﻿Helpful Hannah
by Pan



Genre: Incest
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-20 18:17:10
Updated: 2020-01-20 07:56:43
Packaged: 2020-03-03 23:12:58
Rating: Stroke Story
Chapters: 14
Words: 40,306
Publisher: storiesonline.net
Story URL: https://storiesonline.net/s/21502
Author URL: https://storiesonline.net/a/pan
Summary: Hannah's brother is unable to achieve orgasm...can Hannah help him?





TABLE OF CONTENTS


Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Epilogue



	Chapter 1

**1:**

I couldn’t believe it when my brother asked me for help. He’s always seemed so in control of things - he’s about five years older than me, and ... well, he’s one of the coolest guys that I know. He’s in pretty good shape, he’s smart, funny, blah blah blah. He’s always seemed so good with women, so when he told me his problem, I was a little bit skeptical.

We’d just been hanging around on the couch when he’d told me - it was a psychological thing, he said, and it had begun to seriously affect his relationships. He told me that coming to me for help was one of the hardest things that he’d ever done, but he didn’t know what else to do.

My mouth was open the whole time he spoke, and when he was done I was utterly speechless. On one hand, I loved my brother and wanted to help him out however I could (and I could certainly see why he’d come to me) ... but on the other hand, it was by far the strangest thing that anyone had ever asked me.

He said that he’d give me a few days to think about it, and when he left, I must have sat there in shock for like twenty minutes, just absorbing the information I’d just been given.

My brother had told me that he couldn’t...”achieve climax” ... when he was with another person. No matter what. He could “peak” by himself, but as soon as someone else was there he just got far too anxious, and ended up losing his erection. It had put a crimp in every relationship he’d ever had, and no matter how supportive the girl, they always ended up feeling like it was their fault. Ever since my brother started dating, he’s pretty much never been single, but this certainly explained why he so often had a different girl on his arm.

He needed a girl that he was utterly, utterly comfortable with, he’d told me - someone who he trusted unconditionally not to laugh, or judge him in any way. It helped, too, that he didn’t see me in even a remotely sexual light (something that I was extremely glad to hear, as you can imagine) because it meant he didn’t run the risk of feeling “pressured” or like he was going to offend me if he didn’t perform.

It took me a few days to give him an answer, and I can tell you, those were three of the most awkward days of my life. Every time I saw him, I thought about what he was asking me to do - sit in a room with him and watch him jerk off.

After a lot of consideration, I decided not to tell my boyfriend about it. For one, my brother had told me that it was the most embarrassing secret of his life, and that it had taken him a while to build up the courage to even tell me at all. Secondly, I was pretty sure that I was going to do it - I love my brother, and if it was this much a problem in his life, of course I wanted to do what I could to help him. My boyfriend would probably have tried to talk me out of it, or thought I was a freak, or even gotten jealous or something like that. Thirdly, I wanted to make sure it didn’t get out! If anyone else ever heard that I was the girl who watched her brother jerk off, I knew I’d never escape it ... When I told my brother that I was happy to help him, he got this huge look of relief on his face.

“Thanks, sis...” he said. “I was so worried that you were going to think I was a perv, or never speak to me again ... I really love you, and I swear I’ll repay you some day...”

I laughed nervously at his gratitude, and told him not to worry about it. We agreed to start the next night, when our parents would be out and we could have the house to ourselves. To make this weird situation as un-weird as possible, we agreed to do it in the lounge.

The night that I told my brother I’d help, I went around to my boyfriend’s house and asked him if he’d jerk off in front of me.

“Uh, sure...” he said, and to his credit didn’t even ask why.

It was interesting. I’ve slept with more than a couple of guys, and fooled around in all other kinds of ways, but I’ve never actually watched someone jerk off before. Maybe everyone does it differently - my boyfriend pulled out some lube that I didn’t know he had. I wanted to make it sexy, so I stripped down to my underwear, and sat next to him on the bed. The plan was to take my bra off slowly as he kept going, maybe join in myself toward the end, but I was so fascinated watching him that I completely forgot about that and just watched as his fist pumped up and down.

He got that familiar look in his eyes as he got closer and closer, and when he came, shooting his stuff onto his chest, I couldn’t believe how sexy it was. Right before his climax, his cock-head had grown red and sort of angry-looking - I’ve jerked guys off before, but never really watched their cocks as they did. I’ve always been more focused on their eyes, or their chest, or what they’re doing to me with their hands ... It was really hot, watching my boyfriend cum, and after he cleaned up, I asked if he was up for another one. It was only after we’d fucked, when I was snuggled up next to him in that post-orgasm bliss, that an alarming thought came into my head: What if I found it sexy to watch my brother?

**2:**

“Thanks again for doing this,” my brother said, his usual confident mannerisms gone, replaced by a nervous look in his eyes and a slight stammer in his voice. “I can’t explain how grateful... -”

“It’s okay,” I interrupted with a smile, waving away his thanks. “Whatever I can do to help. Now ... how do you want to do this?”

I’d spent the whole day with butterflies in my stomach, knowing that this was coming this evening (hoping that my brother would be too, so we only had to do this once). As the evening had grown closer and closer, however, I’d started to relax. He was my brother, my flesh and blood ... I’d never even had a remotely sexual thought about him, and even if I did watch him rub himself for a few minutes, that didn’t mean that anything was going to change.

By the time nine o’clock had come around, the “Everything will be fine” mantra was firmly entrenched in my head. Everything was going to be fine. I’d put on a pair of loose-fitting jeans and a baggy T-shirt, gone downstairs, and found my brother pacing up and down.

“I guess, uh...” he said, looking around. “What if ... what if I sit here on this couch, and you sit across from me?”

“Sure thing,” I said, as lightly as I possibly could. I sat where he’d gestured, my legs curled up underneath me, and there was a strange silence as we looked each other in the eyes ... until we both burst out laughing at the same time.

“This is weird, isn’t it?” he said, and I nodded.

“Super weird. Let’s get it over with.”

“You’re the boss,” he said, and dropped his pants to reveal the bulge underneath.

I’d never spent any time thinking about the size of my brother’s cock - it’s not exactly a topic that comes up much, hey? But if I had, it would have definitely been smaller in my imagination than it was in real life. He didn’t have the largest cock I’d ever seen, but it was definitely close, probably a bit over eight inches. Thick, too, and despite his obvious nervousness, it was already hard.

He sat down opposite me, looked me in the eyes, and simply said “Well ... here we go.”

In that moment, I wished that I’d asked him ahead of time what would have been most helpful for me to do. Was I meant to have brought a book? It would have felt rude to just pull out my iPhone and start seeing how quickly I could destroy the green pigs, but I also didn’t want to stare at his penis like he was a circus freak.

For the first few minutes, I just stared into his eyes. Then I think we both realized how weird that was - he looked away, and I did as well, until my attention was inevitably drawn to his hand, pumping up and down his member.

I mean, you can’t **not** look, can you? I’d only ever seen my boyfriend masturbate before, and I think it’s human nature to want to compare. Unlike my boyfriend, for example, my brother isn’t circumsized, and didn’t use any lube. I don’t know if that’s **why** he didn’t use lube, but with every stroke, his foreskin bunched up around his head, and it looked like that was stimulating enough to get him off.

His hand kept on pumping, up and down, over and over ... it was almost hypnotic, and once I started watching, I couldn’t look away. His hand moved in such a steady rhythm - up and down and up and down. When my boyfriend had masturbated for me, it had only lasted a few minutes, but due to his problem, my brother would obviously be going for some time.

Up and down and up and down ... it was such a soothing thing to watch. That same repetitive movement, over and over. I found myself losing sight of everything else - all I was aware of was my own breathing, and the constant, fluid motion of my brother’s hand, as he repeated the same motion over and over again. Over and over and over and over ... While watching, my mind began to clear of thoughts. I was so happy to be helping my brother. Helping their brothers is what good little sisters do ... I wanted to help my brother. I wanted to be there for him, to do what I could. It was good that I was being so helpful - I was a good sister for helping my brother. It wasn’t even weird, not any more ... watching my brother jerk off wasn’t weird. It was a normal, good, helpful thing that I was doing.

I was helping my brother. I was a good little sister. His hand never deviated from its steady pattern as I watched it pump up and down and up and down ... I focussed on his foreskin, bunching up and releasing. Releasing. I was helping my brother get release. I was a good little sister ... At one point, I realized that my brother had been speaking to me for some time. He repeated my name a few times, and that was what snapped me out of it - blinked twice, looked up, and was amazed to discover that I’d been watching him masturbate for almost forty minutes.

“I’m sorry,” he said, even as he continued to jerk off in front of me. “I don’t think it’s going to happen, at least not tonight...”

“That’s fine,” I said, strangely spacey. “Uh, is there anything I can do to help?”

**Where had that thought come from?**

“No, no,” he said, “you’ve been amazing. Thanks so much. Is it ... um, is it okay if we do this again some time? It’s been really useful, just making me feel more comfortable...”

“Sure thing,” I said, and suddenly noticed that my attention had drifted back to his cock. “Uh, that’s fine.”

I watched him jerk off for a few more minutes, glad that we’d done this - now that we’d broken the ice, it wasn’t weird. It was just a little sister helping her brother. After a while, however, he stopped, pulled his pants back up, and thanked me for my help.

****3:**** I was glad that it didn’t take us long to find another day when I could help my brother out: if we waited too long, we ran the risk of things getting weird again, but it was less than a week before we had the house to ourselves once more.

In the meantime, to my relief, things hadn’t gotten awkward at all between us - neither of us had mentioned what had happened, of course, especially since we absolutely didn’t want our parents to suspect - and when we had spoken, it had been normal, light-hearted jokey conversation.

We sat down in the same positions as last time, me on the couch, dressed in a set of unflattering pajamas, my brother across from me. He didn’t pull his pants all the way down this time, just unzipped his jeans and brought his cock out.

My eyes went straight to it, and neither of us said anything as he began to masturbate once more.

Probably because I’d not really encountered it much, but it really was fascinating to watch someone jerk off. I’d considered asking my boyfriend to do it again, but I didn’t want him to get suspicious - I’d even considered going online and finding some videos. I hear there’s some video chat site which, if you stay on it for long enough, inevitably leads to looking at some dude’s junk.

I hadn’t gone far enough to find out what the name of the site was, but I won’t deny that I was curious.

Instead, my sudden interest in male masturbation had waited until now, when my brother’s hand wrapped around his cock, and once more started to pump, up and down.

Up and down. Up and down. Foreskin bunched, and then taut. Bunched and then taut, up and down, up and down ... As I watched, I started to think about my own masturbation process. Was it as rhythmic as this? My brother’s hand went up and down. It was like watching rowers - stroke, stroke, stroke, stroke.

The thing that surprised me the most was how relaxing it was. I could see why my brother had chosen me, now - it was so comfortable, watching a sibling masturbate. There was no pressure, no tension ... I could feel all the tension sliding out of me as I watched my brother. Stroke, stroke, up and down, up and down ... I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt this relaxed. As my brother’s hand slowly repeated its motion, up and down and up and down, I felt myself slipping deeper and deeper into relaxation. Every muscle in my body was loose ... I was a puddle of calm. I trusted my brother unconditionally - I loved him, and wanted to help him. I wanted to help my brother. Up and down ... Again, my mind went back to my own masturbation. When I played with myself, did I just repeat the same motion over and over? No, of course not - I mixed things up again. I played with my clit for a bit, then ran my hands all over my body. I stroked the lips of my pussy, sometimes inserting a finger or two. I alternated between self-stimulation and toys ... I didn’t just repeat the same rhythm, over and over. Over and over. Relaxed. Trust.

Nothing was as relaxing as watching my sibling masturbate. Watching my brother masturbate relaxed me.

I’m embarrassed to say what happened next - I know I shouldn’t be. My brother assured me that it was fine, that it hadn’t stopped his progress or been hugely unhelpful or anything like that - he’d told me that it made sense, that it was his fault for suggesting we start so late. But as I sat there, watching the motion of my brother’s hand, pumping up and down and up and down his cock, over and over ... I fell asleep.

Not for long, I’m told. Maybe ten minutes at most. As soon as he noticed, my brother said, he woke me up, but I was still embarrassed as hell, especially since I had no way of knowing whether or not I made any noise in that time.

See, when I was asleep, I had a dream. Not a sex dream, not exactly, but I dreamed that as I sat there on the couch, opposite my brother, I decided to masturbate.

In the dream, it made complete sense. After all, this whole exercise was to make sure that my brother was more comfortable, and how could he be comfortable masturbating in front of me if I wasn’t willing to do the same? So I’d kept my eyes on his junk, slipped one hand down my pants, and begun to slowly rub my fingers up and down my panties, tracing the curve of my lips, enjoying the warm feeling building inside of me.

My actions had caused an immediate effect - as soon as my brother saw what I was doing, he’d begun to speed up, stroking his cock faster and faster. In turn, that had gotten me more excited - I’d slipped one hand up my top, and begun pinching my nipple, enjoying the sharp combination of pleasure and pain.

Even though my eyes never left the sight of his hand, pumping his cock without stopping, up and down and up and down, I somehow knew that he was smiling, that he was enjoying the sight of his little sister getting herself off. And why wouldn’t he? I know I’m attractive, and if I can use my body to help my brother, then I should. I love my brother. I want to help my brother however I can. I should use my body to help my brother.

All of these thoughts were running through my mind on loop as I pushed my panties aside, and veritably attacked my clit - I was so wet that every slippery stroke felt better and better, and in just a few minutes, I was as turned on as I’d ever been. Small moans and grunts and sighs were escaping my mouth, and I could see the head of my brother’s cock turning an angry red, just as my boyfriend’s had. He was getting to close - I was being so helpful. I was a helpful little sister, helping my brother cum ... No matter how close I got to release, however, I couldn’t cum, not until I’d helped my brother. That was what I was here for, after all, and so I continued to play with my soaked pussy as my brother jerked himself, his hand moving faster and faster, and mine following suit ... Finally, the eye of his cock opened up, and he began to fire - one, two, three, four glorious spurts of cum emerged from his cock, firing upward. My eyes followed them even as I came, jerking and twitching around my own hand, the most powerful orgasm I could ever remember having.

After I came in my dream, my eyes closed, and when they reopened, I was awake, and my brother was standing over me, an amused look on his face.

“Oh, Jesus...” I said, as I realized what had happened. “I’m so sorry...”

“It’s fine,” he replied, and when I asked if he’d managed to climax, just shook his head sadly.

“Next time,” I said, feeling so guilty for falling asleep in the middle of helping him. “We’ll do it again, and soon - I’m going to help you get over this, bro, if it’s the last thing I do...”


	Chapter 2

The next night, after my parents went out, I wandered into the lounge-room and asked my brother if he wanted to try again.

He’d come to me a bit over a week ago with a problem - he had this weird psychological block where if there was someone else in the room, he couldn’t cum. It had been systematically ruining his relationships, and so in desperation, he’d turned to me for help - he wanted to use me as a ... a kind of therapy, I guess. A way of getting over it.

My brother had asked if he could masturbate in front of me - as his sister, it wouldn’t be a sexual thing at all, just a way of helping him get over his problem. If he could cum in front of me, then he was sure he’d be able to find a way of cumming with others.

I’d agreed to help him, of course - weird though it was, who else could he turn to?

This would be the third time we’d tried it. The first time had been a useful ice-breaker, but nothing had happened - I’d just sat there, watching his hand stroke up and down his dick for forty minutes, as he got no closer to finding release. The second time, last night ... I’d fallen asleep.

Embarrassing, huh? In my defense, it was ridiculously relaxing - that’s why he’d approached me in the first place, I realized. Masturbating for your sibling wasn’t stressful at all, it was relaxing - **really** relaxing, if I’m being honest.

That was partially why I’d approached him again so soon, in fact. I mean, on one hand sure, I wanted to help my brother out, but I’d also had a really stressful day, and the idea of sitting on the couch and just watching my brother jerk off was more appealing than it should have been.

Not for sexual reasons though. Just because it ... well, like I said, it was really calm. Peaceful, almost.

He said yes, and took no time in lowering his pants, pulling out his already-hard dick and starting the motion that was becoming increasingly familiar to me.

I sat on the couch opposite him and just watched as his hand wrapped around his cock, and started moving. Up and down ... up and down ... stroke, stroke, stroke, stroke.

I have no idea why I found the motion so relaxing, but I did. As he continued to masturbate, he started to speak, so softly that I could barely hear him.

“Keep watching,” I think he murmured. “Don’t worry about what I’m saying ... just keep watching my hand.”

I figured that he just wanted to talk dirty. I know whenever my boyfriend and I fuck, he talks dirty just before he cums - my big brother mustn’t have wanted to become self-conscious, and so I did as he asked and tuned out his words, just letting them wash over me while I watched his hand grasping his hard dick, slowly pumping up and down and up and down. Up and down, over and over.

As I watched, my thoughts began to wander, and I started thinking about the dream that I had last night, when I’d fallen asleep in front of my masturbating brother. I’d gotten myself off in the dream, and it had been amazing - it had been fun, and sexy, and oh-so-relaxing. I always masturbate when I’m in a tense situation, I always have. It’s the world’s greatest stress reliever, and any time I’m feeling even remotely anxious or worried, I reach into my pants and masturbate.

Masturbation removes all the tension from my life - I love to masturbate. It’s hardly even a sexual thing, it’s just something that I do to make sure I’m not stressed. My brother, I’m sure, is the same way - he certainly didn’t look stressed, his cock turgid and slightly purple, his foreskin bunching up around his head, over and over.

Tense, and release. The motion repeated itself endlessly. Tense and release ... tense and release ... Tense. I was feeling a bit tense, I suddenly realized. Probably because my brother was having trouble cumming. Yes, that was it. My brother’s anguish was making me tense, and he could see it. It was making him tense, and he wasn’t going to be able to cum, not if he was too tense ... and after all, that was why we were doing this. We were in this room to help my brother. I wanted to help my brother, and I couldn’t do that if I was feeling tense.

An idea suddenly popped into my head, and I couldn’t shake it: I should masturbate. I should masturbate in front of my brother. I should masturbate while my brother jerks off in front of him. I should masturbate while watching my brother. I should get myself off while watching my brother’s cock.

I tried to dismiss the thought - of course I couldn’t masturbate in front of my brother ... but the more I thought about it, the better the idea seemed.

If I masturbated in front of my brother, it would help me relax, and that would help him relax ... and if he was relaxed, he was way more likely to cum. And I was here to help my brother cum. I wanted to help my brother cum. That was my purpose ... no, that didn’t seem right. I shook my head slightly, but before I could clear my head, I mentally corrected myself.

That was the purpose of us being here. To help my brother cum. I wanted to help my brother cum, that’s why we were here.

Of course.

“Hey...” I said, continuing to stare at my brother’s hand as it pumped up and down his cock, over and over.

“Yeah, Hannah?” he replied.

“I was wondering ... oh man, this is going to sound weird.”

“No, say it,” he said. Say it. Say it, Hannah. Say it.

“I was thinking ... would it help if I masturbated as well?”

“Yes,” he said, and I felt a surge of pleasure. It would definitely help. I was helping my brother. That’s why I was here. I was here to help my brother.

“Great,” I said, as casually as I could, and slipped my hand into my already-soaked panties.

Without even meaning to, I found my rhythm matching my brother’s, and we sat there for another fifteen minutes or so, his hand stroking up and down his cock, mine rubbing up against my pussy lips and clit.

I loved helping my brother. I was here to help my brother. The purpose of these visits was to help my brother cum. I wanted my brother to cum. I wanted to do everything I could to help my brother cum. My purpose ... was to help my brother cum.

It was that thought that overcame me when I finally did cum. I hope I’m not coming across as a freak, cumming while staring at my brother’s cock - like I said, there was absolutely nothing sexual about it. It was more like a medical thing - I was there to help my brother cum, and getting myself off was just a way of showing him how relaxed I was about it.

There was nothing weird about two siblings in a room, masturbating together. It was totally fine.

At the sight of my orgasm, my brother’s cock seemed to swell up slightly, but to my disappointment, nothing came out. Looked like it had been another unsuccessful night - I offered to stay and watch for a bit longer, but he said not to worry about it, and that we could try again soon.

“Of course,” I replied. “We’ll do whatever it takes, bro.”

* * *

Our parents were home for the next few nights, so my brother and I didn’t get a chance to do anything until the end of the week. In the meantime, I’d found myself masturbating a lot more ... I wasn’t particularly horny or anything, it just really helped me relax. My life is hardly super-stressful, but every time I found myself getting even slightly tense, I’d make an excuse, slip off, and find a bathroom to get myself off in.

Like I said, it wasn’t because I was turned on - it was just a tension-reliever. And so naturally, when I did, I thought about the most relaxing sight that I could - my brother’s hand, slowly pumping up and down his cock.

It really helped, I can tell you that. Within no time, an orgasm was sweeping my body, and I was able to return to the classroom or the dinner-table or wherever I’d been, a huge smile on my face, ready to face whatever else the day brought.

So when my brother asked what I was doing that night, while my parents were out of the house, of course I said that I’d help him out. What else are little sisters for, hey?

We settled down in our usual positions on the couches, and as my brother’s underpants slid down, I felt a huge wave of relaxation spread over me. I’d already been feeling pretty good, but there was something about seeing his cock right there in the flesh that really made all my worries slip away.

Without a word, I put my own hand down my pants, and we started.

As usual, my brother started his murmuring, but I just tuned it out and focussed all my attention on that big, beautiful cock of his. Beautiful ... what a strange word to describe your sibling’s junk, hey? But as I watched, I realized that it really was beautiful. My brother has a beautiful cock. My brother has a big, beautiful cock.

Up and down, up and down.

As I watched, I found myself getting ... well, I want to say “worked up”, but I don’t want you to get the wrong idea. I wasn’t getting horny or anything like that, just ... agitated. Annoyed, I guess. My brother’s cock is so beautiful, capable of bringing him so much pleasure - but for whatever stupid reasons, he can’t.

My brother should be able to cum. My brother **needs** to be able to cum. And as his sister, as the only person who can help him, it’s my job - my **duty** \- to help him cum.

I wanted to help my brother cum. I wanted my brother to be able to cum. I want my brother to cum. I want to help my brother cum.

My fingers slipped deeper inside my pussy as I sat there, rubbing myself, picturing my brother cumming. It was going to be so beautiful when it happened - and I knew it was going to happen. I was going to do whatever I could to help him.

