Add: 5 August 2015 / 18:18
I stayed a few steps behind Mom as we trudged into Church. The wind had kicked up since we left the house and my ears had begun to burn, my knees had gone a bit numb quite some time ago. Twice she turned to gripe at me for going too slow but I ignored her—I was looking for Brian.
Our parents married when I was only 10. Years later, much to my dismay, they divorced. Since our parent's divorced and our new living arrangements became standard, he and I missed each other more and more and not in a way relations—even step—should feel.
Since Mom and Dad divorced, the only time I could see Brian, my step-brother, was on Sunday Mornings and the odd occasion that Mom and Dad dared attempt to get along. Mostly church functions where good behavior was coerced by God.
I peered into groups and through car windows hoping to find him. He promised we'd sit together during service and I was going to hold him to it.
The moment Mom and I were through the front door of the Church I shivered from the warmth, it only made my fingers hurt more. Mom fussed at me to take my coat off but before she could rob me of it Ms Borne came with her pitched voice and open-arm hug, pulling her toward service.
“I'm sitting with Brian, Mom.”
She just nodded at me over her shoulder while they chatted madly about food preparations for after Church.
I looked around for Brian again, trying to find that lick of bright red hair. I only found Mrs Dapple--tall and slender with long gray hair wrapped in a bun.
“He's upstairs, dear.”
“Upstairs?” I scrunched my forehead as I tried to figure out why he was upstairs in the classroom wing when Church was about to start.
She pointed with a gloved finger straight up—to the balcony.
The rickety, creepy old balcony that had no heat during the winter. No one sat up there. I didn't even want to sit up there.
After patting my shoulder and telling me to hang my coat on the rack she left the foyer.
I stood at the base of the stairs—keeping a partial eye on the Ushers as not to draw attention to myself. From here I could see only the first few steps before they disappeared up the stairwell. Was he really up there or was this an effort to pull a prank? He was a bit too mature for that, right?
“Anna. Come on!” Brian's voice, a whisper that echoed, creeped me out for a moment.
Bravely, with a hand to the doorframe, I crept up the first few steps and peeked around the corner. He stood at the top, holding his hand out for me, his red hair and fair skin swallowed by shadows.
“Are you scared or something?”
Quickly, I headed up the stairs. My feet thunked loudly spite my efforts to be quiet. He took my hand and walked me up the rest of the way.
“Here.” He guided me into the first pew, right behind the railing nearest the stairs. The rail was so high we could only see between the decorative pinecone finials.
Grinning, feeling a bit bubbly, I snuggled against him as service began.
“Please rise for the invocation...,” the Reverend’s voice crackled in the speakers nearby. Reverend Maynard, Brian’s Grandfather, sounded much like Brian but with a heavier depth. Is that what Brian would sound like when he was older?
As I moved to stand Brian put a hand on my thigh to hold me down. “No. Because then they'll know we're up here.”
He smiled, warm and inviting, as I slid back in my seat. Without thinking I leaned over to kiss him on the cheek for that, just a fun little peck but it was something we hadn't done before. I pulled away, nervous. He studied me for a moment, his soft blue eyes searching mine, which made heat rush to my cheeks.
“Sorry,” I said. “That was rude.” I sat back, pretending to see his father preaching over the railing though all I could really see was the top row of the choir, their heads casting shadows at different heights.
He kept his hand on my thigh, though, as we sat still and pretended to listen. Warm heat spread through the fabric of my skirt, drawing more and more of my attention. The church filled with the sound of organ music and the congregation singing. I could have sworn the hand he had on my thigh slipped higher, just a tad.
I sat, my eyes unfocused and my heart drumming wildly over the contact that I knew should not be coming from my step-brother, trying to think of what to say or do next.
Should I stop him?
When I glanced at him he seemed equally conflicted except his eyes weren't staring out blankly. He was watching me with a strange haze of desirious confusion.
Not like I was a virgin, not that I hadn't made out before and rubbed and touched and got a guy off. I knew was a steady hand on the thigh meant. I knew that look in his eyes was something more than just 'gee shucks, sis'.
Making out with the choir instructor's son in the church foyeur had been bad enough. The idea of doing things like kissing or touching Brian felt so much more sinful. It *was sinful.
I thought that over while his eyes fell to my thigh and he squeezed his hand a little.
