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Just because he didn’t pop her cherry didn’t mean that she didn’t cum on his hand, didn’t finger herself while giving him a blow job. That she couldn’t still taste his load in her mouth, and the sticky wetness between her thighs.
She lay atop her bed, though, and she wasn’t sated. Not yet. She still wanted so much more. To know what he’d feel like, slipping into her, making her cry out. He’d rubbed his cock against her pussy and it had felt electric. Like nothing else she’d ever experienced, and she wanted it again.
Worst of all, she wanted it to be him. It was like a switch had flipped in her brain, and now, all she could think about was Zach fucking her. It had been an obsession all day, ever since she found her panties in his room. After realizing he’d jerked off into them.
And then she’d put them on, just to feel them against her.
It was sick, and wrong, but she’d never been so turned on in her life. To know that her brother had watched her masturbate. To think of how his weight felt atop her, how good his cock felt, threatening her innocence.
Her fingers went down, snaking into her panties, feeling that wet, throbbing bud with a whimper.
She hadn’t heard anyone come in, but honestly, her heart was pounding so hard she could barely hear. If it were her parents home, though, they’d have surely made a noise, right?
She didn’t know, but she was too terrified to leave her room. Terrified of what she might do with her brother.
Terrified of what she wanted to do with him.
~Chapter 28~
Zach hurried to get dressed, and when he heard nobody come in, he finally ventured back downstairs. There, the knocks were coming at the door, and he could see the shadow of someone through the side windows.
Whoever, it was, wasn’t their parents, and he was pissed at them for ruining the most intense moment of his life.
A moment where he’d very nearly slipped his dick into his little sister and claimed her virginity.
A scowl crossed his face as he tugged his shirt back into position and made his way over to the door. A glance out the window though, told him he wasn’t going to be happy about this. But he wouldn’t be allowed to show it.
“What are you doing here? Is everything okay?” he asked, pulling open the door for his aunt.
The diminutive woman pushed in on past him, so much shorter than him. It was easy to see what side of the family she was from.
“You took a long time to answer the door, I was starting to get worried!” she exclaimed, helping herself on in, looking around, inspecting the place like she was the cops looking for unlawful activity.
“Why are you here, Aunt Betty?” he asked again, slowly closing the door as he looked her over in her beige skirt and jacket. She looked like she’d just come from her real estate job.
“Your parents have been worried sick,” she said, stepping out and looking into the living room before peering back at him. “They’ve been calling you for days without answer, and you’ve not been checking in like you were supposed to. So they called me over.”
Zach felt ready to kick himself. They were supposed to check in with their parents every day, to make sure things were fine. He’d been avoiding it, of course, hoping that Sylvia was taking care of it so he didn’t have to. He guessed they both let that tedious task drop.
“Zach!” She said, sounding disappointed as she made her way into the living room. “You’ve got a piece of pizza here, splattered onto the coffee table!”
A leftover from Sylvia and his filthy little tryst. A discarded piece of pizza he’d had not the time to lay down even.
He ran his fingers through his blonde hair, his dark eyes intense upon the woman. He had to get rid of her, and fast.
Fuck, for all he knew, Sylvia was upstairs rubbing one out, and then their chance might be lost forever.
His chance.
“Yea, Sylvia’s a pig,” he said finally, going over to the slice and picking it back up, putting it in its box. The rest of the pizza had cooled, and he put it aside. “But we’re clearly fine. Just busy. Sylvia had her gymnastic thing, and I’ve had practice. Must’ve slipped our minds to call, but we’re fine.”
His aunt screwed up a corner of her lips and walked about the place in her heels, purse over her shoulder as she studied the place, inspected his pizza box that was all but forgotten.
“I hope you haven’t only been eating this junk,” she said, glancing back at him before heading through the kitchen. “Maybe I should stay and cook you and your sister a nice meal before I go,” she said, tapping her toes upon the flooring.
He had to hide his scowl. Play nice. Ignore the throbbing in his pants, the scent of his sister still lingering on his member. What was she doing upstairs? He strained his ears but he couldn’t hear anything. Why didn’t she come down to see who it was?
The memory of her pleasuring herself, lost to the throes of pleasure went through his mind once more. Her slim body contorting in wanton, carnal passion. He wanted to feel it against him.