I’d do whatever I could to help my brother cum, wouldn’t I? Yes. Yes, I wanted my brother to cum, and I’d do **whatever** I could to make it happen.

Thus far I’d been doing the bare minimum. I’d been watching him jerk off, watching his hand stroke that beautiful cock up and down and up and down, over and over ... I’d been watching him stroke ... stroke, stroke.

I’d been watching my brother jerk off, and I’d been getting myself off to help him relax, but that was all. That was all I’d been doing - how selfish of me! I’d been a selfish sister. I’d been a selfish sister, and I wanted to help my brother cum.

I let that thought sink into my head as I watched. God I loved watching my brother jerk off. It was a weird thing to admit, but it was just so ... relaxing. No, more than that - it was aesthetically pleasing as well. My brother had a nice cock. I like looking at my brother’s cock.

I want to help my brother cum.

Without even meaning to, I blurted out “Hey is there anything I can do?”

“Huh?” he asked, looking at me, and my face went red. God, I must sound like such a pervert ... he was going to totally misinterpret that.

“I was just ... is there anything I can ... do? Like, to help?”

“Oh god, no!” he said, so quickly that my face burned even hotter. He sounded repulsed at the idea. “Jesus, sis, no ... you’re doing so, so much already. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your help.”

“Thanks,” I mumbled, continuing to stare at that beautiful cock of his. “I was just...”

I trailed off, too embarrassed to say anything else.

**Ask** , a voice in my head told me. **Say it...**

“I was just ... I mean, I’m here anyway. We’re both here. And it doesn’t seem to be working. And I really want to help. So ... is there anything I can do?”

My brother’s hand had slowed down when I’d started speaking, but as I continued to stare at his cock, he sped up again, and I saw the head of his dick pulse.

“I really want to help you cum,” I said, and I swear it looked like my brother’s cock was going to explode at my words. It almost looked like he deliberately loosened his grip to stop that from happening ... but no, that didn’t make sense. Of course my brother wouldn’t stop himself from trying to cum. That’s why we were here, after all.

“Well...” he said reluctantly, after about thirty seconds had passed. He was breathing heavily, and I leaned forward, eager to hear what he had to say. “I mean ... if you **really** wanted to...”

“Yes?” I asked enthusiastically, not even sure what I was so keen to hear.

“I mean ... what you’re wearing ... it’s pretty ... drab.”

I looked down at my clothing, taking my eyes off his cock for the first time since it had come into view that night. He was right - when we’d started doing this, to ensure that I didn’t send the wrong message, I’d deliberately worn my bulkiest sweatsuit. After all, we were brother and sister ... Hey, yeah. We were brother and sister. He shouldn’t be ... My thought process was cut off when I glanced up to see his hand moving up and down his cock once more. I immediately relaxed, and let his words flow over me, soothing me, leaving me free of cares ... Men were visual creatures, I knew that. It wasn’t anything to do with us being siblings - he just needed **something** to look at, and I was right there. Why should he have to go and get some porn when I’m sitting right here, eager and willing to help.

“Of course,” I replied, and immediately began to lower my sweatpants, keeping my eyes on his gorgeous hard cock.

I had a moment of hesitation as my sweatshirt came over my head, but as soon as his cock came back into view, the feeling of relaxation came over me once more.

I was helping my brother. That’s all it was. My brother needed some visual stimulation, and I was helping him. I wanted my brother to get off - that’s why we were here. I wanted my brother to get off while looking at me.

My hand went back to my panties, and I resumed playing with myself, watching my brother’s hand pumping his cock, up and down and up and down ... Before, he’d only been able to see my hands disappearing into my pants, but now he could ... well, he certainly couldn’t see everything, but it must have been more clear what I was doing: he’d be able to see the way my fingers lightly brushed against my clit, the pair of digits that I used to penetrate myself, imagining it was a cock entering me.

If he ever needed to please me, he was getting a hell of an education. Not, of course, that my brother would ever need to know how to pleasure his own sister.

I’d never masturbated in front of anyone before, not even my boyfriend, and I have to admit ... I was getting a slight exhibitionistic thrill from the whole experience. It was easy enough to pretend it wasn’t my brother’s eyes on me, getting turned on just at the sight of my bra-clad breasts, my wet panties, my fingers pumping in and out of myself, matching the rhythm of his cock ... in and out, in and out, in and out.

After all, my brother wasn’t a sick freak - when he’d asked me to strip down, it hadn’t been because I was his sister: I was just a female body, there for his pleasure. I was there for my brother’s pleasure. I wanted to help my brother cum. I wanted to pleasure my brother, pleasure him until he came ... I was so turned on, my mind was easily distracted, racing from topic to topic. I was there for my brother’s pleasure. He was enjoying the sight of my body. I loved watching his cock. I loved his cock. I wanted to pleasure my brother.

No, he wasn’t seeing me as his sister in that moment - that, I’m sure, would have been a huge turn-off. He just saw my bouncing boobs, my bare skin, a girl in her underwear just for him. Just for him. I exist just for him ... Similarly, it was child’s play to pretend that it wasn’t my brother’s cock that I saw in front of me. I imagined it belonging to a stranger, someone I’d never met before, stroking themselves looking at me. I love people looking at me. I loved being watched.

All I wanted was for the stranger to cum, to shoot his load looking at my young, nubile body. All I wanted was the stranger to enjoy the sight of me, laid out just for his pleasure.

But it wasn’t a stranger, it was my brother. And I was there to fulfil my purpose - to make my brother cum. All I wanted was for my brother to cum, looking at me, looking at his sexy little sister.

That was the thought that lodged in my head as I finally came, arching my back in pleasure, inserting my fingers deep inside me, moaning with pleasure at the idea of it being replaced by a cock, by the stranger’s cock, by my brother’s cock ... As I came down from my orgasm, I felt more relaxed than I’d ever been in my life. I was serving my purpose, after all - I mean, in that moment. My purpose was to help my brother cum, and if needed to look at my body to do it, then I’d let him look at my body.

To my dismay, though, it didn’t seem to be having the desired effect. His eyes were clenched tight, his mouth was still uttering words that I couldn’t be bothered paying attention to, and his hand was still rhythmically pumping up and down his hard member, but as I sat there and watched, blissed out and ready to fall asleep, he didn’t cum.

“Bro,” I finally said, and as he opened his eyes and noticed me looking (for the first time that evening) at his face) he, too, relaxed. “I don’t think it’s going to happen ... but I’d love to try again tomorrow night.”

“Thanks, sis,” he said with a sad smile. “We’ll get there - I know we will.”


	Chapter 3

I could hardly wait until the next time I got to help my brother.

He has this weird psychological hang-up: basically, he can’t cum while there’s anyone else in the room. It’s really started to cause issues in his relationships, so I’ve been helping him out - not anything gross, just being in the room while he jerks off. And, of course, to make sure he feels comfortable, I’ve been masturbating as well - otherwise it’d just be weird, y’know?

Anyway, while he hasn’t been able to cum yet - not even with my help - I knew that eventually we’d get there. And so, the next time the two of us had the house to ourselves, I went into the living room, stripped down to my bra and panties, and waited for my brother to arrive.

I was so excited. Showing off my body helped my brother. I didn’t want him to have to ask, I just wanted him to be able to see me.

“Sis,” he said as he entered, throwing an admiring glance my way, “you didn’t have to...”

“It’s fine,” I said, my brow furrowing. Maybe he was right? Maybe he shouldn’t see this much of me - he is my brother, after all. And we hadn’t even made an appointment, I’d just decided to surprise him with a view of... - But before I could get too far down that train of thought, he’d pulled his pants down and let his cock fall into view. All my worries drifted away as his hand began to slowly stroke up and down his magnificent shaft. It was so relaxing, just watching the repetitive motion of his hand, and soon my own hand drifted to my panties and I began to get myself off as well.

**God I’m horny,** I suddenly thought. As I stroked my pussy-lips, watching my brother’s fist slowly pump his hardness, I reflected on why I was so horny. Obviously it was nothing to do with my brother - I wasn’t a pervert, after all. This was completely non-sexual. All we were doing was getting ourselves off in front of each other - nothing wrong with that.

No, I realized, I was horny because of how relaxed I felt. When I felt relaxed, I was truly able to give into my desires. When I was relaxed, I could let myself feel the full force of my lust - when I was relaxed, I was horny. Being relaxed lets me get as horny as I can possibly get, and of course nothing relaxes me as much as watching my brother masturbate.

It all made so much sense. Up and down. Up and down. Stroke, stroke, stroke.

I slipped a finger into my wet slit, and then a second, moving my hand in time with my brother’s. In, out, in, out. Stroke, stroke. It was so relaxing. Watching my brother masturbate is so relaxing. And being relaxed makes me horny.

So horny ... Without even realizing it, I’d started to writhe a bit on the couch. Normally when I masturbate, I just sort of lie there and get the job done, but because I was so relaxed, I was letting myself get more and more turned on. Hornier and hornier. Stroke, stroke.

I was so turned on that I couldn’t control my body - the intensity of my arousal was taking me over. My body was a slave to it, a slave to my own pleasure. And I loved it. I wanted to be a slave to pleasure. I wanted to be nothing more than a pleasure slave ... My brother had been muttering, as always, and as the pleasure overtook me, I closed my eyes for a second, reopening them only when I heard my brother snap at me.

Snap at me? Was my brother talking to me? I reopened my eyes, but before I could ask what he’d said, my attention was drawn back to his huge, beautiful cock.

Stroke, stroke, stroke, stroke. Breathe in, breathe out. Relax, Hannah. Relax. Let your worries float away, I told myself. Just relax, and focus on your brother’s cock ... don’t close your eyes. Focus on the cock, and keep your eyes open.

Of course my brother wasn’t muttering. Where did I get that idea from? All I could hear was the sound of my brother’s pleasure, and my own thoughts, reminding me of how horny I was, how horny I got when I was relaxed, how much I loved being relaxed and horny ... I lost track of the time as I played with myself; my attention was so focussed on watching my brother stroke himself, watching him jerk off in front of me. His hand travelled up and down, and I moved my fingers in and out of my pussy in time to match it. My breathing, too, matched the rhythm of my brother’s strokes.

Up and down. In and out. Breathe, breathe, stroke, stroke.

As I watched, I found my arousal growing again, but at a slow, more manageable rate this time. I was getting horny, playing with myself, intently staring at a cock. Sure, it was my brother’s cock, but a body was a body - just as he was staring at mine, it was okay for me to stare at his. What was the harm?

I sat on the couch, enjoying myself, staring at my brother’s cock, imagining it belonged to someone else, watching as he stroked himself. The feeling in my stomach began to grow, as I got more and more turned on. I loved playing with myself. I loved being looked at. I loved looking at my broth- ... no, just at a cock. I loved looking at cock.

The familiar feeling of an orgasm began to approach, and I slowed down. I couldn’t cum, not yet. My brother had to cum first - that’s why we were here, after all. That was the purpose of tonight. That was my purpose in being here. My purpose was to make my brother cum.

Even though I slowed my stimulation down, the situation was so uniquely erotic, I couldn’t help but get more and more aroused. I was so horny, and so relaxed. Being relaxed made me more horny. The more relaxed I was, the more I could allow myself to get turned on. The more I relaxed, the more aroused I could let myself get.

I needed a distraction. Even as I kept staring at my brother’s cock, feeling my orgasm creep ever-closer, I tried to think about other things. I told myself that I was only this turned on **because** I was so relaxed - when I wasn’t here, in this relaxing situation, I couldn’t get this turned on. And when I wasn’t this turned on, I couldn’t cum.

That didn’t quite sound right, but my arousal was pounding at my head, refusing to let other thoughts through. I was a slave to my pleasure. My body was aroused, and my mind was just a slave to my body. I am a pleasure-slave.

I couldn’t cum unless I was turned on, and at that moment, I was more turned on than I’d ever been in my life. I can’t cum unless I’m turned on. I can’t cum unless I’m turned on, and I’m only turned on when I’m relaxed. When I’m relaxed, I’m turned on, and I can’t cum unless I’m relaxed.

God I was horny. And relaxed. Watching my sibling masturbate relaxed me more than anything else I’d ever experienced. I was so relaxed I felt like I could melt. I was so turned on I thought I was going to explode. I’m only relaxed when I watch my brother masturbate, and I can only get turned on when I’m relaxed.

Suddenly it all made sense - that was why I was so horny. I mean, obviously I was horny because of how relaxed I was (and because I’d spent the last half-hour staring at a cock, as it stroked up and down and up and down, over and over again... ) but I only ever got this turned on when I was relaxed. I could only cum when I was this relaxed, and so obviously I hadn’t been able to masturbate since we’d done this last.

I couldn’t even remember the last time I came - no wonder I was so friggin’ horny, I could only cum when I was watching my brother masturbate. That still didn’t sit right in my head, but I was right on the brink of orgasm, and I didn’t have the mental room to question it. Instead, the statement just repeated in my head over and over again.

I can only cum when I watch my brother masturbate. I can only cum when I watch my brother masturbate. Watching my brother masturbate makes me cum.

I knew it was rude to cum before my brother - his pleasure was, after all, why we were here - but I couldn’t hold it back any longer. At some point I’d allowed the arousal to take over and started writhing around on the couch again, but this time my eyes hadn’t closed - they were focused with laser precision on my brother’s cock.

My pussy clenched around my fingers, and my hips involuntarily began to buck, over and over. I stared at my brother’s erection as an orgasm wracked my body, and wave after wave of pleasure overtook me.

Watching my brother masturbate makes me cum. I can only cum when I watch my brother masturbate. I’m a slave to my pleasure. I’m a pleasure slave. I’m my brother’s pleasure slave ... After I came, I just lay there, exhausted, strange thoughts flitting through my head, instructing me to pleasure my brother, that everything I did was for his pleasure ... they didn’t make sense, and I dismissed them as quickly as they arrived, lacking the energy to process them properly.

Finally, my brother put his cock away, and I looked up at him sadly.

“Nothing?” I asked with a slight pout.

“Not this time,” he said sadly, “but Mom and Dad are away again this weekend - maybe we could try again then?”

“Of course,” I replied, a selfish thought running through my head. This had started as a favor to my brother, but it gave me so much pleasure. Was that something I should feel bad about?

* * *

The next night, I was laying in bed unable to sleep, when I remembered some of the strange thoughts that I’d been having while I watched my brother masturbate. Like ... that I could only cum when I was watching him pleasure himself. That was, of course, patently ridiculous - I’d been masturbating since I was a young teen, and my boyfriend had made me cum countless, countless times.

Sure, it was relaxing to watch my brother masturbate - who wouldn’t find that sort of thing pleasant? But to say that it was the only time I could cum? That was simply inaccurate.

To prove to myself how stupid it was, I shut my eyes, pictured my brother’s hand stroking up and down his cock, and got myself off in almost no time at all.

* * *

That weekend, as promised, my brother and I met in the living-room for another attempt. I immediately stripped off, my brother pulled out his cock, and we set to work.

I say “work” facetiously, of course - I had been looking forward to this session since our last one. It was just so incredibly relaxing, watching his hand move up and down. So relaxing ... I was so relaxed ... Stroke, stroke. Up and down.

I’d been wet all day just at the idea of how relaxed I was going to be, and my hand immediately found its way into my panties, and I began pulling and tugging at my pussy-hair, enjoying the sensations that it caused.

I can only cum when I’m turned on, of course, but it didn’t take long for my relaxation to jumpstart my arousal, and soon I was on the brink of an orgasm again. I can only cum when I’m turned on. I can only cum when I’m turned on.

Suddenly, I had a ‘lightbulb moment’ - this was exactly the problem that my brother was having. He was struggling to cum, and here I was, mentally repeating the solution to myself without even realizing.

My brother needed to cum. I needed to make my brother cum. And how could I do that?

By making sure he was turned on, as much as possible.

The relaxation had obviously helped - no one can cum when they’re stressed, or highly strung, and I knew that being relaxed helped me get as turned on as possible. But it was only half of the equation - I needed to make sure that my brother was as turned on as possible. I needed to do whatever I could to turn my brother on.

“Hey bro,” I said, interrupting the silence. Well, not exactly “silence” - the sound of two siblings masturbating. And my brother’s ... no, he wasn’t saying anything. Why did I keep thinking that he was?

“Yeah?” he said, continuing to jerk off. Up ... and down ... up ... and down ... I let myself get distracted by the sight for far too long, before pulling myself together.

“This might sound weird, but what turns you on?”

“Uh...” he said, and there was a long pause before he hesitantly replied. “Boobs?”

I would have laughed if I didn’t know it would hurt his feelings. Of course he liked boobs - he was a guy. I hardly even needed to ask, did I?

What’s more, that was something I could easily help with. After all, I had a pair, and if my brother ... stroke, stroke, stroke, stroke ... if my brother needed to see them, I was here to help.

I didn’t say a word as I reached behind myself, undid my bra, and let my breasts fall free. I couldn’t take my eyes off my brother’s cock, so I just had to imagine what his face looked like at that moment - his eyes, wide with joy as he saw his sister’s ... no, that wasn’t right.

For a second, I was hit with a wave of self-consciousness. I was topless in front of my brother. I mean, sure, he’s seen me in my underwear, but that’s hardly worse than a bikini - this was more than that. I’d exposed myself to my own sibling ... I tore my eyes away from my brother’s cock, and looked up at his face.

“Bro?” I said, and to my surprise he wasn’t even looking at my exposed tits, he was staring back at me, a worried look on his face.

“Sis...” he said urgently, “I think I’m close. Look...”

I immediately looked back at his cock. I couldn’t believe it! We’d done it! I’d helped my brother get over his problem - sure, I’d had to cross a taboo line, but it would only be this once, and it would be worth it if I could ... As I stared at his hard member, I lost my train of thought. I just **liked** looking at it - I know that probably makes me sound weird, but I’m a straight girl. It would be weirder if I **didn’t** like looking at cock, right?

And sure, it was my brother’s, but it was so easy to just pretend that it wasn’t. That was obviously what he was doing - he wasn’t staring at his **sister’s** tits, he just saw tits. There was absolutely nothing wrong with that, and I was just happy that they were giving him pleasure.

To my disappointment, as I continued to stare at my brother’s cock, I realized that his prediction must have been wrong. He didn’t look any closer to cumming, his cock just looked the same as it always did. Hard, standing proud, his foreskin stimulating him each time it was pulled over his head.

Over and over ... up and down and up and down ... Still, he’d said he was close ... maybe I could do something to help? I’d shown him my tits, and that had almost worked ... what else could I do?

I just stared at my brother’s cock for a few more minutes while I thought, my own hand pumping in and out of my pussy. Pump, pump, stroke, stroke. Two siblings, working their genitals in unison.

I’d had a boyfriend who was really into tits, I suddenly remembered. He loved looking at them, touching them, tasting them ... I briefly considered letting my brother touch my nipples, but I immediately knew that was going too far. No, there had to be something else I could do, something that wouldn’t cross a line like that ... Suddenly I remembered. My ex had loved to cum on my tits. Now obviously that’s something that I’d normally never consider with my brother, but desperate times called for desperate measures. We’d made a breakthrough here today, and we might never get this close again - I had to do whatever I could to help him cum. If he didn’t manage to, it would be nothing worse than what we’d done so far, but if I was successful ... well sure, I’d have to clean my brother’s cum off my tits, but ****we’d have succeeded****. We’d have accomplished what we had set out to do, and I’d never have to watch him masturbate again.

I don’t know why that thought made me so sad, but I dismissed it and spoke up before I lost my nerve.

“Hey bro ... you like looking at my tits?”

**Yes,** I thought to myself, mentally answering for my brother. **Of course I do, Hannah.**

“Do you like it when I do this?” I replied, and reached up with one hand to tweak my nipple. I’d forgotten how sensitive my nipples are, and the wave of pleasure that hit me made me forget what I was doing for a few seconds.

**Pleasuring your brother. You’re pleasuring your brother. Helping your brother get off. You’ll do whatever you can to help your brother get off. Beg him to cum on you. Beg him to cum on your tits.**

“Would it help,” I continued after I’d gotten myself back together, “if you could cum on my tits?”

**Oh Jesus,** I knew he wanted to say, **Hannah ... you don’t have to do that.** **Yes I do,** I told myself, and pressed on. “I know I don’t have to...” I said, in my sultriest, sexiest voice. “I want to. I want you to cum on my tits. Please. Please, do it ... cum on my tits.”

I think my choice of words shocked him, but there wasn’t a trace of hesitation as he moved towards me, and positioned himself at the end of the couch. I lay down, my eyes transfixed on his huge, beautiful cock ... my hand continued pumping in and out of my pussy as I watched it, so close to my face, towering over me, dominating me.

I couldn’t help but think about how submissive this position was - there was a cock was above me, and I couldn’t stop watching it. It was my world, at that moment - he was such an alpha male, and all I wanted to do was help him cum.

“Please,” I continued to beg, “please ... cum on my tits. Do it. Please. Cum on your slut’s tits. I want it. I **need** it.”

I didn’t know where some of that language was coming from, but with every word I spoke, I got more and more aroused. There was something so hot about pleading like this, so degrading about referring to myself in such crude terms. I could feel my orgasm approaching, but I was determined to do everything I could to make sure my brother came first.

“I want to feel your hot cum splashing against my skin ... please, I need it so bad. I need you to cum. I need you to cum all over me.”

My mouth was just spilling filth at this point, and my eyes were struggling to refrain from rolling back in my head ... but I couldn’t stop looking at my brother’s cock. I needed it, to cum. I needed it to cum. I needed my brother’s cock to cum, and I couldn’t cum myself without it.

What happened next was a bit weird, I’m not going to lie. I guess I went into a sort of frenzy, or a trance state ... I was so fixated on the idea of my brother cumming before I did, but I couldn’t stop myself ... so I must have gone into a weird fantasy world, because the next thing I saw was my brother shooting his load, his hand furiously pumping the cum out of him, all over my chest.

I swear I felt it, just as I’d said, splashing all over my chest, some landing on my face. I was so turned on that I opened my mouth and let his cum fly into it, swallowing it down, feeling it on my chest as my brother spoke for the first time since telling me that he liked boobs.

“Cum,” he hissed, and I just nodded in response. “Cum until you black out.”

With that, my orgasm overcame me.

“Fuuuuck,” I said, finally closing my eyes as I came so hard that I could feel it in every part of my body. My toes curled, my nipples were so hard I thought they were going to burst, my eyelids fluttered, and my pussy sang with joy.

