Page 115 of Punishing the Brats

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Oh God, she thought, and she couldn’t help it. She tried once more, in vain, to squirm away from him.

She’d never thought of her brother like that before. He’d always just been a jerk to her. But now he was staring down at her like he’d just issued her a dare and refusal wasn’t an option. But what did he mean, more creative?

And why did he just keep getting harder?

Her mind was spinning, but there was something so much worse. Her body hadn’t ever been exposed to such primal temptation before. Never had she ground against a guy’s cock like she was doing then, and she could feel that dull throbbing between her legs.

Whether she liked it or not, her body was definitely in the former camp.

Gross! She squirmed again, but it didn’t matter to her body just how wrong it was. Part of her wanted it. Him. His cock, thrusting in and out of her, taking her virginity right there on the couch. Giving her a taste of what it felt like.

Her breathing was shallow and she tried to squirm again, getting her foot free from the sofa. She tried to shift upwards, and though she succeeded in moving further up his body, freeing herself a little, she lost her grip on the armrest, and her chest fell right against his face.

Worse than that, though, was that now she could feel his cock pulsing against her pubic bone, her needy cunny wanting it more than anything.

The remote was discarded and long forgotten, so when she fell against his face like that, propped up on his lap, he brought both of those thick, bulging arms about her. Those muscled forearms of his pressed into her lower back as he kept her hostage there.

He didn’t rush to move, he kept her there in his grasp, and she swore she could feel him throbbing in tune with the way his hands felt her back, and dared inappropriately close to cupping her butt. It was far more intimate a position than brother and sister should share.

Though most curious of all, was the way her brother seemed to linger there, face pressed to her petite chest. He’d done nothing but put her small size down, and make her feel self-conscious for it, yet there he was… seeming to revel in the feel of her bosom. It made her head spin with the thought! Had all those years of merciless teasing been a lie? A cover-up for how he’d actually felt about her? Her appearance?

When at last he moved his face, it seemed to be a combination of rubbing against her chest and repositioning for him to talk. A convenient excuse, nonetheless.

“I guess this is a yes,” he said with such a devilish glint in his eyes as he grinned, keeping her under his control.

It hadn’t even occurred to her she hadn’t protested. Why hadn’t she protested?

Because it feels good, she thought, and instantly she flushed with anger and embarrassment.

He couldn’t feel good. He was her brother!

She moved her hands to either side of his head, pushing her chest off him, though that quickly backfired. Firstly, it just pushed her loins closer to his, and he was throbbing so hard it almost felt like a vibrator teasing her. It was so close, yet so far away.

And secondly, her shirt was too loose, and at that angle, the V-neck dipped away from her ribs, exposing her bra-less chest to him. Her nipples were already so hard, not as though she could help that. She was so sensitive, and all the friction, the feeling of his cheek lightly brushing them was enough to get them stiff and aching for attention.

He stared.

Openly stared at her breasts. Those pink, stiff nipples crowning her petite mounds, the same ones he’d shamed her for. Those very same tits held his gaze captive, and it wasn’t just shock. She could see that immediately.

Sylvia was old enough to know the gaze of lusty men, and her brother’s was as lusty as they came.

She moved to cover herself, but before she could, his hands snapped into action. Those thick mitts of his grasped her wrists, held them tightly away from her body.

“You’re my pet now, sis,” he said with a mix of casual indifference and a bestial growl that edged in to overpower his attempt at playing it cool. “You gotta ask permission for every lil’ thing. That’s how this works, y’know?”

And though he forced his eyes to hers, she would’ve been a fool to miss the way his gaze flickered back to her chest despite himself.

There was a pit in her stomach, nerves coiled in her body.

But worse than all that was the way his stare, his words, made her breathing shallower, and she wanted to grind against him so bad. To just feel the shaft of his cock rub against her clit and still that incessant throbbing.

She resisted, but it was only a matter of time before she’d have to find some release. Her legs went between his, those slender stalks so much smaller than his bulky muscle, and squeezed her thighs together as if that’d help.

Her brother was displeased with that, it was clear, but he forced her two arms behind her back, pinned them there above her taut rear, those hard fingers of his left hand digging into her cheeks as he kept her locked in place with just the one muscular grasp.

“Y’know, you’re kinda pretty when your mouths shut and you’re obeying,” he said, but the lie was obvious now. He thought she was pretty regardless. Maybe it was the wine that was responsible for letting that fact slip, but whatever it was, it was out there now.

She didn’t know what to say, but she wanted to protest. To tell him off, that he was being a jerk and a creep.


Tags: Candy Quinn Erotic