Brotherly Love
Chapter 6

Copyright© 2017 by Its a Kilt, Not a Skirt

Incest Sex Story: Chapter 6 - Sixteen year-old Bryna has a secret voyeuristic side, and regularly watches her hunky older brother Jason get off. He discovers her secret by accident and their relationship gets spicier than it "should."

Caution: This Incest Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/ft   Teenagers   Consensual   Romantic   Heterosexual   Incest   Brother   Sister   Cream Pie   First   Masturbation   Oral Sex   Petting   Pregnancy   Squirting   Voyeurism   Small Breasts   Slow  

Jason enjoyed my pregnancy. He deeply loved the fact that I was pregnant, and the fact that he was the one to have been responsible for the swelling of my belly.

Already he loved my breasts, but when they eventually became swollen to twice their original size with milk, he loved to play with them and touch them even more. But that was later--now, there was barely the slight soreness that signalled their impending growth.

His appetite to love my body increased after we discovered my “condition,” and more so when outward signs of it began to show. I attribute his hunger, before and after, to the thick Scot’s blood flowing hot in our veins only two generations back--and the Scots always knew what to do with their spare time, and what the best way to keep warm in bed was.

We didn’t try to tell our parents. We were leaving, so what was the point?

Jason, having graduated before the summer, had prospects, colleges, and a real talent in the garden if he needed a proper job. In the meantime, he had one which he liked fairly well, and it was money for our savings, so no one was complaining.

There were other high schools in other towns and provinces. I could finish my last two years somewhere else.

It had been decided that we’d go a province over and find a small town, acting as if we were a young couple--that much was true--but we hadn’t decided if we would masquerade as married or not yet. Was it too risky? How would we explain identification?

But it was all planned out, and ready at a moment’s notice. I was worried a little on our parents’ reaction to our note and our leaving, and I think that privately, so was Jason--but we’d made up our minds and they weren’t about to be changed.

I’d taken up knitting as of late; any way to save money and make clothes for the baby, little bonnets and sleepers and such. I did this privately, practising my tension by knitting a rectangle over and over again, after supper in the solace of my room.

Jason and I took whatever chance we could for intimacy. We became rather more daring as time went on. For example, I would make an excuse that I was going down to Tom’s, or some place like that. Then I would wait, and creep back up to the bathroom where Jason was waiting for me to shower.

We would wash each other, smiling and kissing softly, not even daring the softest of whispers, but communicating only through eyes, face, and touch.

We had learned to make love in the shower as well, and while it was neither extremely comfortable or intimate, it was not overly complicated to execute, and it was what we usually could accomplish. Alone time was hard to come by, and sneaking love in the shower, especially with Jason’s heightened appetite, was completely necessary.

There had originally been the conundrum of our height difference, but after some difficulty, that was solved. I couldn’t bend over, so he could mount me from behind; I was too short. It was too slippery and the shower too short as well for Jason to lift me and press me against the wall and make love to me like that. Eventually we found that if I put one foot up on the edge of the shower and braced myself a little on the wall, and Jason bent at his knees behind me, beneath my hips, and thrust up shortly and rather awkwardly, into me, it worked. This was difficult for his knees, after a time, but that eventually passed. This lovemaking was aided by the fact that, usually, when we resorted to loving in the shower, we were desperate for the joining of our bodies, and release did not take long in coming.


Jason led me gently to our bed.

‘Please, Bryna, let me take care of you,’ he said softly.

I had been irritable and sore all day, and waved his hand away dismissively. ‘I’m fine, Jason!’

‘No, you’re not. Here.’ He helped me to lie on my back, which was sore even with the child virtually unnoticeable in my belly, and slipped off my shoes. Sitting alongside my body on the bed, he pulled my bare feet into his lap and began to knead them determinedly.

Truly, it felt wonderful, and I sighed, closing my eyes and relaxing--slightly moaning--at the feeling.

‘Ankles too--please,’ I breathed, not opening my eyes. Obligingly he moved up, massaging around my Achilles heel and sore, reddened ankles.

‘Wait,’ he suddenly said, and I didn’t open my eyes as he stood up and walked away--presumably to get something.