The last thing I remember were my brother’s words washing over me ... and then I was out.

That’s right. I came so hard that I blacked out. I came so hard that I fantasized my brother came on my tits, then told me to cum.

When I awoke, my brother was standing over me, concerned, holding my bra and sweatsuit.

“Here,” he said kindly, “put these back on.”

“What happened?” I asked, and he told me that I’d passed out. That explained the visions - I must have been so horny, so desperate to make my brother cum that I’d imagined the whole thing.

“Did you...”

“No,” he replied, “not this time.”

“Oh,” I said sadly, still confused. “Well, there’s always next time.”

“If you’re sure you want to keep going,” my brother said, and I could tell from his tone that he was starting to lose hope.

“Hey,” I said, “don’t talk like that. We’re going to keep doing this, even if it takes weeks ... months ... years! You know I’m here to help, bro, no matter how long it takes. After all - what else is a sister for?”


	Chapter 4

I couldn’t wait until the next time I had a chance to help my brother out. The fantasy I’d last time ... it was so hot. I mean, it would have been if it hadn’t been my brother. Since it was my brother, it was just relaxing. I felt so relaxed after helping my brother, and I was really looking forward to helping him again.

My boyfriend was surprised when I asked him to stand over me and jerk off, but he didn’t object. I couldn’t explain why I needed it so much - the image was burned into my brain, and I had to experience it for real, not just in my imagination.

He stood above me, and it was so easy to let my mind flit back to the previous night, when I hadn’t just been doing it for fun, but doing it to help my brother out. I loved helping my brother. I loved how relaxing and non-sexual it was.

With my boyfriend, however, it was **extremely** sexual. My mouth moved on auto-pilot, like it had been last night.

“Please,” I begged, watching my boyfriend’s hand move back and forth, my own hand furiously rubbing at my clit within my soaked panties. “Please, cum on my tits. I need it. I need you to cum on my tits. I’m just a slut. I’m just your little slut...”

My boyfriend clearly had no idea what came over me ... but before long, it was him. My eyes rolled back in my head with pleasure as I orgasmed, feeling his hot cum landing on my tits. Unlike last night, the sensation didn’t make me black out ... of course, last night it had just been a fantasy. This was real.

I enjoyed watching his cum slide down my skin, and was tempted to scoop it up and taste it. Before I could, however, my boyfriend had offered me a towel, and I cleaned myself up.

“Thanks, baby...” I said, in the sultry voice I normally reserved for my brother. To help my brother, that is. “Have you got enough for a second round?”

* * *

It was two days later before our parents were out for long enough for me to try again, and I was practically crawling the walls with frustration. Nothing relaxed me as much as watching my brother stroke his cock. Cumming with my boyfriend was nice, cumming in my bedroom when I was alone was great, but nothing - ****nothing**** compared to when my brother and I got a chance to get together and help each other out.

Help him out, I mean. I was just helping him out. My pleasure was incidental.

That’s what I kept telling myself.

Finally, my parents went out, and I practically ran into the living room, tore my outer layers off, and started playing with myself.

It just wasn’t the same though. I was too tense - far too tense. When it was just me by myself, the situation was too sexual, and I couldn’t really relax. I needed my brother to be there, so that it could be a calming, neutral, relaxing situation. I needed my brother there, or else I just couldn’t cum.

I waited in that living room for close to two hours, casually toying with my pussy, wishing my brother was there to help me get off. So I could help him get off, I mean.

Finally, just after the clock struck eleven, he got home.

“Oh, hey baby sis,” he said casually, his eyes traveling up and down my mostly-exposed body. I was wearing a pair of my sexiest underwear - I wanted to make sure that my brother was as turned on as possible, looking at me. After all, he couldn’t get off unless he was turned on, and it was my job to make sure he was as turned on as possible.

“Where have you been?” I pouted, and in reply, he just looked at me strangely. God, what was I saying? A blush spread across my face, and travelled down my neck. I was so embarrassed - what did it matter where he’d been? He was a free agent, after all ... I was just his sister.

And **I** was meant to be helping **him**. God, what a stupid slut I was being.

Slut? I didn’t mean slut, did I?

Before I could ponder my word choice any more, my brother shifted, and I noticed the bulge in his pants.

“Never mind that,” I said quickly. “I thought since we had the house to ourselves tonight, we could try again?”

“Oh, I dunno...” he said reluctantly. “I’m pretty tired.”

“Please?” I asked, putting on my best puppy-dog face. “I really want to help you out, bro ... come on, I can see that you’re hard.”

“Can you blame me? With what I’m looking at...”

I blushed again at the compliment, but something didn’t seem right. Why was he objectifying me like that? I mean, yes, I’d chosen my lingerie for him, but surely it was... - And there it was. I moaned at the sight of my brother’s magnificent cock, and quickly slipped a hand into my panties and began to match his rhythm.

Oh yes. Yes, this was it. I’d missed this. The complete relaxation that you can only really get with a sibling in the room ... I was so relaxed that I could **really** let myself get turned on, and before long, my panties were soaked through.

Stroke, stroke, stroke, stroke. So rhythmic. So consistent. So relaxing. Up and down, and up and down ... It was so sexy, watching my brother stroke his cock. By sexy I obviously mean relaxing, but the two were quickly becoming one and the same. When I was relaxed, I was horny. Being relaxed was sexy. My brother’s cock relaxed me, ergo ... my brother’s cock was sexy.

Pump, pump, pump.

My brother’s cock was sexy.

Stroke, stroke.

My brother’s cock was sexy. My brother’s cock was so sexy ... I could feel myself getting close to an explosive orgasm, when to my dismay, my brother started slowing down.

“Um, what are you doing?” I said, looking him in the eye. It suddenly seemed like a strange question, but I was too horny to care.

“I told you, sis, I’m tired. Can we do this some other time?”

“I ... I guess,” I said sadly.

I went to bed frustrated that night. I was so close, but so far ... no matter how much I played with myself, no matter how perverse the thoughts running through my head, I just couldn’t cum. I needed to be relaxed, and for that ... I needed my brother’s cock.

Finally, at 3am, I couldn’t stand it any more. I was so tired, but too horny to sleep, and so I knocked on my brother’s bedroom door.

“Go away!” he cried out, and I considered taking his advice.

“It’s Hannah,” I said, and he made a noise of exasperation.

“I know! Go away!”

“Are you awake?”

“No!”

I rolled my eyes, and pushed his bedroom door open.

“What **is** it?” he asked, and sitting on the end of his bed, I told him.

“I can’t sleep,” I started, and just got a grunt in reply. “It’s ... your problem. I feel like we’re never going to fix it if we just give up whenever you’re tired. Isn’t there anything I can do?”

“No,” he said, no longer sounding annoyed. “No, Hannah, I don’t think there’s anything you can do. I don’t think there’s anything that **anyone** can do - I’m just a freak, and nothing is ever going to change that.”

The sound of surrender in his voice almost broke my heart, and I had to blink back a tear before I could reply.

“Come on, bro ... I’m your little sister. I’m here for you. Between the two of us, I know there’s something that we can do. Let’s give it another go, okay?”

There was a long pause, until finally he sighed.

“Fine,” he said, and turned on the light. “Hannah!”

Like most girls, I don’t sleep with a bra on, and I’d forgotten to slip anything on before coming into my brother’s room. Sitting on the end of his bed, topless, I was suddenly hit with a wave of self-consciousness.

“I, uh, um, I ... sorry, I should ... uh, maybe I should... -”

“No, wait,” he said as I got up. “It’s sort of hot.”

**He really shouldn’t be speaking to me like that,** I told myself, but before I could make my objections heard, he’d pulled the blankets down to reveal his beautiful erection.

“Oh,” I replied in a small whimper, and sat on the end of his bed to play with myself.

The hours of frustration had built up, and my hand was down my panties for just a few seconds before I could feel my orgasm approaching. Watching my brother was so relaxing, it always made me cum.

“Wait, Hannah...” he said, clearly recognizing the signs. “I think I’m close. Wait for me, okay?”

**We did it,** I mentally told myself in triumph. **We broke through whatever it was ... he’s going to cum. He’s going to cum, all because of me.** I pulled out all the stops. I crawled over him, until my tits were dangling right in front of him, practically touching his dick. I couldn’t look away from it as I started to talk dirty:

“Oh, do it. Do it. Cum on my tits. Cum for me. Cum on your little slut’s tits. I want it ... I need it. I want to see you cum. Please ... please!”

“I’m close,” he grunted, and I turned it up.

“I’m just a little slut for your cock. Please, I need your cum so bad ... I want to feel it, taste it. Please, cum. Cum for me. Do it. Oh, god, I need it! Please!”

Just as I could have sworn he was going to cum, he stopped. My eyes opened wide in shock, and I just stared at his erection, muttering like a lunatic.

“Do it please come on don’t stop cum for me please cum cum on my tits I’m just your little slut. Please, cum on my slutty tits ... they’re yours, they belong to you, Christen them. Christen them with your cum.”

“It’s no good,” my brother interrupted, and I felt like he’d been talking for a while. “I told you, I’m just too tired.”

“What?” I replied, not taking my eyes off his cock for a second.

“I told you, I’m exhausted ... it’s not going to happen tonight. I just don’t have the energy to stroke myself.”

There was a long pause ... not a silence, because my mind was racing. Thoughts were pumping through it, like an internal voice that wouldn’t stop talking.

“Do it,” the voice told me. “Offer ... it’s the only way. It’s the only way he’ll cum. Don’t you want him to cum? Don’t you want to help him? Isn’t that what you’re here for, Hannah? How can you relax when you know he’s suffering? What kind of a sister would you be if you abandoned your brother in his time of need? How can he be expected to do it if you won’t even help?”

The voices got louder and louder as I stared at my brother’s slowly-deflating member. Even though his hands weren’t anywhere near it, the rhythm of his masturbation had become so familiar to me that I could practically feel my heart beating to it.

Stroke, stroke. Help him out. Up and down. Stroke his cock. Stroke, stroke. Do it.

All the while, my own hand had been slowly stimulating my pussy, but without my brother’s pleasure, I knew that I’d never be able to cum. Finally, I couldn’t stop myself any longer.

“Um,” I said, and there was another long pause as my brother waited for my response. “Would it be o- ... would it help if I did it?”

“What do you mean?” he replied, sounding shocked.

“If I ... you know. Helped.”

“Hannah, no. You’ve done so much already. I couldn’t ask that.”

“Please?” I said. His cock was almost soft by now, but I couldn’t bring myself to say anything more than that. Finally, after one last long pause, he replied.

“Fine,” he said. “But I don’t think it’ll work.”

I didn’t care if it would work, I just needed to help him out, however I could. There was no way I could relax until I knew that I’d done all that I could, and I knew for a fact that I wouldn’t be able to get off until I was relaxed.

And so, even though it went against every impulse in my body, I reached out and touched my brother’s cock - the beautiful cock that I’d been looking at for so long - and slowly started to pump.

As soon as my small hand touched it, my brother’s erection began to return, and soon it was as hard as I’d ever seen it.

For close to fifteen minutes I kneeled on the end of my brother’s bed, my tits swinging to the rhythm, one hand supporting myself and the other pumping up and down his erection, to the rhythm that had become all so familiar to me.

Up and down. Up and down. Stroke, stroke, stroke, stroke.

It was weird at first, I’m not going to lie. But I just kept on reminding myself that I was helping my brother out. That was what little sisters were for. I was going to help my brother cum if it was the last thing I did.

After a while, it stopped being weird. Then, to be honest, it became kind of hot. It was just so **relaxing** \- knowing that my brother and I were so comfortable around each other that we could even get each other off without it being weird. And then I stopped thinking about it, instead imagining just how **relaxing** it would be if my brother returned the favor ... Finally, after fifteen minutes, I thought for sure he was going to cum. I’ve given my fair share of hand jobs in my time; I know the signs. His rate of breathing changed, his cock began to swell up ... it was finally, **finally** happening.

I leaned down so that his cum would splash on my tits, I was about to start talking dirty, when suddenly he yelled “Stop!”, and I obeyed immediately.

“What’s wrong?” I said frantically. “Please, do we have to stop? Please ... please??”

“I’m sorry,” he panted. “It, uh, started to hurt.”

“Oh, shit!” I replied guiltily. “Oh, I’m so sorry ... did I do something wrong?”

“No,” he said, still catching his breath. “No, you were fine. It’s just ... it’s just ... that’s how...”

“It’s fine,” I said sadly.

There was an awkward pause - the longest silence yet. Finally, I broke the silence by saying that I should be getting to bed.

“Yeah,” he replied, and even though I waited, it quickly became obvious that nothing else was forthcoming.

“G’night, bro,” I said as I slipped out of the room, hornier than I could ever remember being.

“G’night Han...” he said sleepily.

I fruitlessly tried to get off for another half hour before declaring the night a wash and drifting off to sleep myself. Suddenly I understood how frustrating it must be for my brother - and just like that, my resolve was doubled. I’d help him through this. No human deserved to suffer the way he - and now I - was.

* * *

The next morning, my fidgeting was so obvious that even Mom asked what was happening.

“Nothing,” I told her with a roll of my eyes. I was just so fucking **horny**.

“Are you sure?” she asked, and I just nodded and forced a grin onto my face. As soon as our family breakfast was done, I was going to go around to my boyfriend’s and insist that he fuck me all day if he had to. I needed to climax so badly it almost hurt.

My forced grin was still there when my brother arrived, and shot me a smile.

“Where’s my favorite sister?” he asked.

“In hell,” I replied through my teeth - fortunately I don’t think he heard me. This must be how he felt every time he was with a girlfriend. All worked up with no way to go. Poor guy - I really felt sorry for him.

“Oh, hey, Mom...” he said casually. “Would you be able to find that old recipe book that grandpa gave you? I want to try one of the Mongolian dishes.”

“I haven’t seen that for months,” she replied. “I think it’s packed away in the attic.”

“Could you have a look for it?” my brother asked. “It’s important.”

“Fine,” she said with a sigh. “I’ll have a quick look now.”

“Thanks, Mom,” he smiled, and the second she was out of the room, turned to me.

“I need your help.”

“Now?” I asked in shock.

“Now. I think I might be able to cum, but only if we do it right now. Is that okay?”

A part of me felt like there was something weird about two siblings jerking off quickly in the kitchen, but I could tell he needed it ... and to be honest, so did I.

“Of course,” I replied, and started to take my top off.

“No, no, - we don’t have time for that.”

“Oh, duh.”

He unzipped his pants and pulled his cock out, but didn’t lower them completely. In turn, I reached inside the tight jeans that I’d planned to wear to my boyfriend’s, and immediately plunged two fingers into my pussy. I was so wet, just the sight of my brother’s thick cock was almost enough to get me off.

Stroke, stroke, stroke. Helping my brother. Helping him cum. Oh, god, how I wanted him to come... 

“What?” my mother cried from the other room. “What did you say?”

“Nothing, Mom!” my brother replied, and lowered his voice. Except, of course, he wasn’t saying anything. Was he?

Up and down and up and down. I forgot everything except for the incredible sight before my eyes. This was everything I needed. I wanted to bring my brother pleasure. Bringing my brother pleasure was the only way I could find pleasure myself ... Less than two minutes from Mom leaving the room, I climaxed, tightening around my fingers in wave after wave of pleasure. Fuck ... nothing felt as good as that.

The sound of Mom coming back down the stairs caused my brother to stop his efforts and pull up his pants, just in time for Mom to re-enter the room.

“You’re the best!” he said with a grin, before leaning down and whispering in my ear. “Well ... second best. Thanks, Hannah.”

I just smiled in response. Didn’t my brother know I was always happy to help?


	Chapter 5

I was halfway out the door when my brother stopped me again.

The orgasm I’d had that morning had really taken the edge off, but I was still **horny** , and so I’d called my boyfriend and organized to go around.

“Wait,” he said, and I stopped.

“What’s up?” I said, checking my phone for the time. If I didn’t leave in the next few minutes, I’d miss the bus, and my boyfriend had this thing about punctuality.

“This morning, in the kitchen ... it was so hot.”

“Yeah...” I said, suddenly blushing. There was something wrong with me - helping my brother out shouldn’t be **hot** \- but I couldn’t deny that the risk of being caught had been a surprising turn-on.

“I’ve been thinking about it all day, and it’s gotten me so turned on that I bet I can cum.”

“Right now?” I asked, looking at my phone once more. If I left now - and ran - I could still make it ... but my brother needed my help.

I quickly made up my mind. As I texted my boyfriend and told him I was going to be late, I pulled my brother into the hallway closet. I quickly checked to make sure that Mom wasn’t going to catch us in the next few minutes, and shut the door.

It was pitch-black, but that was okay. If my brother was as turned on as he’d said, we could get this out of the way quickly, and he wouldn’t even have to look at me. Without hesitation, I unbuckled his pants, and wrapped my hand around his thick cock.

He gasped at my forwardness, and suddenly I became aware of what I was doing. I was touching my brother’s cock - my **brother’s** cock - in the middle of the house. What was I thinking?? What if Mom opened the door to get a coat, or heard a noise?

I opened my mouth to apologize, but before I could, I felt my brother’s hand on my wrist, and he started moving my hand for me. As it pumped up and down the hardness of my brother’s cock, I felt myself really getting into the rhythm.

Up and down. Up and down. Stroke, stroke, stroke ... After just a few seconds, all my stress, all my tension melted away. A peaceful inner voice told me how **right** this was, how **helpful** I was being ... I was helping my brother. I was helping my brother with a problem. That was all it was - there was nothing strange about helping my brother.

My phone buzzed in my other hand, and its screen briefly lit up the small room. Despite the darkness, I’d been staring at my own hand as it slowly but confidently pumped up and down my brother’s cock, but now I could **see** it, I could see its beauty. I could see how hard it was - how hard I had made it - and when my phone’s screen turned off, I was disappointed but could still see the image in my head.

Pump, pump, pump. Up and down and up and down. Stroke, stroke. Up and down.

The darkness and the hypnotic rhythm of my own hand took over, and I tuned out for a few minutes. Part of me wanted to play with myself, but at the same time I didn’t want to get distracted from the task at hand.

Making my brother cum was the most important thing I’d ever done - in many ways, it felt like the reason I existed. After all, I was a woman - every part of me was designed for a male’s pleasure. Every part of me existed to make men cum. My hands, my body ... my mouth.

Nothing else mattered as much as making my brother cum.

When I tuned back in again, my brother was zipping his jeans up once more. For a second, I almost asked if it had worked, if I’d managed to make him cum ... but no, of course i hadn’t. I would remember something as momentous as that. He didn’t say anything, just reached out and wiped the corner of my mouth with his thumb.

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled as he opened the door and peeked out to make sure that no one was there.

“It’s okay Hannah,” he said. “You did what you could.”

My mind was buzzing ... was there anything I could do to help my brother? As I went to the kitchen to get some water and wash the strange taste out of my mouth, I decided to cancel meeting my boyfriend. There was a more pressing matter at hand, and I had to work on fixing it.

* * *

That night, I again sneaked into my brother’s room. If we were going to solve this, I’d decided, we couldn’t just wait for opportunities to present themselves. We had to **make** opportunities, every chance we got, just as my brother had that morning.

He was a bit cranky when I woke him up, but as I explained my plan, was forced to agree that I was right.

“Do you want me to turn the light out?” he asked, but I shook my head. When the lights were out, it was too easy to lose focus - when I’d texted my boyfriend back that morning, I’d discovered that I’d lost almost half an hour. It hadn’t felt like nearly that long, but something about the darkness had really knocked me out.

The implied question that he **didn’t** ask was whether I should jerk him off, or whether he should do it himself. I was still struggling with the fact that wrapping my hand around my own brother’s cock had become almost **normal** , and so I decided to let him handle it.

I knew that the touch of a female hand was more likely to get him off, but the other factor in my visit was that I was worked up. I wanted to play with myself - mainly to help my brother out, of course, but also because I found it so much easier to get off when I was in a relaxed environment, like helping my brother get off.

He wasn’t hard, and so I took off my top and exposed my breasts to him, and it had the desired effect. I watched with a huge smile on my face as his cock hardened at the sight of me. After all, that was what my boobs were for - to get men hard.

Everything about me was there to get men hard. And what was my brother if not a man?

Slipping a finger between my pussy-lips, I was unsurprised to find that I was already soaked. I felt like I walked around in a state of arousal most of the time these days.

**It makes sense,** a small part of me insisted. **When you’re wet, you’re ready to take a cock. And that’s your purpose - to take cocks inside you. To get men off.** **You exist to get men off.** I tried to shoo those stray thoughts away, but they persisted. I was just trying to have a nice relaxing masturbation while helping my brother, and I didn’t want it to get weird ... but I couldn’t stop thinking about what a sexual being I was.

**Your boobs are there to make men hard,** I told myself, and couldn’t help but agree. As I repeatedly plunged my fingers inside myself, my boobs had a slight bounce to them, and while I didn’t want to take my eyes off the cock in front of me for a second, I would have bet anything that my chest was what my brother was staring at.

**Your hands are there to jerk men off,** I thought, feeling slightly guilty that I was making my brother do it himself. Still, touching his cock - a good cause though it was - was still new to me, and something felt **wrong** about touching myself at the same time as I touched him.

**Your mouth exists to swallow cum.** **Your cunt exists to get men off.** **Your ass exists for cock.** The thoughts were building up, getting more and more deviant. I’d never even had anal sex before, but suddenly the idea was so **alluring** \- it was true, of course. I was made to please men, and if a man wanted to fuck me in the ass, who was I to stand in their way?

Something about the thought process seemed off, but I was too horny to question it. The idea of a cock sliding between my ass-cheeks, filling me up - it was enough to bring me over the edge, and as I came, staring at my brother’s cock, I tried to ignore the persistent image of **it** being the cock to take me from behind for the first time.

My orgasm was long and powerful, and when I finished thrashing around in pleasure, I drew my attention back to my brother.

“Anything?” I asked hopefully, but he just shook his head.

“I can...”

I trailed off, and there was a long pause. I was tired, and now that I’d had my own orgasm, the idea of touching my brother’s cock had gone back to being weird. He just stared at me, silently waiting for me to finish my sentence. I knew he’d never ask - he was too much of a gentleman for that - and it was that thought that made me smile and finish the thought.

“I can jerk you off, if you like?”

When he politely refused, saying that he just wanted to get some sleep, I tried not to let my relief show. I would have done it, of course - my brother asks so little, and he’s going through so much - but I was tired, and just wanted to crash.

