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It had been a fairly stressful week, and I found myself thinking back on it as I stood on the corner, waiting to be picked up by my older brother.

He had been busy getting settled into his new apartment and I, getting settled into University life, so we hadn’t seen each other in a few good months.

Matt was 27 and I, 21. He had been where I was now, so he understood perfectly just how stressful it could get.

The two of us had always been close, even in the midst of our rivalry. That could be because we were the only children in the family and whenever anything wasn’t going right, we’d always rely on one another. No matter how many harsh things we said, or how many bruises or broken bones we gave to each other, we knew that we would always be there, no matter what.

Even in the last 3 months, as he and I had seen nothing of one another, we had kept up to date via email and the occasional phone call.

I hated to admit it, as I am 21 – a legal adult in every possible sense – but I looked up to my brother. It never ceased to amaze me how we had taken such different paths in life, but both turned out so well. I was proud of how everything in his life had fallen perfectly into place.

I heard his motorcycle approaching a few seconds before he came into view, and although I had yet to see his new bike, merely from his stance, I could tell it was him beneath the helmet.

I’d only ever seen him in his old SUV, and however cool and rugged it had been, I had to admit, this suited him so much better.

It added a touch of danger and risk to his exterior, and had he not been my big brother, I would definitely have been attracted to the utter power he exuded.

“Hop on, Half-pint,” he said, tossing a helmet at me.

Even though I was barely 5’2, he was the only one I’d allow to get away with calling me such names. Seeing as he was 6’1, it would have been utterly ridiculous to try and argue the matter with him, anyhow.

It was my first time on a bike, and I had to admit, it was a little awkward, and I found myself holding onto Matt for dear life.

It was weird being so close to my brother, although I didn’t know why, other than how oddly intimate it felt, wrapping my arms around his waist, and after awhile, leaning my head against his back.

It wasn’t long before we pulled up in front of a large apartment complex.

When we spent time together, there were never any set plans, and we usually ended up just taking advantage of any possible relaxation time we could get, away from our hectic lives, by bumming around with a new release or two, and a few beers.

This day seemed no different, except for the initial short tour of Matt’s new place.

It was small but nicely set up – living room, kitchen, bedroom, and bathroom – all he really needed, as it was just serving him, and occasionally, me.

The afternoon was incredibly relaxing and by the time we’d watched the first movie, I’d actually polished off two beers.

Sprawled on one end of the couch, Matt sprawled on the other, I kicked out my leg, hitting him in the hip.

“Be a cool brother and go get me another beer,” I said, snuggling farther into my corner of the couch.

“And why would I do that? What would I get out of it?” he asked, channel surfing aimlessly.

“Sexual favours,” I laughed, and pushed him toward the edge of the couch with my foot. “Now go.”

He was silent for a second before he began to laugh. “I thought you were going to make it worth my while,” he said, obviously proud of himself for his witty retort.

“Please?” I asked, in my best I’m-so-sweet-that-you-want-to-do-things-for-me voice.

A loud groan, and he was up and on his way to the fridge. Success!

I heard the fridge slam shut in the other room and Matt popped his head from around the corner.

“You know, Half-pint, I’ve known you for twenty-one years and I’ve never seen you drunk – only heard stories.” He was smiling. I knew something was up, but didn’t know what, just yet.

“Toss a vodka cooler my way, and that could change rather quickly,” I smiled, as I knew that he didn’t drink coolers – said they were too girly or something.

“I know,” he said, and I almost missed, as he tossed a bottle toward me.

Proud of myself for catching it out of the blue, I looked down. Smirnoff Ice.

“You fucker. You’re trying to get me drunk,” I said, as I popped the cap and took my first, smooth sip.

“That’s ok,” he said, taking a swig of his beer, “If you try to jump me and do inappropriate things, I’ll just have to restrain you.”

Against my better judgement (as if I really had a choice in the matter), I found myself getting slightly turned on by his words.

He knew I was a submissive, and even though I knew better, I allowed myself, if only for a moment, to believe that he said it to get a reaction from me.

“Cheap bastard,” I laughed, “Why wait until I’m too drunk to appreciate it?”

Before I knew what was happening, he was on top of me, pinning my wrists above my head with only one hand.

I felt as my pupils dilated against my will, and I turned my head, hoping that he hadn’t noticed.

He leaned his head down until his lips were almost touching my ear.

“Maybe because you used to scream for mom when were little,” he whispered.

“I’ve grown a lot since then,” I said quietly, forcing myself to meet the heat of his emerald eyes.

“I’m fully aware of how much you’ve grown, Vicky,” he said leaning down to my ear again, this time, his lips brushing my lobe, causing me to tremble. “Painfully aware,” he breathed, sending chills down my spine.

