The Real Mccoy

Author's Note: This is an entry to the

Literotica April Fools Story Contest 2025

. It's a comical twist on a well worn trope in the genre, so if that's not your vibe then best to give this one a miss.

--

"Our audience had become bored with watching actors give us phoney orgasms. They were tired of bukkakes and boob jobs.

While the world she inhabits is, in some respects, counterfeit, there's nothing fake about Molly herself. No scripts, no second takes. It isn't always Brazzers but it's genuine. It's a life.

It's all true, she's the real McCoy, nothing you see is fake.

It's merely controlled."

- The Director

--

Season Nineteen: Episode One

"We don't have another option, Molly. This is the only way..."

My Mom was frantically hurling clothes into her suitcase with the kind of panic normally reserved for mid-air emergencies. Ever since we lost my Dad in a terrible sailing accident she's been, to put it nicely, a worrier.

"I have to get the ferry to the mainland to be with your Grandpa," Mom explained, for the third time, "so I'm afraid Tim will have to go back to hospital until I get back. Or at least until the bandages come off his eyes."

"Tim hated the hospital," I said, calmly repacking Mom's suitcase, "we can't send him back already. He's only been home a week."

That's Tim for you. My little brother has an unnerving skill for picking up injuries that require lengthy periods in plaster casts. Arms, legs, neck, you name it he's hurt it.

"What else can we do?" Mom despaired, "he can't care for himself without the use of his hands or eyes. It would be different if your Dad was still here..."

A cloud passed over Mom. Her shoulders drooped and she stared sadly out of the window towards the ocean.

"What if I do it?" I suggested, hoping to distract Mom from the dark thoughts.

"That's a sweet offer, Mol'. But it's a big responsibility."

"It's the summer holidays. I've got nothing else on. I want to help!"

"You have cheerleader practice..."

"It's only a few hours a week. We can manage."

"It's not just that," Mom said, "it wouldn't be fair on either of you. There are...intimate tasks involved that aren't appropriate for a brother and sister."

"I'm a grown woman, mom. I can handle a little intimacy."

"It's not just that. But spoon-feeding him meals, helping him dress, keeping his body clean..."

"You've been doing it. Why is it any less weird for you?"

"I gave birth to him. It's different."

"Well, he's my brother. The only one I've got. So if the choice is sending Tim back to hospital or rolling up my sleeves and wiping his ass, well, I guess I'll just take that one for the team."

Mom stopped flapping and held me by my shoulders. Her eyes were shining with emotion. "That's sweet, Mol', but Tim can't see a thing. He could fall down the stairs. He could swallow bleach. He could get his

thing

stuck in the...the...the toaster."

"Why would he put it in the toaster?!"

"He's a young man! It's just too risky."

"We're both adults! If anything happens I can call you." I cupped Mom's face between my hands and smiled reassuringly. "You need to relax."

I sensed Mom soften and, right then, I knew I had her.

"Okay...if you really think you can handle the responsibility, I guess we could see if Tim would be alright with you taking care of him."

I pulled Mom into a hug. "We'll get through it, Mom. I promise. What's the worst that could happen?"

--

People are amazed we're related.

We're only two years apart but Tim is the complete opposite of me. I'm five-four, pale skin, blue eyes, with hair so fair it's almost white. A pocket-sized bundle of cuteness with full round breasts and a butt that gets its fair share of double takes thanks to a decade of cheer practice.

Slight of build, long of limb, my eighteen-year-old brother has all the grace of a baby giraffe. Not that any of that stopped my friends objectifying him.

"You know, that's my

brother

you're drooling over," I complained to Dani, my best friend, "not a piece of meat."

"Talking of meat...have you seen it?"

"Huh?"

"Y'know, is Captain Long-Limbs in proportion

down there

?"

"Ew! That's my brother, I don't even want to

think

about his...thing."

It wasn't that I was grossed out thinking about my little brother's penis. Not entirely. I just felt protective over him. He hadn't had an easy ride since Dad disappeared and his medical history read like a game of Operation. He was a sweetheart. One of life's good guys. He deserved a break.

But underneath all of that was something else. I was jealous. My little brother had always had a crush on Dani and, if I'm honest, I couldn't blame him. The cheer captain looked like a Playboy model. Legs for days. Defined abs. Killer tits. She had it all. But he was

my

brother and I wanted him to love me best.

