﻿My Brother Would Be Better

by Pan



Genre: Incest
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-27 17:40:49
Updated: 2020-02-05 19:15:36
Packaged: 2024-02-16 20:09:35
Rating: Much Sex
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,741
Publisher: storiesonline.net
Story URL: https://storiesonline.net/s/21727/my-brother-would-be
Author URL: https://storiesonline.net/a/pan
Summary: As Olivia sluts her way around the small town where she lives, she can't help comparing every guy to her brother.





TABLE OF CONTENTS


Chapter 1

Chapter 2



	Chapter 1

As Eric’s cock slid between her lips, Olivia made sure that her lips were protecting her teeth, and that her tongue was flattened. She wanted to ensure that her mouth was a warm, wet hole for him to fuck.

She’d recently discovered how much she loved giving head. She’d gone down on men before, but she’d never **loved** it ... over the last few weeks, however, she’d spent much of her time craving a cock in her mouth. It hadn’t become a total obsession, per se, but it was a sad day when she couldn’t find someone to go down on.

Even as she sighed with pleasure, loving the feeling of his smoothness on her tongue, the fullness in her mouth, even the smell of his musk as inch after inch, he slipped deep into her throat, a thought popped into her head.

**Eric has a nice enough cock...** **... but my brother’s would be better.** After college, Olivia had quickly learned two things: firstly, that even the sciences hadn’t been immune to the financial situation. Jobs were scarce, no matter how specialized your field. Secondly, that the competition was fierce. The edge that she’d hoped that she would gain from being a woman in STEM hadn’t been nearly enough to guarantee her work, and after a few months, she’d finally agreed to accept a low-paying internship at the company her brother worked at.

He worked in a completely different field to her - long-term effects of various wave emitters on the brain, whereas she was trained in human biochemical responses to externally administrated stimuli - but she was smart, and had soon picked up enough of her brother’s work to be useful.

Over the past few months, the siblings had only rarely been in contact - her brother mostly programmed the various machines, whereas she was interning with the team who worked with the equipment hands-on. Every time they ran into each other, he looked surprised to see her there, as if he’d forgotten how hard he’d worked to get her to come and join him.

She’d had very little contact with almost everyone except the people she worked with, in fact. Even though she was just interning, the hours were long and she buckled down with the best of them, wanting to ensure that no one thought she was coasting on her connection to her brother.

Olivia certainly hadn’t had time to meet men, which was perhaps why she’d begun to get more and more horny of late ... she’d briefly toyed with online dating sites, but she didn’t have time to organize dates. Finally, deciding that she couldn’t deny her basic human urges any more, she had gone out to a bar with the intent of having - for the first time in her life - a one night stand.

She’d quickly found a willing man, and after half an hour of laughing and flirting, had even slightly shocked herself by pulling him into the bathroom stall, taking down his pants, and blowing him then and there.

To her surprise, she’d gotten off on just the act of going down on him. Though he’d asked her to come home with her, she’d declined. The next day was an early start, and so Olivia went home and - for the first time in a few weeks - got a full night’s sleep, without having to get herself off first.

After that, it had become a routine - several times a week, she’d go to a local bar, and the first man to strike up a conversation would soon be the recipient of Olivia’s steadily-improving oral sex skills. When she didn’t have the energy to leave the house, she’d often find herself loading up RedTube and get herself off while watching porn stars (or amateurs) performing fellatio.

Eric had told her that he was an accountant or an actuary or something like that, but she hadn’t been listening, just nodding along and wondering when would be too soon to drag him to the bathroom. She’d waited ten minutes, to ensure that she didn’t come across as slutty, but when she’d finally let him begin pumping in and out of her mouth, the strange thought repeated: **My brother would be better.** Olivia had never even considered incest before, and she certainly wasn’t at all attracted to her brother, it just struck her as a simple truth. If she had to have her throat used for men to get off inside - and she was quickly accepting that she did - her brother would be far better at it than this man she’d met less than twenty minutes ago.

She tried not to think of it as her hand reached between her leg and stroked her clit, but a few minutes later, when Eric unloaded into her mouth, the thought returned.

