Chapter 1 - 16' x 24' Space Filled with Desire

The air reeks, a pungent smell of sweat and squid defines the confined living space that is Room# 312. The heat and humidity in this box made it closer to a sauna than anything else, only made bearable from an open window and a small box fan trying it’s best. There was zero space for stretching and the junk that littered the floor took up most of the retail of the already, hardly generous space given. The walls were covered in anime wall scrolls and posters of shitty fighting games. The shelves and tables are crowded by figures, dishes, and miscellaneous “weeb” trash that refused to be thrown out. Pants, hoodies, and graphic tees laid about, making the floor more clothes than carpet. This place was prime roach real estate, but thankfully, I’ve never seen one crawl around; maybe even they viewed this place as unlivable. You’d be astonish to know that even one person could stand to live here, but I share this space with my older brother.

Really, It’s all we can afford. We both dropped out of college and now work minimum wage jobs to make due. He works behind the counter of a convenience store and I work in a shitty book store. These monotonous, “cent by the hour”, jobs are just about unbearable, but they allow us to live just comfortably enough to survive and still have enough to spend on leisure, and that’s just about all we need, although it does help to have a 10% discount on all store owned items. You’d think I’d hate my life and regret all the poor decisions made that got me here, after all I live in a pig sty, I work in a dead end job, and my only IRL friend is my roommate/brother. It sounds awful, but I’m actually quite comfortable living like this, and on days like today where we’re both off, and I have the whole day to spend with my bro, I honestly couldn’t ask for much more.

It’s noon in the dead of summer, the window is open, and our hardy desk fan puts forth his best effort to keep us cool. I’m on my stomach, playing ‘Monster Hunter’, resting on our bed in striped boxers, and one of those shitty ironic hentai tees, because I like the art but have enough shame to know not to wear it in public. My brother sits on the floor by my side, back rested against the bed on a pile of clothes made makeshift-cushion. He’s in the same modest attire playing a mindless phone game or something. I’ve been grinding all day trying to get a rare drop off a monster so I can finish an armor set. I must’ve been on my 20th run and I was starting to lose patience. My nerve was on a hair trigger, and it didn’t help that my brother had started screaming on the floor over his stupid gacha game.

“OHHHH! ‘Dioscuri’ came home!” He screamed with unnecessary excitement, pumping his fist in the air like getting this roll wasn’t going to lead to more mindless farming. 

“Please, don’t tell me you’re getting excited over a fucking ‘.png’…” I said accompanied by my 21st gemless run.

“Of course I am! They’re going to trivialize this next event and they’re cute as fuck to boot.” he points to his phone showing off a pair of blonde... twins… I think? I don’t really care for ‘Fate’ or gacha games in general.

“You didn’t spend money on this shit again, did you? It’s not in our budget for you to be wasting our hard earned pennies on your digital gambling addiction.” I act concerned about our financial standing, but I know I’m not better in my spending habits. What he doesn’t know is I pre-ordered a new figure last week. He’s not going to be happy when that $100 ‘Miyuki Shiba’ Figure arrives in the mail, but I will be.

“Not a cent. Got them first try and I even got 2 copies on the same 10 pull.” He brags smugly about his luck, and to rub salt in my wounds he follows it up by saying “Oh, and look at that 21 runs and still no gem? Looks like Lady Luck favored me today. Can’t blame her though. When you got a stud like me in the room it's hard not to play favorites.”

My brother jokingly flexes and kisses his biceps... Well, lack of biceps really. How can someone who’s this much of a loser be this self confident? It’s annoying but, I must admit, it’s what I like about him. I like how dorky and lame he is. My brother hasn’t cut his hair in a month and despite being up for a couple hours he still looks like he just woke up, I would nag him to take better care of himself, but I honestly like it that way... his soft, curly, chestnut hair wildly draping down to just before his shoulders. Sometimes, after a long hard day of work, I let him lay his head in my lap. His stress and anxiety are usually high during these days, so I like to run my fingers through his hair to calm him down. His relaxed goofy face beaming the brightest smile, his hazy, almond eyes under circular rims staring up at me content and at home... it makes me feel warm... I wonder if he ever looks at me and feels that same warmth… 

