The room was almost pitch black when I heard the door slowly open. My eyes cracked open as I looked to see who it was. My dear brother, John, silhouetted in the doorway, again.
Ever since I had moved back home after college, he had looked at me differently. At thirty-five, he was twelve years older than my twenty-three, and had always seemed more of a parent than anything else. Every night since I was born, he had checked on me as I slept. Now that I was home again, he had continued his ritual after he came home from work around midnight.
He had never done anything untoward in all those years, but now, it seemed different. He seemed different. I wanted to test my theory. Slowly, I moaned in my "sleep". Stretching my arm above my head, I felt the sheet slip lower down my body, sliding across my hard nipple and exposing my breast to his view. I heard something like a groan come from the doorway.
Keeping my arm above my head, my eyes closed, I let the fingers of my other hand slowly glide across my exposed nipple, causing it to harden even more. I moaned again and heard an answering groan come from my brother.
Letting my hand glide under the sheet, I let it follow a sensuous trail down to my wet puss. Bringing my other hand down, I played with my hardened nipple, pinching and twisting it, as I continued to rub my clit. Arching my back, I let the sheet drop lower, letting him see exactly what I was doing. My breathing became more erratic as I fingered myself, dipping two fingers into my soaking wet puss.
I heard his breaths come faster and knew he was touching himself too. I continued to pinch and squeeze my tits hard as I rubbed my clit faster and faster. Almost there....almost.....my fingers worked faster.. deeper... harder.. there... it ... was... "Ohhhh....Yessss...." I moaned. "Mmmm."
My fingers slowed their movements. Lingering touches. Slowing. Stopping.
I heard my door shut and knew my observer had left. I smiled to myself as I drifted off to sleep.
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The next morning, I woke early like always. Remembering the night before, I grinned and shook my head. I couldn't believe I had masturbated for my own brother. Or that I had gotten off so quickly, knowing he was watching me.
Oh, I had always thought he was one of the hottest guys I knew, being tall with those intense gorgeous grey-blue eyes, but he was my brother. It was forbidden. But maybe that was what I was drawn to.
Getting out of bed, I headed to my dresser, trying to decide what to wear. Form-fitting skinny jeans and a snug pink tank top with no bra. Perfect. Quickly running to the bathroom, I brushed my teeth and long auburn hair, then ran downstairs to fix breakfast for the two of us.
It was so quiet in the old farmhouse, but it had been that way for a long time. Our parents had died in a car accident eleven years before, when I was twelve and John was twenty-four. I smiled sadly as I remembered how I had clung to my brother. He was all I had left.
And I still couldn't believe I had played with myself in front of him. I had been so focused on what I was doing I don't even know if he had made himself cum while watching me. I frowned in concentration, trying to recall from the noises I had heard. I remembered him breathing heavily and groaning some, but I don't know if he had found release as I had.
Oh, I would have to remedy that. I wondered how far he would take it.
In the kitchen, I started making biscuits and gravy. I was a little nervous, wondering how John would act this morning. Maybe he felt guilty about the incident.
Half an hour later, I had the table set and had just pulled the biscuits out of the oven, when I heard John coming down the stairs. Thinking quickly, I pinched my nipples, making sure they stood out. John entered the kitchen. "Morning, Johnny."
Like every other morning, John came over and tousled my hair. "Morning, Shorty."
I playfully swatted at his hand and took off the apron I wore while cooking. Through my lashes, I watched his eyes zero in on my obviously unfettered breasts in my tight top. My nipples tingled as I watched the impressive bulge in his jeans harden. "Are you ready to eat my.... biscuits, John?" I asked huskily.
His eyes locked with my hazel ones. "Sounds delicious."
I carried the biscuits to the table, knowing his eyes were locked on my ass when I bent to place them in the center. I quickly sat down in my normal spot, wondering what I was doing teasing my own brother this way. It was stupid. What in the world was I thinking?
All during the meal, those thoughts ran through my head. Back and forth I argued with myself. John wouldn't do anything anyway. He was too much of a stickler for the rules. What was wrong with a little harmless flirtation?
Smiling slightly, I rubbed my bare foot against his jean-clad leg.
John's fork paused in its journey to his mouth and he glanced over at me. "What are you doing, little girl?"
I looked up at him as innocently as possible. "Nothing. My feet are cold."
"Put some socks on."
I put both my feet between his spread thighs under the table. "You're hotter."
He actually growled. I had made the man growl. "Why do you always do things you're not supposed to do?"
"When have I done anything I wasn't supposed to do, brother dear?" I asked with wide eyes.
"Tossed the neighbor's cat in the pond when. Just to see if cats really hated water. Took the truck for a joy ride. Went skinny dipping with Jeremiah Freeman. Skipped school to go shopping when. Barely made it to graduation because you were in the changing room making out with Jeremiah's sister, Sarah...."
"Ok..ok... enough already. I guess I do have a somewhat rebellious streak."
John chuckled. "Somewhat?"
