Author's Note: This story is the sequel to ‘The Wrong Movie', which I shall entitle ‘The Wrong Movie Ch.2', even though the movie theme has no application here. It makes things easier though, so I'll leave it be. Don't forget to leave comments. And to vote. There'll be more, obviously, though I'm not sure when. Hope you like it.
***
"Come on," Rachael panted. "Mom'll be home any minute."
Danny's only reply was to groan. They were both fully clothed, he sitting on the couch with his hands on her hips and she rubbing her ass vigorously against the bulge in his pants.
"Quickly," Rachael urged him, glancing nervously at the door. In actual fact, their mother was late; she should have been home ten minutes ago. What they were doing was dangerous, but Rachael liked hearing Danny cum. She rubbed his cock harder with her ass. "Cum, Danny, cum," she said, spurring him on. "Baby sis wants your cum."
Danny uttered a low moan and suddenly gripped her hips harder. She felt his cock spasm against her ass and closed her eyes with a smile. She rubbed her ass in circles, silently urging Danny to hold her closer. She liked it when he held her.
They finished in the nick of time, as they always did. Rachael leapt off her brother's lap as their mother's car pulled into the driveway outside. "And don't forget," she said, "we're gonna try oral tomorrow."
"I won't," said Danny with a smile. He pulled her forward by the hips and she bent down to kiss him once on the lips, her entire body tingling. "I love you," he said, and started to disappear. The weight of his hands vanished from Rachael's hips and the sight of his smile faded into black, and then she was rolling back and forth in bed, trying to cling to the dream. But it was hopeless.
Damn it, she thought, slapping the bed with her palms. She turned over to glare at the wall, her head pillowed on her hands. After five minutes, she realised she wasn't going to get back to sleep anytime soon, so she threw off her sheets and left her room.
She went downstairs first; got a glass of water and tried to watch TV. She came back upstairs after a few minutes, then went down again, then came up again. When she finally realised that both sleep and a night's worth of crappy infomercials were not going to happen, she made her way down the hall to Danny's room.
She stood nervously outside his door, biting her lip and wringing her hands together. It was past midnight now, and both her parents and her brother would be sleeping soundly in their beds, untroubled by sick and wonderful dreams. But Rachael was still thinking about what had happened the other night. Why hadn't Danny mentioned it since then? Wasn't he thinking about it too? Hadn't he liked it?
Rachael looked down at herself, took in her diaphanous nightgown and slender legs, and wondered if maybe he didn't find her attractive. Maybe having sex with her was just a thing of opportunity; they were both horny, and curious, and in the mood – maybe that's all it was. But no – that wasn't fair! It should be more than that. He should have told her how much he'd liked it and how good she made him feel. And he should have told her he loved her as well. Unless he didn't, and it was only her dream version of him that did, which still wasn't fair.
Rachael curled her hand into a fist and raised it to knock. She paused with her knuckles an inch from the wood, and started to fidget. She shifted her weight from one leg to the other and bit her lip harder. What if he told her to go away? What if he said "It didn't mean anything" and laughed at her for thinking it did? The image of Danny laughing at her and calling her a little girl sparked a fierce anger inside her. She lowered her hand and stormed back to her room, shutting the door and collapsing onto her bed. She kicked her heel down hard and glared at the ceiling.
***
The next day, at the breakfast table, Rachael sat spooning cereal into her mouth while she looked surreptitiously at her brother. She had her face lowered, so he wouldn't notice, but she raised her eyes whenever she could to see what he was doing. Which was nothing. Nothing apart from eating his cereal and reading the back of the cereal box.
I'm over
here,
dumby!
she thought at him, but he wouldn't look at her. Rachael sighed mentally.
Boys!
Their mother collected Danny's bowl when he had finished and took it to the dishwasher. "What've you kids got planned for today?" she asked.
Rachael opened her mouth to reply, but Danny beat her to it. "I'll be out most of the day," he said. "I'm playing tennis with Tim and Colin this morning and then I think we're meeting some others for a movie."
"What others?" Rachael asked, before she could stop herself.
Danny gave her a funny look. "Others," he said. "From my school."
Rachael looked unhappily down at her bowl and poked it with her spoon.
Others
, she thought dejectedly.
There'll probably be
girls
there. Hmph!
She took a long time eating her cereal, and when her mother finally asked if she was done, she said she didn't want it anymore. "Honestly, Rachael..."
She on the sofa with her arms folded tightly across her chest and watched TV while Danny bustled around getting ready. He didn't even say
two words
to her all morning!