We didn't say anything, we didn't really need to. He leaned forward and looked to my mouth with obvious desire. His throat tensed as he swallowed. The distance between us—however narrow it was—seemed too monstrously far as we leaned toward each other. Both of us seemed to tap into the same concern because we hesitated and leaned back, but the new distance was unfavorable so we leaned toward each other again.
Kissing my step-brother. It had never happened before, not even in a game of Turth or Dare. Kissing Brian was like kissing a silky ribbon of candy. Sweet and smooth...warm. His warmth traveled through my lips, over my skin, chasing away the cold. Our tongues slid together, teasing and tasting in a way that made my jaw ache for more.
The hand he still held to my thigh traveled up slowly—the fabric tickling my skin as he went—until he was almost to the top, milimeters away from my pussy. I wanted to curl my hips forward and press against him but I didn't.
Instead, hesitant, imagining he might reject the idea, I reached across with my hand and snugged my fingers to the inside of his thigh. He moaned softly, so soft I couldn't hear it, but I could feel it in our kiss.
Though I hadn't touched him there yet, I knew he was hard from the way he shifted in his seat. The movement was slight, almost like he was asking me to reach higher and find the zipper of his slacks.
The gentle warm hum of things shifted and built. Warmth turning to heat, gentleness became more insistent and firm. I leaned into him, shifting to rub my tits against his arm.
When he paused our kiss to take a determined breath, he slid his hand up just enough to touch lightly to the very edge of my pussy through my skirt.
"We shouldn't," I told him, but I didn't go further than that.
"I want to. Let me."
I wanted to melt into my chair for him. I spread my legs a little and shifted my hips forward to invite him to go further, touch more. Fifty-fifty. I slid my hand higher up his thigh, feeling for the evidence of how turned on he was, loving that he was turned on just like me.
The sanctuary filled with organ music again and both of us were finally able to let sounds slip free. We kissed wetly and slid our hands higher to touch where we shouldn't touch—he slid his fingers against the wet slickness of my panties and I cupped his hot cock. Stroking and stroking, he drove me nearly mad. He sucked on my bottom lip and tickled it with his tongue. His lips were always so lovely, kissing them even lovelier.
The music died down and it was hard then to get quiet again.
Edgy, Brian turned just enough to see the stairs. With his eyes still away, me clinging to his arm and rubbing against him mindlessly, he slipped his fingers alongside the elastic of my panties. He skimmed along the stitched edge with short strokes seeming to work up the courage to slide them underneath.
"This is wrong," I told him but the words were half-hearted.
I urged him on with a flex of my hips, rubbing the slickness of my panties along his fingertips. He reached for my hand that was clasped to his crotch and pressed it, firm, to him. He looked to me, smiled with a lusty haze as he finally slid his fingers inside me.
His fingers in me, touching and reaching, and the flex of his wrist as he kept an eye out to avoid trouble...it was all such a thrilling, sweet turn on. I tightened my fingers on his cock through his slacks which offered little resistance. I stroked a bit harder but with care as not to hurt him. Music started again and we both moaned and kissed and kissed, hands stroking and thrusting.
A moment later, as the last organ note hung in the air, the dreadful sound of feet on the steps echoed, unmistakable even over the loud speaker. We snapped our hands back. I leaned forward to take up a hymnal from the book rack and opened it upside-down on my lap. Brian pulled an old bulletin from somewhere and leaned forward like me, clutching it in his hands.
Silently, I prayed and prayed that it wouldn’t be someone coming to sit with us. Please not a parent, not a child. Christ. *Go away, go away!
Neither of us looked to see who it was. From the edge of my vision I could see a head peeking over the railing from a person on a mission to see we were behaving. I assumed it was one of the Ushers, one of the few who knew we were even here. A moment later the person, believing their feet were quiet, crept away.
Brian and I both looked at each other and laughed quietly. Soon, he set his hand on my thigh again.
Pot-luck dinner. Sometimes a fun thing, sometimes not. When you're intoxicated with unsatisfied hormonal needs, it's usually not a fun thing. Brian managed o make it a bit more enjoyable.
He walked behind me in line making every effort to touch me in seemingly innocent ways: reaching for a serving spoon at the same time so that his fingers would brush against mine; leaning forward when he had to reach across the table for a sweet roll, letting his chest rub against my shoulder as he did so—every little effort only made me want to run off and kiss and touch some more.
