It’s eleven o’clock at night, everyone else is asleep, and I’m lying in bed playing stupid games on my dumb phone. It’s been a long day.
I only started playing Super Run and Jump Man Funny 3D Game Free to distract myself from my thoughts, but it isn’t working very well. Things are just moving so fast… I mean, was it really only yesterday that I finally admitted my true feelings for Dion? Sure, it’s been bubbling away within me for years, but after that game of truth or dare, how he touched me, how he looked at me…
I make the little man on my phone jump over some spikes. I get some gold coins.
And then that same night, I actually got into his bed! And we talked, and we truth’ed and dared some more… we nearly held hands, and I felt his… oh screw it, Ashley, no need to be coy–You felt his big hard brother dick through his pants, resting right against your pussy. Just for a second, but it was long enough to know–to hope, anyway–that he felt the same way as me.
Or you’re just deluding yourself.
The little man gets hit by a helicopter and dies. Do I want to watch an add to continue?
I close the app, start another one.
The morning after, he caught me masturbating. Or at least, the aftermath of falling asleep trying to get myself off. Naked, wet, frustrated… but he didn’t try anything. He just left.
See? He was grossed out.
Then he bought me that notebook. The one on my bedside table right now, that I hugged close and smelled just before turning out the lights like some kind of lovestruck schoolgirl. It was such a personal gift… not the kind of thing you’d get your sister. The kind of thing you’d get your girlfriend.
But then he saw Sophie.
I’m dressing up a digital doll now, choosing between a pink frilly dress and… a slightly different pink frilly dress. Why do I still have this game?
Your brother met Sophie, and immediately fell in love with her, and now she’s all he cares about and he’ll never want to be with you again.
He kissed me, when we got back home. We argued, and I dared him to kiss me, and he did. And it was so good…
And then he dared Sophie to kiss him.
I decide on an outfit and move to choosing some dance moves for my avatar to perform.
In retrospect, I guess it was kind of obvious that Ashley was flirting with me, not Dion. The looks she was giving me, the leading questions, the whole bikini thing… I was just so defensive of my brother that I couldn’t see it. Although neither could Dion, for that matter–in fact, I’m pretty sure he still doesn’t realise. He didn’t see her kiss me, after all.
And then you told her you about your feelings for Dion, and she went all quiet until she could make an excuse to drive you both home and leave it at that. Because what you want to do is wrong.
The avatar starts dancing on screen. I’m supposed to tap along with the beat, but even though I’ve got it muted, I know the song by heart.
Dion was confused by the sudden goodbye. Worried, I guess, or sad he didn’t get to do more with Sophie. Even when dad came home and told us we’d both get to finally meet his new girlfriend tomorrow, Dion could barely muster up a congratulations and a few back slaps. It was a quiet dinner, and then everyone went to bed.
He probably thinks you ruined it for him.
I get a high score, and a whole lot of gems. Now I can buy even more pink frilly dresses and dance moves and songs to use them in. I remember why I like this game; everything has a simple, logical order. Dress, dance, shop. It’s like preparing a meal–if you follow the instructions to the word, it’ll always turn out fine.
And how did this all turn out?
I sigh, turn off my phone, and lie there as the ghostly shape of my phone screen fades from my pupils.
I’d hoped to be in Dion’s room again. We could’ve played another game, taken it further. Maybe we would’ve even kissed again. But as much as I want to go in there, I know it’s hopeless. Whatever we could’ve had… there’s not much chance of getting it back.
The room lights up. I shield my bleary eyes from it, see that it’s emanating from my phone. What time is it?
Through my eyelashes I can see it’s just past twelve. Was I asleep? Maybe just snoozing.
I almost don’t check it. It could just be an email, or a drunken text from one of my friends, or a spam message telling me my bank accounts been hacked. But something tells me to pick it up, so I turn the brightness way down and read the message.
u awake?
It’s Dion. I huff.
Nope
I put the phone back on the table, face down.
Three minutes later I pick it back up.
ur asleep? , he’s written.
Yes, I’m asleep
I put it back down again. Face up this time.
When it lights again it’s in my hand in a second.
I guess u dont have a sec to come in here thn?
I purse my lips. What did I just promise myself? That I wouldn’t go in there? That it was hopeless?
But then, what was I also just saying about recipes… That they make life simple, easy, trouble free. That you’ve just got to follow the rules, do it normally, and everything will turn out okay.
But that’s how you end up with Albert’s Bushtucker Special. Sure, it smelled nice, but so did everything else. What would really make it special would be adding mereny, pindak and yams Because then it’d be mine, and it’d be unique, and exciting, and not culturally appropriative, and wouldn’t warp tourists’ perception of Noongar culture and…
Wait, what was my point again? I can’t remember, but I’m pretty sure it was a good one. So…
I get up and go to my stupid brother’s room.
He’s got his blinds fully closed tonight. Little orange strips still glow between the gaps, but not enough to spill into the room, so I have to gingerly feel my way in hoping I don’t knock anything over. He’s on the near side of the bed again, so I hitch a leg over him and roll quietly over his body, and slip under the sheet.