Regardless, he is no “stud”. We actually look some what alike when it comes to facial features, so I’d be somewhat annoyed if he was. Just to be clear, we are not twins. I’m the older sister, a stout and chubby nerd who is, dare I say, the more mature of this little pair and very protective of her impish brother who is soft, just a little round, and hairy in everyplace but his face. I’m just glad I’m not as blind as him, so I don’t have to wear dorky glasses that I lose every morning. I also like to think I take more needed time to properly groom myself every morning, unlike him, who is the “As long as I don’t smell, I’m good” type of guy. He is kinda cute though, and even when he frustrates me he makes me laugh. So, I giggle at his foolish display and playfully push him over onto a pile of hoodies, and he laughs knowing he won his little game to annoy me.

“Well, since you got your ‘.jpg’ why don’t you help me farm then. You can even invite Lady Luck too, since she’s so ‘fond’ of you, asshole.”

“Sure, I’m down. I mean, I already have all the materials I need to max them out anyways, so I can just do that later. Plus, it’s not like me to put anything but my sister first.” he says in a mocking tone making silly, kissy faces my direction.

“Knock it off, cunt. Before, I remind you that I’m the older sister.” I say with a smug grin reminding him of my 2 year seniority.

“Pfft, barely.” He scoffs unimpressed by any threats from a girl who can’t throw him around like she used too.

With him pulling out his laptop and booting up his copy, I honestly must say, I feel at peace on days like this. He doesn’t even have to talk for me to feel at ease in his presence. Even when we ‘argue’ it never feels like the fallout of it is big enough to keep us apart for longer than a couple of hours. He’s the only one I can rely on, and the only person I ever want to be around… I have weird feelings towards him. Feelings a sister should not feel for her brother… Oliver… he’s so frustrating! He’s a dweeb, the type that you’d look at and just want to shove into a locker! and I look at him and I want to hold him tight and never let go!… On days like this I always ask myself “Why am I so unfortunate that he is my brother...”

“...Anything?” My trail of though is interrupted by a question Olie attempted to ask me.
 
“Uh... I’m sorry… what did you say?” 

“You, from the store… d-did you want anything?” He clarifies himself.

“?… Oh uh, yeah, could you get me an Arizona I already have snacks here.”

“No problem, sis. See you when I get back, Chloe.” saying that he gives my hair a tussle and smiles at me with a toothy grin.

What an asshole, even though my hair is pretty easily maintained and shorter than his even that’s still time I got to spend fixing the mess he caused… I love him so much it’s unreal… Regardless, He grabs his key’s, wallet, and phone, puts on an ahegao zip-up jacket, because he has no shame, and walks out the door… but before he can complete his exit I hastily shout “Love you, bro!” which he returns with an ordinary and expected “Love you too, sis!” A small and thoughtless gesture that I appreciate far more than I really should, but one I’d be aching without.

But, with him out the room... and I wait a good minute to make sure he’s really gone... because I’d hate.. no, I’d really… really… hate if he knew what I was about to do, I steel myself to prepare for another ‘session’.

So, earlier today, he was eating a cup of ice cream, it was ‘Cookies and Cream’ his favorite, and when he finished, like the slob he is, he lazily left the cup on the table after he was done, the spoon still resting inside. With great hesitation, I reach for the spoon, picking it up in a shaky grip. My heart thumping out of my chest, I take the spoon towards my lips and stick out my tongue to give it a slow and deliberate lick… and this shameful display is repeated again… and again…and again... until the spoon is in my mouth and cleaned to a reflective silver from my horrid behavior. It’s disgusting, but I can’t help myself. I can taste him on it. The taste is oh-so sweet, and I know it’s not the ice cream I’m savoring, no his saliva's a nectar I could only hope to taste beyond this second hand experience. My cock slowly rises with every lick. The spoon is not enough to sate my desire it only fuels it, a kindle to a raging flame. I pull down my boxers to free my hard-on and begin to jack hammer my dick. Being a futanari in this hot, cramped, one room apartment is my own personal hell. I’m so damn horny all the time and the only free time I get is brief moments like this when he’s gone, but fuck! His homebody ass is never gone and when he is, I’m working! I could jerk off in the bathroom, but if I stay for to long he’d know! It’s risky, but I need it! I take long, practiced strokes in my frustration. My soft thoughts of my precious, Olie, are mixed with dirty, unclean ones of what I’d do to my annoying brother, Oliver, if I could have my way. ‘Pre’ dribbles down my cock, onto the floor, my complex, but oh-so horny, feelings are enough to work me up, but not enough to work me over. 

