The house was supposed to be hers. That was the plan. Her parents were away on a Europe vacation for three whole months, and the house would be hers alone.
But then, he ruined it. How was I supposed to know it was uni holidays? She asked herself. How was I supposed to know they last so long?
Distracted by these frustrating thoughts, a wayward elbow caused the neat pile of cleaned dishes to topple into the dirty sink. The response echoed from the lounge room instantly, dampening the sounds of Mario Kart with the deep, warm, comfortable familiarity of her brother's laugh.
"Isla you klutz!" chuckled Bennett.
Isla let out her exasperation as the video game sounds paused. With a few heavy strides, Bennett was in the room.
"Did you need help with anything Lala?" The booming laughter of a now-grown man was replaced with the gentle security of a baby brother who cared.
"I'm OK, Benny," she treated herself to another long sigh "thank you. Say, can I come join you in that game soon?"
"Sure if you want to take two Ls in the same afternoon."
The caring little brother was replaced by his dastardly twin again. He was still chuckling to himself as he reached across Isla's wet front to grab a piece of fruit. Isla could feel the warmth still on him from his afternoon nap, and the scent of his day-old cologne captured her. The white shirt was cheap and the water from washing the dishes made her bra quite visible, but Bennett didn't hesitate -- a slight bump in his rush to grab a pear causing a visible jiggle that his eyes lingered on.
He came to his senses just in time to dodge the splash that Isla sent in his direction, leaving soap suds all over the kitchen stools and scurried back to his game.
Isla took the time to wipe everything down, make sure the dishes were well stacked, and then went to change her top. The relief was immediate as the bra dropped to the floor -- the extra weight she was carrying after months of her dad's cooking was pushing her current range of clothes to their limit. It was getting late and an older, slightly stretched but still cute tank top would work as part of her pyjamas for the night, with the bottom half being covered by her pastel pink knickers.
In front of the mirror, Isla traced her hands over her curves. She was a little softer, a little heavier than since Ben last saw her. But what could you expect? She loved cooking, loved eating. Who doesn't? She carries more curve and softness.
Her hand traced the little curve of her belly, the smoothness over her thighs, rode the contour of her hips. She was getting used to it, and it looked good on her. Especially her chest -- a full chest, not perky and gym-toned but more than a handful and prominent nipples sticking proudly out horizontally, with no sign of sag. Bzzrt. The buzz of a notification ended the self-appreciation early. Her cycle tracking app -- another wasted egg. I guess I should charge my toy.
After tying her hair back and making sure she looked composed for the evening, Isla went back to the lounge to find her brother leaning back, shirt now off for concentration. Then it struck her -- Ben had put on a little too. He was broad-shouldered and naturally strong. He loomed over Isla despite being younger, but he was a little softer through the middle than his earlier teenage years. The lifestyle at home and all of the cooking had caught up to him and the evidence of that was now sitting on his stomach and sides. His arms and chest remained solid, but everything is padded a little. It was normal. It was nice.
"OK buddy, move over. The champ is here," Isla loudly announced.
Bennett shuffled over awkwardly, not taking his eyes off the screen. The grey trackpants he was wearing caught and pulled the waistband tight around his soft stomach. Then she noticed a flash of movement -- a weight between the legs that hadn't previously made itself known until he was sitting down. Isla didn't want to find herself staring, so immediately got into position. How sweet, he had already loaded a character in for her to play.
Yet again without taking his eyes off the screen, Bennett reached over and handed Isla a controller. He placed it fair in her lap with the controller vibrating erratically as her character continually rode a wall in the race. The quiet rumble travelled through the controller and into his knuckles, which were nestled snugly between Isla's thighs.
She froze. He was enthralled by the game, going through menus looking for something special. She dragged her eyes from the grey bulge between his legs down to her brother's hand and, almost against her will, allowed herself to part her legs just a little. It was a very subtle movement, but the vibrating knuckles dipped down in line with what was now a throbbing clitoris, as if knocking on the door asking to enter.
"You're going to make me crash if you don't take this controller."
Before she was lost in the reverie, Isla snatched the controller and kicked her legs up over her brother's lap, stealing a very comfortable position, butt resting on his outer thigh. He replied with a cold glance that said you get away with it this time...