"Why not? A cock is a cock. It doesn't matter

who

it belongs to," Dani said, popping the trunk of her car for me to load up my kit bag. "You must have seen it some time? You've never caught him jacking off?"

"Not everyone is as horny as you, Dani. I..."

A high-pitched whistle distracted me. I looked around for the source of the eerie whistle. It was loud and getting louder with each passing second, until, with a deafening crash, a large spherical object fell to the earth several yards from Dani's car.

"Holy shit!" I yelled, approaching the sea of shattered glass and tangled metal cautiously. I couldn't be sure - the object was truly ruined - but it looked like the remains of a stage light.

"Forget it, Molly," Dani said with surprising nonchalance, "we're already late."

I reluctantly backed away from the wreckage and climbed in the passenger seat. "Did you see that...that thing fall from the sky?"

"Probably fell off an airliner or something," Dani shrugged, "that's Seahaven for you..."

"...there's always something happening in Seahaven!" I finished.

--

For as long as I can remember, weird things have happened around our sleepy little island community.

Strange noises over the airwaves. People disappearing without explanation. Bizarre isolated weather patterns.

I've never been able to shake this strange sense of deja vu. You notice patterns everywhere you look in Seahaven. The same car at the same crossroad each morning. The same dog peeing on the same lamppost. Most people explain it as 'small town luck' but, me, I'm not so sure.

I waved as Mom boarded the mainland ferry and forced a smile despite the cold shiver up my spine. It wasn't the thought of caring for Tim that made me anxious. It was the ocean. Ever since Dad's sailing accident I've been deathly afraid of open water.

The house was quiet and still when I got back from dropping Mom. I was relieved to be free of Mom's anxious energy - her incessant fretting was more exhausting than the list of tasks she'd left behind. Top of the list was to help Tim get out of bed. I knocked gently on his door.

"Come in," he called.

"Hey kiddo, it's your new nurse."

Tim laughed. I had to admire his positivity. Poor kid had both arms immobilised in a Texas 'T' and his eyes covered in wrapping but still managed to see the funny side of things.

"I really appreciate this. The thought of going to hospital

again

..."

"Don't mention it," I said, "what are sisters for?"

"I mean it, Molly. I'll try not to be a burden."

"Please don't worry about it. Anything you need, just ask."

--

True to his word, Tim did his best to minimise my work and spent most of the day listening to podcasts on the couch. A couple of times I checked in on him, topping up his water bottle or spoon feeding him a snack, but for the most part he was surprisingly low maintenance.

"What did you expect, sis?" Tim asked as I cleaned up our dinner, "that I'd break something else?"

"You know what Mom's like. She put the fear in me. Right then, it's shower time. You're going to have to walk me through this."

"I'm probably okay tonight," Tim said with a note of embarrassment, "Mom washed me before she left."

"Don't be silly. It's hot out and, not to be indelicate or anything, you stink."

Tim laughed. "You're not like the last nurse."

"Better or worse?" I asked.

"Different...you could work a little on your bedside manner."

"Come on," I laughed, "show me how this works."

"I stand in the shower, just like normal, and hold my arms out the side."

"That sounds easy. So then I just lather you up and spray you down?"

"Basically, yeah. And help me get dry and dressed."

"How did Mom stay dry?"

"I don't really know. In case you hadn't noticed, I'm kinda blind right now. I guess she just sprayed the shower head away from herself."

"Okay then. Let's do it. Let's get you naked."

Tim laughed awkwardly. "Right."

Tim lifted his arms and bent at the waist so I could peel his t-shirt over his head. The next moment he was standing in front of me, topless, with a fresh glow in his cheeks.

"What?" Tim asked, sensing my awkwardness.

"Nuh...nothing."

But it wasn't nothing. I guess I'd taken my eye off the ball at some point because Tim wasn't the gangly teenager I remembered. He was a young man, broad shouldered and chiselled abs diving in a deep 'V' towards his waistband. Dani was right - my little brother

was

perfectly proportioned.

"Okay, pants next," I said, turning him so he faced away from me.

I loosened the drawstring of his pants and pulled them down to his ankles as matter-of-factly as I could. I squatted behind Tim, briefly admiring the definition of his muscular legs, and helped him step out of pants.

Tim was wearing loose briefs. No big deal, I thought, trying to remain calm. Just pull them down and...

