Unspoken Pleasure (erotica)

“Dylan, come here.”

My older sister, Lucy, was lying on the floor of her bedroom. She was on her stomach, wearing only a t-shirt and panties. She had a pillow under her groin, folded at the corner. She held herself in a backwards arch, like doing a cobra pose in yoga. Her body trembled with effort. Her cute, round face was cherry red. Her light blue eyes glazed over and oddly empty.

I’d been lost in my own world, walking down the hall, when Lucy called out to me. It was a hot day, summer was just getting started, and I was already suffering under the sad reality that our new house didn’t have air conditioning. My minimal outfit of a t-shirt and mesh shorts felt like a full, fur coat.

“You should. Try this,” Lucy gasped, “Feels really good.” She took a deep breath and collapsed flat on the floor. “Fuck.” The word slipped out of her. Her long, golden blonde hair pooled around her head.

I stared at Lucy as she lost herself for a moment. My older sister’s skimpy outfit revealed way more of her curvy body and tan skin than I was used to seeing. Her breasts looked particularly large in her baby blue v-neck. Her full butt was similarly flattered by her yellow, bikini-cut panties.

I couldn’t help but compare myself to my sister. My hair was closer to brown than blonde. If Lucy was all circles, then I was straight lines. We had the same blue eyes, and our faces were similar, sort of, but that was about it.

Lucy came back to consciousness. “Seriously, Dylan, come here,” she said, an edge of annoyance in her voice.

Tentatively, I stepped inside her doorframe.

“What’s up?” I asked, playing dumb.

As a 19-year-old boy, just two years younger than Lucy, I knew what masturbation looked like. But I’d never seen anyone do it that way with a pillow. And I certainly wasn’t prepared for my sister to openly share it.

Lucy and I had always been close. Unlike our friends (and our other siblings) who seemed to be suffocated by their close relationships — fighting each other for air — Lucy and I both basked in our shared spaces. We were playmates as kids and confidants as teens. I told my sister nearly everything and had an easy expectation that she would do the same.

But we weren’t, you know. Like this.

It was awkward when we watched a movie, and a sex scene came on. I felt uncomfortable folding Lucy’s underwear when I did the laundry. I noticed my sister had a nice body because she was super curvy and stuff. But I didn’t, like, sneak on her in the shower or ogle at her bathing suit when we went down the shore.

We were, you know, normal siblings. Until that random afternoon when my sister called me into her bedroom while she was grinding her pussy against a pillow.

“Come on, try this with me,” Lucy said. She wiggled her butt purposefully, clearly starting her process all over again.

“You mean, like, lying on the ground?” I asked.

“Not exactly,” Lucy said. She looked up at me, her face pink and sweaty with exertion. “You put a pillow down. And you lie on top of it. Then you kind of press down. You know? Feels awesome.”

I can’t say why I listened. It should have been weird — OK, it was weird — but for whatever reason I treated it more like my older sister was inviting me to try a new game or watch a movie. Gingerly, I stepped into her bedroom. Like me, Lucy was a bit of a geek. She had a flatscreen TV with a couple consoles attached. Her tan bedroom walls had posters from Breath of the Wild and Animal Crossing. Her room was a peaceful, welcoming place.

But in the moment, it felt almost foreboding. Like the air itself was all charged up. As soon as I stepped inside, I was hit with the scent of my sister’s honey-sweet perfume mixed with something else; instinctively familiar.

“Grab the one from my bed,” Lucy said, breathily.

I took the pillow — a sad, floppy, lime green thing whose filling had fled long ago — and dropped it on the ground. I fluffed the pillow as best I could, then lay down on top of it. I adjusted myself till I had my genitals in what seemed like the right place.

“There you go,” Lucy said, “Now just…” Instead of saying it, she did it. Arched herself again. Her wide hips swiveled slightly back and forth on the pillow. Again, I became very aware of my sister’s body. Her broad shoulders and long arms. Large breasts and bubble butt. Pretty face and light, sparkling sapphire eyes.

I tried to mirror my sister. I pressed down into the pillow and wiggled a little. And, amazingly — despite the fact that we were working with very different equipment — I could kind of see what Lucy was getting at. Like catching a glimpse of a mirage from the far side of the desert.

There were a few problems that kept me from getting closer, however. One, the pillow made things too soft. For my sister, the cushion gave her something to rub against. For me though, I got the sense that I needed something firmer. Honestly, the bare floor would probably have been fine.

But, ironically, the other problem was that I was too hard. Everything around me — my sister, what she was doing, what she invited me to do — had led to the inevitable reaction. At any other time, an erection was the perfect way to start getting myself off. But not like this. Some instinctual part of me knew that if my cock was softer, it would be easier to press against the ground and, theoretically, might feel nice.