* * *

The next morning, the first thing I saw when I awoke was my brother’s cock, erect before my eyes. I was so startled that I almost screamed, but he held a finger up to his lips and pointed at my open bedroom door.

“We don’t want Mom or Dad coming in,” he whispered, and I nodded in reply, unable to take my eyes off my brother’s erection. I’d never been this close to it before - it was just inches from my eyes - and I couldn’t stop staring at it as he slowly wrapped one hand around it and started pumping.

“Why don’t you close the door?” I asked, as his hand moved up and down in a steady rhythm. Up and down, and up and down ... He didn’t say anything in reply, but the answer immediately popped into my head. If Mom and Dad found a closed door, they’d be suspicious.

Without even realizing, I’d slipped one hand between my legs and started tugging at my pubic hair. I wasn’t normally a morning masturbator, but my brother’s confidence was so relaxing that I couldn’t help but be turned on.

Stroke. Stroke. Stroke. Stroke.

I would have preferred a slightly more relaxed orgasm, but with the risk of being caught, we didn’t have much time. It wasn’t long at all before I was gently rubbing my clit, an orgasm wracking my body as I thought about how **exciting** it was, the risk of what we were doing.

You would think that being simultaneously relaxed and excited was a contradiction in terms, but with my brother it just somehow worked. I was relaxed because he was - masturbating in front of a sibling was the most relaxing thing one could do - but at the same time, the delicious tension of what we were doing, how easy it would be for our parents to walk past and see my brother with his cock out ... It was somehow exhilarating, and the excitement turned me on.

I got myself off twice more before lunch. Whenever Mom and Dad were in another part of the house, my brother would come find me, pull out his cock, and wordlessly start stroking it. Honestly, I was just glad that he’d taken to heart my advice the previous night - we needed to take every opportunity we could to make him cum, and that meant that we couldn’t just wait for our parents to disappear.

It was two days later before I saw my boyfriend again. We normally spend time together pretty much every day, but with the increased frequency that I was helping my brother out, I felt bad leaving the house at all. It was only at my brother’s insistence that I finally organized for my boyfriend to come around and pick me up.

The past two days had been a roller coaster of sneaking around and avoiding Mom and Dad. I actually lost count of how many times I got off the second day - practically every time our parents left the room, his erection was out, and my hand was down my pants. We’d even made another hallway-closet visit, and I hadn’t had to go to his room that night - he’d come to mine, kneeling on top of me, jerking off with his cock right near my face.

As soon as we got back to my boyfriend’s place, we started fooling around. It had been a few days since he’d gotten any, and I think the poor guy was really built up ... but it just wasn’t doing anything for me.

It must have been a Pavlovian thing. Each time I’d gotten off lately, it was with the risk of being caught, and now that we were in a safe environment, I just couldn’t get turned on. I went along with it, for his sake - what kind of a person would I be if I helped my brother out with his problem and not my boyfriend, hey? - but after he came inside me, I just rolled over, and tried to work out what I could do.

Less than ten minutes later, he was hard and wanted to go again, but I knew that I couldn’t fake another orgasm. It wouldn’t be right.

For the first time since I started helping my brother, I started to worry that it was interfering with my relationship, which I knew was completely unacceptable. If this continued, I knew I’d have to stop.

I felt like I was stuck between a rock and a hard place. On one hand, the idea of no longer helping my brother actually made me feel a bit sick ... but on the other, I knew that I couldn’t let it get in the way of my **real** sex life.

“Hannah?” my boyfriend said, and I realized that I hadn’t responded to his advances at all, just sat there in worried silence.

I made up my mind on the spot: I had to solve this. If I couldn’t get turned on without a little bit of danger, and I wanted to continue sleeping with my boyfriend, then I had to create a little bit of danger. Standing up abruptly, I began pulling my clothes on.

“Come with me,” I said, and when he threw me a confused look, I stared at him. “Trust me.”

Less than five minutes later, we were in the car. He followed my directions, and parked in the lot of the local supermarket, the only shop that was open this late.

“Do you need something?” he asked, confused, and I just smiled in response.

“You,” I said, leaning forward and kissing him.

To his credit, he didn’t question me.


	Chapter 6

I stayed at my boyfriend’s house that night but woke up early, feeling strangely anxious.

**What if my brother is ready to cum, and I’m not there to help him?** A glance at the clock told me it was only just 6am, but I knew I wasn’t going back to sleep - not when my brother’s pleasure was at risk. Rather than waking my boyfriend up, I left a note and called a cab - less than half an hour later, I was home, and could breathe a sigh of relief: my brother was still asleep. I hadn’t missed my chance.

A smile slowly spread across my face - he had woken me up the other day. What if I returned the favor?

Quickly peeking into the hallway to make sure that our parents weren’t up, I slipped my shirt and jeans off and pointed my already-hard nipples at my brother. I wanted to make sure that the first thing he saw when he woke up was my tits - they existed to get men off, and I was going to get my brother off if it killed me.

When I was younger, I would sometimes crawl into my brother’s bed after a bad dream, and I couldn’t help but smile with nostalgia as I found myself doing the same thing now, wearing nothing but a pair of panties. I was tempted to just lie my head on his chest like I’d done so many times in the past, but I’d come here for a reason: I had a job to do.

Reaching beneath the blanket, I was delighted to discover that my brother slept naked - delighted just because of how much easier it made my job, of course. I found his cock, and without hesitation, began slowly pumping it, up and down and up and down. I angled myself carefully, so that his first waking sight would be my naked torso, dedicated to pleasuring him, dedicated to getting him off ... He stirred, but didn’t wake up. A part of me was tempted to crawl under the blanket and start blowing him, but I knew that would be crossing a line. I couldn’t blow my brother ... even if it would help him with his problem. No, it would be ... wrong. I could never do that.

Not unless things got desperate.

After a few minutes of me slowly pumping his hard cock with my tiny hand, he woke up, and blearily looked at me. To my disappointment, his attention didn’t go straight to my tits, but he stared at my face, confused.

“Hannah?”

“Good morning,” I said with a smile, bringing my hand up and licking it before resuming my efforts. More than anything, I wanted to help my brother cum. “I thought I’d wake you up with a little surprise...”

“Hmmm,” he said, and my heart sank. He glanced down at my tits, but he wasn’t smiling. He almost looked ... annoyed.

Oh, god. What the fuck was wrong with me? I’d sneaked into my own brother’s bed and started touching him without asking. I was jerking my own brother off - he must have thought I was a total freak!

I let go of his cock like it was a burning coal, and my panic must have been obvious, because a look of concern immediately appeared on his face.

“Oh Jesus, bro,” I stammered. “I’m so sorry ... I thought ... I was...”

My eyes began to fill with tears, and my brother pulled me to him for comfort.

“Hannah ... Hannah, it’s okay...”

He began to soothingly stroke my hair, and - I hate to admit - I started to sob. I’d thought I was doing him a favor, but really I was just being sick. I was sick, I was sick - in that moment he must have hated me almost as much as I hated myself.

“Hannah, it’s fine! I swear, I’m not mad.”

I barely heard his words as I began to sob, until he shifted slightly, and I felt his erection press against my leg. Suddenly I froze, and my tears subsided.

“Hannah, listen to me ... it’s okay. You did the right thing.”

I scoffed, but before I could say anything more, he continued.

“You did a great job, sweetie - you did so good. You’re so helpful, and so relaxing - you’re such a great little sister. Not many little sisters would do this kind of thing for their big brother.”

Well, he was right about that.

“You’re so good at helping ... your little hands feel so good.”

I took a deep breath. His hand was still softly stroking my hair, rhythmically going from top to bottom, reminding me of something I couldn’t place.

“Your hands feel so good - they’re so good. You’re so good at helping me. Do you want to keep on helping me?”

It felt like he’d only been talking for a few seconds, but it must have been longer, because my eyes were dry and my tears had disappeared. I nodded in response, and glanced down as he moved the blanket to reveal his cock. It was still hard, sitting right next to my leg, and I immediately moved my hand down as instructed to grab hold of it, and slowly begin stroking it again.

Up and down. Up and down. He stroked my hair in the same rhythm as I stroked his cock, and I couldn’t take my eyes off it - this was the first time I’d actually seen my hand on his cock, I realized, and the sight was mesmerizing.

My hand was so little in comparison to his beautiful cock. Up and down, up and down. Stroke, stroke, stroke.

My brother kept on talking and I kept on stroking, and I lost track of how much time had passed before I tuned back into what he was saying.

“I wasn’t mad this morning, sis, I was just ... disappointed.”

“Disappointed?”

It was the first thing I’d said since I started crying, and my voice had a slight croak to it.

“I mean, I know you try, but it’s sort of a fantasy of mine, to be woken up by someone stroking my cock...”

Fantasy. My brother’s fantasy. Stroke, stroke. Stroking his cock.

“I was just disappointed, because ... well, in the fantasy, the girl is always wearing lingerie. You know, a sexy bra, black lacy panties.”

Without even thinking about it, I glanced down to my own panties. They were blue, with a little ribbon at the top. They were cute, but I had to admit - they were hardly sexy.

Of course, they weren’t **meant** to be sexy. They were panties! I wasn’t going to change my wardrobe, especially for someone else’s fantasy. I looked up to give my brother a piece of my mind, but as soon as I made eye contact, he gestured down to his cock.

My hand had stopped stroking, but my brother’s hadn’t. I found myself immediately matching his rhythm, stroking his cock as he stroked my hair.

God he had a beautiful cock. I loved watching his foreskin as it slipped over the head of his cock. I was doing that. I was in control.

Control ... My glare faded, and a smile returned to my face as I enjoyed the sight of my brother’s cock. God I hoped I could help him. I loved trying to help my brother. Helping my brother cum - it was so important. So important.

Stroke, stroke. Up and down and up and down.

I started to feel a little bad about my panties. I mean, if I really wanted to help my brother out, the least I could do was put a little effort in, right? And beside, what kind of girl didn’t like wearing sexy panties?

Sexy panties, sexy bra. Sexy. I could be sexy. Hell, if I was going to help my brother get over his problem, I **had** to be sexy. I had to help him forget that it was his own little sister jerk him off, and what better way to do that than by being as sexy as possible?

Stroke, stroke, stroke, stroke.

I was already pretty sexy, I had to admit. My tits look great no matter what, and my butt looks great in the panties I own. I bet it would look even better in sexy panties - a thong, or a G-string ... For the next few minutes, I lost track of the time again as I pictured myself in all kinds of sexy outfits. Panties, stockings, garters, panti-hose ... push-up bras, lacy bras, half-cup bras. God, I felt so sexy just thinking about it. No wonder this was a fantasy of my brother’s - every woman looks better in sexy lingerie.

I suddenly realized my brother was talking again.

“And so I think if it was **just** like my fantasy, I might be able to cum... *

“Of course,” I replied immediately. “You know I’m here to help, right?”

“Thanks, sis,” he said with a smile. “You’re the best.”

I stroked him for another few minutes, but it was obvious that nothing was going to happen.

**That’s my fault,** I couldn’t help thinking. **My fault for not dressing sexy...** As I left his room, listening carefully for the sound of my parents, I looked back at my poor brother, unable to cum with other people in the room, and I swore to myself that it would never happen again.

Never again was I going to strip for my brother without wearing something sexy underneath.

* * *

The next day, I went lingerie shopping with my boyfriend.

After all, if I was going to be showing off how sexy my body could be, it made sense to do it with the guy I’m ... y’know, **with**. My body exists to please men, and even though I was buying the lingerie for my brother, there was no man I wanted to please more than my boyfriend.

It was a lot of fun. We hit up three or four shops along the strip mall, and I bought almost everything that would fit (as long as it looked good). I wanted to replace my entire line of underwear - I couldn’t know for sure when my brother would need to be turned on by my body, and so I wanted to make sure that I was always wearing something that showed it off.

My boyfriend was pretty appreciative of my choices, especially as they got more and more risqué. When I bought a peep-hole bra, he got so hard that I thought he was just going to burst out of his jeans.

To reward him for coming shopping with me, I ushered him into the change rooms, and blew him right then and there. The shop was pretty quiet, but the girl behind the counter was reading a book, and so I doubt she even noticed.

Kneeling in front of my boyfriend, showing off my body, taking his cock in my mouth ... it all felt so right. I mean, as a woman, that’s what our bodies were designed to do, right? To please men - to turn them on and get them off.

In that moment, I really felt like I was fulfilling my purpose.

As I swallowed his seed down, my fingers were buried deep in my pussy, and I came as well. It’s so hot, getting someone off, cumming while there’s someone else there.

I just wished I could help my brother experience the same thing.

Once I’d maxed out my credit card, my boyfriend helped me out by buying the last few things I needed, and we went home and fucked. Normally when I make love to my boyfriend, we’re both nude - that’s just how it’s always been. There are a few exceptions, of course - the other night in the parking lot springs to mind - but as a rule, we’ll get naked as an early part of the foreplay.

But after the shopping trip, I just wanted to feel sexy. And so as soon as we got into his bedroom, I stripped off my outer layers, but I kept the corset on (it lifted my boobs and gave me this incredible cleavage) and just moved my panties to the side.

A few minutes later, as I felt my boyfriend’s cum shooting up inside of me, I couldn’t help but smile. I was such a hot piece of ass ... and I loved it.

* * *

The next morning, I checked myself in the mirror three or four times before sneaking into my brother’s room. I wanted to make sure I looked like the ultimate fantasy girl - I was wearing this see-through black chemise with a G-string. My nipples were hard, and clearly visible through the semi-transparent material, and I had stockings and suspenders to top it all off.

If this couldn’t make my brother cum, I had no idea what would.

When I entered his bedroom, he was still asleep, but even though he was covered with a blanket, I could tell that he was hard. My hands itched at the sight of it - I just wanted to wrap them around my brother’s erection, help him get off, feel his soft skin as I stroked his cock, have him cum all over my face ... I blinked, taken aback at the graphic thoughts passing through my head. I must have been more turned on than I’d thought - weird. My heart was beating quite fast, so I didn’t feel relaxed, but I suppose that’s just how powerful our sibling connection was - even as I was nervous about whether I’d be sexy enough, I was still deeply relaxed ... and thus, powerfully aroused.

Taking a deep breath, I stepped forward until I was on the edge of his bed. I didn’t close the door - partially because I didn’t want anyone to suspect anything was going on, but also because I found the thrill of getting caught to be incredibly sexy. Lifting up his blankets, I smiled at the sight of his naked body, and his beautiful erection.

Wrapping one hand around it, I began to slowly stroke, shuddering in pleasure as I did. My new G-string was soaked with my arousal, and I reached down and started stroking the fabric.

For some reason, burying my fingers deep inside my snatch while I jerked my brother off felt wrong, but stroking the material on the outside? That was fine.

And it felt **great**.

My eyes fluttered with pleasure as I moved my face closer and closer to my brother’s exposed cock. Stroke, stroke, stroke, stroke.

I loved the sight of an erection getting pleasured. It was even hotter, knowing that I was the one giving it the pleasure it so desperately craved. I was so relaxed, so turned on, so entranced by the sight of my brother’s hard cock getting stroked by my hand ... When he spoke, I jumped in shock.

Glancing up, I could see that my brother was still asleep. He must have been dreaming, and based on what he’d said, it must have been a pretty sexy dream.

“Yes,” he’d moaned. “Suck it...”

As I continued stroking his cock, watching my own hand go up and down and up and down, he said it again.

“Please,” he begged in his sleep. “Suck it...”

My mouth was inches away from the head of his penis, and I had to admit, the idea was tempting. I’d enjoyed sucking my boyfriend off so much the day before, and - honestly - I’m damned good at it. Maybe my mouth was all that was needed for my brother to get over his problem. Maybe if I wrapped my lips around his cock, used my tongue as I so expertly knew how to do ... maybe that extra piece of stimulation was all that was needed for my brother to cum, to have the orgasm I wanted so much to share with him.

Without even realizing, my fingers had pushed the soaked piece of fabric to the side, and were now slipping in and out of my wet cunt in time with the strokes. Up and down, in and out. Stroke, stroke.

I just wanted to help him. I was here to help my brother. It was what my body was for ... it was why I existed. The words ran through my mind as my brother muttered in his sleep, my stimulation turning his dreams sexual. He probably didn’t even know what he was saying but it was getting into my head as I stroked him, faster and faster, mentally willing for him to get off ... When I next looked up, my brother was awake, staring straight at me. He stopped speaking, and just smiled, a proud smile that told me how well I’d done. I was dressed exactly like his fantasy girl, I was fulfilling his dreams.

Almost ... Making eye contact with my brother somehow panicked me, seemed to shake me out of my spell, and I looked back at his beautiful erection for comfort. I found his hard-on so relaxing, I loved the feeling of his cock’s skin in my hand as I fucked myself with three fingers. I was so wet ... he was so hard ... I just wanted to help, help him get off... 

“Suck it,” he said again, and this time it wasn’t the murmur of a man half-asleep. This time it was an order, and my whole body ached to obey. I wanted to use my mouth on his beautiful erection, I wanted to bring him as much pleasure as I could. I wanted to help him get off - it was my purpose, what my whole body was built for. I was there to get men off ... I was so close to cumming, and as if in a trance, I pictured what it would be like. I imagined leaning forward, wrapping my lips around his cock. I knew exactly how it would taste, how the tang of his skin would be subtly different from my boyfriend’s, I knew how I’d use my tongue to create a wet, warm tunnel for him to fuck. I could practically feel myself bobbing my head back and forth, making all his fantasies come true, helping him break through the wall.

I could taste his cum in my mouth as he came, as my own orgasm hit, and I swallowed it down, a strangely familiar taste. The room blurred as my orgasm overtook me, as I clenched around my fingers, again and again, and my eyes rolled back in my head ... Stroke. Stroke. Stroke. Stroke.

It was quite a few minutes later before I noticed that the penis I was stroking was completely flaccid.

“Hannah?” my brother said softly. “Are you okay?”

“Oh...” I said blearily. “Sorry. What happened?”

“You came, sweetie. You were jerking me off when you came.”

“Did you...”

A shake of my brother’s head told me all I needed to know. My face fell, and I started to apologize.

“No, Hannah, please. I know you did all you could...”

Out loud I agreed, even as I swallowed some of the water that my brother offered me. But inside, I knew he was wrong. I hadn’t done all that I could ... But I would. I wanted my brother to be able to feel the pleasure that I felt, that my boyfriend felt, that everyone else was able to feel. And I’d do anything I could to help him get there.

Anything.


	Chapter 7

Later that night, my brother suggested a trip to the cinema, to check out the new **Transformers** film. To everyone’s surprise, Mom and Dad were able to come as well - they’re normally too busy to hang out with us, but by chance, the whole family had the night off. I sent my boyfriend a text, but he wasn’t able to make it.

Normally I’d just go the movies in whatever I was wearing around the house, but for some reason I was really drawn to a yellow skirt that’s been at the back of my closet forever. It’s a bit short, but since I was wearing some of my new, sexy panties, I figured it made sense to wear something that could potentially show them off.

And of course, if you’re wearing a short skirt, you have to pick a top to go with it. I hadn’t had a chance to wear my new push-up bra yet, so I picked a white button-up shirt that would show off some cleavage to go with it.

Mom raised one eyebrow when I met them at the door, but she didn’t say anything, and I don’t think Dad even noticed. My brother gave me a wink, which made my whole body go warm for a second, but then I realized how weird it was.

My brother was appreciating my body.

Although hell, why shouldn’t he? I was flaunting it. I was flaunting it ... for him.

I mean, when I’m helping him out, that’s fine. I need to dress sexy if I’m ever going to help my brother cum, and as a sister, that’s what I’m here for. I mean, that’s what I signed on for.

But when we’re not ... y’know, doing that, it felt kind of weird to have him ogle me.

We had to leave straight away, or we were going to be late, else I would have gone back upstairs and changed. As it was, I was tempted to skip the whole thing, but I guess I felt I was overreacting.

Sitting in the back with my brother, when he reached out to tussle my hair, I actually flinched, and I could instantly see the hurt in his eyes. My poor brother - here I was, freaking out without letting on what was happening - he hadn’t done anything wrong.

I felt so guilty, I immediately slid over to the middle seat, and leaned my head against my brother’s chest. He asked Mom and Dad to put some music on, and started slowly stroking my hair.

Stroke, stroke, stroke, stroke.

I looked around, stunned, when we arrived at the cinema. I must have totally zoned out for the whole car trip, I was so relaxed.

“What were you kids talking about back there?” Mom asked, and now it was my turn to raise one eyebrow. We hadn’t been talking about anything - I’d just been lying there, enjoying the feeling of my brother’s hand on my hair.

As Mom and Dad went to get the tickets, I wandered over to check out the movie posters. I noticed my brother was staring at me - with a grin, I made sure that no one else was around, and lifted my skirt up, giving him a cheeky flash of the thong panties I was wearing. After all, that’s why I was wearing them - the more I could turn my brother on, the higher the chances of making him cum.

And I needed to make my brother cum. I was going to do whatever it took.

We grabbed some popcorn and made our way into the cinema - my brother was on the end, then me, and then my parents, Mom next to me (so she could share our popcorn).

I’m not a massive fan of the **Transformers** films, but this one was pretty good - while we watched, my brother was idly stroking my hair. I love the way he does that - it’s so relaxing, and it always gets me so wet.

About half way through, he leaned over and whispered something in my ear.

“Hannah,” he said, “that girl - she’s so sexy.”

I nodded in agreement.

“She’s so hot ... she gets me so hard.”

I blushed, and immediately started taking some mental notes. The way she wore her hair, the way she dressed - the more I could emulate her, the better my chances were of getting my brother off.

“Do you ... do you think...”

My brother trailed off, and it took me a few seconds to realize what he was getting at. He’s shy - probably why he has the problem in the first place - but I quickly worked out what he was too nervous to ask.

I answered probably way faster than I should have. I was just so **relaxed** , so **horny** , and the idea of helping my brother in such a public place ... with my parents right there... 

I couldn’t resist.

“Shhh,” was my only reply, and as the giant robots battled before me, I tried to be as subtle as I could, reaching over and unzipping my brother’s pants, guiding his erection out into the cinema where anyone could see.

I was so turned on by the idea of what we were going to do - on one hand, I wanted to constantly check to make sure that Mom wasn’t watching, but I also knew that checking every few seconds was more likely to raise suspicion, and so I continued to stare ahead as I started slowly pumping my brother’s cock, up and down and up and down... 