The couch. Controllers in hand. That oh so familiar banter. This was her childhood on repeat. A delicious plate of nostalgia. The hours of the night peeled away rapidly to old games and the comfortable silence of people who have known each other forever.
Then Bennett shifted, this game was getting more intense. He effortlessly bunched Isla's legs together and propped his forearm up on her lap, elbow between her legs. Her sensitive calves felt his shaft slide along her and slide with his movement.
The game was intense. Bennett's controller was audibly vibrating, and it was constant. The vibrations were so persistent that Isla's tank shuffled up and no longer quite covered the soft roll of her stomach. Neither of them commented. The game continued to the sounds of button clicks and the light buzz of the controller.
Isla had lost interest in the game, but her heart was beating out of her chest. She felt the tightening fabric pinch around her nipples as if an arctic breeze had rolled through, but she was experiencing hot flushes. Again, Isla lost control of her body as her legs parted slightly, allowing the elbow to drop angle and centre on her button.
Intense, deep warmth. Steady pulses causing a humming, tingling ripple all through Isla's lower body.
Bennett glanced down at her legs across his lap, then up at the way her tank had ridden up. His voice was still light and playful.
"You're squirming."
No response. His eyes returned to the screen.
"My arm's been there ten minutes, and you just opened wider."
"Maybe I just like winning. Or maybe I'm better at handling stimulation than you are."
Isla pressed down with her legs a little and felt the unmistakeable warmth of her brother's semi-erect member. She pushed against it and Bennett fumbled in the game. Isla smirked.
"Careful, Lala."
His focus turned back to the game. Isla took her legs off her brother's lap and folded them in front of her.
The cooling night air hit the wet line of fabric between Isla's legs and Bennett's eyes dropped straight to it.
"You're wet," he said, voice low. "I can see it."
Isla's gaze didn't move from the colourful display on the game screen. "Vibrating controller right on my clit for ten minutes will do that. Not my fault you left your arm there."
"Didn't hear you move it, Lala."
"Didn't want to."
Isla uncrossed her legs and swung around to lie back against the arm of the couch. As she adjusted, she hooked a thumb in the side of her knickers and tugged the damp fabric more comfortably into place, pulling the crotch of the panties away from herself further than required. Bennett took the opportunity and caught a satisfying glimpse of his little sister's pussy. After also leaving her legs open for a second longer than necessary, she watched the front of his track pants twitch.
"The weight looks good on you," she said, eyes still on the gentle curve of his stomach under the waistband. "Suits you better than when you were trying to be all abs."
Bennett huffed a quiet laugh, but his eyes stayed on his sister's thighs. "You look good soft, too. Always did. Makes a man want to--" He cut himself off, then continued anyway. "Makes a man want to get his hands under that tank and feel how warm you are."
The slightest blush of red.
The words landed heavier than the usual sibling teasing. Isla rolled onto her side facing away from him, pointing her butt next to his hip, cheek pressed to the cushion. Safer from herself.
Bennett leaned over her to plug his controller into the charger on the side table. The movement brought him hip to hip and Isla could feel the thick shape of him through his track pants. His blunt tip dragged slowly back and forth along the smooth valley of her inner thighs before poking at the damp crease. Once. Twice. Is that deliberate? It was hard to tell.
A minute passed without looking at him.
"We're being weird, Benny."
"Yeah."
"You hard?"
"Yeah," The reply was quiet, but honest.
Heat flooded Isla's face so fast it made her tingle. An unexpected flip happened, starting in her chest. Something sincere, but horny and reckless.
Isla glanced back at her brother over her shoulder. "You... you do look good, you know. Really. You should have girls lining up to sleep with you."
Bennett exhaled dramatically out of his nose. "Last date I went on was a disaster. She was terrible at giving head. Like, aggressively bad. I stopped her halfway through and just went home."
That perked Isla up more than it should have and she propped herself up on an elbow. Her tummy wobbled under the tight tank before she made full eye contact.
"I'm better with my mouth than that controller was with vibration," she proudly exclaimed. Confidence built in her voice. "I could do a better job than her. I'd finish you in under five minutes. Easy."