“I knew you couldn’t resist me,” he whispers.
“I can leave?”
He grabs my arm. “Ah, no, I take it back. Please stay.”
We lie there quietly for a while. Somewhere outside, a car rolls by, and the orange strips between the blinds briefly shine yellow.
“So…” he starts, in a barely audible whisper. “Busy day.”
“Mmn hm.”
His grip on my arm loosens. “Look, about Sophie… I’m sorry if I was a bit, you know…”
I tilt my head and give him a look, then realise we can’t actually see each other so make a sort of questioning noise instead.
He sighs. “I just thought that… like… we’re not related.”
“We’re not?”
“Me and Sophie, I mean. So if we… I don’t know, got–” his voice dips lower and I can’t make out what he’s saying, but I know I wouldn’t like it anyway. “…and so it wouldn’t be… wrong. Like it is when… we do stuff.” He clears his throat lightly. “Does that make sense?”
I purse my lips. It does, really. I can’t be mad at him wanting some sort of normality… but I can be mad for him being a bit of a dick about it. “You should have told me.”
“I didn’t think she was interested in me, until she started flirting. And–”
I sit up on my elbows and turn to him, and the sudden motion cuts him off. I wish I could see his expression right now, because I can’t tell if he’s joking. “Flirting with you?”
“Yeah. Until you two went off to talk, anyway. And then she got a bit weird and decided it was time to leave. I guess you didn’t exactly put in a good word for me…”
I’m speechless, and I suppose he takes my silence for confirmation because he squeezes my arm.
“But it’s fine, because I’ve had time to think about it, and… I was wrong. I think some part of me was just attempting a last ditch effort to get interested in someone that isn’t a blood relation, and Sophie’s cute, and she was interested, so I just… went with it. But I shouldn’t have, because you’re cuter, and nicer… I guess I lo–”
“Dion, she wasn’t flirting with you.”
A pause, then, “huh? She wasn’t flirting?”
I sneakily take the high ground, despite the fact that I had thought she was flirting with him too. Either we’re both terrible and reading signals, or Sophie wasn’t very good at dropping hints. “She was flirting, just… not with you.”
“Oh? But… but who…? Oh. Oh. Wait, seriously?” His hand leaves my arm, and I hope it’s just out of surprise. “How do you know?”
“She told me so. And… she kissed me. On the lips and everything.”
“Jeez, okay… wow. What, and you rebuffed her? Is that why she drove us back straight after?”
I breathe in through my teeth. “Actually, I sort of kissed her back. It was something else that spooked her…”
“…Ash?” His voice hitches. “What did you say?”
“I… told her about us.”
“Oh god.” I hear a gentle slap as his hands hit his face. “What the hell? That’s… but you can’t just… shit.”
It’s the first time in a long while I’ve heard him swear. I huff and fold my arms, which has the added effect of shoving my elbow into his side. “Well, so what? Was I lying?”
“I mean… what exactly did you say?”
My heart starts beating a little faster. “I told her I was into you. Like… girlfriend boyfriend kinda thing. And I thought you were too.”
“You said that?”
“Yeah. Plus I told her you fingered me, and I liked it. A lot.”
“What!?”
“Shush!”
“I didn’t finger you!” He hisses.
“Then what do you call rubbing my pussy with your finger?” I hiss back.
“I was… being helpful. With your whole shaving–Wait, you really liked it that much?”
“Of course I did. I’ve fantasised about you doing that for years.” I hesitate, then add, “Or whatever,” to make myself seem cool and aloof.
“Shit…” he says again. He’s becoming quite profane.
“So?” I repeat, “Answer my question. When I told her all that, was it… true?”
“I… um…”
“Ugh, fine. Truth or dare?” I turn onto one side, facing him squarely while still leaning on one elbow. I can just make out the glint of his eyes looking back at me. “Truth, did you say? Cool, good choice. Dion, are you attracted to me? Do you get… turned on by me, and want to have sex probably one day even though it’s totally illegal, and… more than that, do you… do you properly love me? Like, more than a brother… like, you’d want to date me if it was somehow possible? And… yeah?’
I stop adding questions before I accidentally propose or something. I watch Dion’s eyes, trying to make out his expression. He’s quiet for a long while. I’m expecting a wisecrack, something like “that’s three truths” or–
“Yes.”
I realise I’ve been bracing myself, waiting for him to finally say no, to tell me it’s over, but… but he didn’t, and I guess I don’t need to brace myself for that anymore, and I fall back onto the bed in relief.
I move my hand out, looking for his, and we meet in the middle. I guess he was doing the same thing. “Okay… cool,” I say. “Me too.”
“Cool.”
We squeeze hands. I think about how life’s going to be different now, and that constant, niggling part of me tells me it’s going to be worse, harder, impossible, but I push it back and tell myself to just live in the now.
“Truth or dare?” He whispers.
“Dare.”
He squeezes me hand once more, then sits up. “Let’s take a walk.”