 I picture him, He stands tall, his naked form in front of mine own. His chubby figure stands a head over mine, arms out stretched to embrace over my soft, plump body. The warmth of his hug makes me hazy, as I look up into dusky, brown eyes that look back into mine. He rustles my brown locks and tells me it’ll be okay… That he’s there for me and only me... A rose blush crawls across my face, and I pull him into a kiss. It’s deep and passionate and I can feel his tongue swirl over mine. He lays me onto my back. I drop the spoon and hastily grab for my secret, personal box of “girl stuff”. Inside, I retrieve one of the dildos I hide just for these sessions; to acknowledge the toy as a knotted ‘bad dragon’ would ruin the mood. 
I tease the toy at my entrance and start to moan his name repeatedly, as I thrust the faux cock in and out of my quivering cunt, I stroke my dick at the same tempo as the thrusts, and start to work myself over. I feel myself getting close, and my imagined version of him is on his edge as well, thrusting into me with full intent to cum inside. With a couple more thrusts, I push myself over, and a week of pent up pearly desire rushes out of me, and onto my stomach, over my chest, with a few over-achieving puddles managing to pepper my face. I rest there, tuckered out from my climax. I need to clean up but, I can’t get up… Maybe I can just close my eyes for just a second...



It’s been a month-long week and things between Oliver and me haven’t gotten any less awkward. I feel like an absolute buffoon. How could I forget how strict my time limit was? He was only going to the store down the street. That’s like 15 – 20 mins tops! Even if I was lucky, and I was granted his tendency towards indecisiveness, I’d get 3, maybe 5, minutes extra, but that’s a gamble that isn’t worth betting on. Honestly, doesn’t even matter how long it could’ve taken him. He walked in on me passed out, covered in my own seed. Unless he was going to walk to the next county over, I was always going to get caught. I’m still so fucking embarrassed! I wish I could just die...
 
That moment was playing on constant repeat in my mind, but it’s also not something that hasn’t happened before... for either of us really... When it usually happens we do one of two things, do a hasty 180 back outside, close the door, knock, and wait for the other to clean themselves up, so they can allow the other inside. Otherwise, we’ll just walk in, and won’t acknowledge the white elephant in the room. It’s been an understanding we’ve both had for a good while, and we never held it against one another for falling to “urges”, but for some reason this time was different. Oliver has been acting a lot more distant recently. He’s not talking to me as much, and when I try to talk to him he’s not holding our conversations as long. It seems like he’s gone internal, constantly thinking of something that he won’t share to even his most trusted confidant. Every conversation is short, and so much less... “intimate”... for lack of a better word. I feel bad, like I did something wrong, but we both jerk off. We both get super horny. We both get... it… So why? What was wrong this time around? 

Then a terrifying thought crossed my mind. One that I kept pushing away, but one that stood firm and resilient to my efforts to deny. Did he see?... He… He didn’t hear me did he?… does he hate me?… does he think I’m disgusting?… does he want to... does he want to leave me...? I don’t even want to ponder that idea anymore. I need to break this tension that’s dividing us both before that division is permanent.

“Hey…” I quietly call out to him, miles away, on the other side of this 16’ x 24’ box.

He looks up at me for a brief second, before returning his gaze back down at his novel. “Hey.”
 