He leaned in close, still stroking my hair as I jerked him off in the cinema, my arm moving slowly, barely able to resist reaching down and touching myself. Every time the hot chick appeared on-screen, I could feel his cock swell slightly.

Sure, it was risky, but that just made it even more hot. Also, if this was what finally worked ... if my brother could cum here, in a crowded cinema full of people, then I was sure he could cum **anywhere**.

I was helping my brother. Good sisters help their brothers. I was helping my brother cum - I was serving my purpose. I was helping my brother.

Stroke, stroke, stroke, stroke.

“Shhhh,” a man in the row behind us hissed, which surprised me. I was being so careful with my stroking, I knew I wasn’t making a noise. Occasionally I’d lick my hand, make sure it was as well-lubricated as possible, making sure that my brother got as much pleasure as he could from my administrations.

My purpose was to give him pleasure. I was dressed to give my brother pleasure. I loved helping my brother - it was so relaxing. I loved it when my brother saw my sexy lingerie. I loved dressing sexy for my brother.

As I stroked him, I was getting more and more turned on. My exhibitionistic streak was coming to the fore, as well as how **relaxing** it was, being SO comfortable with my brother. I mean, if you’re comfortable enough to jerk someone off in a crowded cinema ... well, that’s pretty fucking sexy.

Up and down and up and down. Stroke, stroke, stroke, stroke.

I’m sexy. I love being sexy. I love helping my brother. Being sexy helps my brother. I love being sexy for my brother.

I blinked twice as a particularly loud explosion startled me out of my own thoughts. I mean, obviously I don’t like being sexy **for** my brother - it’s just a means to an end.

As the fight scene started to wind down, my attention was drawn back to the cock in my hand. It was such a lovely cock - I could practically see it in front of me.

Stroke, stroke, stroke, stroke.

To my delight, I could feel my brother’s hips start to jerk slightly, just like my boyfriend’s do when he’s about to get off. He grabbed the popcorn from me, and I held my breath for the next minute as his hips rose out of the chair, sporadically thrusting.

Had I done it? Had I finally managed to make him cum? Was ... was my brother finally fixed?

And why did the thought make me so inexplicably sad?

When I couldn’t hold my breath any longer, I leaned over, trying to be as casual as I could.

“Did you cum?” I whispered, making sure that even in my excitement, I didn’t draw any attention to us.

“Of course not,” my brother said sadly.

“What?” I replied, in my surprise speaking far too loudly.

“Shhh,” the man behind us said again, and even Mom turned to us. Fortunately, the popcorn was blocking her view of my hand (which was still wrapped around my brother’s rapidly-deflating penis) and she quickly turned back to the movie.

“What?” I said, much more quietly this time, but when I turned to face my brother, he had such a look of sadness on his face that I could hardly bring myself to ask any more questions.

He quietly zipped his pants back up - just in time, too, because Mom almost immediately reached out and grabbed the popcorn.

“Hannah,” she said a few seconds later. “Does this taste weird to you?”

I tried some of the popcorn - there was a strangely familiar tang to it, but to my mind it improved the flavor.

“No,” I said, and she nodded, her eyes never leaving the screen.

* * *

The ride home was uneventful - I sat in the front with Dad listening to music, my brother and Mom sat in the back - but when we got home, I feigned tiredness and went straight to sleep.

As soon as my parents went to bed, I went straight across the hall into my brother’s room.

“Oh hey Hannah,” he said. “What’s up?”

I couldn’t help but look at him like he was an idiot.

“I want to ... you know,” I said as I undid the buttons of my shirt. “Help. I felt like you got really close at the cinema - maybe tonight we can finally crack it.”

“Oh, thanks,” he said awkwardly, unable to stop himself from admiring how well my new bra emphasized my tits. “That’s really nice, but I’m not sure...”

“Please?” I asked, pouting as my skirt dropped to the floor. “I’d really appreciate it...”

“I dunno...” he replied with a heavy sigh, as I angled myself to show off as much of my body as possible. I was wearing nothing but lingerie now, my pert ass split by the strap of the thong. “I just...”

“What? What is it?”

“I can’t help but feel like I’m being so selfish.”

“Not at all!” I said, looking at him earnestly, tempted to punctuate my remark by giving my ass a hard spank. “You’ll be doing me a favor, I swear...”

I wasn’t lying. The car trip there, jerking him off during the movie - it had all been so relaxing, it had gotten me really worked up. I wanted nothing more than to watch my brother’s beautiful cock cum... 

Not that my brother’s cock was ... it was just because it was relaxing... 

I stepped backwards, confused, but my head cleared as my brother started talking again.

“Honestly, it feels so one-sided. You come in here all the time and help me out - what do I do for you?”

“Don’t mention it,” I said sincerely. “Honestly - it’s no trouble. I really love helping you. It’s what I’m here for.”

Again, that didn’t sound quite right, but I was so turned on - so relaxed - that I was having trouble thinking.

“Thanks Hannah, but no ... I don’t think I can accept your help. Not as long as...”

“As what?”

“ ... as it’s just you doing stuff for me.”

When I worked out what my brother was saying, my cheeks flushed.

“Oh!” I said, startled. “You mean ... you want to...”

“No!” he said quickly, seeing the look of shock on my face. “No, Hannah, god no.”

Thank Christ. I love my brother, but the idea of **him** touching **me** like that ... honestly, it made me sick. I was helping him with a condition, but if he were to touch me, that would be ... that would be... 

I hugged my brother in relief. I was so glad that no matter what else happened, we were first of all brother and sister. Even though he was fully-clothed, and I’d stripped down to my lingerie just to turn him on, there was nothing erotic about the hug. Not even when one of his hands ran up my back, and started softly stroking my hair.

Stroke. Stroke. Stroke. Stroke.

“Hannah, I could never do that to you ... that would be wrong. But I can’t just let you be the one doing all the work, so I’m going to have to work this out by myself from now on.”

“No!” I exclaimed, my heart suddenly pounding. “No, you ... you can’t!”

I couldn’t let my brother give up - not when we’d gotten so close! He couldn’t live the rest of his life sexually unfulfilled ... that simply wasn’t fair. He needed my help - I was his sister, and it was my job to help him. It was why I existed... 

“We can’t stop now,” I said, my brother’s hand on my hair calming me down, soothing me. Relaxing me ... turning me on. “Surely there’s some way we can work this out...”

“I can’t just let you keep helping me, Hannah,” he said. “It wouldn’t be fair...”

Fair. Fair. Stroke, stroke. Up and down. Fair.

Without even thinking about it, I’d unzipped my brother’s pants and started stroking his cock. It was such a habit now - I just wanted to be a good sister. I just wanted to help my brother. It was all I wanted. He couldn’t make me stop now, when we were so close.

It wouldn’t be fair... 

Fair. Up and down and up and down. Stroke, stroke, stroke.

I was staring at that beautiful cock of his, my hand barely able to wrap around it. I loved helping my brother - but it wasn’t fair.

Fair.

I was so horny ... it felt like forever since I’d last been fucked, even though it had only been the previous day. I was so turned on, and there was a cock right there ... but of course that was unthinkable. It was my brother’s cock.

Fair.

Without even thinking about it, I dropped down to my knees and took his cock in my mouth. I loved helping my brother. I loved my brother so much. I loved helping my brother. It wasn’t fair that he didn’t get to experience pleasure like the rest of us ... it wasn’t fair.

Up and down and up and down. If I shut my eyes, I could imagine exactly what I looked like, my mouth wrapped around my brother’s cock, my head bobbing up and down. I considered reaching behind myself to let my boobs free, but I knew that he liked the sight of me in sexy lingerie, and that was all that mattered. His pleasure was all that mattered.

Up and down and up and down. Fair, fair, fair, fair.

I needed to help my brother - that much I was certain of. I needed to help my brother. It wasn’t fair that I could fuck my boyfriend and my boyfriend could fuck me and no one could fuck my brother.

Fuck my brother... 

A twitch ran through my whole body at the idea. My brother had a girlfriend, about a year ago. Kelly, her name was - gorgeous, but boring as hell. The whole family had assumed my brother was dating her for her body - of course, if he couldn’t cum, there must have been more than that.

Up and down and up and down.

She must have been aware of his problem. And she’d stayed with him anyway ... I couldn’t help but feel that we’d underestimated Kelly. All this time, we’d thought she was just a good fuck... 

Fuck... 

... when in fact, she must have really loved him, staying with him even though she couldn’t fuck my brother.

Fuck my brother. Fuck... 

Up and down and up and down. Stroke, stroke. Fair... 

Of course... 

If we could find a way that I could help my brother **and** get off... 

Obviously my brother could never touch me. **That wouldn’t be appropriate,** I told myself as I felt his pubes against my lips. Without even thinking about it, I’d started to deep-throat him, flexing my throat muscles as my tongue worked overtime, giving his shaft as much pleasure as I possibly could.

But what if I could get off while helping him? That would be ... that would be... 

That would be fair.

My body twitched at the thought. I was so horny, I was afraid I wasn’t thinking straight. I couldn’t seriously ... I couldn’t suggest it to my brother. He’d think I was a pervert. He’d throw me out. He’d hate me forever for the idea.

But... 

If he wore a condom ... he wouldn’t really be **touching** me. I’d just be stimulating him like I was now. Except ... with my pussy, instead of my mouth.

My mouth was stuffed full of my brother’s glorious cock as I bobbed up and down on it. I just wanted to help him ... I just wanted to help my brother. But it wouldn’t be fair if it was a one-way street.

If he fucked me ... we’d be helping each other. I’d be helping him with his problem, and he’d be helping me cum... 

Up and down and up and down.

It wouldn’t even be fucking, not really. Like now, his cock in my mouth - it wasn’t really **sex** , it was just me helping him out. I was just stimulating him with my mouth. It would be the same thing ... there wouldn’t be anything **wrong** with it, I’d just be stimulating him.

With my... 

I’d be helping my brother. That’s all it would be.

I must have mentally debated it with myself for almost an hour - when I finally made up my mind, my jaw was completely exhausted, and I barely had any saliva left.

“Hear me out,” I slurred, “What if ... what if we help each other?”

“Hannah...” my brother replied calmly, his eyes burning into mine. As soon as he said my name, I knew he was right: of course we couldn’t. That would be wrong. That would be... 

Before I could finish my thought, his hand took over where my mouth had left off, and he started rhythmically stroking his cock. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the sight. Stroke, stroke, stroke, stroke. Up and down and up and down.

Without even thinking about it, one of my hands went to my hair, and I began stroking it to the same pattern.

Stroke, stroke, stroke, stroke.

“Not...” I started, easily distracted by the beautifully relaxing rhythm. He really did have such a handsome cock.

I couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like inside me.

“Not ... touching,” I finally said. “You wouldn’t need to touch me...”

“Good,” he replied. “Because that’s out of the question.”

“But we could ... do you have a condom?”

“Of course,” he said, and to his credit, didn’t even ask why I needed it. He crossed the room without ever stopping his hand from stroking his cock - stroke, stroke, stroke, stroke - and tossed me a condom from his bedside table.

Still on my knees, I crawled over to him, and slipped the condom around his cock.

“Please...” I said softly, lowering my panties, mesmerized by that beautiful cock of his. I was so horny - so turned on - I needed to get off, and if this was the only way I could help my brother, I was going to do it.

My brother looked shocked, but he seemed to see how serious I was, so without hesitation, he lifted me up, lay me back on the bed, and positioned himself at my entrance.

“Yesss...” I hissed, as my brother’s latex-clad cock split my pussy in two and slowly started sliding in. It felt so **good** \- I’ve always enjoyed being fucked, but for some reason, my brother’s cock felt so much better than my boyfriend’s ever had. “Please...”

Shutting my eyes, I tried not to think too hard about the fact that I was fucking my brother.

Fucking my brother... 

Instead, I just focused on individual sensations, sounds and smells. The slight grunt my brother made each time he filled me up the hilt, the feeling of fullness as his pubic hairs pressed against mine. How **good** it felt as his long strokes went in and out and in and out and in and out and in and out... 

How I was **helping** him. I was just stimulating him with my pussy. I was just a wet hole for him to fuck, nothing more. I was helping my brother cum. There was nothing wrong with that.

And it felt so **good**... 

Before long, I could feel my orgasm approaching. As he roughly thrust into me, my brother had started stroking my hair and muttering - I have no idea what he was saying, I figured it was just something to help him cum.

To help him cum... 

The idea of this being what finally helped my brother cum was enough to tip me over the edge. The idea of my soaking wet pussy being what finally milked the cum out of his cock, got him past his mental block. The idea of fucking his little sister being what finally fixed him, what finally let him cum... 

Everything went white as I came, thrusting my hips upward against my brother’s firm body, my cunt clenching and my toes tingling as I had a long, glorious orgasm, the best I’d ever had... 

When it (eventually) finished, I was suddenly overcome with revulsion. What was I thinking? I’d just cheated on my boyfriend - I’d just slept with my ****brother****.

“Oh god,” I said as I felt the bile begin to rise in my throat. I didn’t even stop to collect my panties - I just ran out of the room, praying that I wouldn’t encounter my parents in the hallway, needing to get back to my own room, needing to get away... 

I’d just committed incest, and the worst of it?

My brother hadn’t even cum.


	Chapter 8

When I awoke the next morning, I had calmed down a lot. I was still revolted by what I’d done, of course - I’d been so horny I’d let my pussy do the thinking for me ... so turned on, so eager to help that I’d done the unspeakable: I’d seduced my brother.

That was the worst part about it - I felt so bad for him. He’d come to me with a problem, not expecting his own little sister to be such a pervert. I was so sick - convincing him to fuck me, that since he was wearing a condom it “didn’t count”.

I’d just been taken over by my own wanton lust - I couldn’t blame him for not expecting his little sister to be such a sex fiend. It had even taken me by surprise.

A part of me was tempted to avoid him, purely to avoid any awkwardness, but I knew that wasn’t the right thing to do. The trick is to encounter these things head-on, otherwise they just build up and build up ... And so I put on some of my sexiest new lingerie, and slipped across the hall into his room.

“Hannah!” he said with surprise, and I went beet-red. God, he probably never wanted to talk to me again, not after what I’d forced him into the previous night.

“I’m sorry about last night,” I said, a secret thrill going up my spine at the way he couldn’t stop staring at my nipples, clearly visible through the peep-hole bra that I’d chosen. “I can assure you, it won’t happen again.”

“Of course,” he said, and I wondered if he was even aware of the way that his right hand had gone straight to his cock and started stroking it. Touching himself must have just been an instinct, when a sexy girl came into his room and posed for him in lingerie. Even if it was his sister.

I had more to say, but the motion of his hand distracted me, and I just stood there silently for the next few seconds, watching it pump up and down and up and down.

Stroke, stroke, stroke, stroke ... I shook my head, and forced myself to look back up at his face. He returned my eye-contact, but in my peripheral vision, I saw that he never stopped stroking his big, beautiful cock.

“I was hoping to catch you asleep...” I said, suddenly shy. “We’re so close to making you cum - I know we are. Let’s do everything we can to make that happen?”

“Everything?” my brother replied, raising one eyebrow.

“Of course,” I muttered, aware that my gaze had dropped back down to his cock, where his hand was moving in a slow, familiar rhythm.

Stroke. Stroke. Stroke. Stroke.

**It’s the last time,** I mentally added.

The previous night, I’d sworn that I wasn’t ever going to help my brother again - that it wasn’t good for either of us. When I’d awoken that morning, however, I’d immediately recognized how unfair the idea was. My brother had a problem, a medical condition - and I’d promised to help.

I had to help him. It was what I was there for ... it was what little sisters were for. I wanted to be a good little sister, and I certainly didn’t want to project **my** issues onto **him**. It certainly wasn’t his fault that we’d had sex last night.

And so I’d decided to give it all I had, for one more day. One more day only. If we couldn’t beat it today, we’d have to call it quits. But for one more day, I’d be his.

It wasn’t his fault it was the best sex of my life ... but **that** was a thought I was trying very hard not to have.

And so I sat at the end of his bed, pinching and tugging on my nipples as I watched him stroke his cock. I’d come into the room that morning with a strict set of rules I was going to follow. I wasn’t going to touch him. This was going to be the last day I helped him.

And I certainly wasn’t going to touch myself ... not after where that had led the previous night.

I didn’t trust myself. Not with such a big, magnificent, beautiful cock.

Stroke, stroke, stroke, stroke.

I’d expected to feel nothing but revulsion as I helped my brother for the last time, but despite the disgusting memories I couldn’t help but associate with my brother’s cock, I couldn’t help but admit how nice it was. Thick, strong, delicious. I loved watching him stroke it - up and down and up and down ... Honestly, watching him run his hand up and down his shaft made me miss it. How it felt in my hand - so soft to the touch, so hard underneath. The way it would throb along with his heartbeat, or pulse if I did something particularly stimulating.

I couldn’t help but moan slightly as I tugged on my teats, watching my brother jerk off. God I wanted to touch it - I loved the smell, the touch, the taste ... I was so tempted to play with myself, but I knew that I couldn’t. I couldn’t ... We sat there for so long, him slowly pumping his cock, me tugging on my tits, obscenely stretching my nipples, hoping he was enjoying the sight of my hot body, the view of my shaved pussy that my crotchless panties gave him ... every now and again I found myself muttering “This is the last time,” but my brother would just shush me and tell me not to worry about it, and so I didn’t, just watched as he pumped his thick, gorgeous cock.

I have no idea how long I’d been sitting there when he stopped. My nipples were aching, but I couldn’t tell if that was from need, or from how hard I’d been pulling on them. My brother’s hand halted, and it took me a few seconds to realize what had happened.

“Why?” I said, sounding strangely desperate. We only had one day left ... I needed him to cum. I **needed** it. And it certainly had nothing to do with how much I loved watching him.

That’s what I told myself, at least.

“Hmm?”

“Why did you stop?” I repeated, sounding no less needy.

“It’s no good, Hannah - my hands are just so tired.”

“Oh,” I said, my heart sinking. If I couldn’t help my brother cum, I was worthless.

**In that room,** I told myself. My purpose in that room at that time was to help my brother cum - if I wasn’t able to do that, I was worthless.

It was a strange thought, but it somehow resonated through my whole body.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Maybe tomorrow?”

“No!” I said, far too loudly. There wasn’t going to be a tomorrow - if I was going to help my brother, it was going to have to be **now**.

And of course I was going to help my brother. That wasn’t even a question.

“Here,” I said, throwing my first rule out the window and ignoring the part of my brain warning me it was a bad idea. “Let me...”

I crawled toward my brother on the bed, my tits dangling beneath my body, and positioned myself so he could see as much of me as possible. My hand wrapped around my brother’s cock perfectly, like I was born to do it, and I started stroking, trying to hold back a moan as I did.

Everything about that moment - it just felt so **right**. I loved helping my brother get off. I loved using everything I had - my body, my hand, everything. If it would help him get off, it was his.

**Just for one last day,** I told myself.

As I jerked him off, he started stroking my hair, and I allowed myself to be lost in the moment.

Stroke, stroke, stroke, stroke. Up and down. Up and down. Everything was so relaxing - so **right**. I don’t even know when I started stroking my wet, exposed pussy. Everything was in sync - my hands, my pussy, my brother’s cock. Even his hands were stroking my hair to the same rhythm.

Stroke. Stroke. Stroke. Stroke. I loved helping my brother get off. I loved pleasuring him. I loved being... **Talk,** I suddenly told myself. **Talk to him - it’ll help him get off.**

“I love being your little pleasure slut,” I said, barely even listening to the words sat they tumbled out of my mouth. “God, I fucking love the feeling of your cock in my hands ... I wish I could do this all day. I love it, I truly do. It’s so relaxing - it gets me so wet. I’m so turned on - your cock turns your little sister on so much. I love being a slut for my brother. I love being my big brother’s little pleasure slut. I’m your little sister slut - I’ll do anything for you.”

“Sshhh,” he said in response - I’d surprised even myself, calling myself his little sister slut. Obviously it had put him off ... but I couldn’t stop. The floodgates had opened, and I couldn’t stop talking dirty.

“I loved fucking you last night. I can’t stop thinking about it - I just want to ride your cock all day every day. I just want to make you cum, cum inside me. I want you to cum for your little sister - will you do it? Will you cum inside your slutty little sister?”

“Hannah!” he said, shocked, but I was so horny that I’d completely lost control of my mouth. and so I did the only thing I could think of to shut myself up ... I leaned forward, and took my brother’s cock into my mouth.

**Oh god,** I thought. It felt so good ... it felt so **right**. It felt like I was born for this, for the explicit purpose of sucking my brother’s cock. Just the idea of how it must look - my lips wrapped around his big, thick phallus ... it was almost enough to make me cum on the spot.

But I couldn’t. I was so wet that I was dripping onto the sheets, so horny that my entire hand was now pumping in and out of my sopping cunt, but I couldn’t cum. Something was stopping me, but I was far too distracted to think about what it was.

My head was frantically bobbing up and down on my brother’s cock. I wanted to make him cum more than I’d wanted anything in my life, and looking up at his sweating face, I could see that he was close.

Up and down and up and down. My brother spoke to me as I desperately blew him, his words washing over me like a shower. All I cared about was the thick piece of meat in my mouth. I was practically fisting myself, but my own pleasure was incidental - my brother’s was key.

**I can’t cum until my brother does,** I told myself. Yes, that was it. A perfect incentive. More than anything, I wanted to make my brother cum. More than anything, I wanted to use my slutty sister body to get him off. I wanted him to fuck my mouth until he filled it with his thick, salty cum.

And until he did, I wasn’t allowed an orgasm of my own.

My jaw was starting to hurt, but I didn’t care. I didn’t care about anything but him, but making him cum. He deserved it so much more than I did - that’s why I was there. In his room. I was there to give him pleasure, and I was going to use whatever tools I had to do it.

And so my dismay was overwhelming when I felt him start to slow down.

“What’s wrong?” I said, when he pulled his rock-hard cock out of his mouth.

“It’s no good,” he said, even as he watched my cum-coated hand sliding in and out of my wet pussy. “Last night...”

My heart sank. Oh, god. Last night had been so disgusting to him that he couldn’t cum - not while the memory was still fresh in his mind. I’d screwed up - I’d ensured that he was **never** going to cum with me in the room. I was never going to be able to help him cum - the idea of having to stop made just me want to cry.

**Of course, I’ll be stopping after today no matter what,** I told myself, trying not to dwell on the tragic thought. Helping my brother cum was so relaxing, so hot - it had somehow become the highlight of my day without me even noticing.