Contrary to what our dynamic may seem, it’s me, not Dion, who’s a stickler for the rules. I’ve never had an issue with voicing my distaste for them, if I think they’re silly (why exactly wasn’t I allowed to play around on my laptop during class once I finished my schoolwork? Who decided we couldn’t sit down while working checkouts at Woolworths?) but actually breaking those rules I have a lot more trouble it.
“It literally says we can’t, Dion,” I’m saying as I point to the sign at the top of the sandy incline. “Read it. ‘No use after ten p.m.'”
“So?” He shrugs and checks his wrist. “It’s, what, eleven? So it’s barely an infraction.”
“It’s past twelve, Dion. You’re not even wearing a watch! We could get in serious trouble if someone caught us.”
“I think there’s other things we’re doing that I’m more concerned about not getting caught for.” He wraps an arm around the small of my back and pulls me into him, and I gasp and go to push him away but then his other hand is behind my head and he kisses me. And it feels so good that I forget everything for a second.
I grunt when he pulls off and pats my cheek, and smarmily says, “Take my point?”
“H-hey,” I growl. “That’s… you’re influencing me. With your… mouth.” And when he wiggles his eyebrows and traipses down the ramp, I can’t do anything but jog after him.
There’s not much of a moon out tonight, and the promenade lights only barely spill onto the sand, leaving much of it in a cooling darkness. It’s past here that Dion leads me, and I have to admit it’s a lovely experience. The evening beach is calm, quiet, perhaps a bit lonely. And very… blue, but in a sort of serene way.
“Truth or dare?” Dion asks, looking ahead. I can see him a lot better than I could in his room, but it’s still hard to fully make out his expression.
“Truth, I guess.”
“How are you feeling?”
I grin, skip forward a bit to catch up with him. “Good. Happy. Relieved.”
“Told you it’d be nice out here.”
I shove him. “I meant us, not the beach, nookang. I’m still mad you’re making me break the rules.”
“You can go back any time.”
I huff. “Your turn.”
“Dare.”
“I dare you–”
“If you say ‘dunk your head in the water’ I swear to god I’m dragging you in with me.”
I stop. After a moment, he stops too. There’s a glint in his eye when he looks back. “You wouldn’t…”
“I would.”
He’s squinting a little bit, like he does when he’s considering something. I run my tongue over my teeth, then draw a bit of hair into my mouth and chew it. Our impasse lasts a few more seconds, neither of us backing down. So I say, “I dare you to try. But be warned, I’ve–”
He lunges and I squeal and dart to the side. We’ve roughhoused before, when we were young, and I pretty much always won. But it’s been a long time since we’ve wrestled, and Dion’s grown. A lot. So when he darts around and tackles me I’m taken completely by surprise. While my arms flail uselessly, his momentum sends us both skidding toward the water, and it takes everything I have to dig my heels into the wet sand and push back.
“Damn,” he grins. “I was hoping that’d do it.”
“You’re… not even, rrghg… close,” I growl, though my straining voice doesn’t exactly inspire confidence. My side, and the long, thin cut I got from the rock capers, is burning, but I ignore it and try and push forward more. Yet despite his gangly build, Dion’s height makes moving him even one step impossible. I’ll have to be clever.
“Alright, enough fooling around,” he says, and lifts a leg up to readjust his position for a final push. I take the opportunity and turn sideways, spinning him around on his one leg so that now his back is to the ocean.
“Yeah, enough… fooling around!” I triumphantly say, and go for an almighty push…
And he just lets me. I yelp as we both fall down, and he shimmies out of the way so I land flat on the sand. “Ouch. Hey! Get back here.” I grab his pyjama shorts as he stands and they half slide down, and he tries to grab them but I persist, gripping the other side.
“Hey, woah, careful Ash,” he says. “You don’t wanna do that.”
“Oh yes I do!” I cry, and give another almighty tug. He turns to me, about to plead, when the hand holding his own waistband slips and his shorts slide right down–revealing his completely naked lower half.
And of course, along with his shorts I go, falling down face-first into his groin. My nose hits something soft, and my chin hits something softer.
Dion grunts in a mixture of pain and surprise as we both continue to topple down, my face apparently attached to his pelvis. He grunts again when we land.
“Unff,” I say, muffled by his balls.
“Ow,” he replies.
A moment passes as we both try to comprehend the situation. Another moment and we’re both scrambling away from each other.
“Sorry!” I say. “I didn’t mean to… headbutt your, uh…”
He’s trying to pull up his shorts and cover his dick at the same time. He isn’t particularly successful with either. “It’s… okay. It was more of a chinbutt. Ooh man, that hurt though.”
“Sorry,” I say again. I should probably be looking away, but… his dick is right there. And I can’t help but get an eyeful. I wonder if this is how Dion felt when I was naked that one time. Or the other time. Or the… other time. Jeez, am I a pervert?
“I guess the tables have turned, at least,” he mumbles, apparently having given up on pulling his shorts up and now just covers himself with both hands.