“Uh… whatcha reading?” Is my attempt to start some small talk; Just anything to get us talking.

“Oh… just some isekai…” he says despondently.

“Is it interesting?”

“No, not really. It’s just another isekai. A power fantasy, with a self-insert protag, from another world, who abuses a poorly developed magic system, and gets a harem by virtue of being the main character. You know, all the usual stuff that keeps this genre from being interesting.”
 
“Oh… uh, then why are you reading it then? It sounds boring.”

“Because it’s like junk food for me. Despite how shit I know it is, I can’t help but eat another chip.”

“Well, what’s keeping you eating this one? Why are you still invested?”

He takes a second to think “The harem actually. I usually can’t stand them, but I find all the girls interesting in their own right, and they play off the hero well enough.”

“Is that so… Well, tell me a bit about the girls then.”

“Well, for starters, there’s the childhood friend, of course. She's like this cute nerdy farmer girl with glasses and a pony tail, but she's also totally ripped, and honestly a little scary sometimes.”

“Hot.” I say with a visibly lewd and smug grin on my face. 

“Didn’t ask...” He gives me an annoyed stare, clears his throat, and returns to describing each of the girls “Then there’s the tsundere dark elf who’s like a ‘magical archer’. She's kinda mysterious and stand-offish, but the scenes were she’s alone with the hero or the childhood friend are... Just...*muwah*...” he does a little chef’s kiss with his fingers pinched together flourishing out an open palm, to really emphasize his point “Just oh-so sweet! Those moments make you really warm up to her character, and you start to forgive how initially off putting her introduction was.”

“I can see the appeal.”  I shrugged my shoulders, I’ve never really been interested in the archetype of ‘bitchy but well-meaning’ girls. Its always annoyed me how they couldn’t just be honest with their feelings, instead of choosing to take their insecurities out on other people; except ‘Kirino’, she was a queen.

“Next there’s the shy and clumsy healer… uh... she’s just got big boobs and a fat ass.” He said with a dreamy look in his eyes, a pink blush on his face, and a slack-jawed, drooling mouth as he pictured something obviously perverted.

“Figures, let me guess, she’s your favorite?” My turned to be annoyed, I raise an eyebrow with a blank face.

“Ahahha sis, you know your brother’s taste too well, but no. She would be, but I think it’s actually the yandere girl.”

“Of course you’d fall for the borderline insane girl…” I put a palm to my head almost laughing at his somehow even more generic pick than the girl who’s straight up just seemingly made for fanservice. 

“She’s actually very fun, and her relationship with the hero is quite cute. Plus, the author doesn’t over play his hand with the yandere aspect of her character. She’s just... ah… just ahhh… teensy bit obsessed.” He says, his voice sharply raising an octave towards the end, as he pinches his index to his thumb to show how truly, not, small her love is.

“Uh huh…” I give a blank stare, so judgmental that I can hear a gavel sentence him to 10 years of solitary for having taste that shit.

“Although, you might think it’s weird because she’s actually the hero’s sister. Yeah, she’s just a complete brocon.” He looks up at the ceiling when he drops this revelation, sort of staring off into space as he retreats back into his mental walls. Which I’m fine with, I’d rather not let him see me as I break out in a nervous sweat because of it.

“Uh… yeah, I think it’s weird! I mean that type of romance is completely inappropriate and unrealistic. I wish less stories did the brocon/siscon thing, you know. It’d be better for us all…” I sigh at the end, feeling no relief in my own lie.

“… Is that right? Well actually despite the weird taboo, I really don’t mind it. They’re really cute together and the writer has done a lot to flesh out their relationship in a believable manner. Honestly, I wouldn’t even mind her winning in the end.” He stares back at me, a gleam shine’s in his specs, and a content smiles crawls across his face, as he crosses his arms, eyes closed, feeling no shame for what he admitted.

“O-oh… is that so…” I say, a little confused.

“Yeah, it is a fictional story after all no problem in indulging in a little taboo if it keeps the story interesting.” He says as he gets up from his seat on the floor and dusted himself off.