My head was a few inches from my little brother's perfectly sculpted bum. I felt heat rising to my cheeks and, though I didn't want to admit it, between my thighs as he appraised his toned, firm cheeks.

"Umm...Molly?"

I quickly stood and busied myself with the practicalities of guiding my brother into the shower cubicle, trying (and failing) not to get distracted by his brawny arms and toned back.

"Okay, shower coming on."

I directed the shower head so it would run down Tim's back and turned on the tap.

"Fuck!" I yelped, as water splashed off my brother and down my front.

"Are you okay? What happened?"

"I'm fine," I sighed, "I just got a little wet."

I re-directed the shower head again to minimise the spray coming towards me and squeezed some shower gel into my hands. I hesitated before placing my soapy hands on Tim's back. This is just a job, I chastised myself, get on with it.

And with that, I began to lather up my little brother's back. It felt impressively solid and unyielding beneath my hands. I tried to be economic, hoping to convey my desire to be functional through my brusque touch.

"I'm going to do your legs now," I warned, before squatting behind my brother again.

I soaped up both of his legs, stopping at his mid-thigh for fear of venturing too close to anything hanging between his legs. I worked quickly, doing the bare minimum required to keep Tim fresh, and wondered briefly about my brother's ass. Was I supposed to wash that too?

"Is that good?" I asked hopefully.

"Er...yeah," Tim said, "that's fine."

I could tell he was disappointed with my efforts but was too polite, or embarrassed, to press the point.

I turned off the shower and guided Tim backwards out of the cubicle before wrapping a towel under his arms and around his torso. I ran my hands up and down Tim's body, rubbing towel and copping an accidental feel of his powerful chest, before taking up my position behind him as we negotiated getting him into his pyjamas.

"Good work, Molly."

"That wasn't so bad," I said, quietly proud of my efforts and at having preserved a modicum of dignity for my brother. "Need a hand getting to bed?"

"I can manage. Thanks for today. We might just make a nurse out of you yet."

I punched Tim gently in the ribs.

"Goodnight, kiddo."

I was glowing with pride at my efforts. The only downside had been that I'd managed to pretty well drench myself in the process. I made a note to try a different method the next night as I peeled off my soaked top.

As I drifted off to sleep, one image kept rising in my minds eye: my brother's surprisingly peachy butt. I felt a pang of guilt that I'd been too squeamish to wash his private areas. Mom must have done it. But how?

Tomorrow I'd work it out, I told myself, tomorrow I'd do better.

--

Season Nineteen. Episode Two.

It was hot the next day. Unseasonably so for this time of year in Seahaven.

I was frazzled and tired and my arms ached from the weight of the shopping bags so I didn't notice the homeless man until he was toe-to-toe with me.

"Sorry," I mumbled, stepping aside to let the vagrant pass.

But the bedraggled hobo matched my movement and, to my horror, placed his hand ever-so gently on my cheek.

I studied the man properly. He was middle aged, not unattractive, and more well-fed than the average vagrant. Not that I had actually MET any vagrants in Seahaven, come to think of it. But I'd seen films.

His skin was weathered but in a rugged way, almost handsome, and his sky-blue eyes twinkled with mirth. I was transfixed by those eyes - they seemed so familiar.

"Molly..."

Suddenly a businessman and a policewoman grabbed the vagrant under each arm and lifted him off the sidewalk, whisking the bewildered vagrant away from me.

"S...stop!" I shouted, beginning to give chase.

The sidewalk suddenly seemed full of pedestrians. Commuters and shoppers closed ranks in front of the trio as the swiftly put distance between themselves and me.

"Outta the way! Excuse me!"

But it was no use. I broke through the crowd in time to see the businessman and policewoman bundle the vagrant into the back of a van. The doors slammed shut and the van high-tailed it with a screech of burning rubber.

--

"I don't know about you but I'm feeling kinda sticky," Tim said after dinner, "Mind if we take a shower?"

I hadn't been putting it off, not exactly. I just hadn't brought up the topic in the hope that maybe Tim wouldn't want a shower that night.

My head was still reeling from the weird encounter in town. The vagrant had looked

so

familiar.

But there was something else.

All day I'd been having flashbacks of my little brother's peachy butt and chiselled back. It wasn't that I didn't

want

to wash him.

I was worried that I wanted to wash him too much.

"Sure," I said, half-heartedly.

Tim seemed to sense my hesitation. "We don't have to..."