“Yeah. Um… so does this mean you lost the dare? I’m still pretty dry,” I tease him. Although the latter statement isn’t entirely true… not that I’m going to tell him that.
“I… guess?” he says. I notice his mouth twitch, and his hands shift position outward, as if the thing they’re covering is getting bigger.
“Alright, new rule,” I declare. “If you lose a dare… you’ve gotta do another one.”
“Ash…”
“And I dare you to move your hands.”
” Ash. I’m…” He licks his lips. “I’m kinda… hard.”
My heart flutters. Why did that sound romantic? “Good,” I decide. “Move your hands.”
He looks at me for a few seconds more, and then finally…
I try to conjure an appropriate description for the penis in front of me. Videos aside, I’ve read my fair share of erotic literature, and dicks in there always sound so… violent. Everything is ‘throbbing’ angrily, or ‘flushed red with lust’, or ‘imposingly’ erect, or… tumescent.
But Dion’s dick. It’s… pretty. Smooth, pleasant to look at. Perhaps because this is real life, it isn’t this ginormous focal point dripping with precum and looming above me like I’m used to in porn. It’s just… part of him.
“Well?” he asks quietly, and I cock an eyebrow.
“Well what?”
“Is it… okay?”
We both look down at his penis. It’s not fully hard, actually. Sitting back as he is, legs partially spread, it’s resting against his left thigh. Though it twitches cutely every now and then, it has this feeling of being… dormant. Not in the sense of a sleeping dragon, more like a cute fox snoozing in a forest.
“Ash?”
“Hm? Foxes?” I glance up, see Dion’s confused expression, and wave a hand. “Sorry, lots of thoughts whirling around. Um… what was your question?”
He’s looking a little frustrated. “Am I, like… does it look okay?”
I guess men have some insecurities too. I lean forward, peering closer at him, amazed that I’m even being allowed to do this. I have no idea how he measures up in the grand scheme of males, especially since my only frame of reference is gay porn, but I don’t think I’d him to be any bigger. Perhaps it’s the fact that he’s shaved, which seems to make him look longer, but I estimate I could wrap both my hands around him and honestly that’s a little bit scary. Because it’s meant to… fit in me, and I can only manage three fingers after a warmup.
His balls are squeezed together between his thighs, which gives them a shiny, slightly inflated look. I feel the strongest urge to just… play with them. They seem soft and fun. He isn’t circumcised either, and I think I prefer it that way. I’ve never understood that whole thing.
I lean back and smile at my brother. “You’ve got a nice dick.”
That seems to relieve him, and with newfound confidence he sits back too, without covering himself this time. He looks a bit silly with his shorts still around his ankles, but I’d prefer this over him pulling them back up.
“Your turn,” he says. “Truth or dare.”
“Dare.”
“Take off your shirt.”
“Just my shirt?”
“It’s the only part of you I haven’t seen yet.”
I blush, but acquiesce and start removing my top, pulling it first over my stomach, and then over my forearms, and finally my chest. My shirt’s over my head when I hear him sigh.
“Woah. Nice.”
I wriggle out of my top and place it awkwardly on the sand between us. I can feel my small breasts jiggle a bit with the motion, and try for a moment to squeeze my arms together against them before realising it’s not doing anything and I just look like I’ve got spine problems. So I sit back and fiddle with the hem of my discarded shirt. “Well?” I ask.
“They’re cute. I mean, that bikini of Sophie’s didn’t leave a whole lot to the imagination, but…” he hesitates, then asks, “are you cold or something?”
I furrow my brow and look down, see my nipples erect under the gentle moonlight. “No. I’m…” I clear my throat, then say, quieter, “Just turned on…”
He grins. “Nice. Me too.”
“I can see that.” His dick his hard now, fully so. It’s still leaning to the left ever so slightly, but it’s a lot more… stately. Proud. It’s lost some of its cuteness too, with a semi-prominent vein running along its top and the foreskin pulled back a bit to show a shiny tip. Still, it looks friendly enough.
“Truth or dare?” I ask.
“Dare.”
“Show me how you… you know. Masturbate.”
“It’s not that interesting…” He sits back a little more and pulls one leg out the way, then grips his shaft near the base and slowly starts stroking himself. Up and down… the way his skin moves is almost mesmerising, and with each upward movement his balls tighten before giving a little jiggle when he pulls back down. I watch with intrigue, and that seems to embolden my brother because he speeds up. There’s the gentle sound of flesh slapping against itself that sends tingles down my back, possibly because it conjures up an image of Dion’s balls slapping against my thighs instead.
He brings in his other hand, covering his balls and then lightly squeezing and kneading them. I adjust my position slightly and he seems to realise I can’t see, because a moment later he opens up his fingers so I can see him rolling his balls about his palm. They really do look fun.
“Alright, enough of that.” He gives his dick one last long stroke before getting into a more comfortable position and looking me in the eye. “Truth or dare?”
“Dare.”
He watches me curiously, as if trying to read my thoughts. “I dare you to… do what I just did.”
