When the Need Strikes - Chapter 2 - Sex Stories

When the Need Strikes - Chapter 2

... touching my brother’s. I’d been shocked, last time, when he’d…y’know…but again, the act is sort of a turn-on for me. I love cock-worship videos, and my favorites are always the ones where the girl got a load blown all over her face. My last boyfriend had enjoyed it just as much as I had, and in the last few months, I’d even considered paying him a visit, just for old time’s sake. If I was able to masturbate, I’m sure I’d have easily been able to get the whole thing out of my system. But 14 days had really started to take their hold on me—I’d hoped it would just go away after a while, but it had kept building and building and building, and now just the simple fact that there was a cock in my hand was starting to turn me on in itself. I felt like a pervert, some kind of sick fuck who was actually enjoying getting her brother off. At the same time, a small part of me couldn’t help but reason “Hey, if you have to do it anyway, you might as well get some pleasure out of it…” The thoughts wouldn’t stop racing through my mind—I was conflicted and aroused and angry at myself, and it wasn’t until I realized that Craig had been talking to me for a while that I snapped out of it. “Petra?” he was saying, and I looked at him in a weird, guilty shock. He’d been so much more assertive lately…just to add to the humiliation I was feeling, I even managed to find that to be a turn-on. “Yeah?” I said, acting as aloof and annoyed as possible. “I said slow down. Pay attention, would you?” Two ...

... weeks ago, I would have snapped at him, told him I didn’t have to keep going at all. But something indefinable had changed in our dynamic, and all I did was nod, apologize, and turn my efforts back into getting him off. “The sooner I get him off, the sooner I can get him out of here” I told myself, but a part of me didn’t want him gone. Some horrible part of me was enjoying this. What the hell was wrong with me? Pay attention, I told myself, and I began using both my hands. I used the best techniques I knew—one hand played with his balls while the other stroked him. My lube-coated hands were being used to great effect…and the more attention I paid to his hardness, the more I realized I was getting turned on by it. This would be so much easier if I just used my mouth, I told myself, before mentally swatting the stray thought away and trying to pretend that the cock in front of me didn’t belong to my brother. But it does, a voice said, and I silenced that one as quickly as possible. That was certainly something I wanted to think about as little as possible. Before long, my brother was gently thrusting forward, and soon after that I saw the condom filling up with his spunk. It didn’t look like nearly as much as last week, when it had managed to coat the entirety of my face. Gross, I thought, but without the conviction that I felt the thought deserved. “Thanks,” Craig said dismissively, tying the condom off and pulled his pants back up. “No worries,” I replied, pulling off the gloves ...