First and last night with my stepbrother

First, I would like to introduce myself and say a few words about myself. My name is Sarah; I am a rather diligent and cheerful 18-year-old girl. I am an average student of one of the industrial technical schools in the expanse of our great and vast homeland. I am not a tall brunette; I am pretty slim, with neat breasts of B-size. And so it was fate that a dozen years ago, I had a half-brother, Andrew, a couple of years older than me.

We never felt particularly warm feelings for each other, but we tried not to spoil life unnecessarily. To my great happiness, my parents sent us to different educational institutions. In addition, my brother had already finished his studies and was going to leave for the capital to continue his studies at the university's distance learning department. I was happy I would have to see him even less in my hometown.

But as it soon turned out, I was not interested in my brother for nothing and tried to ignore him. It so happened that my boyfriend James communicated with some close friends of my brother, and on the eve of his departure, we found ourselves in the same flat. Until then, I had no idea that an unremarkable guy could turn out to be a great ringleader and organise a raucous party. The noise was wild, and how the 4-room flat survived the crowd of inadequate students remains in question.

Beer, vodka, wine, and music were blaring, and everyone was dancing, joking, and singing. And by the very height, I had already managed to fight with my boyfriend, who became a blatant jerk as soon as alcohol got into the blood. Why did I put up with him for more than six months? On the advice of my friends, I chose a lover with a big cock and suffered, as you have already realised, not only because of the size. Twenty-odd centimetres is good if the guy knows how to use it. But no matter how I wriggled, no matter what positions I tried, I cum only with my own help. And the lad learnt two positions, so I guess he stopped there.

And here came the moment when the cup of patience was overflowing. The guy got into a scuffle with some stranger, and when I tried to calm him down, I got a slap. The music stopped abruptly at that moment, and I heard my brother's quiet but very sonorous voice.

"Stop it, you drunken bastard."

Even though he spoke in a measured voice and didn't shout, everyone around him turned pale. I felt uneasy myself. I never thought that, in one phrase, there could be so much threat. My soon-to-be ex-boyfriend seemed to realise it, too.

"Now, you'll go to the bedroom and sleep it off. And when you sober up, we'll talk," continued Andrew.

"And if I don't?" Judging by the way he was talking, James was in complete condition.

"You hit my sister. The only reason you're still alive is because you're drunk as shit."

"Andrew, calm down..." one of his friends said.

"Stay out of the way. James, go to the bedroom now. We'll talk in the morning."

Strangely enough, my naughty boy pulled himself together. And apparently feeling guilty, he went to sleep it off. He fell asleep quickly enough and after a couple of minutes I heard a loud snore.

Everyone around me started to calm down, and as you might think, the party or hangout was getting back on track. But now I was looking at my brother with undisguised gratitude. And as soon as he came to me, I felt my heart start to beat more often. Andrew gently put his arm around my shoulders:

"Are you okay?"

"More or less. It wasn't the first time I'd seen such a picture. But this is the first time I got hit in the face. Luckily, not hard."

"I'm sorry. I should have beaten him up."

"And then call an ambulance or the police? If it's peaceful, that's the best option." I hate fighting. Because if I do, I have to take care of the guy with the broken face.

The rest of the night went by so fast that I didn't remember much of the conversation. We talked to my brother, got drunk together, smoked on the balcony, and looked at the stars. I don't remember what he said or what I said, but I remember very well that with each phrase, not friendly feelings grew in me.

And when we were dancing to some slow music, I began to press closer and closer to my brother. I didn't care if he was stepbrother or sibling at that moment. Whether it was right or wrong. Soon, I sensed that he was interested in my closeness, too. And not by his hands, which were below my waist, but just a little bit touching my bottom. Something was touching me on the other side, already quite tangible. I already guessed that he wouldn't beat my boyfriend in size. But I wanted sex so badly, with someone who wouldn't look at me like a piece of meat. I could smell his hair, which was already a little dishevelled, and I was wildly turned on. I don't know if the others were paying attention to us. It was dark, and everyone was pretty drunk. I pulled my head away from Andrew's chest and reached for his lips. And how glad I was when he responded to my kiss. I became very warm in the area of my chest, and in the area of my stomach. And the heat between my legs was so intense that I didn't even know it existed.

"Can we continue?" I said timidly as our tongues and lips parted.

"Maybe we shouldn't."

"I don't care, I don't care about anything. I want you."

I don't know how many seconds passed as we moved from the living room to one of the rooms. My brother played sensuously with my breasts, moving down to my thighs with passionate kisses. I trembled languidly and couldn't hold back my moans.

You know, my friends told me about good sex. About powerful orgasms, about foreplay. Previously, I had been limited to blowjobs and banal fucking in one of two positions. But now it was different. Not a couple of minutes later, I was without panties. And my brother was gently caressing my pussy. AND GODDAMN IT! Not only does he know where the clitoris is, but he knows how to stimulate it. I was dizzy with pleasure, and foreplay turned into cunnies. Believe it or not. No one had ever licked me before. And when I felt Andrew's tense tongue between my legs, I had to close my mouth. Otherwise, I would have screamed so that I would have been heard not only in the neighbouring flat but also in the parallel street. My eyes went dark, my heart was pounding so hard I could hear my pulse in my head, and my body collapsed in voluptuous tenderness. Apparently, that's what a real orgasm is supposed to feel like.

Slowly, I began to come to my senses.

"Fuck me, please, hurry." I don't really know how to encourage guys. But whether it worked or not, my brother already knew what to do.

He gently slid his stiff cock into my heated bosom. By this point, I was leaking in a way that was hard to describe. And then it caught my eye that this was the room to which a specific alcoholic had gone earlier. And in case you're missing the point, it was my boyfriend.

"Andrew, look!" I tried to whisper quietly, but it didn't really work.

"Oh, fuck! What am I supposed to do now?"

"Check to see how soundly he was asleep." In my drunken head, I already had an insidious plan of revenge fuelled by my thirst for pleasure.

Unfortunately, I was interrupted for a moment. But when it became clear that James was sleeping like a dead man, I lay right on top of him and spread my legs in front of Andrew again. He hovered in surprise.

"Are you going to wait much longer, or can you finally fuck me properly?"

"Either you are the best sister in the world or the most egregious whore," with these words, he put his cock inside me again.

My brother began to slowly but assertively build up the momentum. I had reached that level of arousal when I wanted tenderness and romance but a good whipping. Andrew realised this and pounded into my wet pussy so fervently that my eyes rolled back from the buzz. I was practically out of control. Scratching his back, biting his shoulders to keep from screaming louder than necessary.

"Into m-m-m-m-m-m-me..." I tried to say, fighting the moans.

And my brother didn't say no. I could feel his cock throbbing, hot cum spurting out of it and filling me. This time we cum together. I felt myself sobering up and realised that this night could be the only night and I didn't want to stay in debt. And the score was two to one. Quickly dragging my brother over to the other bed, I pounced on his collapsed penis. Some of his cum dripped down my thighs, and I licked the rest off his dignity. One of my naughty hands was actively fondling his scrotum. The other was guiding his cock into my mouth. I tried not to stop and ran my tongue over the head, over the balls. His cock tasted so good, mixed with his seed and my juices. I didn't even realise when he tensed up again, but I just kept swallowing, deeper and deeper. And soon, I felt him shuddering again. Only this time, the cum was spurting down my throat, and I swallowed every last drop.

My brother and I left home early in the morning in a taxi. By evening, he had left for the capital by train, and I listened to my boyfriend's howls of apology over the phone. But snot, drool, and forgiveness through humiliation with a strapon are part of another story.