I pause. He’s asking me to touch his cock… his big, brotherly cock… and that’s a lot more than just watching. But then, he’s already touched my pussy, and–
And that’s not good either. You should stop this.
Shut up, inner conscience, I’m gonna touch it.
I shuffle forward on my knees, between his legs. He angles his hips down a bit, so that he’s pointing toward me, and I hold my hand near it. This close, he really does look quite big…
I carefully curl my fingers around his middle, and the first thing I feel is his warmth. My brother’s cock is like a furnace, even in the warm night air, hotter on top where the thicker vein runs. He lets out a long, slow breath as I just keep my hand there for a while, feeling him. It’s so much different to that first–and only–time with Brandon. I don’t think I even touched his dick with my hand, I just lay there while he put it in. This… it’s so much more intimate. My whole body is tingling just from holding him.
“I can feel your heartbeat”, I murmur, and gently squeeze him. Despite his hardness, he’s still… supple, which I like. There’s just enough give in it that it doesn’t feel like some kind of tool. I give it another squeeze.
“Ahh, um… not so hard,” he chuckles.
“Sorry. Is this better?” I loosen my grip a bit, and he nods. Smiling to myself, I begin sliding my hand up, and the skin moves with me. I vaguely wonder if this would be better with lube–I hardly want to chafe him–but figure he’s probably alright for now. When I reach the top, I give his head a gentle squeeze. It’s firmer than the rest of him, and slightly sticky with a bit of slick liquid, and he seems to like that quite a bit because he moans.
“Ah, that’s nice…”
I’m proud that I’m doing a good job, and stroke back down towards his balls. Though it seems I’ve gotten a bit confident, because he quickly touches my hand and stops me in my tracks.
“Not so far though, or it hurts…”
I realise I’m pulling his foreskin back from his cockhead a bit far, and ease up my grip again. Still a bit of learning to do, I guess. With a much lighter hold, I travel down to his balls and gently squeeze them, and yep–they’re just as fun as I’d hoped. I grin and roll them around in my palm.
He tilts his head. “You like those?”
“They’re cute.”
“Oh.” He sounds a bit disappointed. I guess he was hoping for a mightier adjective, but I’m sticking with ‘cute’ because that’s what they are. I play with them for a few more seconds before reluctantly letting go and sitting back.
“Truth or dare.”
“Truth.”
“What? Come on…” I pout, but he just shrugs, so I roll my eyes and try to think of a question. “Um… have you ever thought about me when you’ve… you know.”
He grins. “I think we’re past the point of innuendos.”
“Fine. When you masturbate, do you ever think of me?”
He nods.
“How long for?”
“Uh… longer than I’m going to admit to you. But it was always just fantasy, you know? I never thought we’d…” He trails off, a distant look in his eye, then murmurs, “Truth or dare?”
“Dare.”
He regards me curiously, squinting his eyes in that way he does. He glances down at my bare chest once, and then further to my pyjama shorts, before finally resting on his own dick. I wonder what he’s about to dare me to do. Get naked? Let him touch my tits? Suck his cock? Honestly at this point, I’d do anything…
“Kiss me,” he says. “Like a girlfriend.”
I feel a warmth in my chest. Not of lust–that’s already there–but of love, like when he confessed his feelings for me, or when he gave me that notebook, or when we were laying in bed together last night, hands so close to touching…
I hold out my hand, and he takes it. His is warm, a little sweaty, and as always comfortingly bigger than mine. He pulls me toward him again, and I shuffle back between his legs and hitch them around his, so that I’m sitting in his lap. His cock settles right over my pussy, albeit with my pyjama pants between us, though even still I can feel his warmth. I wonder if he can feel my wetness…
Sitting in the position he is, for once I get to be taller than him. There’s something quite novel about looking down at him, his deep, brown eyes looking back at me with a mix of trepidation and excitement. I lean in, lips puckered, and then…
Pull away. “I gotta be honest, I have no idea how to kiss,” I admit.
He blinks. “I mean, you did fine this afternoon.”
Oh yeah, when you threw a tantrum because you thought he was flirting with Sophie.
“That doesn’t count, plus you were doing all the work.”
“Alright, well… just show me what you can do.”
I huff, straighten my shoulders to boost my confidence, then lean in and close my eyes. My aim’s slightly off, so I have to twist my head and end up bumping his nose with mine. We both giggle into each other, and the vibration of his breath makes me shiver.
Our kiss is clumsy, short and a little dry. I’m not sure what to do with my tongue, so just keep it out of the way, and I jump in surprise when his lips part and his own tongue touches my lower lip. It tastes… sweet, but also slightly metallic.
“Right,” I say after I lean back. “Was that good?”
He hesitates, then says, “Yep.”
I frown. “You’re lying.”
“Hey, for your first time, it was awesome. Here, just… come back, and follow my lead.”
We keep our eyes open this time. It’s hard to focus properly when he’s that close, so I just let my eyes relax, and watch the vague chocolatey hue of his irises glitter in the few rays of moonlight that pierce through my hair.