**My brother would be better.** He’d taste better. Smoother. Easier to swallow.

She thanked Eric for his time, quickly went home, and had a night of dreamless sleep as she tried to push the strange thought out of her mind.

* * *

For the next week, Olivia spent every day on her feet. The new emitter modules needed constant recalibration, at least until the programs were finalized, and as the intern it was her job to ensure that nothing was overheating or behaving unusually. She was invariably exhausted when she got home, and would fall straight into bed most nights.

It was almost nine days before she mustered up the energy to go out again. She hit up one of her favorite dive bars, and was standing there for less than a minute before a stranger came over and started chatting her up.

It didn’t take long for her to convince him to join her in the bathroom, and as she unzipped his pants, she was unsurprised to find herself immediately comparing his cock to the hypothetical one she imagined her brother possessed ... and finding that he came up short.

**My brother would be better,** she told herself as his head slipped past her lips. She was sure he would taste better than this.

She went through the routine of getting him off with her mouth, but even as he came deep into her throat, for the first time since she’d started meeting men and immediately blowing them, she didn’t get off.

She wasn’t even remotely satisfied.

Olivia wasn’t sure what had changed, but the persistent niggle that the man’s cock was inferior to her sibling’s never left her, and so when he offered to give her a ride home, she accepted where she’d normally refuse.

Still horny, she invited the stranger inside - she couldn’t even remember his name, but as he stripped her, crudely pawing at her breasts and finally inserting his hardness into her wet pussy, she was finally able to dismiss the stray thoughts, and truly enjoy the pleasure of being fucked by a man she didn’t know.

Olivia came around the man’s cock, over and over again, and almost as soon as he came, collapsed, exhausted, into a dreamless slumber.

When she awoke, the stranger was gone, but there was a spring in Olivia’s step that hadn’t been there for some weeks. Even her co-workers asked what had caused her sudden jauntiness, but instead of answering, she just grinned in response to their queries.

 **One night stands, hey?** she mused silently. **Who knew how good they could make you feel?** That night, Olivia found the energy to go out again; the company was in a town large enough that she could go out regularly without running into the same faces again and again, but a slight thrill ran through her body at the idea that someone **might** recognize her.

**I’m becoming a bit of a slut,** she realized, and the thought was enough to make her smile. She’d never been a **slut** before; she’d always been so responsible, so good. But over the last few months, she’d given head to at least a dozen different guys, and gone home with one of them.

What if someone recognized her?

How naughty.

She was attractive enough to pick up easily, and before long she was skipping the blowjob and bringing him straight back to her place.

Again, she found herself cumming and cumming, milking the stranger’s cock for all that it was worth. And again, she immediately fell asleep.

Despite only getting a few hours of sleep, Olivia was delighted to again find herself full of energy the next day.

**This is great,** she told herself, and vowed to keep on sleeping around until she ran out of men to bring home.

Every night for the next two weeks, Olivia picked up another stranger, brought him home, and rode him for as long as she could. A year ago, she would have been terrified of accidentally hooking up with someone somehow linked to a co-worker; now, the idea was strangely thrilling to her.

It was on the fifteenth consecutive night that she’d brought someone home that the strange thoughts returned. This time, it was in the cab on the way home, as they were making out.

**My brother would be better.** Olivia was a scientist, and so she was determined to get to the bottom of these unusual ideas that kept popping into her head. Why would she think her brother was a better kisser? It wasn’t as though he’d been particularly popular in high-school; she couldn’t even remember him ever having a girlfriend.

His new job didn’t have any kind of strange kissing requirement, and she certainly hadn’t heard any rumors on the subject.

That only left one possible source for the strange thought - the man she was currently kissing mustn’t have been any good at it.

If he was a lousy kisser, then yes - her brother probably **was** better. That was basic probability. It was a pity; she’d been quite enjoying kissing him until the thought hit her.

Still, it was the only solution that made sense. Olivia pulled back from the kiss, instead letting the stranger (she hadn’t caught his name) finger her for the remainder of the cab ride.

The next night, as she was making out with the visiting Texan she had picked up, Olivia had the same thought. **My brother would be better.** To her disappointment, the thought returned as she was gyrating on top of him, moving her hips back and forth to let his cock fill her up.

