I was lying on my bed with my legs spread wide under the thin covers, phone long forgotten in one hand while the other circled my swollen clit through my completely soaked thong. My breath was shaky and ragged. God, I was so fucking wet. Not the cute, dainty kind of wet girls get when they’re a little turned on. This was the messy, aching, can’t-think-straight, pussy-drooling kind of wet that left me embarrassed even when I was alone in my own room.

My thong was plastered to my folds like a second skin, the thin black fabric dark and shiny, completely drenched with my thick, creamy arousal. Every tiny movement made my swollen clit throb angrily against the soaked material, sending sharp little shocks of desperate need through my whole body. I could feel how puffy and sensitive my pussy had become, how my inner folds were sticking together slickly with how much I was creaming. “mmm ... so wet ... ngh!”

The house was quiet except for the muffled sounds bleeding through the wall from his room; sharp gunshots, explosions, and his deep, cocky voice muttering “fuck yeah” every time he got a kill. My little brother. Eighteen now. Voice deeper than it used to be. Shoulders broader. That stupid, innocent, heart-melting smile he gave me at dinner like he had no idea he was making his big sister’s cunt throb and leak under the table the entire meal.

I’d been wet for hours. Since I saw him walk out of the bathroom earlier wearing nothing but a towel slung dangerously low on his hips, water still dripping down his chest and abs. “so fucking hot!” Those gray sweatpants hanging so low I could see the sharp V of his hips and the soft, heavy outline of his cock shifting when he laughed at something on his phone. That innocent little bulge that used to mean absolutely nothing to me. Now it made my mouth water and my pussy clench so hard it actually hurt.

I’d tried so hard to ignore it. Scrolled TikTok mindlessly for almost an hour. Watched dumb videos. Even tried to touch myself earlier and forced myself to stop halfway like a good big sister should. But every single time I closed my eyes, there he was; shirtless in the hallway, sweatpants hanging low, that soft bulge swaying with every step. The same little brother I used to boss around and tease mercilessly when we were younger. The one whose dirty laundry I’d been secretly stealing for months now, burying my face in his worn boxers and hoodies while I fingered myself like a depraved fucking creep in my own room, inhaling his scent until I came shaking and guilty. God, forgive me for I’m a slut!

My fingers slipped under the drenched fabric of my thong and pushed inside me. Two fingers slid in with almost no resistance; I was that soaked. Thick, warm, creamy slick immediately coated my knuckles as I pumped them slowly in and out. My pussy made soft, wet, obscene squelching sounds with every thrust, it reminded me of the noise wet slime used to make when we were little ... insane that I had that reference in my head right now ... I could feel my walls fluttering and squeezing greedily around my own fingers, desperate for something thicker, something real.

“This is so fucking wrong,” I whispered desperately to the empty room, voice cracking with shame. But my hips rolled anyway, pushing my fingers deeper, chasing that filthy pleasure. You’re finger-fucking your own cunt while fantasizing about your baby brother. The guilt twisted in my stomach ... and my pussy clenched even harder around my fingers because of it, gushing more warm cream down my hand and onto the sheets.

I pictured his mouth instead of my fingers. That soft, full lower lip. “Ah...! yess” The way he’d probably look up at me from between my thighs; first shocked, then hungry, eager to please his big sister like the good boy he’d always been. God, he would be so good for me, won’t you lil bro! My clit was swollen and pulsing hard against my thumb. I was so close. My thighs were trembling uncontrollably. My nipples were painfully hard, aching under my shirt like they were begging to be sucked and bitten.

Then I heard him laugh through the wall; loud, boyish, happy and something deep inside me finally snapped.

I didn’t let myself cum.

I yanked my fingers out with a wet, filthy sound, wiped the thick, stringy cream on my inner thigh, and sat up on shaky legs. My heart was pounding so hard it felt like it was going to explode out of my chest. This is insane. He’s your brother. Your little brother. But my pussy was clenching and fluttering around nothing, aching so badly it actually hurt — empty, greedy, and leaking fresh warm cream steadily down my thigh like a desperate, pathetic slut who couldn’t control herself anymore.

I was about to walk into his room and put my dripping cunt in his face. The same face I used to wipe clean after he ate ice cream as a kid. The same boy I promised Mom I’d always look out for. The same kid who used to crawl into my bed during thunderstorms because he was scared of the dark and trusted me more than anyone else in the world. And here I was, soaked and shaking, ready to ruin both of us. The shame burned so hot it made my nipples tighten even more.

I didn’t bother putting on shorts. I stayed in just the oversized band tee I was already wearing — nothing underneath except the tiny black thong that was now completely ruined, sticking obscenely between my puffy, dripping folds. My nipples were rock-hard, poking obviously against the thin cotton like they were begging to be sucked and bitten by the same mouth I was about to ruin.

I could smell myself in the air around me. Mmmhh ... Hnn ... sweet, horny, slightly musky. The unmistakable scent of a big sister who was dangerously close to crossing a line she could never uncross.

Good. Let him smell how wet his big sister is for him. Let him know exactly what he does to me.

I walked down the hall on bare feet, thighs slick and sliding wetly against each other with every single step. My swollen pussy lips felt hot and puffy, rubbing and sliding together obscenely with every movement. The thong was wedged tight between my folds, rubbing my sensitive clit relentlessly and forcing me to bite my lip hard to stop myself from moaning out loud. A fresh, warm trickle of my cream ran slowly down the inside of my thigh all the way to my knee, making me feel dirty and exposed.

By the time I reached his door, my hands were shaking uncontrollably. My breathing was fast and shallow. My pussy was throbbing so hard it felt like a second heartbeat between my legs, begging to be filled by the one person who should never, ever touch me. I kept seeing that little boy version of him in my head — the one who used to fall asleep with his head on my shoulder while I read him comics — and it made my cunt clench harder, not softer. The contradiction was sick and perfect.

I didn’t knock.

I just pushed his door open and stepped inside, my bare feet silent on the carpet.

He was sitting at his desk, headset on, controller moving fast in his hands, completely locked into his game. The room smelled strongly of him; warm boy sweat mixed with faint energy drink sweetness, and that deep, familiar skin scent that always made my stomach flip and my pussy clench with forbidden need. He glanced over when I entered, eyebrows lifting in mild surprise, still half-focused on the screen.

“What’s up?” he asked, voice casual, like it was any normal night.

“Nothing,” I said. My voice came out low and rough, almost hoarse with how badly I was aching.

I walked straight to his desk and hopped up on the edge, right next to his monitor. The cool wood pressed against the backs of my bare thighs and made me shiver. He paused the game. The room went suddenly, dangerously quiet except for the sound of his PC fans and the sound of my own heartbeat hammering wildly in my ears.