He’s a good kisser. Very good. He doesn’t align our lips, instead having the middle of his at my top and bottom lip alternatively. He sort of… sucks on each, drawing it gently into his mouth and even once nibbling on me, which sends a buzz of electric desire through my body.
His breathing changes too. Each time he switches lips, he lets out an adorable little huff of air, warming my mouth as if in preparation for the next kiss. I’m in heaven the whole time, entirely able to just let him lead and reap the benefits.
“God damn,” I gasp when he finally pulls away. “Where’d you learn to do that?”
He shrugs, and I grin broadly and lick my lips.
“Blake?”
“Gay guys know how to kiss, what can I say. But do you really want me… talking about that?”
“I told you, I reckon it’s hot. Plus, if he made you that good of a kisser, I can only thank him.”
“We can try adding tongue next time, too. You’ll like that.”
I stare at him. “It gets better!? Ugh, why didn’t we do this sooner?” I put my hand on his chest and rock my hips in excitement, and feel his cock jump against me. I look down at it with amusement. “Truth or dare?”
“Dare.”
I push on his chest with my hand, forcing him back. “I dare you to lie back.”
As he’s pushed back, he regards me suspiciously. “What’re you going to do?”
“Try something for the first time ever. But no making fun of me if it’s bad, okay?”
A hopeful smile rises onto his face as he lies back in the sand. He knows what I’m talking about. I shuffle back a bit and spread his legs some more, then lie between them and put my hand back on his cock. I stroke him a few times, trying to remember what he said about holding it lightly, then point it toward my face. It really does look big…
I let out a long breath, then move my head forward.
I’m not sure what I expected him to taste like. I haven’t licked a whole lot people before, so maybe skin just tastes different for everyone, but as I drag my tongue up the underside of my brother’s cock, I’m treated to a flavour unlike anything I’ve experienced before. It’s not really something I can even describe… apart from sexy. Perhaps it’s the smell of him as well; his excitement, a light sheen of sweat at his thighs, the smell of Dion that’s just so much stronger down here. And it’s mixed with the constant smell of salt and sea on the wind, each pricking a different tastebud on my tongue as I finish the ascent to his cockhead. When I get there, I’m given a wholly different taste; my tongue soaks up the little pool of precum on his tip, and from the thin yet viscous substance there’s more saltness, yes, but another, new flavour as well. Something thick and tasty.
I like it, and I like that I like it. I have friends, they’ve given blowjobs before. One doesn’t mind the taste of cum, the other hates it, and while neither is right or wrong, I’ve always secretly hoped I would. Partly because I’ve heard they like it, and partly because I sure as heck want them licking up my fluids as well.
I pucker my lips and suckle on the tip for a moment, cleaning off the rest of Dion’s precum. He moans and adjusts his hips, pushing his cock against my closed teeth, and I back off a bit. “You taste nice.”
“I do?” He’s looking down at me with a somewhat perplexed expression, though whether it’s because of my confession or just the fact that his own sister is sucking his cock, I can’t be certain.
“You do. I want more, tell me how.”
He clears his throat and brushes some of my hair behind my ear, making me wish I’d brought a hair tie. “Uh… just, I dunno, put it in your mouth.”
I was rather hoping for more detailed instructions, but I shrug and open up my mouth, then bob down and pop his cockhead in. I have to open wider to fit it in properly, enough that my jaw clicks, so I leave it in there for a while to get used to it. I guess Dion likes it, because he moans again and tilts his head back, eyes closed.
“Jesus, that’s… oohh…”
“Oou ike at?” I mumble around his dick, using a free hand to begin idly toying with his balls.
“I have no idea what… ahh… you said, but if it means you’ll keep going, sure. Just… mmn, be careful with your teeth.”
I’m glad he said that, because I was just about to pull off for a breath and probably scrape him as I went. I slide off more carefully, keeping my upper lip covering my teeth. “Your dick’s really hot.”
“Thanks, you’re hot too.”
“Not like that, I mean temperature-wise. Have you got a fever or something? You better not give me covid.”
He rolls his eyes and shifts on the spot, making his dick bob up and down. I take hold of it and start licking him again, dropping little kisses between each swipe of my tongue. It’s amazing how different it feels to what I was expecting; the skin around his cock is thin, webbed with little veins if I look close enough. It moves a bit with each lick, while the hardness beneath remains firm. I guess it is just basically one big muscle after all. His balls taste nice enough too, and they’re definitely sensitive. When I first lick them he gasps and involuntarily thrusts his hips forward, slapping his dick against my forehead. He blushes and apologises afterwards, but I’m just imagining how hot it would’ve been if he’d done that while in my mouth.
I decide I want to find out. Coming back up to his tip, I open wide and envelop his head again, making him hum his approval. Then, slowly, I venture forward, letting his dick slide further into my mouth.
As much as I’d like to say I immediately began deepthroating him, it turns out I do have a gag reflex, and a pretty selfish one at that. I get maybe an inch and a half down before I have to quickly pull back and gasp in a deep breath.
