment to let the head press against the back of my throat as his coarse pubic hair tickled my nose before slurping back up and swirling my tongue around the tip.
His thighs tightened as he slowly stiffened between my lips. Once he was fully erect, hot and throbbing against my tongue, I pulled my mouth off and caught my breath.
"Where do you want me?" I asked quietly.