What a bastard
. Now she knew why it was so annoying when a guy didn't call the next day. Did it make a difference just because he was her brother? No, of course it didn't. He should say something – tell her he had a great time and he's been thinking about her non-stop and he wants to spend the rest of his life with her. Rachael sighed and fell into a blissful reverie.
When she came back to reality, Danny was yelling a goodbye to their mother as he walked out the door.
Don't say goodbye to me or anything
, Rachael thought unhappily, and crossed her arms more tightly.
***
Her mother announced, in the afternoon, that she would be out shopping for a few hours, which left Rachael home alone. It was nice – having the house to herself – but she almost longed for the days when her parents had – embarrassingly – forced Danny to stay with her. She both wanted him here and didn't want him here, and she wasn't sure which she wanted more.
Her wanderings somehow brought her into Danny's room, where she now sat on the bed looking through the possessions on his bedside table. She found some loose change, some pens, a silver chain; nothing very interesting were it not for the fact that they were Danny's, and therefore special somehow. Rachael lay back on his bed and breathed in the smell on the sheets, which conjured memories of the other night, lying beneath the blanket with him, calling him a baby and guiding his throbbing cock to her pussy.
Rachael smiled as they daydream sank over her. When it faded, she looked down to see that she was absent-mindedly rubbing herself. Instead of suppressing her desires and kicking something in indignation, she crawled underneath Danny's sheets and, with his smell filling her head, slid her fingers inside her pussy.
"Yes, Danny," she moaned aloud. "Fuck me with your cock. I want it so bad. Put it in me and cum inside my pussy."
She squeezed her eyes shut, picturing it as clearly as she could. Her orgasm built fast, and soon she was arching her back and gasping into his pillow. "Yes, Danny. Yes!" She climaxed with his name on her tongue, imagining the cool touch of his sheets to be his lips and her fingers to be his cock. When her head cleared again, she felt only a renewed anger. "Bastard!" she said, and punched his pillow repeatedly. "Why won't you fuck me?"
***
Later that afternoon, just before her mother returned, Rachael raided the cupboards in the living room until she found a recent photo of her brother, then hid it in her room for later use. She felt wickedly dirty doing it, which only made it more pleasant.
The last thing she did was to search Danny's room for his diary, in the hopes that maybe he'd written something about her in it. But she couldn't find it, and didn't even know if he kept one, so she returned downstairs and helped her mother with the groceries.
The rest of the night was torture. Rachael ate dinner with her mother and father in complete silence, wondering if Danny was talking to any cute girls at the movies and whether they would ask him out. Shouldn't
she
be his first priority? She
did
have sex with him after all. Didn't that count for something?
She was still at the table long after her parents had finished eating, poking dispiritedly at her broccoli. She didn't hate it like a lot of teenagers did, but it didn't look particularly appetising right now. It was all green and small and uncocklike. Rachael looked down and saw her hand between her legs.
Damn it!
She threw out the rest of her food and went upstairs to take a shower, which proved to be a bad idea. She spent most of it sitting against the wall, probing her pussy as deep as she could and moaning Danny's name. But her fingers, like the broccoli, weren't very cocklike.
She felt a nasty thrill when she imagined kneeling in the shower and sucking on Danny's cock as the water ran over them both. She imagined him holding her head and telling her how good it felt, how incredible she was at it and how he never wanted her to stop. And she wouldn't; she would wrap her arms around his waist and suck him hard and tell him he could cum in her mouth if he wanted to. She sat back against the wall and imagined it squirting warmly inside her mouth, running over her tongue and down her throat. She made herself orgasm again, with that thought in her head.
After she'd hopped out of the shower and dried herself off, she stood in front of the mirror and looked at her reflection.
Maybe my breasts are too small
, she thought, cupping them in her hands.
Or I need to shave my pussy
. But she didn't really have much hair there to begin with, and they were just fine blonde ones.
I should stop wearing a bra
, she thought.
That would make him notice me. Wouldn't it?
When she left the bathroom she was as confused and miserable as she had been when she'd entered it. And just as horny too.
I want cooooock,
she thought despairingly, not caring if that made her a slut.
She said goodnight to her parents and turned in early, lying in her bed with her panties around her ankles. He was giving it to her again, holding her in his strong, muscular arms and whispering romantic things into her ear. The irony didn't escape her – that she had once teased him endlessly about his "puny muscles" and "piss-weak body". Now, he felt like the strongest, most muscular guy in all the world to her. And she
wanted
