Chapter 2

When I entered the kitchen the next morning, Steve was already there, sipping coffee. His gaze followed Mom as she moved about the kitchen, her long, bare legs holding his attention.

“Good morning, Bro. You’re up earlier than usual,” I greeted, raising an eyebrow.

He quickly stood and pulled out my chair with an easy smile, assisting me as I sat down. “Yeah,” he said, as he helped slide my chair closer to the table. “I wanted to get an early start on my chores so I can dedicate the afternoon to studying.”

Once he settled back into his seat, he began outlining his agenda for the day, his tone calm but focused. His feeble attempt to disguise the fact that his early arrival was aimed at admiring Mom’s legs brought a smile to my face. I nodded in agreement, after he finished detailing his tasks, and offered, “After I help Mom clean the house, I can help you tackle that Greek material.”

Mom set a plate of eggs and potatoes in the middle of the table, joined us, and interjected, “That’s a wonderful idea. After lunch, both of you can adjourn to his room to study while I finish up around here. We did so much yesterday that there’s hardly anything to do. I’ll prepare dinner later and then you’ll have all evening to prepare for your exams this week.”

“Thanks,” Steve croaked, his voice thick with emotion. “To both of you. I really appreciate all you’ve done for me.”

The gratitude in his tone made me smile, and I noticed the way Mom’s expression softened as she reached over to pat his hand. “That’s what family’s for, Steven,” she said warmly. “We’re proud of you.”

Remorse swept through me as I watched Mom’s happiness flourish with every step my brother took toward success in school. Her joy was palpable, filling the room with an air of joy. My original plan—to sabotage my brother until he fell from Mom’s graces felt more like a betrayal to the ones I love. Doubt crept in, insidious and unrelenting, as I recognized the depth of her devotion, a love so profound it embraced both of us unconditionally.

While we ate, I contemplated my next move. “If I distanced myself from him, denying him the pleasure of interacting with a woman, would he find someone else?” I asked myself. It would be easy to guide him in the wrong direction when tutoring him with his upcoming exams.

After we finished eating, I threw myself into cleaning the house, but the turmoil within me gnawed at my conscience. The repetitive tasks offered little distraction, and before I knew it, lunchtime had passed, and I was sitting in Steve’s room, skimming over his class material. To my surprise, I enjoyed reviewing the subject matter I excelled at, breaking it down and explaining it until he had a solid grasp.

We laughed often, veering off-topic at times, sharing stories and inside jokes that made the afternoon fly by. When dinner rolled around, a sense of pride swelled in me—I had genuinely helped him. Any lingering thoughts of steering him wrong had completely vanished, replaced by the warmth of sibling connection and the satisfaction of watching him grow.

After cleaning up after dinner and showering, I pulled on my shorts and tight top before slipping on my robe. All thoughts of ending my nightly displays were thrown out the window as I eagerly traipsed down the hall to my brother’s room. After entering, my body heat elevated when I glimpsed at his choice of attire. True to his word, he had decided to wear more comfortable clothes. His short gym trunks allowed his muscular, hairy legs to be proudly displayed while his tank top showcased his bare, broad shoulders.

Tossing off my robe, I sat cross-legged, facing him, my shorts riding up until they barely covered my smooth, horny pussy. I hardly read a thing, my gaze traveling up and down his body. He glanced over periodically, smiling widely each time, his eyes drinking in my thigh flesh. He no longer tried to hide his ogling as his eyes devoured my exposed, bare flesh.

After an hour, he twisted his neck side to side, stretching. He groaned, “I’ve sat here so long that I’m getting stiff. Maybe I’ll take a break for a while.”

Jumping up, I moved behind him and placed my palms on his shoulders. His skin was hot, sending waves of warmth through my body. My fingers dug in and massaged his tense muscles. “We can’t have you neglecting your studies,” I explained, justifying my lustful craving to touch his magnificent body.

After a minute of working his shoulders and neck, he groaned, “God, that feels good, Sis. Thanks a lot. I’m already feeling more refreshed.”

