As he walked past her bedroom he heard the unmistakable sound of his sister sobbing, crying out “What am I going to do? He’ll see it as soon as he comes home!” He paused at her closed door, concern rose for his sister as he could hear she was truly distraught about something. Curiosity caused him to open her door, to see who she was talking to, to find out why she was crying. She was lying on her stomach on the bed, legs spread at a 45 degree angle, bent up at the knees swaying to and fro as she wailed into her phone. He briefly studied her denim covered butt, the long brunette hair that flowed over her shoulders in soft waves down the graceful curves of her back and the unbidden thought floated up from the more sinister parts of his psyche, for a fifteen year old she was pretty hot. “God Becky,” she cried, “he won’t let me near a car for years, I’ll be grounded until I die!”
He stepped around so she could see him, she looked up, her face was a ruin of tear stained makeup, grief filled her reddened eyes. She caught her breath when she saw him looking down on her, she lowered her phone and challenged, “What?”
“What’s going on Morgan, what’s wrong?”
His sister lifted the phone to her ear, “I’ll call you later Becky,” pause, sniffle, “Yeah, my brother is here.”
She sat up, cross-legged on her bed and wiped her nose with a wad of tissue, “I screwed up big time, Daddy is going to kill me.”
He sat on the side of her bed attentive. He liked his sister, they got on well, not like Mike or Ben who hated their younger sisters. They both swore those ‘bitchy cunts’ were the devil’s own spawn set on earth to ruin their brothers’ lives. Morgan wasn’t like that, they had a good sibling relationship and if she had a problem, he would do what he could to help. “What happened?”
“I took the ‘57 out.”
“You drove dad’s Chev? Your right, that’ll piss him off if he finds out but how could he if it’s back? I saw it when I came in. Can you even drive it, I mean do you know how to drive it? Where did you go?”
She lowered her eyes to her lap and wiped them dry, the tissue came away with a smear of mascara, “I didn’t go anywhere, I just wanted to go up and down the driveway a few times but when I backed up I bumped into that garden gnome by the driveway and scraped a big scratch on the fender.” She looked up at her older brother, “He’s gonna kill me Brad!”
“Oh shit” is all the encouragement he could offer just then. Morgan was right, their father had owned the 1957 two door Chevrolet Bel Air since high school and just two years earlier had it restored like new. It cost him a ton of money but to him it was worth it and he was hyper sensitive about its appearance and condition. “Come on, show me.”
It was a gouge about six inches long just behind the fender well, slightly above the bumper, the black paint was scraped away, bare metal glinted accusing at Morgan making her cry again. Brad inspected the damage knowing full well his sister was in deep shit. There was no way to cover up her crime, to hide the evidence. She led the way back into the house then fled for her sanctuary, leaving her brother alone.
Their father would be home in an hour.
He sat in his room thinking about what would happen to Morgan. Brad knew her life as a teenager was about to end, she was destined to be part of the house décor until she left for college. At 15½ she got her learner’s permit, but now she wouldn’t get her license to drive at 16. And it wasn’t even a big scratch; he felt sorry for her. He didn’t fault her for trying to drive the car, he knew exactly what was in her mind because he had taken it joy riding a few times himself before he was licensed. Since then his father had let him drive the car occasionally; on his 18th birthday he had even gotten to take Marlene on a date in it. He knew too that if he scratched the car their father would be majorly pissed but the punishment would be along the lines of ‘you pay to get it fixed then I might let you live’. As he pondered his sister’s gloomy future the solution to two problems, one his, and now Morgan’s, surged into his mind and formed as a single idea.
The first problem, Brad’s, was his sister. Over the last year or so Brad had been watching her mature into a pretty, well formed young woman and lately his fantasies about sex and girls included her. For the last few months he had been teetering on the edge of hitting on Morgan but was sure she would reject him, after all he was her brother. Well, if she accepted his solution to her problem, that minor objection could be overcome. He went to talk to Morgan.
Sad blood shot eyes looked up at him, “What?”
“Do you have enough money to pay to get the paint fixed?”
“I don’t know, how much would it cost? Why?”
“I’m going to tell dad it was me, that I drove the car to pick up Marlene and I scratched it. He’ll blow a cork but I have my license and he won’t take it away. If he knows you did it, you’ll be walking until you need a wheelchair. I’ll have to pay to get it fixed, that’s why you need money.”
Morgan sat up, swung her legs over the edge of the bed, hope surged in her heart, “You’re going to take the blame for what I did?”
“Sure, why not, I haven’t made dad mad in four or five months, it’s time.”
Morgan launched herself from the bed and flew directly to her brother. She wrapped her arms around him and clutched to him as if he had just rescued her from a torturous hell. She was crying again and at that exact moment she would have done anything to reward her savior. Brad put his arms around his sister and enjoyed the press of her tits mashed against his chest, the feel of her thighs rubbing against his. His cock began to swell.
She tilted her head back and gushed “Thank you Brad! Thank you forever! I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to pay you back.”
She cocked her head, excited, “What? How? I’ll do anything.”
“Anything? Anything like let me fuck you?”
Morgan dropped her arms from him and backed off, her eyes wide with shock, savior or not she wouldn’t do that, “No! Anything but that you asshole!”
Brad looked at his watch then back at her, the rejection didn’t faze him, “Dad will be home in twenty minutes. In twenty-five minutes he’s gonna know one of us banged up his car. “That gives you twenty-four minutes to decide which one of us takes the blame.”
She was pale, stressed in another way, “I let you have sex with me and you tell daddy you did it? That’s blackmail you sick perv!”
“That’s the deal Morgan, him or me.” With that Brad left his sister to ponder her fate.
Twenty-two minutes later the house echoed with their father’s roar, “Brad! Morgan! Get the hell out here!”
They came from their rooms together, Brad was almost nonchalant, Morgan, panic stricken. Just before they entered the front room to face their father Morgan put a hand on her brother’s arm to halt him, she looked into his eyes and nodded. He wanted reassurance he read her right, “I did it to the car, you do it with me?” She nodded again as stress lines creased her pretty features. “Don’t nod, say it.”
Morgan looked into her brother’s eyes, anger flared in hers and it came out as an edgy hoarse whisper, “If you tell dad you scratched the car you can fuck me.”
Brad was on a roll, he felt in control, daring, so he pressed, “Promise? All the way, I cum in you?”
She snapped her head up and just as she was going to refuse their father yelled again, “Where the hell are you two?” The desperate decision was made, “Yesss!” she hissed hatefully, he could fuck her to the end.
Brad put on his guilty face and admitted to his dad he had taken the car to pick up his girlfriend and scratched it when he pulled in too close to the cement statue. Their father ranted and raged, grounded Brad from the Chev for the rest of his life and told him he had to pay to get it fixed. Even as he was getting yelled at his cock was half hard because his mind was dwelling on Morgan who was dismissed early. As for Morgan, she was relieved she wasn’t the one in trouble but was queasy from what she had promised Brad.
.... There is more of this story ...