Copyright 2013 Pandora Box
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At My Brother's Beck and Call
by Pandora Box
I was halfway through giving my step-brother a blow-job when I realized how hot what we were doing was.
Not that I let it slow me down, of course. Ever since Michael came into my room and had a long talk with me about a man's needs, I've made sure that everything I do turns him on. I basically threw out my wardrobe, and we spent about an hour shopping online. Mom gave me a funny look when I started wearing practically nothing around the house, but Michael had a quick talk to her, and she quickly came around.
The whole time we were shopping, he was exploring my body with his hands for the first time. Now it's a commonplace thing - as soon as I get home, I go into his room, let him touch me wherever he wants, and if he wants some head, give it to him straight away.
But for whatever reason, on that occasion, it occurred to me that what I was doing was...well, kind of sexy.
Is it wrong to think that? I mean, he's my brother, for goodness sake. I'm not some kind of freak...but when you're going down on someone every day (often twice a day) and their hands are running over your skin, playing with your nipples, cupping your ass and occasionally even brushing over your pussy...it's natural to get a little bit turned on.
Right?
I'd thought that I was putting everything that I could into my brother's blow-jobs, but as my pussy began to heat up at the mental image of what we were doing, I somehow managed to double my efforts. My mouth become nothing but a wet hole for Michael to fuck, and each time he thrust, I punctuated it with a sexy little moan.
Totally involuntarily, of course. I didn't want him to think I was some kind of sicko.
After he came, I opened my mouth to show him his cum, and then swallowed it down, like a good little sister. He pushed me away - he often gets a bit stand-offish after his orgasm - and I made myself scarce. I mean, I exist to serve his needs, and if he doesn't want me around, why would I defy him?
For the first time though, I went back into my room, and started to play with myself. I've masturbated for years now, and servicing Michael hasn't changed my habits one way or the other...but now that the spark had been lit, the idea of being Michael's half-naked little sex slut was suddenly really erotic, and it was just a few minutes later that my pussy was clenching around my fingers, my back arching in pleasure.
I immediately felt guilty...how could I not? All Michael asked me to do was ensure that he's sexually satisfied at all time, and here I was turning it into some weird erotic thing. I had a shower straight after (leaving the door open, as usual, in case Michael decides that he wants to watch his slut clean herself off) and when I was done, I felt much better.
It's like...it's like if I were the poison-taster for a king. Sure, my job is to make sure that the king doesn't get poisoned...but is it wrong to enjoy the food?
Being Michael's sex-slave is just something that I'm obliged to do. Even if I hated every second of it, I'd still have to kneel before him and let him cum on my tits if he wanted to...that's just the way of things. The fact that I enjoy it...it's an unexpected perk, and I shouldn't beat myself up about it.
I was feeling much better, and to make sure that things weren't weird, I knocked on Michael's door. He was alone with Mom, so I waited about fifteen minutes until she left, and then went in. I was still naked, from the shower, and I offered him a choice of what sexy lingerie I should wear for dinner that night.
To be totally honest, a tiny part of me was hoping that he'd be hard at the sight of me, but it seemed like he was all done for the day. I still got a bit of a sexy thrill when he chose what I should wear, and when we all sat down for dinner, that little thrill stayed with
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