“I can see from that perspective I suppose. I do enjoy some fucked up fanfiction myself, but even still, I view it as a little weird, you know?” Staring down at my twiddling thumbs, as I responded.

“Sure, that’s reasonable… anyways, I’m going to head of to the store, sis. Do you want anything?” He puts on his jacket and starts his way towards the door.

“No… but I guess I wouldn’t mind an ‘Arizona’.” I’m no longer staring at him, choosing just outside the window for my target of gaze.

“No problem” He takes a brief pause and I can feel him hesitate before he says his next sentence. With a deep inhale, and a shallow exhale, he states out…“Just saying, I’m going to leave my spoon on the counter, so don’t get any ideas, alright now.” 

He drops a bomb shell on my bunker. An attack that is followed by an attempted, hasty retreat for the door.

But, unfortunately for him, in that moment, time froze around me. I ran through a thousand thoughts and emotions that led me to one conclusion. ‘I couldn’t let him leave’. I was a bolt in a storm, almost like I flash stepped, I was at the door blocking off his route for escape in an instant. A hunter that had just cornered her prey, and there was no chance of escape. All that was left was confrontation.

“...So, you saw…?”

“...Yeah, I guess I did…”

“...H-how much did you see…?”

“...Honestly, more than enough to know you’re wild for me…” A smug grin crawls across his face. I suppose he planned to stand tall in the face of conflict.

I gingerly mutter out “...A-a-are you disgusted by me?…” worried to what his answer might be.

And his cool exterior is faltered, as the true face of his anxiety is revealed. He stammers out

“H-h-honestly… N-n-no…” and another deep breath is taken, this time with an equally deep exhale, before he said “Cause it means... I don’t have to be disgusted by myself...”

My brain shut off for a moment, It crashed trying to process the mountain of information that just got dropped into it. Like a dusty old generator it kicked back on, and a fire alarm blared in my mind, but the flames that burned in my body were already far to wild to be put out by any fighter. I wanted to lunge at him, ravage him right there, but instead I collapsed on to the ground, and curled into a ball.

“C-chloe! Are you okay?!?! I’m right here just take deep breaths. I’ll always be here for you! So, calm down please.” He pulled me into a hug as tears ran down my eyes. 
 
You know, I can’t actually remember the last time I cried. Maybe it was the first time I saw my abysmal GPA, and knew I wouldn’t see another semester in college. Maybe it was the time my parents kicked me out of the house, calling me lazy and worthless saying I was a deadbeat, that I’d never amount to anything. Maybe it was after one of those long and lonely nights in the book store where I was left alone with bad thoughts that weighted down on me, reaffirming that my parents were actually right; that I actually did amount to nothing. Maybe it was a lot of times, but I know during everyone of those times, Oliver was there to wipe away my tears. Ollie was there to get me an Arizona, and comfort me til I felt better. My little brother was there to take care of his older sister, and because of that, I always promised to take care of him. I don’t know when the last time I cried was, but I know that this is the first time, in a long time, that those tears were produced by something that made me genuinely happy. These tears were caused by somebody who made me feel so loved. These tears were for someone I truly loved with every ounce of my heart. It was at that moment, I knew what my parents said couldn’t be true, because to my beloved, precious Oliver, I meant more than the world.

This is all I ever wanted and more. God could strike me down right now and I’d be content, but I’d spite him forever if he took away these next few moments. 

“Oliver… Olie would you do anything to make me feel better?” I stare at him with wet, pearly eyes, a smile on my face, and want in my heart. 

“Yes, anything sis. Do you want some Arizona? O-or maybe do you need time to yourself? I’m absolutely sorry, I-I’m so gross, I shouldn’t have…” Tears were starting to well up in his sweet face. His glasses becoming as foggy as his emotions.

“Shh… don’t apologize.” I take off his glasses and stand above him. I take a hold of his cheeks and stare down into his adorable, caramel eyes. “Loving me is something you should never apologize for, especially since you know those feelings are returned.”

A soft “Chloe…” was all he could manage to utter.

