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“Sissie, I promise, drinking lots of water before bed is really good for you,” Stevie coos, petting your hair and pressing the bottle back up to your lips. “Your body soaks it all up. Trust me, baby, I’m an athlete… Yep, there you go, jus’ like that… Just wanna get you niiice n’ hydrated, that’s all.”
Steve had beckoned you into his room well after the national anthem precluded TV; past the brilliant blistering of dusk, and the newfound kindling of midnight mast, long after the whole of Hawkins had fallen to sleep. Of course, there really wasn’t any harm in visiting your brother; it was nicer in his bed, the pillows softer, his blankets warmer. And despite your greatest efforts, you could never abstain from the alluring indulgence of snuggling safe in his bed.
That’s how it began. Then, all at once, you’re entangled beneath the sheets, sharing a cool water bottle procured from under his desk. His icy fingers caress your hairline, massaging your temple for a beat; it produces a greater high than the stronger stimulants you’ve seen off campus. You can’t help but feel a little tipsy under the rippling rhythm of asynchronous air. With Stevie’s breath beating down so hot on you, it’s impossible to harken anything else.
You had followed him so easily into his room; a “sibling sleepover” with little reason for debate. Still, you figured sleep would never come, what with those big brown eyes leering ever-so-hungrily down at you, as you finished your drink. But for some reason, you trusted him.
You always trusted him.
Waking up 4 hours later in a pissy puddle, though, was a rude awakening. From behind, Stevie rubs his cocklet on your wriggling ass, as he always does in fitful sleep; feigning unconscious, he nestles into your mess, grinding hard enough to squeak the bed — vulgar moans like gargled glass inside his throat. Your older brother really loves you so fuckin’ much… Too much; you’re such a pretty pissbabe for your Steve.
Contrarily, you’re mortified. This never happens — you’ve never done this. Tears brim your eyes once your Stevie wakes up, hushing and shushing all the while as his nimble fingers map the bed.
“You piss yourself, honey?” Steve coos as if it were less than obvious, his voice all syrupy with sleep. His warm hands retreat from your stomach, lightening their tenure there, and slither elsewhere for a beat. He thumbs down your frilly PJ shorts, along with your heather-grey thong, and checks your naked pussy on his fingers, arctic digits cold as hospital gloves.
“It’s a good thing I was here, huh, baby? S’okay. We’ve all pissed the bed… Even Daddy does, too. Here, let’s—”
The room spins. Steve guides your hand down over his cock, helping you tug off the stiff pants, and cants his thick dick high into the air. It’s so long, and full — stunningly erect, by way of artless happenstance — those frizzy ringlet curls fanning all around the base and sack. You feel drunken with fervor, heralding along the wicked spindle of sin, and long to scream from the skies your igniting addiction.
“—Let me show you,” he says.
He jerks his cock a little while he waits, those golden fluids finally trickling high and strong, dribbling back down onto his cock and balls. The water soaks him, the deluge flattening hair against skin, his puffy taint already glistening with grool and pre.
“See that, honey? Go ahead and touch it… Feel how messy that is,” Once again, he shepherds your hand, wrapping it around the filthied base. His grip tightens, as if to assure a fickle fawn, before he cradles his arms overhead, staring down through the smattering of hair across his chest. You stare back at him with an equal intensity, nuzzling your nose along the meat of his breast.
You turn your face to look at it, threading your fingertips through the tangled pubes around his girth, snuggling a little at the messy balls. You’ve touched him naked only once before; it was an accident, when he slipped in the shower — when he’d needed your help…
“So warm, huh? You like bein’ warm, don’t you, baby? Now we’re both a pissy mess,” Stevie purrs in your ear, rutting his crotch against your cozied palm. “Why don’t we go and take a bath, yeah? Wash all this icky mess away.”
Relieved by gentility, you nod, smiling, following his footsteps into the moonlit bath. You’re so secluded from the rest of the house here, it may as well be your brother’s bachelor pad. This was his father’s old room before his mother re-married; the old doghouse, even boorishly equipped with a jacuzzi tub. Steve had caught his father cheating there, this grave misdeed bestowing your step-brother unto you.
But there’s no place for blood bonds, now. Eager as Adam for Eve, Stevie discards your shirt, marveling at the peaked crest of your pebbled nipples.
His beautiful sis.