Bennett let out a nervous chuckle before a slight pause. It seemed that nerves finally got to him and the tent he was pitching in the front of his pants subsided to half way.
"Haha you sure? I remember you being pretty confident before I beat you three games in a row."
Isla sat up properly, bunching up her tank top more, and looked him straight in the eye. "I'm dead serious. Five minutes. Mouth only. Maybe a hand. I could do it in four if I wasn't being nice."
He studied his sister for a second, then his voice dropped into something quieter. More deliberate. "Alright. Let's make it interesting. If you can't finish me in under five, I get to cum wherever I want."
Her mind flicked through the possibilities -- hair, tits, stomach -- and landed on the practical. Worst case I just jump in the shower. Not like a bit of cum is the end of the world, even if it's my brother's.
Isla nodded. "Deal."
She reached over, hooked her fingers in the waistband of his pants, and tugged them down. His cock sprang free, only half-hard, heavy and yielding against his thigh. Isla stared at it, then up at his face.
"Oh come on, that's unfair. You're not even fully hard yet." Isla sat back on her heels. "New rule. You have to be properly hard before the timer starts. I'm not wasting the first minute just getting you there."
Something shifted in her younger brother's expression. Maybe confidence finally set in, hesitation falling away. He leaned back against the couch, broad shoulders relaxed, thick arms spanning the whole backrest, chest rising with a slow breath.
"Fine, then get me hard." His eyes moved over Isla without haste. She felt her face flush hot again. "Stand up. Take the top off. Slow."
Isla stood, revealing her pastel pink panties to be almost half converted to a deep, damp pink by her excitement. She peeled the tight tank up and over her head, velvety breast settling with a satisfying bounce, nipples already tight and prominent. Straight chestnut hair cascaded down the steep slope of her breasts as the hair tie got lost in the tangled mess of her top. He didn't rush her.
"Play with them," he said. "I want to watch."
Isla cupped her breasts, thumbs brushing her nipples, a little self-conscious under his stare but already warming up between her legs. He kept going.
"Turn around. Bend over. Show me."
She turned and braced her hands on the coffee table before bending over. The contour of her ass and the wet patch of her knickers were right at his eye level but still his voice remained calm.
"Pull them to the side. Touch yourself. I want you as wet as you were when the controller was on you."
Isla didn't hesitate. Her fingers slipped under the fabric, which was already soaked. She rubbed slow circles over her clit, breath catching, thighs starting to shudder. She could feel him watching every second of it. When a small sound escaped her, he finally spoke again.
"Enough. On your knees."
Isla started to sink down, but her brother's voice stopped her.
"Wait. Take the panties off first."
She hooked the waist and pushed them down with some effort over her soft thighs, reluctantly giving way. The cool air was once again intense on the exposed wetness between Isla's legs. She was already bare for him, older sister standing naked in the family living room while her little brother stared.
"Spread yourself open," he said, quieter now. "I want to see my big sister's pussy the way it's supposed to be seen. Pretty. Inviting. Show me where all that wet is coming from."
She did it, one hand braced on the coffee table. Her right leg lifted and settled flat on the coffee table, peeling apart her delicate pink folds like a flower bud unfolding on a dewy morning. With two fingers she parted her slick lips fully, holding herself spread so he could look straight at the inviting entrance.
Bennett shifted forward on the couch, which creaked. He leaned in close and Isla felt the warm brush of his breath right against her. It was slow and deliberate. A single, pearlescent bead of excitement gathered, trembled, and then dripped from Isla. It landed on the carpet with the faintest sound. A squeaky noise escaped her before she could stop it.
Bennett stayed there a second longer, just looking, breathing on her, before he sat back.
"On your knees now."
Isla lowered her leg, turned, and dropped down between his thighs. He was fully hard now -- thick and visibly bouncing with his heartbeat. The head was already glistening and Isla wrapped her fingers around the base, felt the heat of him, and looked up once.
"Timer starts when my mouth is on you."
He nodded, phone already in hand.
Isla leaned in and eagerly took him.