“Olie, if I ask you this would you promise not to hate me if your disgusted by it.” I gently smile down at him.
He takes a hold of my hands, and smiles back up at me, a face so pure. “I couldn’t ever hate you, sis.”

“If I asked you to fuck me right now, would you do it?” There is no hesitation in my voice. Just a clear and concise question.

The room was deafeningly silent. For a brief few seconds, extended across an eternity of deliberation, the sounds of our hearts beating became like drums, the drops of anxiety hitting the floor echoed like that of drips off stalagmites, the heavy breathing of our breath was an even rhythm, one that was as wild as it was in sync, the sounds of us two, our bodies together, alone in this box, became louder than the blaring ambulance that flew past our street. The ticks of an impatient analog clock loudly made their presence known as the seconds rolled by. Strange… all of our stuff was digital…

His decision made, he took a deep gulp, swallowing every bit of courage, and resolve needed to go through with this, and as his face grew closer to mine, his soft lips just about grazing my own, he gave me his answer in the softest, most sincere, and straight forward way he could.

“For my sister… for my love, I wouldn't even hesitate…”

And we shared our first kiss. Neither of us were certainly good at it. It was hella sloppy, just two frantic tongues dancing to find passage into the other’s mouth. But damn, it was so much more sweeter than I could ever imagine; A literal silver spoon in my mouth could never compare.

He stood up, picking me up by my ass, as he carried me to a wall. As softly as he attempted, he slammed me into it, with a passionate moan leaving my mouth into his, as I wrestled his tongue against mine, I spread my legs around his waist, and I could feel his hard bulge under his jeans grind against my own, the friction awakening the little guy, stiff in my boxers, to fight back against an imposing foe. Since he was groping my ass, I saw it as only fair to grab his. I gave it a firm squeeze causing him to whine in pleasure, breaking our lesson in french prematurely. 

Trying to catch my breath, I stammered out “H-hey, that got a cute sound out of you.” A small giggle leaving my mouth.
His face turned an even more, fiery red, his embarrassment evident from having a sensitive area toyed with, or maybe it was because he thought my giggles were cute? Regardless, he made his next move.

“Oh, you like cute sounds, eh. Well let’s get you to make a couple of your own.” He reached under my shirt, gliding his hands up my curves, a gleam in his eyes.

Still pinning me to the wall, he gently took hold of my breast, and started to experiment with them. Lucky for him that I am so kind not to wear a bra in our apartment, otherwise he’d have to figure out how to take it off; an overly exaggerated challenge, but one men struggle with nonetheless. He was clumsy at first, the effort still very greatly appreciated, as I moaned his name, but as he started to get a feel for the size, shape, and weight of my puppies, he started to improve his ability to make them feel good; delightful even.

Now, I won’t lie and say that my tits are anything to write home about. They do fill out a shirt well enough, leaving a nice impression whenever I decide to wear a low cut or a tight sweater, and they are exceptionally more perky than they really should be for someone who lives my sedentary lifestyle, but I’m certainly not getting a model deal anytime soon. Didn’t matter to Ollie however, 'tits were tits' and his sister’s tits were the best of them all. So he played with them like they were joysticks to a controller, taking extra care to work the nipples with his thumbs and firmly squeeze them just right. His aim was met, and I was making a chorus of lewd squeals and moans from his prodigal fondling. 

“God damn, I didn’t know they were so sensitive, fuck. I really should experiment with them more.” I whimpered out, still wanting to keep some tact, as to not disturb our fellow tenets through these paper thin walls, but what he did next made that exceedingly difficult.

Oliver stuck his head under my shirt, stretching it out like the ass-hat he is, and nuzzled himself up to my breast, were he took a nipple inside his mouth. He sucked and licked my bosom, alternating between the two, as he firmly squeezed the one he wasn’t currently salivating over.