“No problem, Bro,” I barely whispered, my breath shortened, as my fingers spread out and dug into his firm, hard body. After several minutes, my hands traveled up his neck and through his scalp, massaging and caressing him while exploring new territory. Each time he moaned when I hit a sensitive area, I lingered and concentrated on pleasing him.

My eyes darted down to the tops of his hairy legs and traveled up to his bulging shorts. His excitement matched mine and fearing I was advancing too fast, I released him. I quickly returned to the beanbag, knowing that if I remained any longer, my shorts would dampen from my leaking pussy. I barely read any more of my book as we drifted between studying and discussing a variety of topics.

Relief finally came when I returned to my room and quickly stroked my pussy until I climaxed.

The next morning began our new daily routine with Steve showing up early for breakfast while our evenings became more intimate. My massages lasted longer and my hands ventured outward, down his back and arms.

Wednesday evening, with his study workload diminished after successfully completing his exams, the tone of the room felt lighter. Hearing his occasional chuckles as he focused on the screen, I moved behind him. My hands instinctively rested on his shoulders, giving a gentle squeeze.

Noticing he was engrossed in a game, I playfully admonished, “Shouldn’t you be studying?”

He glanced up briefly, a relaxed smile on his face. “I’m all caught up,” he replied confidently. “Thanks to you, I aced my Greek exam today. I think I’ve earned a little reward for doing so well. Besides,” he added with a grin, “this helps me unwind.”

“I’m so proud of you,” I exclaimed, leaning over and kissing his neck. I left my lips in place, inhaling his intoxicating scent. Reluctantly releasing him, I asked, “Mom will be so happy. Why didn’t you tell us over dinner?”

“I thought about it but wanted you to be first, in private, because you’re the one that made it all possible, I don’t know how I can ever repay you for all you’ve done.” His voice softened as he added with heartfelt sincerity, “You’re the best sister ever.”

It warmed my heart, hearing him outpour his deepest feelings. Without thinking of the consequences, I slid his chair far enough backward, until I could straddle his lap, facing the screen. Our bare legs meshed together, his hair tickling my smooth flesh. “You can start repaying me by teaching me how to play. It looks like fun and I haven’t spent much time playing games.”

He scooted the chair closer to the desk, his head resting on my shoulder. His arms went around me, one hand gripped the mouse, while his other worked the keyboard. “It’s the least I can do,” he croaked, his hot breath washing across my neck. While he showed me the mechanics of the game, explaining how to navigate through the maps, his arms brushed against mine.

When I was confident of how to play, I replaced his hands with mine, taking control. His arms went to his side and wanting more, I pleaded, “Help guide me through until I get the hang of it.”

When he placed his hands on top of mine, his arms pressed against the sides of my breasts. I moved around when the quests changed, ensuring his arms remained against my body. I felt my nipples harden while my slot moistened. When I felt his stiff prick rubbing against my bottom, I almost screeched out with pleasure.

After an agonizing ten minutes of pretending to play the game, he slid the chair backward, gripped the undersides of my thighs, and lifted me off his lap. My lustful expectations withered when he stated, “Sorry, Sis. My legs were falling asleep. I probably need to return to my studies anyway. I can show you a few other games another time.”

“Sure, Bro,” I croaked, trying vainly to conceal my illicit desires. After I returned to my beanbag, we discussed various topics, which helped quell the incestuous urges boiling inside me. I found myself feeling closer to him than ever before—not just as a sibling, but as a close friend. Our shared interests and similar tastes made it easy to get lost in the exchange, the room filled with laughter and understanding. It was surprising how naturally the bond between us deepened as if we were rediscovering each other in a new light.

Later that night, after my initial quick release, I gripped one nipple and twisted it while I rubbed my engorged clit. My mind filled with the memory of his prick pressed against me, separated by only two thin pieces of fabric. I envisioned it proudly standing tall and wondered how thick and long it was. My close friend, Denise, went with him on prom night and when she tried to describe how much joy she received that night, I cut her off, not wanting to hear about my brother fucking my friend. She hounded him for weeks afterward to go out, but he declined, focusing on his studies.

