First off, thank you for reading, voting and commenting on my stories.
This is a four part series. I have all four parts written already, but will be waiting until each chapter gets approved before submitting the next chapter so that no chapters release out of order.
I hope you enjoy it.
All characters depicted having sex are over 18.
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My life has utterly and completely been upturned. But, before we get into all that, let me tell you about my life before these events. My name is Thomas Everett Gibson. I only mention my middle name because I go by Rhett. My dad's name was Thomas or Tom as he was often called and so, in order to differentiate between the two of us, I was called Rhett. (Also, my maternal granddad was named Everett, so again, the shortened name helped identify me from him.) I say was because my dad was killed in an accident when I was 6. This left my mom a single parent of three kids: me and my two sisters Stephanie and Cassandra.
Our mom did the best she could by herself. Sure, she had help from her family and in-laws (as well as the life insurance and payout for the accident), but it wasn't the same as having a partner to help her through everything that life throw at you. She has, for as long as I can remember, always worked two jobs. And has been exhausted every day. I think her work ethic, at least I always credit her, inspired me as I grew up.
My older sister recently moved back home. Stephanie really got the short end of the stick. Being the oldest, she had to grow up quicker than her younger siblings. At the beginning, our grandparents helped out as much as they could. But time moved on and, a few years later, Stephanie began watching us more frequently. This left her with little social life growing up. Tired of being the de facto babysitter to me and my younger sister, Stephanie had moved out at 18 with her, then, boyfriend. I can't say that I blamed her, but it sucked not having her there. Her boyfriend wasn't much help, either, relying on her to take care of the household chores. It took her four years to finally admit she was worse off than when she had moved out. Mom, of course, welcomed her back home with open arms. Having no degree and very few job prospects, and no social life to speak of, has left her rather depressed.
The youngest of the three of us, Cassie (Cassandra is only used by mom and only when she's in trouble), is a senior in high school and itching to graduate. Although, out of the three of us, is the one that loved her high school years the most. And why wouldn't she? Homecoming Queen, head cheer leader, lots of friends and, oddly, unattached romantically. She lived a fairly carefree life. Not to say she was ignorant of our plight or ungrateful that Stephanie and I had to help raise her (less so me since we were only two years apart). She just had more freedom to do what she wanted and no younger sibling to watch over. Whereas Stephanie had been burdened with too much responsibility and I, as the older brother, still had to watch over her.
By the time Stephanie had moved out, I was 14 (Cassie was 12). We didn't need as much supervision by this point, but I was responsible for making sure we both got to school on time and, when I got my license, carting her to and fro. I decided to start playing sports. I wanted to go out for football. My mom was worried about possible injuries and the overall cost of football was prohibitive for our finances, so instead I played soccer. Let me tell you something. Growing up in Texas and playing soccer rather than football was seen as sacrilegious. Since practices were after school, Cassie started cheerleading. Sadly, I was not good enough to get a scholarship for soccer, but I joined an intramural coed soccer group. I recently started my sophomore year at the college and hope to transfer to a university once I graduate. With my grades, I am hoping to move on to pursue a degree in biochemistry and then get a doctorate in pharmacology.
My mom was able to save quite a bit for each of us to attend college as did our grandparents, but the rising costs of higher education--and with three kids each wanting a stipend--required certain sacrifices. With my goal in mind, I knew getting a doctorate would take a hefty chunk out of my allocated funds. So I had opted to go to the community college and work part-time, despite getting most of these past two years paid for from various grants and scholarships. Saving as much as I could for my future educational endeavors. Like mom, I was oftentimes near exhausted from working and studying.
Near the beginning of my sophomore year, I began a chemistry project. In secret. I researched different over-the-counter drugs and would crush them up and mix them to try and find some kind of "pick-me-up" energy capsule. Nothing seemed to work. Until, on the rare occasion I actually went out, I ran into a guy who gave me a tablet at a party. Rather than take it then, I researched what this pill would do and decided to add it to my mixture. And, surprise, it worked. The only downside? It tasted vile! I washed it down with some sweet tea, which hid the taste.
I had enough energy from that one glass to last the entire weekend. I was stoked. I was able to find the guy on Monday to find out what it was he had, which he kept denying until I was able to convince him I wasn't going to rat him out, and if I could procure more. It took most of what I earned in a month to get enough, by my estimations, to last for the rest of the school year. I poured the mixture in empty coffee cans and stored them in my closet. I would make a gallon of sweet tea and my energy treatment. The jars were explicitly labeled "Rhett's" and no one ever drank from them.