**My brother would be better.** Damn it. She’d been so close, before realizing that he was statistically below-average at sex. Her building orgasm faded, and she booted the cowboy from her house.

Olivia barely slept that night.

* * *

For the next month, every time she touched a man at the bar, Olivia had the same thought.

**My brother would be better**.

There was no point in taking them home - they would just leave her horny and dissatisfied.

Where Olivia had previously been picking up the first man each night who seemed interested, her standards were now getting higher and higher. Frustratingly, she couldn’t even pin down quite what these standards **were** \- all she knew was that it didn’t take more than a few seconds for most men to fall short of her brother.

If she stayed at the bar long enough, she’d eventually find someone. Not her normal type; she typically went for burly men, but the only ones who she found herself deeming acceptable were thin blonds, often wearing glasses.

They looked quite a lot like her brother, strangely enough.

She’d take them home and fuck them, often falling into a dreamless sleep afterwards. Sometimes she’d realize that aspects of them weren’t as good as her brother - **My brother would be better** , she’d sometimes realize, while slipping their cock inside her. **My brother would be better** , she’d think as they playfully slapped her around - she’d developed quite a penchant for rough sex, as of late.

But most nights, she’d find someone who would fuck her to sleep, and she’d go into work the next morning full of pep and vigor.

As time went on, however, it got harder. More and more, she’d be at the bars until the last call, when she’d have to go home unfulfilled. The next day at work would be hellish - staying out late AND not sleeping properly gave her a heightened awareness of the hum of the servers. They almost **throbbed** , filling her with an intense, frustrating feeling.

Finally, after months of going out and trying to get laid, she was too exhausted to muster up the energy. For the first time in a long time, she decided to stay home, and take care of her needs herself.

With one hand between her legs, she closed her eyes and imagined one of the men who’d last brought her pleasure. A weedy man, with neatly-cut blond hair, he’d had glasses, and hands that knew what they were doing. He’d reached up her top, and expertly... - **My brother would be better.** He’d been very good, of course, but it was obvious now that her brother would have done a better job. Still, when he’d lowered his pants and shown her... - **My brother would be better.** The man’s cock had been nice, thick and hard for her ... but of course, it didn’t compare to the cock that she assumed her brother was carrying around all day.

She shifted her focus to the way that he’d known just how to treat her in bed - pulling her hair, choking her, calling her... - **My brother would be better.** His vocabulary **had** been a bit lacking. Her brother was so educated - she was sure that he’d be much better in bed. He’d call her all the names she liked to be call, throw her down on the bed, pull out his magnificent cock, and ... Olivia was surprised to find herself cumming around her own hand. Thinking about her brother, at that! Before she could reflect too deeply on the line she’d just crossed, her eyelids fluttered shut, and she fell into a deep, dreamless slumber.


	Chapter 2

For the rest of the week, Olivia refused to get off.

These thoughts were starting to get out of hand. When she’d been comparing the strange men she was hooking up with to her brother ... well, she’d just been using him as a baseline. She may as well have been comparing the man to a randomly-selected New Zealander, or co-worker.

But what had happened when she’d played with herself ... It made her uncomfortable.

And so for the next few days, Olivia tried very hard not to think about sex. It wasn’t easy; going from picking up every night to not letting it be on her mind at all was quite a jump, but she managed. She tried not to think about it as she scurried between the large, humming machines that surrounded her all day.

Despite the fact that sex wasn’t on her mind, however, she continued to compare people to her brother.

One of her bosses opened the door for her on the way into work one morning.

**My brother would be better,** she thought, even as she thanked them. Not that there was anything wrong with the way the door had been opened, per se. She just knew; her brother would have been more polite. Faster.

Better.

**He’s always been very polite,** Olivia reflected, and then didn’t give it another thought.

The next day, she was given a fistful of coins by a cashier.

**My brother would be better,** she reminded herself. He was, after all, a whiz at math. He would have counted it up much quicker, and probably dropped it in her hand more accurately.

That night, she was honked at by a random driver.

**My brother would be better.** She’d only driven with him a handful of times, and only seen him use the horn once, but he’d been... **better** at it.

Somehow.

When the weekend arrived, Olivia’s refusal to get off was starting to get to her. She was more aroused than she’d been in a long while, and couldn’t stop comparing almost everyone she met to her brother.