And with that, he released my wrists, and lifted himself off of me. I just lay there for a second, trying to recover from how incredibly turned on I was, as well as the confusion over what exactly had happened.

I finally sat back up and tried to act as if nothing had occurred, which let me tell you, was not an easy feat, by any stretch.

“I got the bottles, Half-pint. You get to toss in the next DVD,” he smiled from his end of the couch, holding up his beer bottle.

I couldn’t think of a witty comeback, and for fear of saying anything and having my voice tremble or any such thing, I silently got up and changed the DVD’s.

We sat in silence for a good half of the movie before Matt finally spoke up.

“So you’re really that bad?” he asked, still watching the movie.

“What?” I asked, not having a clue what was going on.

“Just my pinning your arms, turned you on that much?” He asked as if it were nothing. Meanwhile, I was almost choking on my Smirnoff Ice.

“Fuck you, Matt,” I said, trying my best to ignore him. We’d always swapped witty banter, many times of a semi-sexual nature, but this was going too far. Why couldn’t he just drop it?

“I’m not trying to bug you, really. I find it fascinating. You used to hate being restrained in any way when we were kids. What changed?” he asked, putting down his bottle and turning to face me.

I couldn’t think of the right words, so I just decided to start talking and hope that I made some sense.

“Matt, do you know how our kinks are created? By experiences in our childhood. Did you ever think that maybe those times when you threw me onto the couch, or against the wall, or tied me to the chairs, all combined to create this in me today?” Shit, I thought, why had I said that? I guess I could have said numerous worse things, though.

“Kinky,” was all he said, with his trademark Matt grin.

I took the final mouthful of my bottle and stood up. “Want another one?” I asked, as I walked toward the kitchen.

“Vicky,” Matt said, with little to no emotion. I turned around. He was right behind me, and before I could do anything, he had me pressed up against the wall, facing him, his hand on my throat, gently yet insistently.

I didn’t say a word, only stared up at him, trying not to let my arousal show on my face.

I had no time to even realize what was happening before his lips were pressed roughly against mine, his tongue slipping through my already parted lips.

My hands went up to his shoulders, more for support than to push him away, though, as I didn’t entirely not enjoy what was happening, especially with how I was feeling after his little exercise on the couch earlier.

I felt him moving, but his lips never ceased in their assault on me, and I didn’t know what it was he was doing until he let go of my throat, and grabbing my wrists, began to bind them with his belt.

Once my wrists were bound behind me, he once again gripped my throat, a little harder this time, and with his other hand, began to unzip my hoodie.

“Matt, what are you doing?” I gasped, not trying to stop him, as really, it was too late for that.

“I’m giving you exactly what you want,” he replied, as he took my breast into his mouth, swirling his tongue over my nipple, as I moaned out in pleasure.

“But -” I started, but he only tightened his grip on my throat, and stopped me in mid thought.

His hand slowly trailed down my torso, his short nails biting into my flesh.

I moaned out, not wanting to give in, but knowing no other way. It didn’t seem to matter that he was my brother, or rather it turned me on even more.

His lips followed the path that his nails had taken straight down my torso, and his tongue helped to soothe the pain.

He paused at the waistband of my shorts, running his fingers every which way across my stomach, teasing me, making me want him even more than I already did. I felt as his hand slowly eased it’s grip on my throat, still holding me, still forceful, but now allowing me sufficient air.

“Tell me what you want,” he whispered, against my skin, allowing me to feel as his breath danced along the tiny hairs on my body.

“I want you,” I half whispered, half moaned. “I need you” I said, pressing my abdomen against him.

“Tell me what you want me to do,” he said again, his voice suddenly turned cold.

I could feel my body trembling. I needed to feel him so badly.

“I want you to touch me,” I gasped, in such need of release that I was almost in pain – a pain that seemed to cloak my entire body, every nerve ending screaming out for him.

He let go of my throat and in one swift motion, he had my shorts around my ankles

He gently ran his finger over the outside of my panties, causing me to squirm and moan out.

“You’re soaked, you little bitch,” he said, sneering up at me. “You’re getting turned on by your own brother. You’re such a little whore.” And with that, he pulled down my panties, leaving them halfway up my legs, making me feel even filthier.

My pupils were so dilated that by this point, my eyes were watering, and the dim light from the setting sun was hurting me.

I felt Matt’s face so close to my cunt, his breath playing along my slit. I pushed my hips forward, hoping to force him to touch me, but he was too fast, and he moved away, just in time.

“Please,” I moaned, too weak and too aroused to do anything but beg.

I didn’t even feel him move, but suddenly, his finger was as far up my cunt as it would go.