Until one day.
As I walked in the house, I heard before I saw the rhythmic moaning and grunting of sex in perfect 5.1 stereo sound. When I registered what I was seeing on the TV, my eyes bugged out. On the living room's 75" LED TV a woman was getting fucked standing up by a man in front of her and a woman wearing a strap on dildo behind her in all of the 4K glory. The man had the woman's leg in his arm to show off his porn-star dick thrusting in her twat. The woman behind her was manhandling (woman-handling?) her massive tits while she plugged her ass with that silicone toy.
The next thing I noticed was that the moaning wasn't just coming from the TV. It was also coming from the couch in front of me. I hadn't noticed the person on the couch, since she (because I lived with a house full of women it had to be a she) was lying on her back. Her head was on the armrest, her left leg was draped over the back of the couch and her right leg was planted on the floor. That wasn't what my eyes were focused on, though.
I was mesmerized by her hands. One hand was groping and pulling and twisting her 34C breasts. The other hand was covering her mound with the fingers pistoning in and out of her pussy and her thumb making circular movements on her clit.
I stood there in awe and guilt as I watched my 24 year old gorgeous brunette sister masturbate to porn in the front room. Oblivious to my presence. I should go back outside and make more noise for her to hear me enter. I should walk to my room and let her have her privacy. I should do a million things other than what I did. All I did was stand and watch. The arousal evident by the front of my pants.
I couldn't help myself. I loosened the belt and unbuttoned my jeans. My hand slipped inside my pants and boxers and stroked my growing bulge. The sight of my sister unabashedly masturbating and the sounds coming from the TV spurred me on.
"Oh, God. So Good. Pound me. Pound my cunt. You fill me up so good. Fuck me. Fuck me harder. Fuuuuuuuck, Rhett!"
Wait, what the actual fuck? I looked at her face to see if she had in fact realized I was there, but her eyes were squeezed shut. Is she actually masturbating while fantasizing about me? As she came down from her orgasm, her eyes opened and our eyes met. I was finally able to look away, but too late.
"Oh fuck, fucky, fuckity fuckfuck. Cumming. Cumming on my brother's big cock. Fuckme Fuckme FUCK MEEEEE!" She lay still on the couch idly rubbing her mound. Her eyes blinked open, but had a post-orgasm glazed expression. She blinked a few times before she registered what she was seeing.
"Oh. Shit. Fuck. Rhett...what the fuck?" she wailed as she tried to cover up belatedly as she scrambled to hide herself behind those stupidly small decorative couch pillows that had been strewn on the floor.
I shielded my eyes with my free hand while trying to remove my hand from inside my pants. My coordination failed me as I tumbled to the floor extricating my hand from my dick. I heard rustling, but having fallen behind the couch I had no idea what she was doing.
Having straightening my attire, I finally stood back up with one hand over my eyes."Me?!? What'd I do? You were the one that...well, was doing...well THAT out here! How was I supposed to know you'd be doing...out here? Are you covered?"
"Yeah. You can open your eyes. I'm decent...ish. I'm sorry, I thought I'd have more time. You're never back here this early."
"Class got out early and I don't work today." I peeked between my fingers to see she had pulled on a robe and closed it, mostly. Seeing her somewhat modest, I dropped my hands to my side.
"Oh. Shit. Fuck! I'm sorry. I just thought...fuck..." She trailed off. I wondered why until I followed her focus. My boner hadn't subsided and was quite prominent in my jeans.
"Shit, I need to go...I should go...I'll be in my room." I started to turn and head to my room. Hoping, praying, I could get the image of my sister pleasuring herself out of my head. But who was I kidding, I was going to my room to whack off to my sister.
"Wait. Can we talk...about that? This?"
I slowly shook my head. Talk about what? My sister masturbating? My sister masturbates. I'm sure everyone, if they're being honest, does it. No big deal. My extremely rigid hard-on? It has a mind of its own. Ruled purely by my id. It was instinct. So what exactly did she want to talk about? This was my sister. I had no interest in hearing about her sex life, or lack thereof, or anything she had been doing when I walked in. I don't care that I had stopped and watched her do it. That was immaterial. Just about everyone stares at accidents or watching the police pull someone over on the side of the roads. This was no different.
"Please," she patted the cushion next to her. "I want to explain."
"You don't have to," I croaked. "I get it. We all do it. Maybe not as vocally or publicly, but we do. I'm sure even Cass and mom..." I shook my head as mentioning the other two members of our family made me wonder whether they actually did or not now manifested inside my head.