**My brother would be better,** she thought, as she turned on the TV to someone reading the news. She wasn’t quite sure how - the journalist was clearly an accomplished public speaker, whereas her brother had never been particularly confident. The anchor was well-dressed, suave, handsome ... Yet Olivia **knew** that her brother outclassed him in almost every way.

**My brother would be better,** she realized, as she passed a mall Santa. Her brother was younger, thinner, and didn’t have a beard ... but she knew he’d be better, nonetheless.

**My brother would be better,** she observed, as she looked at the logo on her new headphones. The logo was a pirate sporting a big blue beard. Her brother would ... he would be a better logo, somehow.

This, she knew.

She considered going out, meeting someone, but she decided against it.

No matter who she met, she knew they’d fall short.

**My brother would be better.** And so, after a day of reading (and concluding that her brother would be better than the model on the cover, the author, and every single character within the book) she decided to cease her self-imposed masturbation break, and try to relieve the tension that had been building inside her all week.

As soon as her hand reached between her legs, however, the thought was back.

**My brother would be better.** She stopped, rolled over, sighed, and tried to work out what the thought even **meant**.

Her brother would be better at ... touching her?

The more Olivia thought about it, the more she realized it was true.

After all: she was straight. He was a man. Ignoring the fact that he was her brother, Olivia would always rather be touched by someone else. Given the choice between masturbation and having someone else get her off, she’d take the other person every time.

He was a man, roughly her age. He was fairly attractive (again, ignoring that they were related) and probably had some sexual experience. Quite a lot, perhaps.

Her brother **would** be better.

Olivia rolled onto her back once more, and reached between her legs.

**My brother would be better.** Yes, but that didn’t matter. He wasn’t there - she was.

She licked her fingers, and moved them to her clit.

**My brother would be better.** He would probably play her clit like an instrument, instead of the clumsy rubbing Olivia partook in when she just wanted to get off.

Her other hand reached up and grabbed her nipple.

**My brother would be better.** If nothing else, he’d be able to use his mouth. Olivia loved having her nipples bitten. Sucked.

She pinched her nipple, harder.

**My brother would be better.** Her new penchant for rough play just highlighted what masturbation wasn’t able to provide.

If her brother had been there, he would have been able to slap her, to blindfold her.

To surprise her.

Just like it’s impossible to tickle yourself, you can’t really dominate yourself in the bedroom.

But her brother would be able to.

He’d be **better**.

After forty-five minutes of attempted masturbation, Olivia finally gave up.

The more she played with herself, the more her hands roamed around her body and got her all worked up, the more inadequate she felt.

Yes, she could have gotten herself off ... but it would have been a clumsy attempt, compared to what her brother would have been capable of.

**My brother would be better.**

* * *

“How can I help you?” the manager asked as Olivia walked through the door.

**My brother would be better,** she thought. He’d had a job in retail for a few months during high-school.

Yes, he’d been fired ... but he was a smart guy. He’d probably used that as a wake-up call to improve. By now, he probably would have vastly surpassed this manager’s customer service skills, solid as they were.

“Hi,” Olivia replied, slightly flustered. She’d never been to a sex store before.

“Let me know if you need a hand,” the manager replied.

**My brother would be better.** He was ... intuitive. He would have **known** whether she needed help, without forcing her to ask.

“Actually, yeah,” Olivia murmured. “I’m after...”

**My brother would be better,** she thought, as the manager waited patiently for her to finish her thought.

Her brother wouldn’t have stammered over the request as she had, or waited silently, like the manager was. He would have finished this conversation already, and probably been driving home by now.

“ ... uh, a toy.”

“Of course,” the manager smiled. “A vibrator, perhaps?”

**My brother would be better,** Olivia thought, but she wasn’t quite sure why she felt that way.

After all, that was how she’d decided to go with a sex toy - because they had capabilities her brother didn’t. He couldn’t pleasure her like a vibrating machine, specifically designed to get women off.

Not that he’d ever try, of course.

“Yes,” she said, blushing furiously. “Please.”

When she’d gotten home, Olivia sat down with a smile and opened the box.

Five speeds - her brother didn’t have **that** \- and the ability to download patterns.