She started with the head -- soft, wet kisses, then dragging the flat of her tongue slowly under the ridge. Her hand started short strokes as she applied suction. Wet sounds filled the living room and a trail of spit already spilled down his length to her fist at the base.
He responded less than she had expected so now every time she pulled back, she twisted her wrist on the upstroke before sinking back down, forcing her lips to touch her fingers. Isla kept a steady rhythm, not rushed, and used everything she knew. A brief hesitation in her focus caused her to linger in his eyes a second too long, soaking in the feeling of her younger brother filling her mouth, hot against her tongue.
Isla snapped out of it and replaced her tongue on the underside of his impressive girth, straining to attempt deeper takes occasionally, making her throat flutter with light moans vibrating him. Her free hand rested on his lower stomach, feeling it tense underneath the cushioning. Saliva started to run in a thin trickle down her chin and onto her swaying breasts. Isla was extremely wet -- she could feel it coating her inner thighs every time she shuffled on her knees.
Isla glanced up through her lashes, mouth still stretched around him, and saw a face of concentration. His jaw was clenched and his eyes were affixed on the glowing phone timer in his hand. She doubled down -- faster, wetter, as deep as she could handle -- as the rhythmic sounds echoed through the nearby kitchen. She knew exactly what she was doing.
The seconds started to blur with the minutes. Her jaw ached in a familiar, satisfying way and her knees pressed into the carpet. Every time Isla thought she felt his head swell or begin to pulse she pushed further, determined to make him erupt in a way that would make him forget about his disappointing love life.
Then the gentle chime of the timer cut the sounds of sister pleasing brother. Five minutes was up.
Isla pulled off of Bennett with a wet sound, breathing hard, lips a little swollen. He was still fully hard, glistening. Every twitch caused a bit of Isla's saliva to pool at his base. But he hadn't cum.
Bennett locked the phone and set it aside. His voice was surprisingly rough.
"Time."
Isla sat back on her heels again. Her chest was rising and falling, the soft bump of her breasts enticing with the sway. Frustration and disbelief hit Isla at once.
"You didn't cum. That's... You held it back on purpose. It's not fair."
"Doesn't matter." He reached down and brushed his thumb across his sister's wet lower lip.
"It's not fair, I wanted to do something special for you."
"You didn't finish me. Deal's a deal."
Isla opened her mouth to argue, then closed it. She had agreed, she had been completely sure. The pushback was feeble, she had lost.
"... Fine." Isla muttered.
Bennett's hand slid into her hair. It didn't grip or pull, it just rested there.
"Then keep going. No timer now."
Isla leaned back and took him into her mouth again. She put on less of a performance this time, it was less urgent. More obedient. She sucked him deeper, wetter, let him use her mouth and allowing him to set the pace. His breathing began to grow heavy and his stomach muscles tightened again under Isla's palm. The slight rock in his hips warmed Isla.
He stopped her with a gentle pressure on her shoulder. "Wait."
Isla pulled off again, mouth open awaiting his return. He reached for something beside the couch -- a sleep mask or a folded bandana or something -- and slipped it over his sister's eyes. Darkness took Isla but she could feel him stand, coaxing her up with him.
He placed his hands on her waist, guiding her. His warm, strong hands sunk into her soft flanks and she felt safe. He guided her left and then down the hall. With the blindfold on she could feel his masculine presence envelop her. On each sharp turn, his heavy cock tapped her on the hip or buttock. He leaned past to open a door and Isla felt the smooth, lubricated tip press in to her tummy just below the ribs. He hesitated there while Isla heard the door swing open languorously in the silence.
Isla felt his cock angle up and slide up as he pressed forwards into her, then the cold shock of her back against the wall. The weight of her brother pinned her as the smell of rosewater and lychee wafted through the open door. This was Isla's room. Bennett pressed his member firmly into his sister before she felt his hands drift from her waist to her breasts. He let out several long sighs as he kneaded them with enthusiasm, continuously rolling her sensitive nipples between each finger and making her knees tremble. He leapt in for a passionate kiss before breaking off and guiding her into the room, a string of precum briefly connecting his tip to her stomach.
"On your tummy. Across your bed."