I was starting to create quite the pool of pre in my boxers, so I pulled up my shirt over my head, letting the warm air around us hit my steaming skin, and reveled in his shaggy mane, as he was lost in his sister’s chest. I pulled him away from his two, pillowy treasures, and pulled him into another kiss, having seen a little improvement in the tongue action after our first graceless attempt, as we began to pull apart to catch our breaths once again, I licked the top of his mouth on exit, resulting in another warm moan from him in response.

I attempted a seductive tone, as I spoke to Oliver. “Ollie, I know you liked sucking on my breast.” He then responded by rapidly shaking his head up and down like an excited dog, as he continued to fondle them bare. I ignored this boorish, but rather cute, behavior and guided myself to his ear, where I whispered “Well, I can think of one other thing that could use some sucking.”  

Oliver’s eyes lit as he put me down onto my feet, and quickly got to his knees where he stared at up at me, waiting for me to give the go ahead. I ruffled his hair, as I was so accustomed of him doing to me, and I said something that got his little soldier to stand right at attention, threatening to spring out of his jeans into action.

“Aww, you're such a good boy, you know that.” I gave him a gentle, but lustful, smile as I whispered this to him, caressing his face.

I wasn’t expecting my little brother to be into such a thing, but a rather impressive bulge that was starting to create a lake in his pants, the burning blush on his face, and the dog like yelp he made when he heard me praise him had only serve to clue me in that might brother might just be a little bit subby.  My excitement peaked, I giggled to myself, and with an erotic grin, I let him know just what he was waiting for.

“You’re free to grab your treat anytime, little bro.”

And with a small nod of confirmation, he grabbed the hem of my boxers and slowly pulled them down, freeing my cock in a way that caused it to fly up and smack him in the face on the rebound down leaving a dollop of precum smeared across his cheek.

To this, he reacted with nothing but a bark, panting as he hung his tongue out his mouth like the cutest, horniest, little puppy.

I openly laughed at his adorable display and asked him to “Cut that out, you’re going to kill my boner by making me laugh too hard.” Having to hold my snickers with a hand cupped to my mouth.

He smiled and scratched the back of his head. “Sorry, couldn’t help myself.”

His attention turned back to the shaft that stood before him. He seemed amazed at just how much it leaked and pulsed in his presence. Of course, he had a cock as well, but I suppose the main difference between futanari cocks and male cocks were how much more sensitive and reactive they were; they were like elongated clits, if they had the aesthetic and function of a penis. He reached up and grasped it in his hand giving it a couple of practice strokes, admiring it’s length and girth. This caused me to jolt my hips forwards in response already growing impatient with his experimentation.

“Just put in your mouth and allow me to do the rest.” I moaned out, barely able to contain myself.

He took another audible gulp in and did as he was told, opening his mouth with a wide “aaahhh”, and sticking his tongue out, wrapping his lips around the head of my cock getting a decent grip on it. Now it was my turn to experiment, as I put my hands on the back of his head, and gave him a few probing thrusts. I would warn him before I would take this over the edge.

“You took Judo, in freshman year if I recall correctly, you remember the rules of tapping, right?” I asked him this, causing him to give me a puzzled expression before he responded with an affirmative hum around my cock; it was a pleasing vibration. 

Still giving him slow and controlled pumps, I gave him my own spin of tapping procedures. “Now, remember what I tell you, Tap yourself twice if you want me to slow down, tap myself twice if you want me to stop, and I have nothing for 'saying tap' twice because if you bite my dick, I’ll hit you so hard, you’ll see sideways. Do you understand?” I’m very direct and clear with my instructions and it seems like he gets it, as he give me a thumbs up for a go ahead. This is when I really start to fuck his throat.

To his credit, and my honest surprise, he did not tap. Which is quite the feat because I was not taking it easy for his first time giving oral. I slammed myself into his mouth, like the beast in heat I was, and fucked it with reckless abandon. He gagged initially, as I used his mouth like an onahole, a toy he’d replace in due time if he was up for this again, but he quickly became accustomed to being the fleshy sheath to my meaty sword. 