The image of Steve pounding his cock into my friend sent me over the edge as an explosive orgasm shook my body. While I relaxed and recovered, a new plan began to form in my mind. Picking up my phone, I texted Denise. After sending my message, I set my phone on my nightstand and while my mind fantasized about the upcoming possibilities, I fell asleep.

The next morning during breakfast, as if Mom had caught on to my latest plan and sought to derail it, she smiled warmly at my brother and asked, “Steven, Saturday is your birthday. Would you like to eat out and celebrate it with us—my treat?”

He hesitated for a moment, his gaze briefly flickering downward before he answered, “That sounds good, Mom. I don’t want anything fancy, though. No need for gifts either. You guys have already done so much for me.”

My heart sank, realizing Denise failed to go along with the direction I had in mind. It was clear I’d need an alternative approach. At work, my mind raced through different scenarios and strategies for how to proceed.

That evening, during dinner, Steve surprised us with an unexpected announcement. “Mom, I’m sorry to change plans, but the guys have invited me to a party for my birthday. We’ll have to reschedule our dinner. They’ve been planning this for a while, and I’d hate to let them down.”

Mom’s expression fell slightly, her disappointment evident, despite her effort to hide it. “That’s fine, dear,” she replied softly. “It’s important you spend time with your friends. Being cooped up here with us all the time isn’t good for you.”

I couldn’t hide my wide grin, knowing Denise had come through, after all.

Saturday afternoon arrived, and Steve left around four, dressed casually but with an unusual hint of anticipation in his demeanor. Earlier that morning, Denise had texted me her schedule and explained how she pulled it off. Though she had moved on and was now dating someone else, she had convinced Steve to go out to dinner with one of her friends, promising him a nice reward afterward.

Deep down, I suspected he felt guilty about turning Denise down in the past, which might have influenced his decision to agree to her terms. Plus, he was probably motivated due to my flirting all week—desperate to quelch his horny condition.

A few minutes after Steve’s departure, I approached Mom in the living room. She was lounging with a magazine, but her distracted flipping of the pages betrayed her restlessness. With a gentle smile and a pleading look, I suggested, “Why don’t we go out and eat tonight? Just the two of us. We can make it a girls’ night out. It’ll be fun!”

Mom raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised but intrigued. “A girls’ night out?” she asked, setting the magazine aside. “I can’t remember the last time I did that.”

“Exactly! It’s long overdue,” I said enthusiastically. “We’ll pick somewhere nice, enjoy a good meal, and maybe even sneak in a little dessert. What do you say?”

Mom hesitated for a brief moment before her face softened into a smile. “Alright, you’ve convinced me. Let me change, and we’ll head out. It’ll be good to spend time together, just us girls.”

As she rose from the couch and headed to her room, I felt a swell of satisfaction as the night was shaping up nicely. My unsuspecting mother would soon find herself unwittingly participating in the unraveling of my curiosity.

After dressing, I waited for Mom in the living room. As she strode out, I noticed her flushed face and when I was about to mention something, my eyes lowered to her thin blouse, barely concealing her braless breasts.

Noticeably larger than mine, I was impressed with how much they didn’t sag. Somehow, I thought all women over the age of thirty had low-hanging, pendulous bags of fun. Her large, dark brown areolas were discernible through the thin fabric. Awestruck by her display, I stood silent while my gaze remained fixated on her top.

“From your gawking, I take it that you’ve noticed my new look,” Mom said, giggling, jolting me out of my trance. “I decided to take you up on your suggestion to dress a little more provocatively and since it’s just us, I thought it’d be a perfect time to try it out. What do you think? Am I too old to be so brazen?”

“No, Mom,” I replied with a grin. “You look stunning. I might get a little jealous, though, if you end up stealing all the attention.”

Mom chuckled, stepping closer to the closet. She selected a delicate shawl and draped it elegantly over her shoulders. “Don’t worry, Mia,” she teased. “I’ll make sure you’re still the best catch.” Emphasizing her point, she adjusted her shawl to cover her thinly-veiled breasts.