“Ahh, you okay?” His concern is touching, even as his cock rests against my cheek.
“Yeah, just… this might take a while.”
“That’s fine.”
“You’re just a lot… bigger than I’m ready for.”
“That’s totally fine.” He’s sounding quite smug for some reason.
My second attempt isn’t a whole lot better, nor my third. I get maybe a quarter of an inch further, but that’s about it. I worry that I’m making Dion frustrated, but he doesn’t seem to mind at all. In fact, he’s starting to look a bit out of it.
“I need to look up some tips for next time,” I say.
“It’s cool, you’re… I’m liking it. A lot. Maybe, um…” He blinks as I slowly stroke his cock in my hand. “Maybe try sucking while you go down? Or something?”
“May as well give it a go.” I move my hand back to his balls, slowly playing with them as I dive back onto his cock. I begin sucking, which has the pleasant effect of feeding me more of his pre. It’s flowing out more freely now, so that his natural taste always has the slicker, saltier precum flavour behind it. I keep swallowing as I move down in quarter inch increments, until–
“Huh? What’s wrong, why’d you stop?”
I tap his dick against my cheek. “We use metric, but whenever I think about your dick, I immediately switch to inches. Why is that? Are dicks, like, imperial or something?”
Dion stares down at me in utter confusion. “What?”
I shake my head. “Sorry, ignore me, just suddenly occurred to me. Back to dick sucking.”
It seems Dion’s advice worked, although whether it’s the sucking or the swallowing or a combination of the two is anyone’s guess. Either way, I get nearly to his middle this time before I gag and have to pull back. I decide I’m happy with that much progress for my first ever blowjob, and don’t try to push it further, just sucking and swallowing and bobbing my head a comfortable distance.
“Mmphh… Ash, that’s… you’re–nngh–really good at this.”
I glow with pride and start bobbing faster. His precum is excessive now, mixing with my saliva to make his dick a sticky, wet, delicious mess. I’m practically snacking on it as I blow him, all the while getting rougher with his balls, kneading and squeezing and occasionally even tugging them. Each brings another moan from Dion–he’s getting pretty loud, but I don’t care because it means I’m good at giving my brother blowjobs.
Brother…
A part of me is trying to tell me off for doing this. It’s wrong, I know. Hugely wrong. But just knowing that this really is my brother’s cock I’m sucking… his big, incestuous cock… it’s making me so fucking horny. I want to tell him that, to say, “you like your little sister’s lips around your dick?” like they do in those videos… but those probably aren’t real, and this is, and I don’t know how he’ll react. So I swallow my remarks and just focus on blowing him.
Up, down, up, down… suck, swallow… it’s almost a routine, but it’s not mechanical. It’s organic, fluid–Dion thrusts ever so gently against me at the same time, pushing just a bit more of his cock into my mouth. I’m not gagging anymore, even though I’m nearly halfway down on him.
“Ash…”
“Mmn?” I mumble with a mouthful of cock.
“I’m… nnghh… I’m going to… you know…”
Oh, the irony of him not wanting to say cum while he’s sliding his dick in and out of his sister’s mouth. “Mnngan mgn?” I say. What do I do? Turns out Noongar, being a somewhat nasal language, translates a lot better than English while sucking dick. Good to know.
“I can… pull out if you, hahh, want,” he says.
I slow down, but keep sucking, and look up at him. He’s got a hopeful expression. I shrug and dive back down, feeling his dickhead rubbing against my precum-coated tongue. I suck harder, then place a hand against his thigh just as he starts to let loose.
It was a good move–naturally, he thrusts forward, so I can keep him from choking me when suddenly my mouth fills with his cum. Though despite his warning, the sheer volume catches me by surprise. The flavour is a lot stronger than his pre, and so much thicker. It sticks to my tongue as I swallow and swallow, struggling to keep up.
I pull off and gasp, wiping my mouth, but I guess Dion isn’t finished because another, somehow even more powerful spurt of cum splashes onto my hand and nose. I fall back in surprise, and Dion grabs his dick and finishes himself off, spurts of cum platting into the sand between us as I watch in awe.
“Fuck,” he gasps, and falls backward into the sand. His cock, still half-hard, lilts against his thigh as the final few dribbles of seed slide down its side.
I examine the fluid on my hand. It seems to be getting thicker, sticking against the fine little vellus hairs on my skin. I lick it, and giggle.
“Oh my god, that was amazing,” Dion sighs.
I shuffle over next to him and lie at his side, wrapping a leg over his. Some cum squishes between us, and it’s a little bit gross, but I don’t mind. “I did good?”
“You did great.”
“See? Who said gay guys suck dick the best? I was way better than stupid Blake.” I look triumphantly over at Dion, only to realise he’s avoiding eye contact. “Right? I was, right?”
He opens his mouth, then closes it again.
“Hey! Fuck you, I know I was.” I punch his arm, then roll away from him and cross my arms. “Just you wait, I’m going to be the best blowjob-er ever.”
