Chapter 5

I was halfway out the door when my brother stopped me again.

The orgasm I’d had that morning had really taken the edge off, but I was still horny, and so I’d called my boyfriend and organized to go around.

“Wait,” he said, and I stopped.

“What’s up?” I said, checking my phone for the time. If I didn’t leave in the next few minutes, I’d miss the bus, and my boyfriend had this thing about punctuality.

“This morning, in the kitchen ... it was so hot.”

“Yeah...” I said, suddenly blushing. There was something wrong with me - helping my brother out shouldn’t be hot - but I couldn’t deny that the risk of being caught had been a surprising turn-on.

“I’ve been thinking about it all day, and it’s gotten me so turned on that I bet I can cum.”

“Right now?” I asked, looking at my phone once more. If I left now - and ran - I could still make it ... but my brother needed my help.

I quickly made up my mind. As I texted my boyfriend and told him I was going to be late, I pulled my brother into the hallway closet. I quickly checked to make sure that Mom wasn’t going to catch us in the next few minutes, and shut the door.

It was pitch-black, but that was okay. If my brother was as turned on as he’d said, we could get this out of the way quickly, and he wouldn’t even have to look at me. Without hesitation, I unbuckled his pants, and wrapped my hand around his thick cock.

He gasped at my forwardness, and suddenly I became aware of what I was doing. I was touching my brother’s cock - my brother’s cock - in the middle of the house. What was I thinking?? What if Mom opened the door to get a coat, or heard a noise?

I opened my mouth to apologize, but before I could, I felt my brother’s hand on my wrist, and he started moving my hand for me. As it pumped up and down the hardness of my brother’s cock, I felt myself really getting into the rhythm.

Up and down. Up and down. Stroke, stroke, stroke ... After just a few seconds, all my stress, all my tension melted away. A peaceful inner voice told me how right this was, how helpful I was being ... I was helping my brother. I was helping my brother with a problem. That was all it was - there was nothing strange about helping my brother.

My phone buzzed in my other hand, and its screen briefly lit up the small room. Despite the darkness, I’d been staring at my own hand as it slowly but confidently pumped up and down my brother’s cock, but now I could see it, I could see its beauty. I could see how hard it was - how hard I had made it - and when my phone’s screen turned off, I was disappointed but could still see the image in my head.

Pump, pump, pump. Up and down and up and down. Stroke, stroke. Up and down.

The darkness and the hypnotic rhythm of my own hand took over, and I tuned out for a few minutes. Part of me wanted to play with myself, but at the same time I didn’t want to get distracted from the task at hand.

Making my brother cum was the most important thing I’d ever done - in many ways, it felt like the reason I existed. After all, I was a woman - every part of me was designed for a male’s pleasure. Every part of me existed to make men cum. My hands, my body ... my mouth.

Nothing else mattered as much as making my brother cum.

When I tuned back in again, my brother was zipping his jeans up once more. For a second, I almost asked if it had worked, if I’d managed to make him cum ... but no, of course i hadn’t. I would remember something as momentous as that. He didn’t say anything, just reached out and wiped the corner of my mouth with his thumb.

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled as he opened the door and peeked out to make sure that no one was there.

“It’s okay Hannah,” he said. “You did what you could.”

My mind was buzzing ... was there anything I could do to help my brother? As I went to the kitchen to get some water and wash the strange taste out of my mouth, I decided to cancel meeting my boyfriend. There was a more pressing matter at hand, and I had to work on fixing it.

That night, I again sneaked into my brother’s room. If we were going to solve this, I’d decided, we couldn’t just wait for opportunities to present themselves. We had to make opportunities, every chance we got, just as my brother had that morning.

He was a bit cranky when I woke him up, but as I explained my plan, was forced to agree that I was right.

“Do you want me to turn the light out?” he asked, but I shook my head. When the lights were out, it was too easy to lose focus - when I’d texted my boyfriend back that morning, I’d discovered that I’d lost almost half an hour. It hadn’t felt like nearly that long, but something about the darkness had really knocked me out.

The implied question that he didn’t ask was whether I should jerk him off, or whether he should do it himself. I was still struggling with the fact that wrapping my hand around my own brother’s cock had become almost normal, and so I decided to let him handle it.

I knew that the touch of a female hand was more likely to get him off, but the other factor in my visit was that I was worked up. I wanted to play with myself - mainly to help my brother out, of course, but also because I found it so much easier to get off when I was in a relaxed environment, like helping my brother get off.

He wasn’t hard, and so I took off my top and exposed my breasts to him, and it had the desired effect. I watched with a huge smile on my face as his cock hardened at the sight of me. After all, that was what my boobs were for - to get men hard.

Everything about me was there to get men hard. And what was my brother if not a man?

Slipping a finger between my pussy-lips, I was unsurprised to find that I was already soaked. I felt like I walked around in a state of arousal most of the time these days.

It makes sense, a small part of me insisted. When you’re wet, you’re ready to take a cock. And that’s your purpose - to take cocks inside you. To get men off. You exist to get men off. I tried to shoo those stray thoughts away, but they persisted. I was just trying to have a nice relaxing masturbation while helping my brother, and I didn’t want it to get weird ... but I couldn’t stop thinking about what a sexual being I was.

Your boobs are there to make men hard, I told myself, and couldn’t help but agree. As I repeatedly plunged my fingers inside myself, my boobs had a slight bounce to them, and while I didn’t want to take my eyes off the cock in front of me for a second, I would have bet anything that my chest was what my brother was staring at.

Your hands are there to jerk men off, I thought, feeling slightly guilty that I was making my brother do it himself. Still, touching his cock - a good cause though it was - was still new to me, and something felt wrong about touching myself at the same time as I touched him.