“This what you want, bitch?” he asked, as he began his painful thrusts. “Do you want to have your brother so far up you that you cry?” he asked, and I could hear his teeth gritting with his new-found aggression.

I began to move with his short, violent thrusts, but suddenly, he pulled his hand back and out of my body completely.

“I asked you if this is what you wanted,” he said, suddenly standing, and taking a handful of my hair. I nodded. “Get on your knees,” he demanded, using his grasp on my hair to push me down, until I was kneeling before him.

He had managed to undo his pants, and he had them around his knees.

“Suck me,” he said, his hand on the back of my head, forcing me toward his cock, standing at attention in it’s six inch glory.

At that moment, as I was about to accept him into my mouth, I wondered why girls would desire a man better endowed than this. There was no way I could fit all of him into my mouth as it was, and the thought of him being any larger, just intimidated the hell out of me.

I stared in complete awe of what lay before me. He was cleanly circumcised, and incredibly pleasing to the eye. Where many men to me, seemed awkward in a naked state, Matt was a picture of male perfection – every curve, every contour, just right. There was nothing wrong with his cock, and I leaned forward, eager to taste him on my tongue.

Forcing my head closer, I parted my lips, and closed my eyes, savouring the feel of my tongue sliding over the tip of his cock.

He was so smooth, and I found myself willingly pushing forward, taking more of him into my mouth.

I heard a low groan escape his lips, and pulled my head back from him, swirling my tongue in small patterns up the underside of his cock, tracing his vein.

I wanted to reach out and touch him with my hands – experience what it would be like to wrap my hand around his shaft, to slowly increase the pressure, as I jerked him to orgasm. I wanted to see his face as he came into my mouth, onto my chest.

I continued on in my quest to explore every inch of his cock with my tongue, occassionally taking an inch or two of his length into my mouth.

His breathing was coming a little faster now, and he has painfully tightening his grip on my hair, when suddenly, with a force that sent a sharp jolt of pain through my scalp, he pulled my head back, and out of reach of his throbbing cock.

I let out a slight moan of disappointment before I could stop myself, and wondered if he had heard – both fearful of what he’d do if he had, and perhaps a little excited at the possibilities.

“Is that disappointment I hear?” he asked, pulling my hair, causing me to cringe with pain, and successfully bringing me to my feet, facing him. “Did you want more of your big brother’s cock in your mouth?”

I couldn’t bring myself to meet his eyes, only nodded slightly. I heard the slap before I felt as his open hand collided with my cheek. It was an almost immediate, burning pain, and seemed to radiate from my cheek to the rest of my face. I was barely aware as the first tear slid down my cheek.

I don’t know why I cried, but I couldn’t seem to stop it. I remained silent, simply staring at the ground as the hot tears streaked my face.

Turning me around with the one hand that remained entangled in my hair, Matt pushed me forcefully back over the arm of the couch – my head lower than the rest of my body, my hips resting on the arm.

He stood above me, pressing his legs against the couch, standing between my parted thighs.

I lay there, my cheeks wet from my tears, and I gazed up at him, watching him stare coldly down at me in all my vulnerability.

I watched intently as he took his cock in one hand, and slowly began to stroke himself – slow, sure motions.

I was seemingly glued to the sight before me, and had I had the use of my hands, I would have reached down and attempted to relieve myself.

Luckily, even in his dominance, Matt wasn’t so cruel as to make me suffer through watching him cum, and deny me the same satisfaction.

With his free hand, he ran a finger down my slit, and I felt it slide smoothly, slick with my arousal.

He paused at my entrance, toying with me, running his finger around and over me, then dipping it into me a tiny bit before teasing me again.

I began to whimper. It was anything but intentional, but luckily, had a good effect, as he slowly slid his finger into me, twisting slightly, before pulling it back out, halfway.

I pushed my hips up to meet his slow strokes, and was rewarded with a second finger, causing me to scream out.

He began to thrust faster, the noise telling me just how soaked I was.

His other hand sped up, as well, and I heard a few low grunts escape him, through my constant moans.

I wasn’t able to last long, with his violent thrusts, causing what I knew would turn into bruises later that day.

Suddenly, as if my entire body were exploding, my climax ripped through me – my entire body tensing, my hips bucking up off the couch, fireworks going off behind my eyelids, my moans turning into a scream, and eventually cracking, silencing me, except for my short, quick breaths.

Just as I was coming down from the ultimate high, I felt as Matt came, his hot cum, exploding out onto my stomach, as he uttered a final, low groan.

We both paused for what seemed an eternity, before he finally moved back from the couch, and pulled up his pants.

“Well, Sis, I guess it works out really well that I’m as dominant, as you are submissive,” he said, as he picked up my shorts and tossed them at me, before sitting on the opposite end of the couch, and silently turning the movie back on.

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