When I turned to smile at him the look in his eyes told me that he knew was he was doing. No innocence what-so-ever was evident there.
That fun ended when we came to the end of the table. Mom was waiting for us, coffee in hand. After hugging Brian and telling him how much she missed him, she ushered me to our table which only had two empty seats.
Bored, my plate still full, Mom chatting with a newly-wed couple sitting close by, I looked around the room to find Brian. His Dad, my no-longer-step-father seemed to care far less about making him sit and eat. He was by the back door with his eyes intent on me sending, “Look at me, look at me, look at me,” signals.
I said nothing as I stood. On the way to the door two elderly members of the church interfered with my progress in order to make small chat about college and junk. I tried to be polite but I'm certain I was still rude in my effort to get away. Couldn't help it, didn't care.
Eventually, smiling and taking quick steps, I made it. He pulled me into the hallway, opened a narrow louver door that led to a small closest and pushed me inside. Shutting the door behind him he slid aside a short accordion style partition that only came as high as my knee. It was clear he intended for us both to crawl inside, but I hesitated. Playfully, he pinched my backside. I yelped and jumped forward.
“Now they'll come to check what that noise was. You've gotta go,” he joked playfully.
Typical brother, but he wasn't really that anymore, was he?
My mind in a muddle over what we were really doing, I dropped to my knees and shuffled through the dark opening. It was smooth, dark, and very cold inside. There was a bit of dust on the floor. I didn't go far, unsure of where we even were. But as he crawled past me, brushing against me like a slithering snake, I moved aside and let him lead. It took a while for my eyes to adjust to the small amount of light that poured in from long, narrow cracks in the distance.
I had to study these stretched out ribbons for a while before I eventually got it. We were under the stage that occupied the far end of the Fellowship Hall. The light came through cracks in the steps. Everyone was eating and talking mere feet on the other side.
“How long do you think you've got?” he asked.
He stopped and let me crawl alongside him. “Mom'll help clean up so I've got a while.”
“Good.” He rolled onto his back, stretching his arms far out overhead.
Not feeling quite as free, I laid on my side, hissing at the cold floor, and held my head in my hand, reaching for him with the other. We lay, touching each other lightly for a bit.
In the dark privacy things were easier. We had already kissed and touched a little so the kiss that happened this time wasn't hesitant like earlier during church service. This was strong and bold and hot from the very start. I wrapped my hand around his arm and he reached out to hold my side, squeezing and pulling at the fabric of my dress.
When I left for the walk to church with Mom this was not even close to what I imagined would happen today. Sundays were never this much fun before.
He shifted and pushed against my body with his until I was on my back. Sighing, trying to keep quiet, I spread my legs so he could fit between. He pressed and rubbed against me, the grit of his zippered fly running along my pussy in a way that snagged my clothes and made me squirm. I lifted my hips to put more pressure against his cock as he moved against me.
I loved the way he felt over me. Somewhere inside I was probably a little worried about the lines we were crossing--which clearly I didn't care too much about--and the fact that we spent most of our lives together, glued at the hip like brothers and sisters often are--again, not that I seemed to care all of a sudden. Knowing we shouldn't do any of this only made me want him more.
He seemed more brave in the dark, too, because there was no hesitation behind the effort to reached down and slide his hand along my leg. He drew up the hem of my skirt, skating his fingernails over my skin, making me shiver. His hips sped, pressing and grinding against me, warming me up all over. I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him close.
After another kiss, and another, he braced his hands on the floor to push himself away. I could see his face just a little in the dim light. “How far do you want to go?”
I shrugged. “As far as you want to go.”
He pressed his cock against me hard and slow. “I want to play with your tits.”
“You'll have to unzip my dress.”
He moved to the side so I could sit up a bit.
“Jesus...really?” he said, now sounding unsure of himself.
I pushed up and turned to the side, presenting my back to him. I gathered my hair over my shoulder, clutching it with one hand, while he pulled the zipper down. I shuddered as cool air reached inside my dress. He kissed the cold away bit by bit in a way that I'd only read of in books. By the time my zipper was the whole way down he had kissed the length of my back, making me more delirious with each touch. I bit my lip to keep from making noises, all the more aware of people not too far away. I looked to the side and watched as legs passed by the steps, blocking out the light.
