My Brother's Keeper Ch. 02

"You're thinking again," she said, smiling, moving her hands to sit on top of mine.

"S—sorry."

She laughed again, and I knew she couldn't help it, as childish as I was being, and as drunk as she was, it was only natural. "Here." With both her hands she took up mine, placing my hands on the soft swells of her chest.

My breath caught in my throat, and suddenly I couldn't breathe. My fingers. It was like they all had minds of their own, all of 'em twitching at first before they started to grab and feel at her soft skin. She was like a cat, I noticed, purring as I grabbed at her. I could hear her purring, if that's what it was, and I was sure that I was, at least, doing something right. But I could feel her on my lap, grinding me. All at once, it didn't but it did come as a surprise that she was getting a rise out of me, then. I mean, she was like a sister to me, I just couldn't stop thinking about it. It was trippy to say the least—the very least.

"Don't--," She giggled, then, most likely at me. "You're too tense, calm down. Here, let me..." My hands fell from her chest as she backed away, though it was only an inch or two as her hands went to my lap. Her hands, I could feel them, cold fingertips fumbling over and finally in my boxers as she took a hold the full length of me, stroking me slowly and pulling me out into exposure. "God, you're hard!" she said then, the words kind of coming out in a gasp.

I could feel my face get hot and the palms of my hands go clammy. But in my own selfish mindset I was proud, damn proud, my eyes going back and forth from her hands to her face, I watched her as she bit at her bottom lip and sized me up as she prepared. My eyes on her face again, I felt my throat get tight as she then looked up to me, smiling as started to rub the head of my cock against the lace between her thighs. "Marie--,"

Jean Marie shook her head, putting her free hand over my mouth as the other still kept a firm hold of me, smooth and steady and sure. And suddenly I could feel her, hot and wet against me. She moaned and closed her eyes, and I slid into her easily. Even if I wanted to speak now, I couldn't. All I could feel was her, her body hot and wet around my full length.

I'd always heard that either you know how to do something, or you don't, that you can't learn to be a good lay. Heh, strange as it was I thought about it then, thinking that my sister had been the one that had said that. That's what it really came down to, that you would either have the instinct, "or you'd be a limp dick and fail." Yeah, it was something Candie had said.

So I let my instinct guide me as I put my hands on her hips, then, watching her as she easily rose and fell on my lap. And I slumped down some against the head of my bed, watching her as her hands reached out for me, her palms hard pressed against my chest as she struggled to keep herself up and steady. And though it took her a while to get her bearing, it wasn't long after that I started to wince at the feeling of her nails across my chest.

At a point I almost yelled out, her nails going deep enough to draw a little blood. I was shocked, my eyes were wide. It stung, enough to make me stop in what I was doing. And she stopped, too, breathing hard enough that I could see her chest rising and falling in the dark. Her eyes were large as she looked down to me, down to my chest, to see what she had done. "Sorry!" she breathed, her bottom lip jutted in a pout.

God, I don't know what it was then, but I liked the way that she pouted in apology, the was she suddenly looked as if she was afraid of what I would do, like I was going to just push her off and reject her. I mean, she really looked afraid—and of me, at that. I guess it's what they always called "fuel for the fire," because it was enough to get me up and running. Quick as I could manage I was sitting upright again, jerking from her a small scream as I moved to flip her onto her back, her head carelessly dropped over the side of my bed. I liked seeing hr like that, her eyes even wider than before with a kind of 'scared rabbit' look to 'em. So this was what it was like to be in control, what it felt like for my sister to be 'in command' of her own group of whatever they were. I liked it.

With one arm under her back and the other on her hip I pound into her as hard as I could, watching her face as she panted and whimpered out loud. Her body was hot under mine, literally hot, and at that time I didn't even care if we were heard; all that there was was Jean Marie, lying under me as she was. A "total head trip" is what one of my friend's had called it, and now I could honestly say I understood why. Between my ears my head swam, it was like I had a fever or something, the way my whole body seemed to—throb with whatever it was I was feeling. So intense, I'd never felt anything like it before. And it only grew as she reached up for me, pulling me down towards her, both out heads hanging over the beds end.

"Fuck me harder."