I looked over at my sister. Unintentionally, we’d ended up facing each other. Quite close. I could see every detail of Lucy’s face, screwed up with effort. She was clearly building toward another release. She clenched, held, then flopped in a strained, desperate rhythm. Over and over, like an odd kind of exercise.

I stayed in place, just lightly pressing down. There was the distant sensation that maybe something could be there, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to reach it in the moment. Instead, I sort of teased myself while I watched my sister take herself down the path to pleasure.

“Nothing?” Lucy asked, suddenly aware that I was staring at her.

“Kinda?” I said, “I get the feeling it might work if some things were different. But not right now.”

“Oh, OK,” Lucy said, clearly disappointed. “That’s too bad. I’m glad you tried it though.”

“Me too,” I said.

Carefully, I got off the floor. I tossed Lucy’s pillow back on her bed. My older sister was still pressing herself when I left.

I wandered away, feeling shell shocked. Unable to remember where I’d been headed in the first place.

*

About an hour later, I was in my bedroom — sweating my balls off while playing Elden Ring — when the thought popped into my head.

I could be doing it right now.

It was a random idea, borne of nothing, as if my subconsciousness had been chewing on this for a while and finally spit it out.

I put the controller to the side. Looked down at the grey carpet. My bedroom door was shut. The distraction of my repeated virtual deaths meant my dick was soft — exactly where I needed it to be. I slid off my chair and dropped to the ground.

Like my sister had showed me before, I pressed down with my crotch and arched my back. Like lightning, there it was. This was a very different experience than I was used to. It was more work than stroking myself off, but it also felt fantastic in a slightly different way. Because I was lying on my stomach, in some ways it felt more like fucking, because I could imagine someone under me, feeling the same building pleasure.

Just when I felt myself begin to tire, I reached my apex. My orgasm splattered down my legs in warm, wet spurts. The pleasure overwhelmed me. The effort to reach that place had been so much. The orgasm was a wondrous final reward.

I lay on the floor for a while, smelling my carpet. Muscles aching like I’d done an hours’ worth of exercise. I drifted in and out of a strange, altered consciousness. Only dimly aware of the world around me.

*

The family all came home around the same time for dinner. Mom had grabbed Chinese on the way back from work and we all loaded up our plates. We had a tiny, circular dining room table that my dad had found at a yard sale down the street. It was big enough for four, but not six, so Lucy and I set out stack tables in the nearby living room and ate on the couch.

For such a large family — Mom, Dad, my three sisters and myself — dinner was upsettingly silent. I remembered how meals used to be, all of us carousing around the big table, talking excitedly about what had happened that day. Here, though, the clatter of utensils and plates overwhelmed whatever urge we might have had to say anything to each other. And what was there to talk about, really?

I waited till everyone seemed truly lost in their own worlds, then I elbowed Lucy. She turned and glared at me.

“What was that for?” she asked.

“I did it,” I said, under my breath, “I made it work. In my bedroom.”

“Oh, awesome,” Lucy said, her face shifting from slightly irritated to fully excited. Her eyes lit up like bright blue fire. “How was it?”

I looked down at the ground, shyly. I guess some things still felt strange to admit to my sister.

“Nice,” Lucy said, and gave my shoulder a playful shove.Exclusive © content by N(ô)ve/l/Drama.Org.

After dinner, our siblings left to go hang out with their respective friends, leaving Lucy and me to watch TV with our parents. It’s not that we didn’t have our own social groups because we did. But most of our friends had gone away to college, while we were now at County, and so we had fewer social options.

I suppose we could have gone out, the two of us, but it was awkward to wander around our old hometown. The thought of running into people, of having to explain what had happened — I don’t think either of us was anticipating that interaction. So, instead, we stayed on the couch and watched TV with my parents.

It didn’t take long, however, for Mom and Dad to shuffle off to sleep, and so we found ourselves sitting together on the beat-up couch. Almost close enough to be cuddling.

“You want to do it?” Lucy asked.

“Huh?” I asked. I looked over at my sister. She was wearing a long, light pink, sleep shirt that went down to her knees — hiding her ample curves. She gave me a winking smile, like she was telling a dirty joke.

“Do you want to?” Lucy asked again. Suddenly, I realized what she meant.

“Here? Now?”

“Upstairs,” Lucy said. She didn’t wait for my response, just stood up and glided out of the living room. I mean, was I truly going to sit and watch TV by myself at that point?

Back in Lucy’s bedroom, I found her already lying splayed on the floor, pillow strategically placed under her. She’d lifted her sleep shirt up to her waist, exposing a pair of robins’ egg blue, bikini-cut panties.

Lucy grunted hello, then ground into the ground. “You need a pillow?” she asked, throatily.

“Nah,” I said. I lay down on the floor. I could feel myself stiffening already, and I knew I needed to take the opportunity before the act became impossible.