**No wonder he thinks I’m a pervert.**

“Last night ... I was so close.”

I looked up in shock. ****Close****?

“I was so close - if you hadn’t run out when you did, I think I might have been able to do it. I think I might have been able to cum.”

I blinked twice, bewildered by what I was hearing. Last night - fucking his own sister - he’d almost been able to **cum**?

What the hell was wrong with my brother?

As I processed what he was saying, his hand drifted back to his cock, and he started to stroke again. Up and down ... up and down. My saliva must have provided him with enough lubricant to overcome his tiredness. Thank god - it was so much easier to think when I watched my brother masturbate, for some reason.

Up and down ... up and down ... stroke. Stroke. Stroke. Stroke.

**I shouldn’t be too hasty to judge,** I told myself. **After all, I managed to cum while being fucked by my own brother. He probably doesn’t even think of it like that - it’s just a wet hole for him to fuck.** **I’m just a wet hole for him to fuck.** The thought made me feel much better. I wasn’t fucking him as his sister - I was just providing him a pussy to stick his dick into. Everything else was incidental - it wasn’t an act of incest, it was one of servitude. I was giving him a nice, warm, wet hole to fuck. It was a service - I was like an inflatable sex-doll, just infinitely more responsive.

**I’m just a hole for my brother to cum in,** I told myself. It didn’t sound so bad when I put it like that. It was a strong thought, one I could grab onto.

And after all, it was the last day I was going to help him.

Stroke, stroke, stroke, stroke.

“Okay,” I said with a whisper, and my brother sounded surprised.

“Oh god, Hannah, I didn’t mean...”

“No,” I said, with a slight shudder of arousal. “Do it ... I want to help you. However I can.”

“Okay...” he said reluctantly, and as his hand left his cock, a twinge of doubt came upon me. Before I could follow the train of thought too hard, however, he’d slipped a condom on his cock, and it was approaching my wet pussy.

**That’s all I am,** I reminded myself as a surge of pleasure ran through my body. **A wet pussy for my brother to fuck.** It was a helpful thought.

For the second time in twenty-four hours, my brother’s condom-clad cock slowly entered my pussy. This time, however, I wasn’t mindlessly turned on (as I had been the previous night) and so I was more able to enjoy the experience for what it was.

**Not,** I reminded myself, **that this is for my pleasure. It’s for his - I’m here to help him cum.** I focussed on the feeling of my cunt adjusting to his width, the slight stretching sensation as his entire length entered me. I concentrated on how being fucked doggy-style helped him hit my G-spot, making me wetter and wetter with each stroke.

**I’m just my brother’s fuck-hole. I’m just a wet pussy for him to fuck.** He pounded me, over and over, and I thought about how sexy it must look - my tits bouncing in my black, lacy peep-hole bra, the noises of pleasure I made from being filled up repeatedly.

**It’s all for him,** I reminded myself. **Every sexy squeal and squelch - it’s all for him. I’m here to be used by him, to get him off, to do whatever he desires.** My brother stroked my hair as he thrust into me, again and again. Unlike last night, I knew I wouldn’t cum before him.

Stroke, stroke, stroke, stroke. In and out and in and out.

**My body exists to serve my brother. It’s his for the taking - anytime, anywhere. If it’ll help him get off, I’ll do it - no matter what.** After I came last time, I’d freaked out and run out of the room. Tonight, I didn’t want to do **anything** that risked him not being able to get off - I didn’t want to stop, I didn’t want to question what we were doing, I didn’t want to think.

**I’m here to make my brother cum. My purpose is to make my brother cum.** I didn’t want to think about what we were doing. I just wanted to be there, on my hands and knees, moving my body for my brother’s pleasure.

**Everything I do is for my brother’s pleasure.** With that thought, I turned my mind off, and concentrated entirely on my brother’s pleasure.

Some time later - it could have been a few seconds, it could have been a year - I could feel my brother’s hips starting to twitch, the way my boyfriend’s do when he’s about to get off. Delighted, I started rhythmically squeezing my vaginal muscles, doing everything I could to coax his cum out.

I thought he’d been fucking me as hard as he could, but a surge of energy seemed to come across him, and he started **really** pounding into me. I knew that my pussy would be sore later, but it didn’t matter.

**Nothing matters but helping my brother cum.** He rammed his hardness into my wet pussy, over and over, until a deep guttural sound left his mouth and he pushed as far inside me as he could, moaning loudly, his cock sporadically spasming.

**Was this it?** I thought, barely able to breathe. It really felt like we’d done it - it really felt like I’d finally, after all these weeks, managed to do the unthinkable and help my brother cum inside me.

I stayed perfectly still, on my brother’s bed on my hands and knees, as he slumped onto my body, clearly spent. Finally, after a few minutes had passed and I felt his cock start to soften, I couldn’t hold back any longer, and spoke up.

“Did ... did you cum?”

Holding my breath as he pulled his softening cock out of my pussy, I heard the sound of the condom being thrown into the bin. Only when it was gone did my brother replied.

“Sorry,” he said, and I collapsed on the bed with sadness. “Maybe next time.”

“Of course,” I responded, and when I turned around to see that he was looking at me, gave my ass a little wiggle. “Maybe next time can be soon...”

With a smile, my brother nodded, and with a delighted squeal, I crawled over to him and took his flaccid dick into my mouth, using every trick I knew to get it hard again.

I was going to make my brother cum today, even if it meant we did nothing until midnight but fuck.

He didn’t cum the next time we fucked. Or the next time, or the time after that. The fourth time, he fucked me for almost an hour straight before throwing out the condom and giving up - and as per my self-imposed rule, I didn’t cum either.

I’ll tell you, I thought I’d been horny in the past. Letting someone use you for sex for close to 6 hours straight? Even if it is your brother, even if you’re sore by the end of it: there’s nothing hotter, and by the time we were at risk of our parents coming home, I was more turned on than I’d ever been in my life. I was sweaty, I was dripping, and I would have done anything in the world to help my brother get off - even if just so that I could find relief myself.

My brother was keen to try again, but I knew I’d go mad with frustration if I let him fuck me for another few hours, and so I insisted that we stop. (also, although **we** knew we were doing the right thing, our parents had no way of knowing our good intentions and think we were up to something sick.)

“Try again tomorrow?” he asked, and I agreed immediately. My promise to myself seemed a bit selfish now - after all, I was the one calling it quits, and my brother hadn’t done anything wrong.

Why punish both of us for something that was nobody’s fault?


	Chapter 9

“Hannah,” my brother said with a serious look on his face, “we’ve got to talk.”

I was in the process of unzipping my dress. I’d been wearing it all day, desperately waiting to get home, take it off, and show my brother the scorching-hot lingerie I’d been wearing underneath.

Not that it was particularly well hidden - the dress barely ended below my red thong, and it showed off my tits quite generously.

Still, there was something so hot about leading a “double life” - no one but my brother knew just how naughty my underwear was each day, and I loved it. Coming home and exposing myself to him was the highlight of my day.

Well, that and the hour-long fuck he always gave me afterward.

I’d been trying to help my brother cum for just over a month now, and the last week we’d been closer than ever. For the last week, he’d fucked me every day - going through several condoms each time - but he’d yet to actually cum from it.

I knew we were right on the verge though. Something was blocking him - we just had to figure out what.

Looking up at my brother expectantly, I let him speak. He’d mentioned once that he found submissiveness sexy, and so whenever we were alone, I kneeled before him to strip.

“Hannah,” he said, “this last week has been great.”

I smiled in response. He wasn’t wrong. I tried not to cum until my brother did - solidarity, you see - but at the end of each session, my brother let me have one orgasm. Letting him control it made him feel sexy, he explained, and so I’d been training myself to cum on command.

Last night, for the first time, I hadn’t even needed any stimulation - after he’d finished fucking me for the second time (no orgasm on his end, unfortunately), I’d knelt in front of him, he’d stared into my eyes, and simply ordered me to orgasm.

It was one of the most intense experiences of my life.

After I came, I sometimes felt a bit of guilt about what we were doing, but it passed pretty quickly. After all, I was a woman, my brother was a man - we were just doing what our bodies were intended for. Women’s bodies are designed to give pleasure to men, and that’s certainly what I was doing - my time spent helping my brother had really taught me a lot about the pleasure my body was capable of providing.

“And I really appreciate your dedication to helping me out.”

In a way, it was quite sad that my brother was the only recipient of my newly-learned knowledge. I’d decided a few days ago that in order to really be committed to helping him out, my brother needed constant access to my body. If there was ever a chance that he could cum, day or night, I needed to be there, each of my holes available for his use.

And so I’d broken up with my boyfriend. It was an obvious decision, but certainly not an easy one. Time spent with him was time away from my brother, and I really couldn’t afford that - what if I was spending the night with my boyfriend, and my brother was able to cum?

The idea terrified me.

No, it was better this way. Any time of the day or night, all he needed to do was call my name, and I’d be there, ready to serve. Some mornings at breakfast, he’d watch me deep-throating a breakfast sausage, and a raise of his eyebrow was all that I needed - a few minutes later, we’d be in the closet, his cock deep in my throat, pussy, or ass.

Yeah, my ass - I’d never had anal sex before, but the second my brother mentioned that it might help him cum, I knew I didn’t have a choice. Everything I do - everything I am - is to help him get off, and he didn’t even need to mention it twice. I walk around all day with my ass lubed up, just in case my brother wants to fuck my tightest hole.

“But there’s something I need to tell you...”

I just nodded, hoping that it made my tits bounce enticingly. I’d started watching my movement a lot these days, trying to make sure that everything I did - every gesture I made, every step I took - would help get my brother hard, so I could help him get off.

God I wanted to help my brother get off. It was constantly at the forefront of my mind - it was the first thing I thought about waking up, and the last thing I thought about before I went to bed. I couldn’t even remember a time when I masturbated thinking about anything else.

I couldn’t even remember life before it held the simple, pure purpose it did now.

“What is it?” I asked, my voice a unique mix of baby-girl and sultry seductress. One night, after my brother had fucked me three times before going to sleep, I’d pulled up his internet history and searched for the porn stars he liked best. As I’d gone around my regular routine the next day, their videos had been playing on my headphones, and I’d been trying to emulate their tone exactly.

I didn’t know for sure if it had worked, but I figured it couldn’t hurt. Anything I could do to turn my brother on more, I did. Anything.

“I’m just worried...”

My heart-rate quickened. I’d done some reading, and discovered that stress was a common cause in difficulties orgasming. As a result, I’d started to do everything I could to reduce my brother’s stress - I still woke him up with a blow-job, but I’d started bringing a cup of coffee with me. My parents hadn’t said anything when I took over his chores, and I’d even started cleaning his room for him.

If my brother had any kind of tension or stress in his life, it reduced the chances of him reaching orgasm, and that was the last thing that I wanted.

“ ... fucking you has been great, but I’m having trouble with the fact that you’re my sister.”

“Of course,” I responded immediately, blushing slightly at his words.

It had been difficult for me, too, but I’d found a simple solution that helped me cope: I didn’t think about it.

Simple as that. When I was horny, it was easy not to think, and when I wasn’t... 

Well, I was horny most of the time.

I wondered if other people had started to notice how often I just stared into space with a smile on my face, or the increasing number of mistakes I’d been making in what had once been extremely simple work.

If they had, they hadn’t said anything. And if they weren’t saying anything directly, I frankly wouldn’t have noticed - most of my mental energy was spent on thinking of more ways I could help my brother.

**Maybe if I work harder to turn him on,** I thought, before realizing that I was already doing everything in my power in that regard. I decided to stop thinking (which was getting easier and easier) and wait for my brother’s solution.

“And so I thought to help with that, you could pick up some costumes.”

**Brilliant,** I thought, barely able to stop myself from swooning. It was such a simple, elegant solution - my big brother was so smart. So smart, and strong, and manly ... and sexy... 

Without thinking, one hand had reached up my dress and I’d started playing with myself, almost drooling as I stared at the outline of my brother’s cock. It was so big ... so beautiful... 

And, as I’d proven over the last 6 days, **so** capable of giving pleasure.

Following my eyeline, my brother smiled as he unzipped his pants.

“Maybe we can start on the costumes tomorrow,” he said, and I nodded enthusiastically, a shockwave of pleasure running through my whole body as his cock came into view.

“Of course,” I said. “Anything you want...”

* * *

I burned through my savings pretty quickly. Once or twice, I hesitated, but not for long.

**If it helps my brother get off...**

That was all the motivation I needed to hand over the money.

My brother came with me. We’d gone to a mall a few towns over, just in case we ran into anyone. I could understand how, from the outside, it could look weird - if you didn’t know about my brother’s condition, it would be easy to think his sister acting as his personal sex slave was wrong.

And that, for all the right reasons, is what I was: my brother’s personal fuck-slut. His private set of cum-holes. I existed to sheath his cock, to stimulate it. My tits were there to get him hard; my wet cunt was there to get him off.

Was it bad how much that turned me on?

**Easier not to think about it.**

As soon as he saw me modeling the nurse outfit for him, I could tell my brother was turned on. I’d trained myself to recognize the signs - any time there was even a chance of making him cum, I wanted to know. The only way of ensuring my brother came was if I dedicated my life to making it happen. I needed to transform myself into the perfect cunt-slave: everything about my existence was for the benefit of my brother.

Even a week ago, my brother would probably have felt the need to tell me he was close, that he was turned on, that there was a chance he could cum. But now, I knew my place: the second I recognized the signals, I’d turned around, flipped my slutty nurse’s dress up, and bent over. I hoped that the sight of his sister presenting her slutty little holes to him would be a turn-on.

As I felt his hard cock rub up and down my exposed slit, I felt a pang of guilt - maybe he would have preferred a blow-job? Maybe he would have liked it more if I’d knelt in front of him, pulling down the top of the nurse’s outfit, exposing my tits to him before letting him fuck me?

I swore that I’d get better at anticipating my brother’s needs.

**Whatever it took.**

We bought a dozen costumes that day - slutty nurse, slutty witch, slutty cop, slutty student ... even slutty Indian, which I would have considered offensive just a few weeks ago. Now, it didn’t matter. If it helped get my brother hard, it went on the card.

Sometimes he’d just finger me to orgasm after a costume (the idea of getting caught was still a huge turn-on for me, and just parading my body for his pleasure was enough to get me hot) but most times he’d fuck me. Each and every time, I’d wait until he discarded the condom and then turn to him, a hopeful look on my face.

Each time I was met with a sad shake of his head.

When we got home, my brother had a genius idea - he was able to masturbate without a problem, he just couldn’t cum when there was anyone else in the room. He suggested taking photos of me in my new costumes (and some of me without them) so that when he jerked off alone, it would be like I was there.

Exposure therapy, I think they call it. The idea was so clever, and so hot - even when I wasn’t there, I’d be helping him. Twenty-four hours a day, I’d be serving my purpose, getting my brother hard.

I almost came on the spot just thinking about it.

He got so turned on by the idea that he pulled his dick out and started jerking off in front of me. I couldn’t help my mind from wandering as he stroked - up and down and up and down... 

Images started coming into my head as I played with myself, watching my brother masturbate. Images of my naked body, captured on film for all to see. I guess I’ve had a bit of an exhibitionist streak lately, but the idea of photos, of **film** ... it was really taking things to the next level.

I imagined having my own pornographic website. “Hannah’s Holes.” Pictures and video of my naked body - images of me getting off, filling my body up with toys, dressing up for the camera, sucking my brother’s dick... 

Being fucked on camera.

I almost blacked out when I came. These days, all my orgasms were intense - I was so turned on all the time, so desperately in need of the release they provided - but this one was particularly powerful. It seemed my fetish was greater than I thought.

Once I came to, I realized that it wasn’t practical, of course. Being my brother’s sex slave - that was a medical thing. I was trying to be as unselfish as possible. Actually starting a porn site - that was the kind of thing that could ruin the rest of my life.

Even though I had cum, my brother wasn’t even close. Guilt hit me like a freight train - I’d just been lying there playing with myself, ignoring my brother’s needs. What an awful sister! I couldn’t believe how selfish I was being.

I went to remedy the situation, but my brother pushed me away. It seemed that he was enjoying taking care of it himself for a change, and so I just lay back and watched, trying to contort my body so my brother would have the hottest view possible.

Up and down and up and down.

My job - my role in life - was to fulfill my brother’s fantasies. It was the only way I’d be able to make sure he came - and if I couldn’t help my brother cum, what kind of a worthless slut was I?

No, I needed to do everything I could to make my brother’s every fantasy come true. It was all I was good for. It was why I existed.

Stroke. Stroke. Stroke. Stroke.

My mind started wandering. I tried to think of new fantasies I could fulfill - I tried to put some time aside for it every day, coming up with new ways I could pleasure my brother. The costumes were a great first step - I’d be able to role-play, pretend to be a sexy nurse looking after him in the hospital, or a slutty student, kneeling before him, begging to blow him in return for an A+... 

Up and down. Stroke, stroke.

But what else was there? What was a fantasy that every man had? The Oedipus Complex flitted into my mind before I firmly batted it away - I was already skirting far too close to the line of incest, and it wasn’t something I wanted to dwell on.

And then it hit me:

How do guys get off? Watching porn. And why do guys watch porn?

Because they want to fuck a porn star.

I don’t even know when my hand had returned between my legs, but it was stroking in time with my brother’s administrations. Stroke, stroke, up and down.

My brother needed a porn star to fuck. And if I had my own website, **I could be that porn star**.

It would be selfish for me to start a site for my own depraved purposes, but if I was helping my brother ... if seeing his little sister do porn and then getting to fuck her turned him on... 

It was perfect.

I started cumming again, uncontrollably moaning my fantasies, telling my brother how much I wanted to fuck for the camera. How I wanted men everywhere, all across the country, all across the **world** to see my perfect little slutty body. How I wanted to expose myself to the world, be a slut for everyone to see.

I wanted everyone to see what a little slut I was. I wanted to fulfill my brother’s every fantasy, and if that meant becoming a porn star for him to fuck, then that was what I had to do.

My life was nothing, compared to how important it was to make my brother cum.


	Chapter 10

“I did it,” my brother said softly. “It worked ... last night, I was able to cum.”

My jaw dropped. We’d done it!! **I** had done it! I’d finally been able to make my brother cum!

Well, sort of.

* * *

Eighteen hours earlier, I’d been in a club. The floor was sticky, the music was loud, and everywhere I looked there were scantily-clad women, dressed in outfits that were ... well, not dissimilar to mine.

My six-inch heels drew attention to the black skirt I was wearing, which covered no more than a few inches of flesh - it started just below my navel, and finished an inch or two below my pussy. My boobs were barely contained in a snakeskin top that wrapped around my neck, barely held together by two thin pieces of fabric criss-crossing along my back. The skirt was split up the side, and I wasn’t wearing anything underneath.

I was on the prowl.

As I stalked my way across the dance floor, the music made my head throb, and I would sporadically be overwhelmed with doubt. **What am I doing here? Why am I dressed like this in public?** **I’m not even a lesbian.** Before the thoughts could get a hold of me, however, all I needed to do was shut my eyes and there it was. My brother’s thick, smooth cock - his hand, stroking it up and down, as his beautiful deep voice gave me calm, firm instructions.

**I’m here to pick up,** I reminded myself. **I’m here to find a sexy girl, take her home, and fuck her until the break of dawn.** My purpose reinvigorated, I would open my eyes and continue my search.

I’d never been to a lesbian bar before. “Bar” probably isn’t the right term - alcohol was being served, but the centre of focus was the dance floor. Dozens of women, each sluttier than the last were dancing with each other, rubbing their bodies against each other, reveling in how hot, how sexy they looked.

More than anything, I wanted to be one of those women.

A friend of a friend had told me about this place - on Saturday nights, men were banned from the premises, and as a result the women felt like they could go all-out. Without any fear of the male gaze (“fear” wasn’t a word that made sense to me in that context ... but I suppose that’s why I’m not a lesbian) they would come in as scantily-clad as they liked, knowing that there was no one here to look at them but other lesbians.

Other lesbians ... and me.

It didn’t take me long to attract some attention. I’ve always been proud of my body, but since I devoted myself entirely to serving my brother’s needs, I knew that it had to be in the best possible shape. Every morning, I remove every follicle of hair below the neck, and then spend at least an hour at the gym, hitting the treadmill.

When I first started going, I would wear my standard gym gear - track pants and a sweater - but as soon as my brother learned where I was spending my mornings, he insisted that I wear a bit less. He said that he liked the idea of other men looking at me, lusting after me, wanting me ... and knowing that he was the only one who got to take advantage of my body.

After that, it was nothing but sports bras, yoga pants, and occasionally even gym shorts. I loved it - getting to show off the curves that only my brother gets to touch.

I’ve even had a few people recognize me from my site. If it were up to me, I’d have rewarded them with a quickie ... but I knew my brother wouldn’t like that.

And that was all that mattered.

Every day, as soon as I came home from the gym, my brother would fuck me. He enjoyed taking my sore, sweaty body - my slippery flesh, the raw smell of perspiration. I’d always cum a few times, but even after going through a condom or two, my brother never did.

It was the gym that had put the idea into his head - one day, I’d noticed a girl staring at me. She was tall, slender ... very attractive. After fucking me into a gooey mush, my brother liked me to tell him all the sexual fantasies I’d had while working out. It turned him on, knowing that I wanted to fuck other men, but never would - that my body was his to control.

And so I’d told her about the girl. I hadn’t seriously considered it, but the thought had crossed my mind that she might recognize me from my porn site, and that to thank her for her patronage, I should hook up with her or something.

Like I said, it wasn’t something I’d thought about too much - I really have no attraction to other women. I never have, really. But for some reason, the idea really appealed to my brother - he started jerking off at the idea, and as I tried to turn him on by going into more detail, he flipped me over and slipped his cock deep into my ass.

I was sweaty, but hadn’t lubed up yet, and so there was actually quite a lot of pain as he started to fuck me, but I wasn’t going to tell him that. This idea had really turned him on, and there was a chance that he might even be able to cum - what sort of an ungrateful sister would I be if I ruined that for him?

So instead I just lay there, sharing more and more details of a lesbian fantasy I didn’t even have, as my brother pounded my tight asshole. As he continued fucking me, I started to actually find the pain a bit of a turn-on, and before long I was cumming, my buttocks clenching around his cock as I came.

Without permission, but after a gym session, my brother never said anything. He’d just punish me for it later.