“I don’t doubt it.” He crawls over and kisses my cheek. “For your first time, you were exceptional.” He smiles down at me, then tilts his head and sticks his tongue out. I watch him with amusement as he licks my nose, cleaning it of his own cum, and swallows it down. “Not bad.”
“A whole mouthful was a bit more than I bargained for though. Sorry I kind of messed up the ending, I didn’t realise how much you were going to shoot.”
“You just keep stroking my ego, you know that?”
Behind Dion, a light briefly shines over the beach. Probably just a car entering a driveway, but it reminds me we’re not supposed to be here. And Dion was being pretty loud. “We should go back home. I wanna do this again though.”
“Oh come on, we’re not done yet.” He rests an arm over my bare tummy, slowly rubbing his hand in circles. “It’s not fair if only I get to have fun.” His hand circles lower, and lower, until he’s brushing the hem of my pyjama shorts. “How about it?”
I find a bit of errant hair and drag it into my mouth, lightly chewing. “We can’t be out here too long…”
He draws back his hand slightly. “So no?”
I chew. Then find his hand and push it back down, until his finger’s just about underneath the hem. “Fine. I’ll let you.”
“So gracious.” He sits up, about to grab my shorts and pull them down, when– “Uh oh.”
The light from before sweeps around again, and stops on Dion’s face. He looks like a bandicoot on the freeway.
“I thought I saw someone down there,” a voice says. A big, stern voice.
My brother doesn’t do anything for a second. I can see his brain calculating. He better not run, or I swear to god I’m turning him into the police.
Dion glances back at our pile of discard clothes. He’s bottomless, I’m topless. Not a great look, but from the top of the beach where the light’s coming from, they can’t see that yet. So all we’d need to do is–
The torch moves down and highlights me as well. It’s there for only a moment before it switches off. “Oh,” says the voice. “I see. Why don’t you two get dressed and come on up here?”
My cheeks flush hotter than the surface of Dion’s dick as I pull my shirt on and slink up the beach and onto the edge of the walkway. It’s beneath the promenade wall, so thankfully the only person that can see us is the patrol officer that caught us. She’s a big lady, in all directions, sporting that kind of heft that’s somewhere between muscle and natural curve. She’s magnificent. Definitely Noongar as well, with a mass of curly greyish hair sticking out from beneath a cap squeezed onto her head. She’s probably a good ten centimetres taller that Dion, which I can confirm when he arrives beside me, just as mortified.
She gives us a long look. Clearly amused by our discomfort, her expression gives me the feeling this kind of thing isn’t exactly a rare occurrence. She also squints at Dion’s face for just a little too long, as if she recognises his face, although of course that’s impossible.
“Alright,” she suddenly says, making us both jump. “You know it’s a two hundred dollar fine for swimming at night?”
“We weren’t sw–” Dion starts to say before I elbow him.
The woman fixes me with a look. “You know why we don’t let people out here at night, right? The waves are unpredictable, there’s no lifeguards or swimmers to see if something goes wrong. And if you do go under, it’s bloody hard to tell which way you’re meant to be swimming. And,” she continues, looking at Dion, “It’s not just the water. We keep this place clean, but you know how the tourists can be. At night, you’re not gonna see broken glass in the sand, or a jellyfish some idiot has thrown up on the beach. Last year some poor kid burnt his feet on a campfire. You see?”
We both nod.
“Alright. Well, there’s a few spotlight beaches on the other side of the city, if you’re wanting a night swim. Or… if you two just wanted some alone time, there’s a lot of nice parks around here. Much less danger of drowning at them.” She looks between us, then nods. “Either way, I don’t want to catch you two here again, got it?”
We nod again.
“Alright. Off you go.”
“Yaankga”, I whisper to her as we part, and she quirks a smile. Thank you.
I realise when we get back home that my shirt’s inside-out, and quicky change it back around in the living room. Dion watches, eyes glittering in the slatted streetlight through the half-open blinds. It’s kind of nice he can do that.
“That was fun,” he murmurs.
“Fun!? We got caught, Dion! Doing incest!” I hiss.
“That old auntie doesn’t know we’re siblings. And like she said, we’re not going to see her again. So don’t worry about it.” He turns to the hall, the pauses and turns back. “It… was fun, right?”
I regard him, trying to stay aloof again. “It was alright, I guess.”
He shrugs. “If that’s the case, no goodnight kiss for you.”
“Maybe I was exaggerating.” I pad quietly over to him, avoiding any squeaky floorboards, and he wraps his arms around me. Holding him, being held by him like this… it just feels so right. “It was fun, Dion. Even if I didn’t get my turn.” I stand on my toes and give him a little peck on the lips.
“We could go back to your room…” he offers, but I sigh and pat his backside.
“Not tonight. We need sleep, we’re meeting dad’s new lady tomorrow. But tomorrow, if you’re good.”
We part ways at my door, although I stay to watch him enter his room. He really does have a good butt. Then I head in, and for the first time in a while, have a damn good sleep.