Unspoken Pleasure (erotica)

It was shocking, that sudden contact. Like another wall had been broken through. I swear I could smell the dusty, chipped plaster as my sister busted through yet another barrier.

I rolled over to look at her. I’m sure she saw the shock in my face. Instead, my older sister shrugged.All text © NôvelD(r)a'ma.Org.

“Just thanking you,” Lucy said.

“I didn’t do anything,” I said.

“If you say so,” Lucy said, and she winked my way.

I started to get up. Flopped back. Like I said, that hardwood floor was incongruently comfy after an explosive orgasm. I imagined a pointy rock might feel the same at that point, honestly. That was the thing about cumming, everything around me felt soft and welcoming. My mind, however, became far sharper.

“What are we doing?” I asked.

Again, Lucy shrugged.

“No, seriously, what is this?”

“Fun,” Lucy said, as if it were obvious.

“So, we keep doing it,” I said.

“At least till we go back to school in the Fall,” Lucy said, “Why not? You have something better to do?”

I had to concede that I did not. The friends that I might want to talk to had all gone off to their lives. The people I very much did not want to see were right outside our front door. It was too easy to feel trapped by a bunch of circumstances that were out of my control.

Lucy seemed to be feeling the same thing. She sat down next to me, leaning back on her bed frame.

“Look, the past year has been so hard,” Lucy said, “Dad losing his job. Then losing the house. Having to come home from school and go back to County. This place. I know it’s where we live but it’s not home. Even the smells are so unfamiliar. I don’t like it here. I don’t like this. It sucks for you too, right?”

“It’s fucking miserable,” I said.

“Right,” Lucy said, “And this is just… Look, I’m not saying it’s my life or anything. It’s a distraction. But it’s kind of keeping me sane right now. So, I don’t want to stop. We’ll move on when it’s time. I know we will.”

“That makes sense,” I said, “Honestly, it’s helping me, too.”

“We’ll reach a certain point,” Lucy said, “It’ll be easy. One day we’ll stop doing it and it won’t even feel different. You’ll look back and realize ‘oh, it’s been so long since we did it.'”

“Just like that?”

“Don’t you think so?” Lucy said, “Besides it’s not like we’re doing anything serious here. We’re not even touching.”

I thought back to that kiss on the head my sister had given me. For a moment, I realized that we were both deceiving ourselves. But that’s the thing about a mirage. It’s all about how badly you want to see it.

*

The summer got hotter. Mom talked a big game about buying some window air conditioners, but they never materialized. Lucy and I, already down to t-shirts and shorts, were running out of ways to stay cool. I knew it was bad when Lucy said it was even too hot to press.

I reached the breaking point one afternoon when the knob of my bedroom door melted off in my hand. I wish I was exaggerating, but there I was, standing stupidly in the hallway, with a broken knob in my hand and no way to get back into my bedroom.

Instead, I went downstairs. Lucy was lazing on the couch, stretched out and miserable. She had on a pair of red mesh shorts and a white, ribbed tank. Her top was slightly pulled up, uncovering her cute tummy.

“This house sucks!” she said, writhing in discomfort.

I held up my doorknob as evidence.

“What’s that?” she asked.

I explained and she giggled, then groaned. “Oh my God, we’re both going to be burnt hamburger here in the house.”

“We could go out,” I said.

“It’s hotter out there than it is here,” Lucy said, “Let’s watch a movie. About something cold.”

“Do you think that’ll help?” I asked.

But Lucy was already surfing the screen. Finally, she settled on some old rom-com called The Cutting Edge about competitive ice skating. It was barely watchable, and it didn’t help me feel any cooler. But Lucy seemed happy, and it was too hot to argue. It’s not like I could go back to my bedroom.

About halfway through — the female lead kept saying the words ‘toe pick’ — Lucy paused the movie.

“I want to take my shirt off,” she said, in a strangely matter of fact tone.

“OK?” I gave my sister an odd look.

“You can take yours off, too,” Lucy said.

“Yes, I’m aware of that,” I said, “It’s a little different when I do it.”

“Look, it’s really hot,” Lucy said, seemingly unaware of the double entendre. “And I’m super uncomfortable. Seeing me in a bra won’t even make the top ten of things you’ve witnessed from me lately. So, I’m going to do this and you’re going to be OK with it. OK?”

Oh, I was way more than OK in that moment. Did I mention my sister’s chest was amazing? It was much more than that. Lucy had epic breasts. I knew it, despite the fact that I’d never seen more than the shape of them under her shirt. So yeah, no, I was more than alright with my sister taking her shirt off on the couch. If anything, I was sad that she’d already set the limit at leaving her bra on.

