Chapter 6

Friday Morning

I woke up with two worries: I was afraid that my holes would still be sore, and that my tit-size would have grown once again ... I was half right.

The D-cup bra that I’d bought yesterday was already too small for me, but my ass and pussy felt great. I pirouetted in front of the mirror, admiring my ample rear - had it, too, grown? - and wondered why I wasn’t sore. Maybe Marty would be able to ... Marty.

The second that my brother’s face popped into my head, my pussy grew wet, and my nipples perked up. I was an E-cup now, at the very least, and that meant ... oh god.

I was a freak. I was the kind of girl who’d sleep with my brother without a second thought. Hell, I’d only been awake for a few minutes, and already the idea was incredibly appealing ... Collapsing backward onto my bed, I tried not to think about my brother in a sexual light. He was just my brother, I told myself, and just because my breasts were one size bigger was no reason to stop thinking of him as a sibling ... all I had to do was remember that he was just my sexy older brother, and nothing more.

Wait, no. Not sexy. That wasn’t what I was trying to ... I shut my eyes and took a deep breath. Here was what I was going to do: I was going to get up, go downstairs, and sit down in front of my brother. I was going to try to ignore the way he’d inevitably stare at my tits, or the way that my body would respond ... I wasn’t going to let his long, lingering glances at my chest affect my behavior.

I certainly wasn’t going to pull my shirt up and let him have a look. My body was not there to please my brother, and when I saw the outline of his erection pushing against his jeans, I wasn’t going to get down on my knees and fish it out, wrap my lips around it, and let Marty fuck my face until he was shooting his precious, precious cum deep into my throat ... Somehow, while telling myself what I wasn’t going to do, my hand had slipped between my legs, and started stroking up and down my sensitive pussy-lips. At least, I thought, my other hand was just resting casually on my breast, and not pulling at my nipples ... although, of course, my new E-cups were apparently so sensitive that just resting there was enough to get me excited.

A few seconds later, I was cumming around my hand, wondering if my brother liked going out with D-cup girls so that he could take their asses. After Patrick and I had finished up in the empty classrooms, I’d managed to persuade two more footballers to sneak away with me and take my ass, and then when I’d gotten home, I’d noticed my forty-year old neighbor staring at me as I walked down the sidewalk.

Staring was rude, but somehow if felt like it would have been more rude not to take him inside and make him fill my ass up with his seed. Twice.

After that, it had been a relatively quiet evening. I’d spent slightly too much time experimenting with various phallus-shaped objects around the house, and had quickly discovered the delight of double-penetration. Believe me, you haven’t known masturbation until you’ve had a cucumber up your butt while slowly sliding a glass rolling-pin inside your freshly-shaved pussy ... I shook my head. I was getting distracted. I’d had a nice morning masturbation session, and that, surely, would be enough to ensure that I could hang around my brother without getting fixated on the long, smooth cock that he was hiding beneath his pants ... Just as I’d expected, Marty stared at me as I descended the stairs. I was wearing a vest - normally it would be worn over a shirt, but none of my clothes would fit over my enormous new bosom, and so I’d decided to wear the vest by itself. It didn’t expose anything ... unless, of course, I moved.

(I was making sure to move as much as possible.) At the back of my wardrobe, I’d managed to find an insanely short skirt ... actually, I believe I may have bought it to use as a belt. Whatever the original intent, it really showed off the curves of my ass, and my pussy mound. It went really well with the platform shoes that I’d borrowed from Mom’s wardrobe - I don’t think she’d worn them for more than twenty years, but luckily for me, she never throws anything away.

Marty gaped at the sight of me, and when I was at the bottom of the stairs, I wrapped my hands around his torso, pulled him toward me, and passionately kissed him good morning. For all his smooth moves with his nightly dates, he didn’t seem to have anything to say to that, and it was only when I pulled out of the kiss that I remembered that a few minutes of making out wasn’t our standard sibling greeting ... Crap.

Reluctantly removing Marty’s hands from my mostly-exposed ass, I sat down on the stool, and tried to think of what I’d have done on any other day. My tits were interfering with my thinking, however, and making it hard to remember what was normal and what wasn’t. A nice, normal, sister-to-brother blow-job? Did he normally spank me, to break the ice? Or did we just skip the formalities and go straight to him sliding that cock inside his sister’s cunt, pumping in and out until I was full of his cream ... I shut my eyes and tried to remember what Marty’s cock tasted like. I could imagine it easily enough, but I couldn’t remember the flavor, and that was the clue that I needed - I didn’t normally blow him.

When I opened my eyes again, I realized that my vest had flipped open, exposing my pink nipples to Marty’s touch. He was standing in front of me, caressing them in awe.