Brian slid my straps from my shoulders and felt all along my back with his fingers. I rolled over again, settling in where the floor was warm underneath me. I slipped my fingers inside my dress straps and shuffled them down.
“You sure?” he asked.
I nodded and grabbed hold of his shirt, tugging on it to pull it off. He leaned back and quickly slipped it off. The rush of his shirt sent a breath of cold air over me. I shivered. The air was cold but his body was incredibly warm. I felt all along his chest, touching his nipples to see how he’d respond—he thrust against me again. And then I felt along the curves of his shoulders and arms, so inviting. I could touch him like this all day. If only....
He kissed me again, roughly, moaning just enough for me to feel. His chest rubbed against mine and I locked my ankles around his legs, needing more.
Sighing, Brian pushed away from me, the cold air teased my tits, making my nipples draw tighter, and after a moment that tight, tingling sensation was matched with the probing touch of his fingers. He circled one tip with his fingers while cupping the other with his hand. He leaned down to kiss me before kissing down my neck and slowly over my collar bone—sending sharp darts of pleasure all over—and then he kissed and sucked his way to my breast. Instead of fingers, I felt his mouth. Nice and hot, sucking and tugging as he twirled his tongue around and then drew the tip deep into his mouth. He let go with a satisfying groan and then kept that side warm with his fingers as he tended to the other in the same way.
I clung to him, moaning softly, drifting away with whatever attention he wanted to give. He could play with me however he wanted. Every touch drove me crazy and made my pussy pulse and ache.
“Jesus, Anna.” He pinched both nipples between his fingers and pulled gently as he pressed his face in between. “I really want you.”
My hands fell from his back as footsteps thumped right above us.
“I don't think we should, here.” But that didn't keep my hips from moving against him.
“I need to get off. Don't you need to?”
The wet pulse between my legs couldn't be ignored. I wrapped my arms tight around him.
“Please, Anna. I really need to fuck you.”
He kissed me roughly as I pushed up from the floor, wrapping my arms around him and twisting and pushing until he was sitting, his head just barely missing the ceiling.
“Okay.... Only if I can be on top.” I paused, my hand over his shoulder and my fingers in his hair.
After a long moment where the only sounds were people laughing and talking through the cracks he leaned back a bit more and reached for me. “I'd be stupid to say no to that.”
Smiling, I crawled forward, slipping my dress down as I went. I couldn't see him very well but I could hear him undo his zipper and shove his pants down a bit. Leaving the slippery fabric behind I crawled between his legs. He groaned, almost sounding like he was in pain, when I felt in the dark for his leg and then slid my hand up to find his cock. There was no barrier of fabric in the way, now.
That moment when I took his stiff cock in my hand for the first time, touching the naughtiest of places, was such a thrilling shift from one thing to another. It was like getting a sense of what kind of a person he was, being given permission to know him this way.
He wasn't too big like some scary toys I'd seen on a website, he wasn't really small, either. Just a nice size to hold and stroke and give attention to.
And from the way his stomach rippled and his breath came hard and fast I knew it felt really good for him.
How had I gone for so long without ever thinking of him like this? I don't know, but I regretted it. Years wasted and now we could only be together once a week.
He pulled me close, bringing me up onto his lap, my hand still stroking and stroking. He reached between us and slipped his fingers up my thigh and to my pussy. It was so wrong and so good—being naked together in the church with everyone not too far away, under the very stage where Christmas pageants were held. Yes, this was wrong in so many ways. Was the Devil looking?
I kissed him again as he rubbed my slit with nice, long circles. Every moment of this could last and last, but we both seemed to sense the clock ticking.
There was just enough room overhead for me to raise up the few inches needed in order for me to position his cock underneath me. I held myself steady, touching the tip to my spread lips for a moment. Just that little bit of contact was pleasant and I let him know by moaning near his ear.
His body jerked against me. “Damnit, Anna. That feels intense and I'm not even inside you yet.”
Slowly, wrapping my arms around his neck and shoulders, I lowered myself onto him nice and smooth. The sensation that came with taking him in for the first time, that sense of 'finally' and that want for it to last and last—I enjoyed every moment of that feeling. When I had taken him in all the way, having crossed all the religious and moral lines possible to cross, I leaned back and looked at him, the light just barely making his face visible.
