Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 73162 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73162 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Kane palms one of my breasts and squeezes lightly. Then he cups it and begins to run the pad of his thumb around and around the tight tip of my nipple.
Sparks of pleasure shoot through me. A guilty little voice in my head is shouting that I shouldn’t be doing this. I shouldn’t be letting my big brother caress my breasts while I jerk him off.
But it feels too good to stop. Kane’s spicy scent seems to invade my senses as I lean towards him, urging me on. I wonder if I smell as good to him as he does to me. I stroke him faster—I can’t lie, I want to make him come. I want to see him lose it and know that I’m the reason why.
Meanwhile the way he’s teasing my nipple is driving me crazy. His big hand is so warm and he’s pinching me now, tugging lightly and sending sparks of sensation straight down to my pussy, which is so wet I’m afraid I might leave a spot on the couch.
I feel Kane go rigid in my hand—his cock gets even bigger and harder, if that’s possible. And then he starts to cum.
My eyes get wide—I’ve never seen anything like this. I mean, I’ve seen Charles come before, when I didn’t feel like having sex and jerked him off instead. But he only pumped out one or two weak spurts and he was done.
With Kane, it’s different. His thick cock jerks in my hand and rope after rope of creamy white cum shoots from the tip, painting his hard abs and belly.
He’s not quiet when he comes either.
“Oh fuck, baby!” he groans, thrusting his shaft into my hand. “God, your soft little hand feels so fucking good! You’re making me come so fucking hard!”
I’ve never been with a man who’s vocal when he comes but I find that I like it—I like it a lot. It’s so hot that he lets me know how much he likes what I’m doing to him. Also, I can’t believe he’s still coming. I never knew a guy who made so much cum in my life!
At last Kane relaxes back against the couch with a satisfied groan and his shaft gets a little less hard in my hand, though it doesn’t go completely soft.
“God, baby—you don’t know how much I needed that,” he tells me. “I haven’t had a woman’s hands on me in so fucking long.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” I say, smiling. I liked it too, to be honest. It made me feel powerful to bring such a big, strong man to his knees, so to speak.
“Well…” Kane looks down at himself and makes a face. “Looks like I made a fucking mess.”
“Hang on—I’ll get something to clean you up,” I tell him.
I hop off the couch and run to the bathroom to get a wet washrag. But as I’m reaching for one from the stack in the linen cupboard, I noticed that some of Kane’s cum got on the back of my hand. Not surprising since there was so much of it.
Impulsively, I bring my hand to my mouth and lick it. I don’t know what makes me do it—I just want to taste him for some reason.
To my surprise, it tastes really good. Salty but sweet—a little spicy too, like cinnamon candy. How strange. I lick some more until my hand is clean. I know it’s a weird thing to do, but it seems like I can’t stop myself.
I look in the mirror and see a girl with flushed cheeks and her gown falling down to show her breasts. What am I doing?
I pull up the straps of my gown, hiding my breasts again—well, covering them anyway, there’s no hiding behind the thin, see-through fabric. If I’m honest, that’s why I bought it. Then I get on with business.
I run the water until it’s warm and get the washcloth good and wet before I wring it out. Then I carry it into the living room, where Kane is still sitting on the couch, his flat belly painted with his cream.
For just a split second, I have the urge to forget the washcloth and clean him with my tongue. I know that’s wrong—I shouldn’t want to do that with my big brother—shouldn’t crave the taste of his cream. But I can’t seem to help it—I want him.
I push the wanting aside and kneel beside him on the couch and start cleaning him up.
“Hey, it’s all right, baby—I can do that,” he objects.
“No, let me,” I insist in my bossiest voice. “I’m the one who made you make this mess—I should be the one to clean it up.”
“Well…all right.” He subsides, watching as I wipe his belly and shaft. To be honest, I really just want an excuse to handle him some more, but as I do, I can feel him getting hard all over again. Wow—he really has some stamina! Charles is usually only good for once a night, which I don’t mind because I don’t like sex with him anyway. But I really liked what I did with Kane just now. Does that make me wrong or sick?