But this was weird right? Tell me I’m not strange for thinking it was weird that my big sister was going to take out her titties in the middle of the living room in front of her younger brother, as casually as pouring herself a drink.

Yet, no matter how I felt about it, my sister was doing it. Lucy reached down for the bottom of her tank and pulled it over her head. You’d think she was ripping off a band-aid, not exposing her twin holiest of holies to her kid brother. But Lucy kept it casual.

I more than made up for Lucy’s lack of concern, however, with my own reaction. I gaped. I gawped. My sister sat back on the couch in nothing but a lacy black bra and a pair of tiny, scarlet shorts. You’d think she’d just showed me the mysteries of the universe. And, to some extent, she truly had.

There are no words to describe what Lucy had revealed to me. Her bra covered a good portion of her breasts, but still. Her boobs were massive. Full and proud. Yet perfectly shaped and wonderfully peachy. I know I’m doing a lousy job of describing them. I’m sure you’re thinking ‘dude, they’re just boobs, and your sister’s boobs at that.’ But I’m telling you. That’s my point. They were so much more than anything I can describe to you. Like discovering the sun after a lifetime of darkness.

And, again, I was only seeing about a third of them thanks to Lucy’s lacy bra.

“Ahem,” Lucy cleared her throat, dramatically.

“Sorry,” I said, and did my best to stop staring. It was like trying to look away from a black hole, so strong was that pull to peek.

“Ahem hem,” Lucy did it again, even louder this time. She gestured to my chest.

“Oh,” I said, “Right.” I didn’t remember agreeing to this literal tit for tat, but I wasn’t going to step away from it, either. I pulled off my t-shirt, sticky with sweat, and tossed it aside.

“Very nice,” Lucy said, looking at me appraisingly.

“You know, I’m completely bare while you’re still wearing your bra. It seems to me it would be more even if we were both topless,” I said. I mean, can you blame me for trying?

Lucy smirked and shook her head. “Nice try, little brother,” she said. She turned the movie back on.

We finished the film, both of us staying in our state of half-dress. You won’t be surprised to learn that I missed most of what was on the screen. Look, I’m sure that Moira Kelly was kind of cute for her day, but compared to Lucy’s luscious, stupendous, lace-covered chest, nothing else could compete.

I spent the entire time stealing glances when I thought my sister wasn’t looking. It wasn’t enough. A lifetime’s pass to stare wouldn’t have been enough.

When the movie was over, when the guy finally got the girl, Lucy looked my way. I was ready to get berated for my inability to keep my eyes off my sister’s mounds. Instead, she raised an eyebrow. Pointed her chin. Well, I guess it wasn’t too hot after all.

“Here’s fine,” Lucy said, sliding off the couch.

Instinctively I looked around. If the house hadn’t been empty, I was pretty sure we’d have already been caught by now. I joined my older sister on the living room floor.

Lucy reached for a pillow off the couch. She didn’t bother grabbing for her shirt. Oh. My. God. As if things couldn’t get any better. Seeing my sister lying on her stomach — about to pleasure herself with a pillow — with her breasts hanging near-free in her bra? I swear I felt my sanity start to snap.

“You like my titties?” Lucy asked, her face cinched as she pressed down.

For some reason, the word ‘titties’ sounded strange coming out of her mouth. The sight of her humping the floor was more than enough to overwhelm my momentary pause.

“You look so sexy,” I said. I settled into the floor. Honestly, I was too hard at that point to hump. It didn’t matter. Watching Lucy was more than enough.

“Oh, that feels so good,” Lucy said, “Seeing you staring. Am I truly so amazing, little brother?”

“You have no idea,” I said.

“Think about it. Doing this. Holding me. Squeezing. Would you like that? Do you — OH! — want to feel my body while I do this? While I cum for you?”

“So bad,” I said.

“Oh Dylan, I wish you could…” Lucy froze mid-moment. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Then why aren’t you… you know?”

“Oh,” I said. I was surprised she even noticed that I wasn’t stuffing myself against the floor. “Well, um, you see. It’s kinda hard to do this when I’m hard.”

“Aw, did looking at your sister’s titties give you a stiffy?” Lucy asked. Boy, she really did like using that word for her breasts. “I thought getting an erection was supposed to help you with this stuff.”

“It does,” I said, “It would. It’s just, when we do it this way, if I’m too worked up, it hurts when I try to, you know, make things happen.”

“Well, what if you did it a different way,” Lucy said, “You know, the way that it would work with you erect.”

“Lucy, I don’t know.”

“Take it out,” Lucy said, “Show me. It’s OK. I want to see it. Please.”

“No bra,” I said. If I was going for it, then I was going for it.