I could see her smiling up at me, her dark eyes narrowed and her long lashes throwing shadows across her eyes. And, looking at her then, I could have sworn that I'd seen a flash of light, like a fire that shown somewhere in the depths of her eyes. Something kind of dangerous and demanding. So what else could I do but what she asked?

My first thrust deeper was a hard one, pushing us both even further over the edge of the bed, just enough so that her shoulders were starting to tilt. And she laughed. She laughed and bit at her lip as she started to claw at my back, then, hard, so hard I gasped for breath as I struggled to keep from yelling out. It hurt, so badly that I could have sworn that she was digging her nails right into both of my lungs. But it only drove me harder, and dug myself deeper inside of her, until she almost screamed. I let myself go inside of her, unthinking, only excited, and she did scream out at that, the small of her back arching, raising her stomach to press hard against mine. From the front to the back of me it felt as if my lungs were really collapsing, held between the pressure of her fingers and her body, she was compacting me without mercy. She felt so tight around me, cutting off whatever other circulation was trying to rush into me, keeping it just there, inside of her.

Then finally she collapsed, the small of her back falling again to the surface of the bed, head and shoulder dropped lazily over the side, a smile on her face, her chest rising and falling, heavy, as she struggled to catch her breath.

I let her go then, looking up to my door, listening, making sure no one else had heard and was coming.

Nothing.

Pulling backwards I pulled her with me, just enough so that she could rest her head on the bed. I knew how it was to lay over the side like that, the blood rushing to your head. I thought she would have passed out again. With her laying there, I dropped myself down to rest against her, my head on her chest, my ear just over her heart. It was racing, pounding, like a heavy drum, I could hear it.

"I have to go," I heard her whisper then, still panting heavy underneath me.

I wanted to protest, lifting my head from her chest, watching her watch me. I wanted to tell her "don't" and that she didn't have to. But I knew that she did, that she couldn't be found in here, not with me, and not like this.

Slowly I sat up, and watched her as she got up from under me, sitting on the edge of my bed and reaching for her shirt. It was only after she had put it on and pulled it down that she turned to me, smiling as she leaned over closer to me, her lips just slightly going across mine at first, just so she could move back an inch or two and look me over. Her smile got deeper and she leaned into me again, taking the back of my neck in her hand as she pulled me close, kissing me hard; hard enough so I'd never forget it.

And I never would.

She ran her fingers through her hair as she got up, going towards my door to leave. She didn't look back, not to me, only stopping just long enough to listen and to look, to make sure she wouldn't be seen.

"Last night was great!" Candie said as she laughed and walked Jean Marie to the door.

She was leaving, Jean Marie. The weekend was over, and everyone had things to do for the week.

Holding one of Jean Marie's bags in her hand, Candie slung it over her shoulder as she looked out the door, waving to the ride that had come for Jean Marie, one of the guys from the other night. "Too bad you missed all of the fun, Marie." She laughed. "Toasted off your ass as ya were."

Smiling, Jean Marie shrugged, shifting her bag on her shoulder as she looked back to me, her dark lashes waving at me in a quick wink that my sister didn't see. "I wouldn't say my night was a total loss," she confessed. "I had my fun...And not a one complaint—at least on my part."

I swallowed hard, a crooked smile curling a single corner of my lips. I couldn't help it.

Leaning into Candie, she gave her a tight hug and kissed her good-bye on her cheek, leaving a pink glossy print. Candie rolled her eyes.

I didn't hear the rest of what they said, not even listening as they walked out the door together and towards the car that blared its horn in waiting. I watched as they opened up the trunk, my sister tossing in Jean Marie's bags and giving her another hug good-bye. They only talked for a few minutes more before the guy in the driver's seat reached and pulled at Jean Marie's wrist, telling her to "get in the god-damn car!" Jean Marie only smiled and rolled her eyes, yanking her wrist away as she started into the car, then stopped. I watched her as she caught sight of me in the window, stopping to pucker up her lips and blow back towards me a kiss. My half smile was a full on grin by the time she'd gotten into the car and closed the door. I groaned as I took a breath, listening to the car as it screeched off, kicking up dirt. All the way back to the house my sister was complaining, about—something, I wasn't listening. All I could think of was Marie, wondering when she'd come back to cure the hard-on I had already...