After the hostess seated us at a cozy table in the restaurant, Mom removed her shawl and smiled warmly, her thinly-covered breasts catching my eye. As she picked up the menu to browse, I suggested, “Mom, why don’t you order a glass of wine to celebrate? I’m driving, so it’s the perfect time for you to treat yourself.”

She hesitated briefly, as though searching for a reason to decline, then nodded with a grin. “You’re right. This is the perfect opportunity—and, in a way, my coming-out party. Why not?”

By the time we were halfway through the meal, Mom ordered another glass to replace her empty one. The effects of the alcohol began to show, her laughter growing freer and her gestures more animated, a clear departure from her usual reserved demeanor.

As we finished, I fished my phone out of my purse, briefly looked at it, and explained, “Excuse me, Mom. I felt my phone vibrate—it’s from one of my close friends. Do you mind if I read her message?”

“Of course not, Mia,” she replied, her voice slightly slurred.

I pretended I was reading a message and after a minute, I pleaded, “I’m sorry, Mom. My friend needs me to help her out. I hate to drag you into this, but I promise it won’t take me too long. It’s on the way home and I don’t have time to take you home and return.”

“I don’t mind,” Mom replied, nodding. “It’s important for you to take care of your friends. I wouldn’t do anything to harm your relationships.”

After typing a fake message and sending it to myself, I shoved the phone into my purse and said, “All set, Mom. Thanks so much for allowing me to help my friend.”

On the drive to Denise’s house, Mom’s curiosity peaked. “What exactly do you have to do with your friend? It’s a little cold out and I hate to wait too long. Maybe I could go in with you or would that be too weird, showing up with your mother?”

Mom was making it easy for me. I had been struggling to figure out a way to spin her into my web. “It wouldn’t bother me, Mom, but it might you. I actually won’t be interacting with anyone. It’s kind of a one-man or rather one-woman job, but it may prove to be uncomfortable for you.”

“Oh, nonsense,” Mom blurted, with a tipsy smile. “I’m a big girl and would love to help out. You were the one who wanted me to get out more often.”

“Alrighty, but don’t say I didn’t warn you,” I replied, smiling widely.

Pulling up on a side street, I led Mom to the back of Denise’s house, and before I opened the back door, Mom jokingly whispered, “I feel like a burglar. Are you part of a gang?”

“No,” I whispered back. “Don’t say anything until I tell you.”

Holding her hand, I opened the door with my other and led Mom downstairs to the basement. It had been converted into a bedroom—Denise’s. Along one wall was a long, wide closet. Going to one end, I opened the door and stepped inside. After closing the door, I snapped on the light revealing two chairs facing a wall with a large hole about three feet off the floor.

Mom’s eyes blinked, adjusting to the sudden brightness, and then widened as she studied the wall, her grin broadening.

“Mom, I warned you, but let me explain what’s going on.”

Before I could continue, Mom bleated, “I’m not that old and definitely not that naive. That’s a glory hole and at some point, a guy’s junk will appear through it and he’ll expect some kind of relief.” Her expression transformed into a look of maternal reproach.

Attempting to recover, I quickly spun a lie. “I’m sorry, Mom, but my friend was in a tight spot. Several couples showed up to participate, but the last girl canceled at the last moment. She promised the guy that she’d do the best she could. I told her that I’d jerk the guy off, but that was it. You can face the other way until I’m done. It shouldn’t take long.”

Her face scrunched up as she thought about the situation and after a long sigh, relented, “It’s not like I haven’t seen one before, just been awhile. Maybe it’s time for a little remedial mother-daughter sex education to ensure you’re doing it right.” She giggled, sat down, and scooted closer to the wall.

While we waited, I reviewed the conversation I had with Denise concerning the night’s activity. I explained to her that a friend of mine at work had a huge crush on my brother and I persuaded her to set something up for them. When she offered several alternative meets, I suggested the glory hole, which she has used for several parties in the past. She hesitated, voicing her concern when I told her not to disclose anything to Steve, but finally agreed.