Get a grip, I thought, he's your brother and he needs you.

"Let's do it," I said with more enthusiasm, "it's no trouble."

We repeated the process from the previous night, easing Tim out of his clothes before guiding him into the cubicle. I was about to turn on the shower when I remembered how wet my clothes had got the previous night.

"All good back there?" Tim asked.

"Uhuh," I said, peeling my top over my head and shimmying out of my pleated cheerleading skirt.

What's the harm, I reasoned, Tim has seen me in a bikini before and my underwear is no different. Besides, it's not like he can even

see

me.

"You know, you've really filled out nicely this last year," I commented, soaping up Tim's back.

"You think?"

"Sure!" I slapped Tim playfully on his pert bottom, "I wish

my

ass was as firm as yours!"

Tim laughed. "Shut up. You've got an incredible butt."

"You've been checking out my butt, huh?"

"No...I mean...umm..."

"Relax," I laughed, "I'm only playing with you. It's nice to know

somebody

is appreciating it."

With the tension broken I decided to bite the bullet and fulfil my pledge from the previous night. I scooped a handful of bubbles from Tim's lower back into my palm and, in one quick flourish, began soaping his firm cheeks.

I felt sort of breathless, watching my hands with a sense of detachment as they circled Tim's muscular butt, delving between them, and even brushing against the puckered hole at their centre.

Tim flinched away from me at the unexpected sensation of my thumb brushed across his asshole. Time seemed to slow as his right foot slipped from under him, he teetered off balance, and tipped towards me.

"Tim!" I yelped, too late, as he tumbled on top of me and we toppled backwards out of the shower.

"Oww..."

"Shit, Tim, are you okay?" I asked as I attempted to wriggle out from beneath my brother.

"I don't think anything is broken. Anything

else

, I mean."

"Just try not to move, okay?"

"Umm...Molly?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you...are you wearing anything?"

It was only then that I appreciated the intimacy of the situation. My brother's wet, naked body was pressed up against mine. Only my bra and panties provided any separation.

"I, uh, took off my top and skirt. I didn't want to get wet again. Is that...is that okay?"

"Um, yeah, that, uh makes sense. Can you get me a towel?"

"Lemme just get up," I said, carefully extracting myself from beneath Tim so as not to hurt his injured arms.

"Molly...wait!"

Jutting out obscenely from my brother's waist was the most enormous cock I had ever seen. It was rock hard and pointing right at me.

I gawped at the magnificent spear of flesh until it slowly dawned on me that I couldn't just leave my little brother on the floor. He'd be there all night unless I helped him.

"I...I'm gunna help you up now. Okay?"

"I...I can manage." Tim said, with obvious embarrassment at his state.

"Don't be ridiculous," I said, stepping either side of Tim's waist. His huge cock was pointing directly up between my legs, almost up to my knees. Just my luck, I thought, to be related to the most hung guy in Seahaven. It was so fucking huge I wondered how it would even fit inside someone.

That's a lie.

I wondered how it would fit in

me

.

I managed to suppress that intrusive thought long enough to hook my arms beneath Tim's and hoisted him upright. Then the thought became impossible to ignore - as I lifted Tim to his feet his ginormous cock hit my navel and slipped up the length of my stomach before coming to rest just beneath my bra.

"Jesus..." I whispered under my breath.

"Um...Molly? Towel?"

Snapping out of my cock-trance, I wrapped a towel around Tim and used a second to dry his upper body and back so I wouldn't have to reveal his freakish appendage again.

My head was racing with a hundred questions. Why was he so hard? Were they normally that big? Did it hurt? When did he last...

That's when it hit me. With both his arms out of action, my little brother can't have relieved himself in weeks. No wonder the mere touch of a woman caused it to swell.

The tension was palpable as I towelled Tim down in silence.

"Don't...don't worry about my pyjamas," Tim stuttered, "I'll sleep in my towel tonight."

I led Tim to his bedroom and hovered in the doorway as he shuffled over to his bed.

"Got everything you need?"

"Nuh-uh," Tim said, swinging his legs up onto the bed.

"Well, night."

"Goodnight Molly."

But I didn't leave, not right away. I lingered there in the doorway, hardly breathing, willing myself to be silent in the hope Tim would wiggle out of that towel and give me another glimpse of that huge, perfect...

"Molly?"

Busted.

Tim turned his sightless eyes towards the doorway.