Even as my orgasm overcame me, my story never slowed down. It stuttered slightly as my body began to wrack with pleasure, but I kept on making up details, drawing from the extensive collection of lesbian films I’d found on my brother’s collection. Every minute I wasn’t directly pleasing him, I was researching what turned him on, or taking care of my body, or trying to come up with new ways I could get him powerfully aroused.

Soon he bellowed, and his cock began to soften. He withdrew from between my pert ass-cheeks, and I looked at him hopefully.

He shook his head. Every time he shook his head, it was like someone ripped my heart out - it was just a constant reminder that I wasn’t good enough, that no matter how much I tried, my body wasn’t hot enough to get my brother off.

It reminded me that I was a failure ... and inspired me to try harder.

As I walked to the shower naked, sweat dripping from my anus, my mind was awhir. Sure, my brother didn’t like the idea of me fucking another guy ... but maybe a girl was different? Maybe he wouldn’t have a problem with that - especially if I didn’t get any joy from it, if it was purely for his pleasure?

After I washed myself off, applied deodorant, lube and perfume (I’ve been trying slightly different perfumes for the last few weeks, making notes on exactly which ones turn him on the most) I marched straight to my brother’s room, knelt down in front of him, and proposed the idea.

He loved it - he loved it so much that he started roughly fucking my throat, before turning me over and sneezing loudly. I sneeze when I see a particularly bright light - when my brother’s really turned on, he sometimes sneezes all over me, and I can feel it hitting my skin, in a few short, warm spurts. I find it more than a little weird, but I’d never tell him that - with his condition, he’s already got enough to worry about.

And so the next time I saw the girl at the gym, I’d pulled her aside.

“Hannah,” I’d introduced myself, and when she’d given her name, I’d leaned in for a kiss.

As I thought, she was a lesbian - it turned out later that she didn’t even know about my site, just found me extremely attractive. We made out for a few minutes, and then exchanged numbers. When I got home from the gym that day, my brother fucked me harder than I could ever remember - he insisted on me repeating every detail of it, how her lips had felt against mine, what had been running through my head.

I considered making up stories about how hot I found it, but I knew that I couldn’t lie to my brother ... I can never lie to my brother.

... and so I’d told him the truth, that I’d found the whole thing sort of boring, but that the other girl (whose name I’d already forgotten) had seemed really into it.

When I called the girl, it ended up being a wrong number - maybe fake, or maybe she’d just gotten it wrong - and I never saw her at the gym again. But the seed had been planted, and so just a few days later, there I was in the club, dressed to kill.

One or two girls had looked at me with familiar looks on their faces, which made me blush - I had no idea that lesbians looked at porn, let alone **my** porn - but I made sure to avoid them. I wanted someone who wanted me for **me** , not so they could bang someone famous.

On the dance floor, I again lost myself in the music. For a few minutes, I was dancing, and I felt ... normal. Well, not normal. Extremely strange, really. For a few minutes, I forgot that I was my brother’s 24-hour slut, that everything I did and thought was to get him off. For a few minutes, I was just a “normal” girl, enjoying the music, dancing ... It was really weird. Nice, but at the same time ... dangerous. I didn’t have a purpose. I didn’t have a simple, singular purpose.

The idea made me feel simultaneously free and sick, and I ran to the bathroom. Away from the music, away from the swaying bodies and the pulsating lights, it felt ... right. Right, and wrong. I wasn’t a slut. I was Hannah, a normal girl with a normal life and normal wants and... 

“Are you okay?”

To my left was a girl ... she must have been about a foot shorter than me, wearing a tight dress. She had a cute face, framed by her long, black hair.

**Just like my brother likes,** I couldn’t help but think, and in that moment I was back.

I didn’t say anything in response - I just grabbed her head and pulled it towards mine. She resisted for a second, but as my hands moved to her butt, she quickly realized I was up for it, and returned my kiss with gusto.

We stood there in the bathroom for what felt like hours, just making out, exploring each other’s bodies with our hands. I’m not a lesbian, but it was definitely nice - her lips were soft, her hands were gentle, and she seemed to like it when I treated her roughly.

All the time we were making out, a single thought was on my mind - **What would my brother like? What does my brother want to see?** **What must we look like?** Before I’d left, my brother had given me very strict instructions, and I followed them to the letter. After a few minutes of making out, she went to pull me into one of the bathroom cubicles, but I wasn’t having any of that. I grabbed her hand, pulled her out the door, and a few minutes later we were in a taxi on the way to my house, making out furiously, beginning to finger each other.

She seemed to be excited by my lack of panties, and hers provided no obstacle - as my finger went between her legs, I made sure not to get her **too** excited. I didn’t want to make her cum - not yet. Not until my brother was watching.

My parents were watching TV in the living-room when we got in - they didn’t even look up as I dragged the hot, slutty girl I’d picked up into the hallway and made out with her for a few minutes more. Our moans of passion must have been audible - at one point, Dad turned the TV up slightly, probably to drown us out.

Making out loudly in the hallway had been the pre-arranged signal, to let my brother know I was coming in. After a few minutes, I had the girl (whose name I still hadn’t caught) panting, and without further ado, pulled her upstairs and into my brother’s room.

“Is this... -” she started to ask, but before she could say anything, I had hiked up her skirt, pushed her onto my brother’s bed, and pulled down her sopping wet panties.

I had carefully positioned her so that her legs were pointing directly toward the closet where my brother was hiding - I wanted him to have the best possible angle of what was going on. I’d tasted my own pussy before, but this girl’s tasted slightly different. Not better or worse, just different.

To my surprise, she started giving me instructions on how to lick her. If I’d really been interested in her, of course I would have followed them, but the only reason we were doing this was to get my brother off, and I was pretty sure that he didn’t want to hear instructions on giving head to a girl.

I didn’t say anything in response, just reached up and slapped her across the face. She froze in shock, but as my assault on her pussy continued, relaxed, and I swear she got even wetter from it.

**Maybe my brother would like to slap me like that,** I thought, and the idea of it - of my brother slapping me, causing me pain just for his own amusement - turned me on more than anything had that night.

Making sure that my ass was as visible as possible to my bro, standing behind me in the closet, I took a finger and inserted it into the stranger’s sopping wet pussy. She moaned, and I took that as an invitation to insert another one - as my tongue repeatedly ran across her clit, my two fingers pumped in and out of her tight pussy.

**No wonder it’s tight,** I thought to myself. **She’s probably never even been with a man...** A part of me wished that my brother would burst out of the closet and take her by force. She wouldn’t be happy, but her pleasure was irrelevant. She was irrelevant, except for as a way of helping my brother get off. That’s all she was good for - that’s all any woman was good for.

Listening carefully, I could have sworn I heard a muffled grunt or two coming from the closet, and that was all I needed to spur me on. The knowledge that my brother was just a few feet away, getting off at the sight of me screwing this girl - it was so hot that I didn’t even care that I wasn’t attracted to women.

I was making my brother hard, and that was sexy enough for me.

Before long, the strange girl started cumming, her hips thrusting, causing her whole body to rise off my brother’s bed. She came differently to me - a series of whimpers, followed by a shout. I found it a little bit sexy, but mostly just interesting.

“Okay,” she said, a wicked smile on her face. “Your turn.”

As I undid my top, allowing my breasts to fall into view, she unzipped my skirt and pulled it down. There I lay on the bed, naked, another woman between my legs. I sure hoped my brother was enjoying the sight - and more than that, the knowledge that I was going to do whatever it took, that I’d fuck a stranger - a female, at that - just for the chance of making him cum.

I’d somehow got the feeling that my brother enjoyed knowing how little I got from hooking up with a girl, and so I kept my face flat and emotionless as she went down on me. I just stared at the closet, unable to stop thinking about my brother watching up, his hand wrapped around his cock, stroking up and down and up and down ... Even as I came, I remained still. The girl didn’t comment at all - I guess everyone’s different, and she just assumed that was how I did it.

We made out for another half hour, enjoying our own tastes on each other’s lips. Her breasts were a tiny bit smaller than mine (and mine had become slightly smaller, the more I went to the gym - a thought that sometimes kept me up at night with worry) but they were just as pert, with pink up-turned nipples. I made a big show of tasting them, smacking my lips, hoping that my brother was getting off at the sight.

It was almost 4am before we finally drifted off to sleep - we’d made love into the early hours of the morning. She seemed to like my dominant streak, and I have to admit that I quite enjoyed spanking her, watching her ass and thighs ripple every time I did. I pinned her down and forced my cunt into her face; she shivered in orgasm on all fours as I fucked her with the strap-on dildo that I’d bought explicitly for this purpose.

When she finally collapsed, spent, I lay next to her, enjoying the visual contrast of my pale skin against her slightly darker tone, and when she started snoring, my brother finally left his closet, giving me a thumbs-up on the way out.

The next morning, I was awoken by the feeling of my guest’s lips on my shaved pussy. It seemed that she shared my brother’s predilection for morning sex, but without an audience, I wasn’t interested.

Of course, an audience was something I could easily arrange ... Reaching over and borrowing her phone (mine was in my handbag, which was somewhere at the end of the bed) I texted my brother a photo of the strange girl going down me.

“What’re you doing?” she said at the sound of the artificial shutter, but I just shushed her and instructed her to keep going.

A few minutes later, my brother entered, and moved quietly across the room, until he was standing right next to me without the girl having noticed a thing. I happily wrapped my lips around his cock and started sucking, as he watched the girl’s talented tongue work its magic between my legs.

It didn’t take long for her to realize something was up, and she looked up in shock.

“What the fuck?” she asked, disgusted, and in response to the joint smiles of my brother and I, began to back away wide-eyed.

With a simple gesture, my brother indicated that he wanted to fuck me, and so after fetching a condom, putting it over his dick, and carefully making sure that it was thoroughly lubricated with my saliva, I flipped over and moaned with pleasure as his wide, strong penis entered me.

“You guys are sick!” my lesbian lover of the previous night yelled as she hurriedly put the rest of her clothes on. Looked like she wasn’t going to be joining us - pity. Fucking a lesbian was probably something that would really help my brother.

The door slammed as she left, and as she stomped downstairs, my brother leaned close into my ear.

“I did it,” he brother said softly. “It worked ... last night, I was able to cum.”

My jaw dropped. We’d done it! **I** had done it! I’d finally been able to make my brother cum!

Well, sort of. Indirectly. And yes, he’d still cum by his own hands. But I’d been in the room! Me - my body - had done it!

We were one step closer. All we had to do now was make him cum more directly - by my hand. Or my ass. Or my pussy ... I shuddered in orgasm at the thought.


	Chapter 11

I picked up another girl the next night, and another the night after that.

Knowing that I’d made my brother cum ... it was like it had lit a fire underneath me. I’d thought I was doing all I could beforehand, but now - just the thought of his hand pumping up and down his hard cock, getting off at the sight of me fucking another woman... 

I knew he’d gotten off at the porn we’d made together, and I hoped that he’d gotten off just thinking about what a dirty slut I was for him, but at the knowledge that he’d gotten off with me **in the room** , something he’d never been capable of before... 

It felt like we’d achieved a medical breakthrough. Like the guy who discovered penicillin, or Mary Curie with the x-ray. We’d **done** it. I suddenly understood the appeal of being a doctor - if fixing someone made you feel **this** good, it must be the best job in the world.

And the thought was enough to make me a woman possessed. From that moment onward, I was constantly wet and on the verge of orgasm, just thinking about my brother shooting cum out of his cock while I lay in front of him, my naked, sweaty body entwined with another girl.

I don’t even remember how I used to spend my time before now, but over the next few weeks, I fell into a steady routine. By day, my brother and I would make porn. Every night, I’d dress up in the sluttiest outfits I could get my hands on, go out to a bar, and pick up another girl, spending the night making love to her. And each morning, I’d make sure that I was the first to wake up, so I could start pleasuring my latest conquest in her sleep.

When she woke up, I’d insist that she go down on me, and my brother would sneak in. I’d desperately suck him off, doing everything I could to make him to cum in my hungry mouth - when my new lover would notice our incestuous actions, she’d inevitably freak out and leave.

Perhaps subtlety would have yielded greater results, but each morning I was so sleep-deprived and horny, sucking my brother off invariably seemed like the best of all possible plans.

More than anything, I wanted to find woman who would join us, who would do as I did, and dedicate herself to helping my brother. As time had gone on, it had become increasingly obvious that I wasn’t enough - that my brother needed more women to serve him, more girls to fulfil his every fantasy.

In a sense, that’s what I was doing each night - recruiting. Trying to find an open-minded bi girl, one who wouldn’t run at the sight of me sucking off a strange man while she went down on me, but who would be excited by it. One who would encourage it, join in, let my brother use her wet holes for his pleasure... 

But no matter how I tried, it seemed that girl didn’t exist.

A month after the first time I’d brought a girl home, my luck ran out. Maybe word about me had spread, maybe I was just having an off night, or maybe my sleep deprivation was starting to show (sleep just felt so selfish, when I could be wrapping my body around my brother’s hard cock, contorting every muscle I had available in an attempt to get him off).

Whatever the reason, I came home alone that night.

My brother was disappointed, of course. So was I - I felt like I’d failed him. But no matter how brazenly I’d acted, no matter how forward I’d been, no one had been interested. I’d even tried to flaunt my semi-celebrity status (my porn site was really starting to take off) but it was no good.

I was useless. If I couldn’t bring home a hot piece of tail for my brother to admire, what good was I?

As I crawled towards him, dragging my exposed nipples across the carpet in a display of utter servitude, my brother had listened to me describe my failure. Rather than being angry, however, he seemed thoughtful. As I reached his feet and started licking them contritely, he started to explain a plan he’d been playing with.

I took his dick as deep into my throat as I could, occasionally grunting in agreement.

“ ... and so I think we should invite Kelly to join us.” he said, before stopping as he shuddered with pleasure and started bucking his hips. I swallowed frantically - sometimes after I’d been blowing him for a while, my saliva somehow built up, and I suddenly had to swallow a bunch of it at once.

I was such a freak, and it must have been off-putting for my brother, because he always insisted I stop giving him head shortly after.

“Kelly?” I said, licking my lips, enjoying the strange aftertaste that so often appeared after fellating my brother for a while. “Won’t she...”

“No,” he said shortly, and I immediately shut my mouth, submissively staring up at him. Thinking was becoming harder for me, the less I slept, and so I’d found it easier to let my brother do the thinking for both of us. The limited mental space I did have, I dedicated to sex - that was, after all, what I was best at, and so it made sense to put most of my energy toward that. Or something.

Thinking too hard about it seemed counter-productive, and so I let my brother take care of that too.

“There’s something I have to tell you,” he said, and I simply nodded in response, hoping my make-up wasn’t smudged ... or if it was, that it was smudged in a way that my brother found sexy. He was going to talk, and that meant my job was to listen and look good.

That was my specialty. Sex, and looking good for my brother. I existed to get my brother off. Anything else was irrelevant.

“You remember I dated Kelly for about a year? Well when she heard about my condition, she wasn’t as supportive as you were.”

I couldn’t help but smile. I loved knowing that I was a good sister. A good sister supports her brother, no matter what.

A good sister does everything she is told.

“And so I did something a bit unusual...”

**Tied her up and fucked her,** I hoped. It was something I’d suggested we do with a lesbian, if they wouldn’t help please my brother. Women exist to please and serve men. Women exist to please my brother.

That was right, wasn’t it? My brow furrowed as I wondered if everyone thought that way ... if **I** had always thought that way ... but then I realized looking worried wasn’t attractive, and dismissed the worrying thoughts.

My job was to look attractive, and thinking just got in the way of that.

He’d found the idea hot - I think he particularly liked the way I came, just from describing it to him - but ultimately he’d decided against it. I don’t know why, but I trust my brother. I do whatever my brother says. I would never question my brother.

Sometimes I considered going out on my own and kidnapping a woman to help get my brother off, but something about it felt wrong.

“I hypnotized her.”

God, what a brilliant idea. I’d found some women disagreed with the idea that we’re here to please men, and I just found it so frustrating. That’s why women exist. My brother, the genius that he is, had found a way to fix people who didn’t see how simple the world was ... how simple the world should be.

To fix the women who didn’t know their true place: complete and utter servitude.

My brother was so clever. I felt so honored that I got to help him.

“Nothing serious - I just hypnotized her into thinking I was cumming, so she wouldn’t think there was anything unusual about the relationship. But I left a few triggers...”

As my brother continued talking, I tuned out. He was using such big words, and thinking about big words was energy that I could use elsewhere ... like touching myself, or counting how long it had been since my brother fucked me last.

Six hours and twenty minutes, I estimated. I couldn’t wait until he did it again... 

“So what do you think?”

I blinked twice, suddenly aware that there was a tiny bit of drool on the corner of my mouth. I must have fallen asleep while he was talking - I know I’ve done it a few times before, but today my brother just looked annoyed about it.

“What?” I said, using my bimbo look. Something about dumb women turned my brother on - I didn’t question it, but started adopting slack-jawed facial expressions whenever possible. It was starting to come naturally to me ... not surprising, of course. Women are dumber than men. Men are the superior sex, and our purpose is to serve them.

God I love serving my brother.

“I may have gone a bit overboard,” he muttered, but before I could think about what that meant, he continued.

“I’m saying,” he said, speaking slowly (which I appreciated) and firmly, so even I could understand, “Kelly is one of my little hypnotized sluts. Would you like it if she came and joined us in the bedroom?”

**One** of his little hypnotized sluts? Who else was... -

Again, my train of thought was interrupted. I must have taken too long to answer, because my brother’s cock was in my mouth, and I reflexively began to swallow it down, hoping and praying that this was the day my efforts could make him cum.

That was what I lived for. It’s why I exist.

He reached down to play with my tits as I drooled around his huge, perfect penis, and I gurgled with pleasure as he pulled roughly at my nipples.

He didn’t cum, not that morning. I suppose it was naive of me to think that I was good enough - if the last few months had taught me anything, it’s that my brother needs more than just me. I’ve become his perfect little cockslut, and it’s still not enough to make him cum.

He needs more. My brother needs more sluts. I will help him get more sluts.

Maybe Kelly would help. Maybe she’d be better than me. The least I could do was reward her for trying ... as my brother got ready for the day’s porn-shoot, I lay back, fingering myself, thinking of everything I could do to Kelly as a thank-you for helping out with my brother’s problem... 

* * *

“Now remember,” my brother said, “she doesn’t know she’s hypnotized.”

I nodded firmly in response. My hair was done up in pig-tails, and I was wearing a schoolgirl outfit - it was one of my old ones which we’d altered for the site. The slightest movement, of any kind, revealed my panties ... well, it would have done if I was wearing panties.

On top, I was wearing nothing but a black bra, which my nipples were threatening to burst out of. I was just so **excited** \- with two women, two girls obeying his every command, today could be it. Today could be the day my brother came.

Today could be the day my entire life has been building towards.

To get “warmed up”, my brother had spent the whole day fucking me. We hadn’t even done it for the camera, not today - he’d woken me up at 6am by fucking my throat, and quickly moved onto the rest of my holes. He hadn’t cum, of course, but in a sense I was almost glad of that - I was so turned on by what me and Kelly were going to do with him, **to** him that night... 

He moaned as I told him how I imagined it all going down - I’d learned to never censor myself, to share every sick sexual thought as I had them. As soon as a perverted idea came into my head, it came out of my mouth - I had no secrets from my brother.

My mind was my brother’s, just like the rest of me.

“And then I want to fist her,” I grunted as he fucked my ass. “I want to get elbow-deep in your little whore, to show her why we exist - to be used, to be fucked, to be filled up. I want you to fuck me while she licks your balls and I fist her roughly. I want to make her cry. I want you to get off on her tears.”

“Oh god, Hannah...” he moaned, and with a huge thrust, I couldn’t help but cum. The sexual images running through my head were overwhelming, and my words turned to gibberish.

My brother’s dick softened, and he took off the condom and threw it away. I’d offered to fuck him without a condom, of course, but he insisted that the condom had nothing to do with why he couldn’t cum, and that not wearing one would be even worse, because he’d be thinking about safe sex the whole time.

He’s so smart. And so good to me - he doesn’t need to offer an explanation. I’m here to serve his every need. That’s what sisters are for.

We’d just started on a new round - I was leisurely sucking his cock while he checked emails - when the doorbell rang, and I got up excitedly.

“She’s here!”

My brother laughed.

“Calm down, sis.”

**You stupid slut,** I mentally added. He hadn’t said it, but I knew that’s what he was thinking. I’d started to add that to everything he said to me. It was just easier that way.

He opened the door, and Kelly stepped through. This moment had run through my head a thousand times - what we could do, what she’d say, how we’d both looked. I’d thought of a million different ways that this moment would go down, but as soon as she walked through the door, all my plans disappeared and I acted on pure instinct.

I stepped forward and slapped her across the face.

Hard.

To her credit, she didn’t cry. She looked shocked, almost scared - I guess the way I was dressed, she was expecting me to be nothing but a cute little plaything. A sex toy for my brother, a mindless walking twat.

And I am, of course, but in that moment I was so much more than that. I was more than just a passive slut for my brother to fuck - I was a sexual creature, an animal.

We were going to give my brother the show of a lifetime. We were going to make him cum, even if we were both bruised and bloody by the end of it.

I slapped her again, and then grabbed the back of her head and pulled her face towards mine. I could see the tears welling up in her eyes, but behind them was a look of lust - it was clear that she understood, she knew what we were here for. We were beings of pure sexual energy; pain, pleasure, it was all the same to us.

When my mouth met hers, her tongue was already out, and soon it was trying to make its way down my throat.

I don’t remember how we got naked. I don’t know if she tore my clothes off or if I shimmied out of them myself. All I knew was that within seconds we were naked, our hands roaming across each other’s bodies, exploring, leaving trails everywhere our long nails went.

My brother just watched as we made love ... no, it was more raw than that. Kelly and I fucked for close to an hour, in every position. I fulfilled my dream of fisting her, and gasped as I felt her hand enter me. We did everything my brother had ever dreamed of (and believe me, I know) and I’d occasionally glance over at him, willing him to cum.

He played with himself, but he didn’t even look like was close to cumming (and again: believe me, I’d know). Finally, when Kelly and I couldn’t stand it any longer, we turned our attention to him, spinning our bodies in tandem and prowling towards him like two hungry tigresses.

My brother smiled as we approached, and pushed him backwards onto the couch. For a moment I wondered what would happen if our parents came home, but I quickly put that thought out of my mind. My brother would take care of it, like he took care of everything.