Isla let him position her as she grabbed a pillow, visualising the location, and stuffed it under her chest to prop up her head. She let him position her a little more, though to her she felt like she was perfectly poised to have her face eagerly fucked. The thought of that massive hot load shooting straight down her throat caused a surge of lubrication that pooled in the little diamond recess made by her shapely thighs.
However, the last little adjustments from her brother confused her. He pushed her stomach into the pillow, her cheek against the fabric, ass slightly raised. She opened her mouth expectantly so he could feed her his cock between her lips and she could finish him.
Instead, she felt the blunt pressure of his rock-hard head drag up from her clit, painting the bottom of her cheeks with her own juices, and pausing at her entrance. Then immense pressure as he pushed his way in.
Isla let out a gasp and then in one slow, deep thrust he was buried inside her to the hilt.
Another shocked noise caught in her throat. The stretch was sudden and complete, all the way in. Her butt cheeks gave way to his tummy and his weight settled on her lower back. He leaned over the curve of her ass and didn't allow for time to adjust. Bennett grunted a few strong, deliberate thrusts, bottoming out with each.
Before she had gathered her scrambled thoughts, Bennett groaned low against Isla's shoulder and came.
Hot, thick pulses erupted inside Isla. She felt every spurt, every pulse, every surge in exquisite detail. He filled her deep, claimed her. Isla was still locked in the blindfold but the knowledge that this was her younger brother finishing inside her, unprotected, made colours dance in front of her eyes.
"Oh fuck yes. Oh fuck. Fuuuuck yes." His words were throaty, garbled and restrained, like he forced them out through the orgasm.
He didn't pull out.
Bennett stayed fully buried, breathing hard and still resting his warm weight on her lower back. Isla could feel him soften slightly before he shifted his weight back and traced his hands gently over his sister's back, waist, and buttocks. He leaned forwards and took her hair into his fingers again, breathing in deeply through his nose.
"I always loved the smell of your room." The other hand snaked under Isla and cupped a breast as he kissed her neck and ear with short, breathy pecks.
Bennett then leaned back again and she could feel him getting hard. He reimposed his claim on the space inside his sister and she could feel the warmth emanate off him. His hands settled on her hips, thumbs leaving indents, as he began to slowly rock back and forth.
"Again," he muttered, almost to himself.
Slower this time, but just as deep. The wet sounds of Isla's brother pushing his first load deeper into her filled her bedroom. She was so wet and receptive that he slid more easily this time, making the heavy, probing drag of his size against her g spot cause her legs to shudder. He built back up steadily until his own breathing turned ragged.
A second huge release hit even harder and deeper than the first. The orgasm was longer, the ropy strands were thicker, and Isla was flooded until she felt it start to seep out around him even while he was still firmly buried. Bennett held himself there, hips pressed tight, flush against his sister until the aftershocks faded. Only then did he ease himself down, still lingering inside his sister, and place a gentle hand on her waist to make sure she was secure.
The blindfold stayed on. The only sounds were the siblings' breathing and the faint, wet drip of him starting to leak out onto her quilt cover.
Isla lay there beneath her brother, full, throbbing, and completely stunned by how far this night of nostalgia had gone.
He stayed by Isla's side a little longer, until his breathing had evened out. Neither of them spoke, but Bennett quietly slid the blindfold off and let it fall to the floor. He looked with love upon his sister, and she looked with admiration back at him.
As he stepped back, she reached a hand out and cupped his glistening, flaccid, but still hanging cock. The earlier app notification flickered through her mind for half a second -- peak fertility -- this time she didn't push the thought away quite so fast. She felt the slow leak of him inside her, warm and unmistakable. A small, private shiver ran through her from head to toe before she smiled.
"Thank you," Isla directed at her brother's member, slick with both of them. "And thank you." She looked up to meet his eyes.
Isla leaned to her bedside drawers and pulled out a pair of panties, quickly sliding them on, feeling how full and messy she was and not wanting to lose any. She flung the covers back and slipped under, keeping it open in invitation. Bennett hesitated a moment before he joined her in a warm embrace.
"I love you, Lala. Please let me know if you want to make any more bets."
"I love you, Benny. Good night."