He was back in a minute, taking my feet onto his lap again. Then, I heard him twist something open, and one of my eyes peered out suspiciously at him. ‘What’s that?’

It was some sort of pot--sort of like the kind you’d buy mayonnaise in, with the same twist-off lid. It looked like it had mayonnaise in it, too, some sort of oily white creamy substance, but slightly translucent, and where mayo has a yellow tinge, this was perfectly white.

‘It’s coconut oil,’ Jason replied, and suddenly the scent reached my nose. ‘You can tan with it, too, if you like. But it’s a good massage oil--and it’s even better than olive oil for soft skin.’ Briefly, he winked, and then went back to the pot, scooping some of the creamy substance onto his fingers and settling it into his palms. Even lying back against the pillow I could see it begin to “melt”--losing its colour and becoming more liquid, as one would expect an oil to look.

‘On a few other notes of interest,’ he continued, warming the oil in cupped palms, ‘it’s also used as an antiseptic. Lately it’s been popularized as a safe, natural, obviously oil-based lube.’

Now both my eyes were open, and I surveyed the pot with new interest. ‘So much in just that oil,’ I mused, as Jason began to rub my feet with the oil in his hands.

I looked directly at him, not embarrassed a wit as I asked, out of genuine curiosity, ‘Are WE going to use it as lube?’

‘Actually, no,’ Jason said. ‘I mean, I’d like to. It smells great. But I did some research, and the antiseptic quality of the oil means that it can put your pussy’s pH scale out of whack.’

‘Shucks,’ I sighed, closing my eyes again. ‘And it smells so wonderful too.’

‘We can still enjoy the oil without using it as lube,’ Jason reminded me.

I smiled. ‘That’s absolutely true.’ Bracing myself, I sat up slowly and peeled off my shirt, tossing it somewhere off the bed. ‘When you’re done with my feet, please do my back as well.’

I lay back again, closing my eyes, and felt his gaze lingering on my breasts with longing as he continued to rub my feet.

When he was done, he stood up and gently set my feet down. I assumed he was coming up to massage my back, and didn’t open my eyes. They didn’t even open when I felt the hotness of Jason’s mouth close over my nipple, his hand gently cupping my other breast.

Instead, I sighed, wiggling comfortably, my fingers tangled into his curls. ‘Mmmm. You really like to suckle at my breasts.’

Jason laughed, letting my nipple slide out over his lips. ‘Yeah, I do. They just look so tasty.’

Reluctantly, he disengaged himself from my breasts, climbing up onto the bed behind me. ‘Please turn over, Bryna.’

I did, groaning softly at the pain it caused me to move in such a way, and Jason sat gently on my thighs, beginning to knead my back.

The knots in my muscles loosened, and the pain in my vertebrae lessened. Exhaling noisily, I relaxed completely, drooling slightly in utter contentment.

‘Mmm. Thank you,’ I murmured, half drunk on my languorous sleepiness, as Jason finished.

Gently, he turned me over, and without a word kissed me firmly on the mouth. I had been expecting this to some degree, and surrendered myself completely and immediately to his embraces.

My mouth opened beneath his persistent lips, and he stroked my tongue with his own, quietly moaning into my mouth.

My own hunger had been affected by pregnancy, and my fingers eagerly sought out his skin, grasping the hem of his t-shirt and pulling it unceremoniously over my brother’s auburn head. Smoothing my palms over the firmness of his stomach and chest, we continued to tumble around on the bed, exchanging fiery kisses.

Desperately I fumbled with the clasp of his jean shorts, not able to see or have time to look, only feeling for the small metal button. Eventually it did unhook, and I unzipped his fly as well, immediately afterwards slipping my hand inside the shorts. Jason’s boxers were incredibly soft as I slid my hand around the front, gently cupping his confined, erect cock, and soft warm sacs of testicles.

As we continued the lip lock and I my exploration, Jason’s breathing became greatly laboured, and as I stroked a tender hand along the outline of his member, he moaned quietly.

The space I’d created in undoing his shorts became inadequate and confining, and I pushed the garment down his hips, and he helped me by kicking them off his ankles somewhere onto the floor. My own shorts were next, and he was rather violent in the removing of them, crazed with need.

 
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