I lifted myself up—loving that gentle pull—and then eased down on him again only with a bit more effort this time. Having him beneath me, between my legs, inside me, sent such pleasant heat through me. I lifted up again and dropped down quickly, careful not to make too much noise.
He brought one hand to my waist, running his thumb over my skin slowly, and the next time I brought myself down he lifted himself up to meet me. I reached for his shoulders to steady myself and we fell into a rhythm together.
Again.... And again.
The heat between us had sweat running down my cheeks. Everything drifted for a bit, lost in that state of intoxication where time disappears and all that's left is sensation. His hands on my back, slick with sweat against my bare skin, the intense heat of his body against mine, the way my tits rubbed against his chest.
He leaned back, slow, and lowered himself to the floor. I smiled through the dark and ran my hands along his chest and across his stomach, feeling rather than seeing the way he looked. Nice smooth skin, a bit of muscle here and there that flexed as I fucked myself on him. He cupped my hips with his hands and then teasing and tickled my skin on the way to my tits.
If I could have I would have told him how good he felt, how much I loved feeling him inside me, how close I was to coming, but there were footsteps overhead again. I sucked on my bottom lip instead, pinching his own nipples, worried that if I opened my mouth I'd groan or moan or call out God's name and get zapped with a lightening bolt. The floor above creaked and creaked.
Brian lifted up from the floor a bit, chuckling a little. “Hot, isn't it? Fucking just inches away from someone and they don't even know it.”
I kissed him quick and madly for that.
“Do something for me. Rub your clit.”
I shook my head, not wanting to risk breaking my silence.
“Please,” he begged. “You've gotta come first.”
Christ, begging was like Cherry on the Sunday. I dragged my fingers down his chest and over his stomach and then slipped my fingers between us, just barely touching my clit. The contact made my body jolt a little and I clenched tight around him.
“God that's hot. That's it. Get yourself off.... Fuck.”
Eyes on his, I gripped his chest and leaned into him, stroking my clit and pressing against him to build friction. Brian thrust into me as he squeezed my hips and pushed me down. A tense energy grew, taking hold in my fingers. With a gasp I couldn't hold back I came, dropping my face down to his chest as I trapped my hand between us and rocked my clit against it to built the friction I needed. His heartbeat through his skin and the taste of his sweat on my tongue made me feel wrapped up with him, tangled together... God, I really liked our tangle.
I relaxed against him, letting the aftershocks zip through me, enjoying how it felt to have him still-hard inside me. It was like the contact inside made my orgasm last longer.
He let me go for a few moments, his hands feeling along the smooth of my back, before he pushed up on one hand, holding me tight to his chest. As if we were synchronized together, we both shifted and moved until he was on top of me, caging me in and kissing me deeply before slipping himself inside me again.
Without the distracting and driving need for my own orgasm I was able to cling to him and take in all the many things about him—the way each thrust of him inside me roughed my back against the cool floor, his hair and how it danced and glinted dark in the ribbons of light, the frantic pulse just under the skin of his neck, and how he felt so sturdy and delightful between my legs.
Breathing hard, he pulled out and pressed his lips against mine as he jerked at his cock. He seemed mindless with intense passion as he did it. Breathing in my breath, he shuddered against me. His neck tensed and pulsed and I wished so much to be able to turn on a light and see everything. Just feeling him as he came on my stomach was a wicked sin—like being a voyeur of my own sex show.
Breathing hard, he let the pulse of his hand slow until he was just nursing the ache.
“Jesus.” He kissed my cheek and then my mouth before dropping down on me, holding himself up just enough so I could breath.
I giggled and wrapped my arms tightly around him.
After a while of laying together we came into awareness of everything not too far away—chairs being snapped closed, table legs twanging into place. He was considerate enough to have brought a napkin, apparently having anticipated or at least hoping for the happy outcome. It was crinkled and cold from being in his pocket. He wiped at my stomach and then tossed it away.
Lazily, we kissed and kissed before pulling on clothes. It took a while to get fully dressed as every chance we could we touched and caressed. I didn't want it to end and neither did he.
Inside the small closet the sound of dishes clinking was much louder. I pressed against the wall as he crawled out from our little naughty place.
“We need to do that again,” he said while he felt the smooth of my ass with heated hands. “As soon as possible.”
“God, yes. As soon and as often possible.”