“Just gonna run some water while I sit on the tub, okay? Wouldn’t want you gettin’ cold — c’mere, pretty, lemme hold you… Snuggle up to stay warm.”
You bury your breasts in his open arms, letting the collective, tepid warmth permeate through your spine and down into your cunt. Now, your whole body keens; you just love it when he touches you. Try as you might, you couldn’t deny your older brother, and you would never want to.
Once you’re warm enough, his plush hands instructing your waist, you sink your ass down to the bottom of the tub, wrapping your arms around your legs as you settle into the sweltry bath. Not a second later, Steve wriggles off his shirt to join you there, kneeling down across the porcelain edge, and he kisses you slow.
“Scoot over, honey. Good girl. Lemme sit behind you,”
You do as he says, permitting room for beefy legs. You reach beneath the water to stroke the hair across his thighs, his knees… His fuzzy body curls up against you, and you can relax now that you’re here with your Steve.
“Thas’ my good girl. My sweet, pissy angel… Daddy’s gonna rub you all clean.”
His muscled forearm settles over your chest, Steve’s open palm massaging your legs, smoothing soap along your skin with a gentle caress. When he travels upward toward your cunt, Stevie plays with your pretty hair, splaying his fingers open wide to resurface your clit. He edges his thumb up and under your peak, digging deeper to your jewel, and chuckles when you gasp.
“Such a cute little bush for a cute little puss. You want Daddy to touch your clitty, sugar? That feel really-really good?”
“Uh-huh,” you whine, nearly absconding your good manners. “Please, Daddy, need it so, s’bad…”
“Yeah, baby? So polite,” he commends, affording pressure to your clit. “Such a good girl, pissin’ all over Daddy to keep him warm. Daddy loves your pissy puddles.”
“I love you, Stevie,” you whine, needy, nearly cross-eyed in lust, and cant your hips along his cradled hand. Stevie meets you there, as fast or slow as you need, slotting his knuckles deep into your hole. “Want more’a Daddy’s hot piss…”
Tsk tsk. “Not yet, dollie. Gotta get you clean, first — then maybe we can work on somethin’ for you to suckle.”
You sink deeper into the crystalline syrup of soap, prismatic bubbles further enticing your stay, and relax into his body with an elated sigh. Idly, you pump the soap, reaching a fistful of suds around your back to slick over his cock.
“Nngh— aah…” Stevie jolts, and his whole body sings for you. “If you keep on doing that, Daddy’s gonna cum inside the bath.”
It’s not a good reason to stop, or so you think. Cleopatra bathed in honey and milk, so why shouldn’t you? Need your brother’s thick seed against your hot, wriggling ass —
“Need your fuckbabies, Steve,”
It’s a thoughtless response, a veritable prattle of the id, though you spare no time in spreading your cunt against his cock. Canted forward like that, Steve can feel his nutsack pressing up on your lips…
He doesn’t waste his moment thinking, fucking it into your hole with a dizzying sigh. He presses you Down honey, down. You gotta take it all — fully sat atop his cock, waters rising in depth. Snug around the fat girth of your Daddy’s big dick, his fingers teasing your clit, he coaxes you further under his riveting spell.
“So good, sugar… You’re so good f’me, aren’t you? Mhm, honey, I know that you are. Can’t help it, you’re such a pissy little angel.”
You couldn’t hold it in even if you tried, gushing squirt around his cock, translucent cum and slick finally flooding his balls. You needed this, you needed him, and you smile in your stupor, thoroughly dazed and confused, waiting for the aftershocks to trickle through.
“Shit, oh my god—” Steve cries, over-stimming too soon, and humps his jizz in your hole. You’re his baby, his pretty baby, and a sailor’s wet dream, even when the moment ends;
“Daddy,” you cry, and there are tears in your eyes as you turn to straddle his cock. You fuck the limp tip deeper into your sex, cuddling the sides of his face. “ ’m sorry I’m such a messy girl,”
“Oh, honey,” he coos, his brown eyes as soft as can be. “Maybe you should come stay with me for the next few nights. Come sleep over with Steve so I can help when you get like this,”
You nod, humping his dick when it slips out.
“And then, if you’re a good girl, maybe Steve could kiss up your sticky mess, next time.” His weathered voice is feather-light in your ear, his throbbing hand stroking the base of your neck as you paw at the fur across his chest.
“Let’s get you dried off,” he begins. “Let’s go lie down, so Daddy can jerk his cock for you to suck.”