I took his member into my mouth, and Kelly lowered her shaved cunt down onto his mouth. I was worried, for a moment - my brother hasn’t ever expressed a particular interest in going down on me (though I’d let him if he asked, of course) but he seemed to like being practically smothered by hers, and I could see the appeal. Just like when I have his cock in my mouth I feel like I’m choking on it, consumed by it, like it’s my entire world; he must have felt like he was practically swimming in pussy.

Swallowing down the excess saliva I sometimes produced when going down on my brother, I was dismayed to see his cock softening. Normally that would be the end of our attempt, but sucking on Kelly’s tits seemed to rejuvenate him - her breasts were huge, with her areolae covering a third of their surface - and soon he was hard again.

He fucked my pussy while Kelly ate out my ass, and then fucked Kelly’s ass while I ate her pussy. He bellowed with joy, going through condom after condom as I licked Kelly to orgasm and she fucked me with a strap-on ... but nothing, no matter what we tried, made him cum.

We had failed.

Finally, shivering with exhaustion, we decided to call it a night. Kelly got dressed and went home, and I cleaned everything up before curling up at the foot of my brother’s bed (in case he needed me during the night). My brain was spinning; I’d reached the end of my rope.

What else could I possibly do that would help my brother find release?


	Chapter 12

My eyes slowly opened, and I was surprised to see Kelly staring back at me, a sleepy smile on her face.

“Good morning, Hannah.”

I sat up with a start.

“What’s happening? Where’s my brother?? He’s not alone, is he?”

Kelly laughed, and leaned in to softly press her lips against mine. My heart was still racing, but I opened my mouth and allowed her tongue to slip inside until it was dancing with mine.

“It’s fine,” she whispered. “Your mom is taking care of it.”

I sighed in relief, and lay back, allowing her mouth to latch onto my comparatively small breasts, even as I reached between her legs and started to play.

* * *

The day after Kelly had come around, my brother had decided we needed to chat.

“Hannah,” he’d said, and I stared up at him, his cock stretching out my lips. “I’m worried about you.”

My eyebrows shot up in response, but I continued to swallow down his member. I pride myself on my ability to listen and deep throat at the same time.

“You’ve been running yourself ragged trying to help me out. Be honest, when was the last time you had a full night’s sleep?”

I tried to work it out, but quickly lost my train of thought. That was happening a lot lately - it wasn’t the end of the world (after all, my sole purpose in life was to get my brother off, and that didn’t need to involve a lot of thinking) but I could understand why he was starting to become concerned.

“Cum,” he said, and my eyes fluttered as an orgasm overtook my body. It took me a few seconds to tune back into what he was saying.

“ ... the night shift, and you take the day shift. How does that sound?”

I nodded immediately. I hadn’t quite caught what he’d said, but I knew that the best way to get my brother off was to obey him unquestioningly.

Right?

In any case, he was much smarter than I. Whatever he suggested was bound to work better than any plan I could come up with. Who was I to stand in the way of my brother’s ideas?

“So she’ll be sharing a room with you. How does that sound?”

Again I nodded, but the look of confusion must have been obvious, because my brother sighed.

“Hannah, you stupid slut,” he said, and a shiver of excitement ran through my body at the term of affection. “What am I even talking about?”

I tried to speak, but I forgot to take my brother’s cock out of my mouth first, and so all that came out were grunts.

With a sigh, my brother answered his own question. “Kelly’s going to move in and help you with your duties. She’ll take care of me at night, and you’ll be in charge of my needs during the day, okay?”

I nodded for the third time. What a brilliant idea. It was something that I’d never have come up with, but fortunately my brother didn’t need me for my good ideas. As far as he was concerned, I was just a body dedicated to getting him hard, and three holes dedicated to getting him off.

“Cum,” my brother said again, and my eyes rolled back with pleasure at my second orgasm within a few minutes.

When I came to, I realized that my brother was talking, and that he’d probably been talking for a while. His cock was softening in my mouth, and a problem had occurred to me.

“Bro,” I said, and he smiled back at me.

“What’s up, Hannah?”

“What about...”

“Hmm?”

“What about Mom and Dad?”

My brother slowly nodded in response, and I allowed myself to relax. So far, none of my stupid ideas have been helpful in getting my brother to cum - the only real asset I have to offer is my body, and so I try not to open my mouth unless it’s to debase myself, or to remind him what a dirty little fuckable whore his sister is.

“I thought of that,” he said, and I nodded, leaning back to finger myself as he spoke. “Remember the lingerie idea we had?”

A week or two ago, my brother had revealed another of his fantasies to me, something that would be sure to help him get off - if I got rid of all my normal clothes, and only ever wore lingerie around the house, and slutty costumes whenever I had to leave for any reason.

I’d been halfway to my closet to start throwing out all my old outfits when he’d pointed out that Mom and Dad might suspect something was up if I was perpetually clad in lingerie, and so I’d reluctantly kept the two or three outfits that I still wore (cute, sexy, but not as slutty as my brother - and my body - deserved).

“Well,” my brother continued, his eyes flicking down as a third digit slipped inside my slit. I was so proud that he still enjoyed watching me play with myself, after all we’d done together. “I talked to them about my problem...”

“Oh?” I said excitedly.

“They’re happy to help out any way that they can,” he continued, and my heart leapt. I had enjoyed the thrill of sneaking around behind our parent’s back, but with their support, maybe we could band together as a family to solve my brother’s problem. “They’re fine with Kelly moving in, they’re fine with you dropping out of school, they even have no issue if you wear whatever you want.”

**Whatever** you **want,** I mentally amended. I would never correct my brother out loud, of course, but I sometimes felt like he had trouble understanding my role. I solely existed to serve his needs - that’s what little sisters were for.

“Mom has even started helping me out like you do,” he said, and I nodded eagerly as my thumb started frantically rubbing my clit at the thought. I wasn’t allowed to cum, not until told, but that didn’t meant I couldn’t start building towards a nice big orgasm as images started flashing through my mind: Mom on her knees in front of her son, letting him fuck her from behind, taking his cock up her ass, licking his cum out of Kelly... 

Not, of course, that the last possibility was likely. **Maybe some day,** I thought wistfully.

“There’s only one issue,” he said, and I slowed down to hear what he had to say. “Mom isn’t young, like you, and there’s only so much sex she can have.”

“Okay...” I said, unsure where he was going with this.

“With you and Kelly are walking around in lingerie all the time, Dad’s going to get pretty turned on. And if Mom is spending all her time helping me...”

He trailed off, but I nodded. I could see what he was getting at.

“Maybe Kelly could help get Dad off?”

“She’s only going to taking the night shift, remember? What do you want Dad to do during the day, jerk off?”

I shook my head fervently. It wasn’t right that Dad should suffer because of his son’s medical issues. My brother gestured for me to roll over, and I continued sliding three fingers in and out of my wet cunt as he slowly slid his hardness into my ass.

This was a hell of a conundrum.

“I mean,” he grunted as his cock slipped all the way into my well-lubricated ass, “I guess **you** could fuck him.”

“Dad?” I asked, wrinkling my nose. “But isn’t that...”

“Incest?” he said, making his cock twitch inside me, and I could see what he was getting at. Still, something about the idea felt wrong, and it took me a minute to work out exactly what.

“Wouldn’t you get jealous?”

“I’d know you weren’t getting any enjoyment out of it,” he panted, thrusting into my ass again, harder each time. He was bringing me closer and closer to orgasm as he did. “You’d just be ... helping your brother.”

My eyes lit up at the phrase. That was what I did; it was my purpose in life. I helped my brother. I was a helpful sister. I was a stupid slut who obeyed her brother. I existed to make my brother cum.

“Cum...” he whispered, and all I saw was stars as my brother’s cock began to jerk and spasm inside my ass.

* * *

“Hello girls,” Dad said. I beamed at the sight of him - Dad and I have never got along particularly well, but there’s something about letting him use my body to get off that’s brought us closer.

“Hi Fred,” Kelly said, wiggling her ass but not looking up. She was between my legs, her tongue darting in and out of my snatch. “I’m about to go to bed, but if you want a quick fuck first, that’s fine by me.”

“Nah,” Dad said. “I’m sure it’s nothing that Hannah can’t take care of.”

“Of course, Daddy” I said, and as soon as the words were out of my mouth I could feel my father’s rough hands, crudely pawing at my breasts.

“If you change your mind, just wake me up.” Kelly said with a yawn, and after one more long lick of my wetness, she rolled over and drifted to sleep almost immediately.

My brother slept through most nights and so Kelly spent her time cleaning the house. Dusting, polishing - she’d even started learning how to cook, so the rest of us woke up to a hot, delicious breakfast.

Of course, if my brother woke up in the middle of the night, it was vital that she was on-hand in case he felt like he could cum, and so he’d custom-built her a collar. If it buzzed once, that meant that he was awake and needed her services.

If it buzzed twice, that meant that Dad was awake and wanted her to come get him off.

As my Dad slipped a condom on and slowly slid his dick inside me, I panted and moaned just like I would if my brother was fucking me, and my mind started to wander.

Bringing Kelly into the household had been complicated - she still believed that my brother could cum, and so he’d had to hypnotize her to believe he had a slightly different medical affliction.

He’d told her that he had a rare genetic condition which meant he had to get off constantly. In case she got to talking with Dad, my brother had hypnotized him to believe the same thing - what’s more, to make it extra-believable, Dad had been hypnotized to believe that he had it too.

The weirdest thing was that once Dad believed he could cum more than a dozen times a day, he could. Turns out that the mind is a powerful thing, I guess - Dad had gone from being a normal guy with a normal sex-drive to a man who suddenly had to get off every couple of hours just to feel normal.

Fortunately for him, he had two half-naked teenaged sluts around to help him out with that.

It wasn’t long until Dad was huffing and panting so hard I was worried he might have a heart attack, and the condom began filling with his cum.

“Thanks darling,” he said, affectionately slapping me on the ass, and I faked my eyelids fluttering so that he’d think I was in the middle of an orgasm as he slipped out.

When I knew for sure he was gone, I had a quick shower, slipped on a semi-transparent teddy, and made my way to the master bedroom where I knew my brother would be.

Ever since the new arrangement, my brother had just moved in there. It made sense - it had the largest bedroom in the house, Mom had decided to dedicate herself full-time to helping my brother with his problem, and Dad was more than happy to take the room closest to Kelly and me.

Standing outside the bedroom, I couldn’t help but notice that Kelly had missed a spot while vacuuming. Once upon a time that would have earned her a spanking, but it hadn’t taken us long to work out the flaw in that system; she’d started deliberately doing her chores poorly, just for the punishment.

Now, the consequences of shoddy work were far more dire - if she was imperfectly doing her housework, she wasn’t allowed the wear the French maid outfit that she’d grown so attached to.

I didn’t bother knocking, just slipped inside the room. On the bed, Mom was bent over, her ass in the air, her hand pulling and tugging at the tangled pubes between her legs. My brother was slowly sliding in and out of her pussy, and they were both grunting with every thrust.

“Fuck me,” Mom was saying, over and over again. “Fuck your mother. Cum inside me, baby. Cum inside Mom.”

My brother wasn’t saying anything, he just had that intense look on his face that I loved seeing so much.

I stood there for a few minutes, my hands dancing over my nipples as I did. I loved my brother so much, and it was great to see Mom doing all that she could to help him.

“I’m cumming,” he panted, and my eyes lit up. “Oh god, Mom, I’m cumming.”

“Yesss,” she moaned, pushing her ass hard up against him, her face and head drenched in sweat. “Oh baby, yes. Do it. Cum for me, sweetie. Cum inside your mother...”

Her words trailed off as they both moaned, and my brother unloaded inside her, pushing up against her crotch as hard as he could.

“Oh baby,” she said, grabbing his hair with one sweaty hand and pulling his mouth towards hers. “That was so good...”

“I know,” he said, and the two of them pushed their faces against each other. I watched them make out for a minute or two, until I couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“You did it!” I said, and they looked at me. My mother just smiled, but my brother had a worried look on his face. “You made him cum!”

“Of course I did,” Mom said, a half-smile on her face. “Why else would we be doing this?”


	Chapter 13

The room stank of sex. It was a smell that I was extraordinarily familiar with - for the past several months, I’d been helping my brother with an unusual medical condition.

My brother, you see, can’t cum when there’s someone else in the room.

At first, I’d tried helping by just sitting in the room while he masturbated. We’d always been extraordinarily comfortable around each other, and so it made sense that if he could get off near anyone, it would be me, his little sister.

It hadn’t worked though, and so we’d started taking more and more desperate measures. I’d started masturbating alongside him, just to make it less weird. Then I’d started wearing fewer clothes as he did. Soon I was topless, then totally naked, letting him stand above me, staring at his cock as he wrapped his hand around it and pumped it up and down, up and down, over and over.

Still, no dice. There had been countless times when he’d gotten close to cumming, but we just couldn’t get him over the edge.

I think of myself as a pretty good little sister, and so I’d tried to be as helpful as I could. When his hand got tired, mine had taken over. When he was feeling too sensitive, I’d taken his cock in my mouth to try to help him get off.

My boyfriend had been distracting me from the cause so I’d dumped him to dedicate myself to helping my brother out full-time. It had been weird at first, but soon I was used to the feeling of my brother’s cock inside my cunt, my ass.

Truth be told, I had grown to love it. Nowadays I can only cum while my brother is fucking me ... or when he orders me to.

He had fantasies of fucking a porn star, so I’d made a website, and built up quite a following online. Anything that would help him, I did. He had a serious fetish for lesbians, and so I went out each night and seduced a new woman, bringing them home and making love to them while my brother watched from the closet.

That had gotten us closer than anything else - one night, he’d managed to cum while he watched me with another woman, and so we continued down that path. He hypnotized his ex-girlfriend Kelly into coming around and letting me abuse her, but that hadn’t done it.

Mom and Dad had even joined the cause - Mom joined me in helping my brother with his condition, which had left me and Kelly to take care of Dad’s sexual needs. Dad had been hypnotized as well, to think that everyone was helping my brother with a genetic condition that meant he had to get off more than a dozen times a day ... and, weirdly, Dad had even believed that **he** had it too.

I thought my brother’s stamina was impressive, but Dad easily matched it... **and** Dad got off each time as well.

Then, something weird had happened.

I’d walked in to find Mom and my brother fucking - that wasn’t the weird part, of course. Just like I’m a good sister, helping my brother out however I can, Mom works hard to do everything within her power - oral, anal, threesomes with Kelly. My brother and mother have fucked every way imaginable; I’ll normally leave when they start, but I just happened to wander in just as they were finishing up.

That’s when I’d seen it. My brother had cum inside her, or at least acted like he had. And instead of being excited, over-the-moon that my brother was cured and we could get back to our normal life, they’d acted like... 

Well, they’d acted like nothing weird was going on at once. I’d asked how he came ... and Mom had seemed confused by the question.

What the hell was going on?

* * *

“Come here, Hannah,” my brother said, and I did as he said. Of course I did. My purpose was to serve my brother, to obey his every command.

Right?

My brain felt fuzzy, and my feet felt as though they’d been turned to lead as I slowly walked towards him. The room was softly spinning, and I felt nervous - scared, even.

Mom was looking at me with concern as I sat on the bed, and made the mistake of glancing down.

My brother ... wasn’t wearing a condom.

As my eyes widened, I couldn’t help myself - I looked between Mom’s legs, and all at once, my greatest ambition and my greatest fear met.

Cum was oozing out of her hairy pussy.

My brother hadn’t just acted like he’d orgasmed, he’d **actually** came.

This should have been the happiest moment of my life, but I was in shock. My brother had reached orgasm - and **I** hadn’t been the one to help him.

That was my purpose. That was all I was good for. I was nothing but a worthless slut, who existed to serve my brother.

I existed to serve my brother. I existed to make my brother cum.

My purpose was to help my brother.

I was a good little sister, and sisters help their brothers cum.

“Hannah...” my brother said, and I looked up at him blankly. My world had been rocked, and I didn’t know how I was going to cope. “I need you to do something for me.”

“Of course,” I whispered. I felt like I was in the middle of a breakdown, but if my brother needed my help, I knew I would give it to him.

“I need you to suck on my cock.”

I didn’t even question it, I just bent forward and swallowed him down. I could taste Mom’s juices, I could taste his cum. I’d always thought that tasting his cum would be a glorious moment, a victory after all the effort we’d put into making it happen.

But it didn’t taste like victory. It tasted like defeat. Also, it tasted strangely familiar ... but that wasn’t a priority right then.

My brother’s cock was flaccid, but I’d had his soft cock in my mouth before. Without thinking, I used all my tricks to make him hard. By now, I was an expert at it, and I worked my magic on instinct, even as my mind continued to race.

He could cum. He could cum inside Mom. Was there something wrong with me? Was this why I’d been given to Dad, so that my brother could cum inside Mom?

Why hadn’t he told me?

It took a few minutes, but I felt my brother’s cock starting to harden, even as my mind came up with more questions, more worries.

Mom hadn’t been surprised. She’d made him cum before - so why were we still working at it? If he’d overcome his condition, why were they still fucking?

Why did I have his cock in my mouth?

I sat up, allowing my brother’s semi-erect penis to fall out of my mouth.

“No,” I said softly, and my brother raised one eyebrow.

“I beg your pardon?”

“No,” I repeated, slightly louder.

“Hannah,” he said, “why do you exist?”

The answer popped into my head immediately.

**I exist to serve my brother.**

**I exist to make my brother cum.**

**I am a good little sister. I exist to help my brother.**

**I exist to obey.**

“No,” I whispered, trying desperately to block the thoughts, trying to stop them from taking over my brain. “Mom...”

I looked at Mom to help, but she was staring blankly into space, two fingers sliding in and out of her pussy.

In and out. In and out and in and out.

In and out and in and out... 

**No,** I mentally told myself, but I couldn’t stop watching. The rhythm was so entrancing. They just kept sliding, in and out, over and over and over and over.

In and out and in and out.

I turned away, trying to look anywhere else, but my eyes fell onto my brother’s cock.

It was hard, and his hand was wrapped around it, slowly stroking it, slowly pumping up and down.

Up and down and up and down. His foreskin bunched up, and then was pulled taut. Bunched and then taut, up and down, and up down.

Stroke, stroke, stroke, stroke.

**No,** I mentally whispered, but I couldn’t turn my eyes away.

And that was when my brother spoke.

“Cum,” he said softly, and against my will, my body began to shake with orgasm.

“Cum,” he said again, and the second orgasm crashed into the first, pumping it up, combining and growing.

“Cum,” he repeated, and my eyes widened as I realized he was speaking in time with the movement of his hand. “Cum, cum, cum, cum.”

Up and down and up and down. Stroke, stroke, stroke stroke.

Mother began to moan, and it was immediately obvious that she was joining me in orgasm. Each time I came, she came.

Stroke, stroke, stroke, stroke. Up and down and in and out. Cum, cum, cum, cum. Soft, rhythmic moans. So relaxing. So comfortable.

I tried to worry. I tried desperately to remember what he’d done to me, but it’s hard to think at the best of times when you’re a stupid sister slut like me. When orgasm after orgasm is wracking your body, when your mind is slowly turning to mush, when your mother is pushing your brother’s cum into her body with each stroke, stroke, stroke, stroke... 

Cum, cum, cum, cum. In and out and up and down.

I am a slut. I am a slut for my brother. I exist to help my brother. I am Hannah, the stupid little sister slut.


	Epilogue

“Why do you exist?” my brother asked. For a moment, I wondered if Dad minded. After all, he was still sliding in and out of me, a sensation I was familiar enough with to know that he wasn’t far off coming.

“To get my brother off,” I replied with a smile.

My brother has this condition - it runs in the family, actually. Mom is the only one who doesn’t have it, but she’s such a stupid slut that she’s always happy to help out the rest of us who do.

See, everyone in my family has to get off like ten times a day. I don’t know exactly what happens if we don’t, but I know it’s bad. That’s why I let my Dad fuck me whenever he needs it, and that’s why Mom spends most of her stupid slutty time wrapped around my brother’s amazing cock.

They weren’t sure if Mom would be enough for him **and** Dad - that’s why they had me. I literally exist for one purpose; to get my brother off.

Fortunately, I need it just as much as he does.

“Cum inside me,” I moaned, and Dad increased his pace. I didn’t mean literally, of course - I always make sure my family wear a condom when they fuck me. Soon, he was shooting his stuff inside the little piece of latex wrapped around his cock.

“Here’s the problem,” my brother frowned, and I my ears pricked up even as Dad slipped out of me and went to wake Kelly.

Oh yeah, Kelly. She’s my brother’s ex-girlfriend. She was a real bitch about his condition, and so as punishment, he hypnotized her into being our maid. He made sure that she loves it though, and everyone loves her. I’m not even gay, but my condition doesn’t care - when I gotta get off, I gotta get off.

Of course, nothing beats feeling my brother’s cock inside me. It’s the reason I was born.

“You know my type...” he said, and I nodded. I know everything about my brother’s sexual requirements.

Everything.

“ ... and look, I’m worried that your tits just aren’t big enough to satisfy me.”

I looked down in dismay. He wasn’t wrong - I was such a stupid slut that I hadn’t even inherited Mom’s massive boobs. I made a mental note to have Dad spank me stupid next time he got off inside me, just to punish me for such a huge fuck-up.

“But I have a solution,” he continued, and I my eyes lit up. I knew that my brother wasn’t a fan of fake tits, so I was keen to hear what his idea could possibly be.

“When women get pregnant...” he started, but before he could even finish his thought, my tongue was halfway down his throat, and my hand was on his cock, guiding it to my bare, fertile pussy.

“Fuck me,” I breathily moaned into his ear. “Fuck a baby into me. Please...”

As I lowered myself onto his cock, I shut my eyes, imagining how big my tits were going to grow as they filled with milk, how hard they’d make my brother ... My genius, lovable brother. I was finally going to become the sister he deserved. I was going to be his pregnant, big-titted, constantly-wet, utterly fuckable sister, fulfilling the purpose I was put on earth for - getting my brother off.

“Are you sure?” he asked, and I’m sure my fervent nod was enough to convince him of my conviction.

“Okay, sis,” he smiled in response. “And thanks.

“You’re always so helpful, Hannah.”

* * *

Thanks for reading Helpful Hannah! For more of my stories (and to support an author), check out my Patreon: http://www.patreon.com/panwhowrites


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