New and improved..
POV: I’m your older brother’s best friend. It’s his 30th birthday. The party is at your house, and we have been flirting all night. It wouldn’t be the first time. The tension has been building for years. We have known each other since we were kids. I’ve seen you grow, I’ve watched you blossom into the fine looking, successful woman you are today.
We’ve played together, laughed together, drank together, gotten stoned together, sang karaoke together into the early hours of the morning. Your music taste is one of my favourite things about you. Each song you choose shows me a new side of you, a new reason to appreciate you, a new link to the chain of our increasingly obvious compatibility. The way you look tonight, I can’t conceal my desire any longer. As always in your house, there’s a lively atmosphere. Especially tonight, with family flying in from England and the music turned up full. With so much going on around us, everyone is caught up in their own conversations. It’s the perfect time to make my move.
As we circle the kitchen table to fetch some finger food- and believe me, calculated as ever, the timing of my visit is not serendipity at play- I compliment you on how gorgeous you look tonight. I tell you that black is definitely your colour, and that you really suit your tattoos. I show you the ones I am planning to get, and ask you for advice on what artists I should go to. At the other end of the room, your father continues pouring me another whiskey. He delivers it to my hand and gives me a hearty pat on the back: “Get that down ye son.”
Your brother and the rest of the lads are outside telling stories, all of them oblivious about the escalating tension between us. Your father walks out to join them: “Are ye coming out?” I gesture to the table (“Yeah in a bit”), as if I’m still filling my plate, which is clearly already full to the brim.
“If you weren’t your brother’s sister..”, I say blithely, flashing you a cheeky, mischievous smirk before I sip my whiskey your father has just handed me and walk away to join the lads, allowing you to imagine where that sentence was going next. Your imagination is already running wild. For the rest of the night, I’m all you can think about. The most vivid images of what I would do to you if only we were left alone fill your mind. Your body language, your walk, your sheer absence of presence is different. I know that you’re fantasising about me. You already know I’ve got a big cock, your brother and the rest of the lads have alluded to it many times over the years when you’ve been in earshot. I want nothing more than for you to see it for real, to feel it, to taste it, to play with it, to worship it, to fuck me like you’ve never fucked anyone before. Like it’s the last cock you’ll ever have.
We keep exchanging eye contact throughout the night, sometimes right in front of your entire family. We look away almost instantly, trying to pierce each other’s souls as quickly as we can with one glance without being caught. The way I smile at you tells you more than my words ever could.
I’m sleeping in the spare room, which is upstairs and down a corridor far away from all of the other bedrooms. The most peaceful and isolated room in the house. The most perfect place for some discrete fun.
I send you a Snapchat. No caption, just my face. You begin typing back immediately: “I’ve been thinking about you all night.” “Same”, I reply. We are both tentative, what has been left unspoken for so long is about to be unleashed. We are both typing for about 5 minutes, but nobody says a thing. I’m usually more assertive and direct, but this is different. There’s so much at stake. If this ever got out.. I’d be the talk of the town. Your brother, as loyal as he could be to his friends, was ruthless with anyone that crossed him, and had a reputation for dishing out merciless beatings even several towns away. It didn’t need to be for much. On a really bad night, it wouldn’t be unusual for him to leave somebody motionless on the floor simply for looking at him the wrong way, and in a rural, predominantly Catholic community where anti-police sentiment was still rife, no matter how much blood he had spilled the chances of a night in a cell were slim at best.
Several years ago, he was a successful amateur fighter and on the verge of a professional MMA career, only for a medical examination to reveal he was missing half of his brain. Bellator cancelled his deal, and with the opportunity of a lifetime and his only dream scuppered, in the years since he had become bitter, resentful, and above all else, vengeful. The vicious maulings he had normally reserved for nights inside the cage had now become part and parcel of a typical weekend. Like a prime Michael Jordan, he would recollect on personal grievances from over the years, as far back as when we were kids, wrongs he had to put right, axes to grind, hypothesising on who it must have been that damaged his brain and destroyed his dreams. He was someone you knew to keep in your good graces, no matter what.
With the help of a few whiskeys, and the sight of your voluptuous curves bursting out of that demure black dress, all logic has gone out the window. Tonight I want you too much for good sense to prevail.
“Fuck it”, I say to myself. If I’m going to have you, it’s gonna have to be me to make the move. “Can I trust this convo is between us?”, I say. “Of course”, you reply instantly. “OK.. good”
“Can I share something with you? I’m very turned on right now..”, I continue. I use the camera emoji so you know my intentions are clear. “And I don’t expect anything back..”
“Please”, you say, the anticipation is driving you crazy. I stand up at the edge of the bed and give my already hard cock a few strokes. Never have I wanted it to look so good for someone. This needs to be perfect. I have already removed my chain before getting into bed, but since you’ve not so subtly hinted at me before at how much you like a man in a chain, I put it back on.
Taking a wide angle so you can see my entire body, I take the picture. “Come upstairs, nobody will hear us x”, says the caption.
It’s even bigger than you imagined. The length, the girth, the way the shadow of my thighs meets my throbbing cock, helmet glistening, desperate for your tongue. You’ve never seen a cock so suckable, and not only that.. but my body surprises you. My bulging biceps, my protruding chest, and of course; my thick and veiny cock. As much as you admire the rest of my body, each time you look at me your eyes are drawn back to it like a thousand magnets pulling your pupils toward their new master. It mesmerises you. When I fuck you, you know unequivocally that you’ll feel my power, my masculine force overpowering you, devouring you, communicating my passion and my lust in the most primal of ways. Your hand is already down your pants. You take a good, hard look.. savouring it, craving it.
You close your eyes, take a deep and slow inhale and imagine me rubbing the tip of my thick cock around your clit, which is pounding like a drum; I push inside you to the very same depth and tempo of your breath, straining, stretching you out as you wrap your pussy tightly around me. Every nerve, every muscle, every cell in your body is permeated with desire. You open them again and almost feel like I’m there with you, spreading your hips wide, massaging your clit with my tongue while looking into your eyes with a tenderness that lets you know in no uncertain terms how much you are cared for. Reaching your hand back down between your legs, you find with no surprise that you are already soaking wet. You’ve never let yourself be fully submissive, never have you trusted someone enough to fully own your body. But tonight might be the night.
Naked as the day you were born, you tiptoe to your chest of drawers, trying not to make any noise, and carefully choose your best lingerie set. True to the theme, the colour is black, eager to cater to my taste. Slipping it on, the sweet scent of your cherry blossom candle fills the room as you look at yourself in the mirror, gently roaming your hands all over your warm body and tilting your ass to the side, filling yourself with confidence before you make your way up the stairs. You throw on a dressing gown over the top. You open the door, as silently as you can. It creaks slightly as you poke your head out to look around. The coast is clear. You make your way towards the stairs. |