I was no longer Chloe, I was a piston trying to deposit my white, sticky product down my brother’s assembly line. I was leaking a river of pre over his tongue, his adorable face turning red from abuse. I gripped his hair and used it as leverage to pound away in ecstasy. I was reduced to a mess of moans and variations of Oliver’s name. He was my fuck toy and I was going to use him like one.

For me it was a short 10 minutes, but for Ollie it must have been an eternity before I reached my climax. Pulling his nose into my plush bush, pumping endless cum down his windpipe. I kept him there until I was done with my orgasm, and I spasmed inside of his mouth, as the last few lagging swimmers dived in. With my climax over, I let loose one last prolonged sigh, and I pulled him off my length with one hand, as the other wiped the sweat of my brow, us still connected by a trail of saliva and semen. Letting go of his hair, he collapsed onto the floor, as did I, to my knees, from exhaustion.

Verifying to make sure I didn’t kill him, between gasping breaths, I ask. “Shit… you good bro… I might’ve… been a little… rough there…” to his still breathing corpse that lay, mouth agape, by a pearly pool of his own drool.

A dazed and ghostly, pale look on his face turned, in an instant, to a bright one of excitement and gratification, as he sat up from his near death experience. “Holy shit that was awesome, I felt like I would see god and have to explain to him that I died from choking on my sister’s dick.”

My brother was an odd fellow...

“Ready for the next step?” I crawled over to him, and between his crotch, on all fours like a lioness cornering her dinner, and started to unzip his jeans.

“Are we going to?” He looked up at me, excitement and anxiety painting a portrait on his face.

“Yeah…” I pulled his jeans down to his ankles and straddled my pussy over his cock. “You’re going to put your batter into my oven, little bro.”

Oliver looked down at my crotch. So many undefined emotions took refuge on his face, I could see eagerness in his eyes, concern in his sweat, lust in his panting mouth, and a bit of disappointment in his brow. I know he wants me to do the entering, but that will come in due time, my dear brother...
But concern took the reigns of this horse, and with a reasonable consideration he asked “You want me to do it bare? But, won’t I…” but I stopped him before he could finish, putting a finger to his lips, grinding my wetness against his heat, provoking the cutest little whimper from him.

“You don’t have to worry about that, I’m a breeding futanari, not one who can so easily be bred. You’ll have to catch me on the right time of the month for that.” I gave him a starry wink and a gentle smile, as I reassured him of my status. Just another interesting quirk to being born the way I was.

He nodded up at me and insisted I take lead. With glee I lifted my sopping womanhood up and guided his manhood into me. I wish I could truly describe how I felt when his, admittedly larger cock, took residence inside its long awaited home, one it had been denied for far to long. 

If you’ve ever walked into an area, unmolested by the lights of the city, like the deep forest, the desert, or distant plain, and looked up into the sky, you’d see what space really looked like, you’d see how vast and large our cosmos really were, and you be humbled in the presence of it. That feeling, the amazement you feel knowing that you are so small in this wide, expanse we call our universe. That was only a fraction of what I felt connected to Oliver.

I wasn’t the one leading the fight for much longer when we became one. He took charge, thrusting himself up into me, as I was now unable to even think of anything other than his cock. I was rendered a mess of emotions, love, passion, happiness, adoration, lust, desperation, want, need, etc., etc., etc.
 
It’s not worth telling you how many times he thrusted into me. The speed, the skill, or how long I lasted before my pussy came over his cock just wasn’t worth mentioning. It’s not worth telling you that he picked me up and carried me to the bed, fucking, missionary, into me all the emotions he and I had buried for years. The emotions that were forced into silence, over a taboo that was now as irrelevant to us, as keeping our voices low was no longer possible. We moaned each others names, hands clasped together, tongues dancing in a tango of romantic delirium. It didn’t matter that I covered myself in my own jizz, nor did it matter that his hot load made a warm nest in my womb. All that mattered was at the end of it all, the “I love you” we shared was as genuine, open, and honest, as we truly felt so deeply in our hearts for so long.

And we laid their naked in each others embrace, me holding him so tightly as I always wanted to, drifting off to sleep. With dreams of the sex that was yet to come.