Perfect.

As she waited for the device to charge, Olivia paced up and down her apartment.

**My brother would be better.** He paced with the best of them. And he would have thought to buy one that came charged, or could be plugged in. And he wouldn’t have **needed** a vibrator in the first place. He’d be able to get himself off without needing help.

Olivia blinked twice. Where had **that** thought come from?

**My brother would be better.** He wouldn’t be having weird sexual thoughts about his family.

Finally, the light blinked, and Olivia disrobed. She briefly admired her naked form in the mirror - **My brother would be better.** As a straight guy, he’d have been admiring women’s bodies for decades - before laying down on the bed and turning the vibrator on.

As soon as Olivia’s new toy make contact with her clit, she moaned with pleasure.

She was so wet. So horny. So close ... The toy buzzed against her aching button, when she realized something.

**My brother would be better.** The young woman wanted to throw her toy across the room in frustration.

Of course her brother wouldn’t be better **than** the vibrator ... but he’d know how to **use** the vibrator better than she ever could.

He’d always been a technophile, getting his hands on the latest gadgets all through their childhood, pulling them apart to see how they worked.

He hadn’t always been able to rebuild them, but as he grew older, he got better and better at taking advantage of features no one else knew about.

Within a few minutes of getting his hands on her new toy, he’d probably have mastered it, bringing her to orgasm after orgasm without even breaking a sweat.

Her eyes rolled back in her head with pleasure just at the idea.

God she wanted to cum ... For the rest of the evening, Olivia continued to try to get off. She used her hands, the toy - she even briefly watched some porn, but it was just so obvious - her brother would so much better than every performer, better than the cameraman, the director, the writer ... Not that being a better porn writer would be much of a challenge.

She even managed to get close, once or twice, but as soon as she felt her orgasm approaching, her own inadequacy overcame her, and she had to stop.

It only served the purpose of getting her more and more worked up, and by the time she was ready for bed, Olivia was practically thrumming with desire.

She needed to get off. She **needed** it.

But she couldn’t. Not by herself. She wasn’t good enough.

Her brother would be better.

* * *

“Olivia!”

Her brother looked surprised to see her, as if he’d forgotten that she worked at the same company as he did.

She squeezed into his office, closing the door behind him.

“Nice digs,” she joked.

**My brother would be better.** **Don’t joke,** she reminded herself. **You’re not as funny as your brother is.**

“Thanks,” he said, looking around the tiny room. “Yeah, I’m hoping to get a bigger office once ... once I get my project working.”

“You’ll do it,” she said confidently. “You deserve it.”

“Thanks,” he said again. “What can I do for you?”

**My brother would be better,** she thought, wanting to slap herself. She’d made **him** ask **her** why she came - he would never have done that. He would have stated exactly what he was after, rather than making the other person do all the work.

“Olivia?” he said.

**My brother would be-...**

“Did you want to ask me for something?” he offered helpfully, before her train of thought could be derailed once more.

“Yeah,” she replied, not wanting to make eye-contact. “Are you free tonight?”

“I can be,” he said casually. “What’s up?”

“I need a favor,” she asked. **My brother would be better.**

“Of course,” her brother responded. “How about I come around to yours after work?”

“Thanks,” she said shyly. **My brother would be better.**

“Great,” he said, standing up and shaking her hand. “See you then.”

“Thanks,” she repeated.

**My brother would be better.**

* * *

Olivia left work almost two hours early, claiming a sore throat.

Her supervisor was happy to let her go - she hadn’t had a particularly productive day. She was stumbling over her words, unable to focus on her tasks.

**My brother would be better. My brother would be better. My brother would be better.**

“Feel better tomorrow,” he said, and she just nodded and fled the building.

**My brother would be better.** She wanted to clean her entire apartment. Obviously she could never get it up to the perfect standard her brother would have achieved, but she could try.

Two hours later, Olivia wanted to cry. Everything was spotless; she’d vacuumed the carpets, mopped the floors ... she’d even popped down to the florist to get some plants, to spruce up the apartment... **My brother would be better.** ... but it wasn’t good enough.

None of it was good enough.

**She** wasn’t good enough.

But she was at the end of her rope, and didn’t know what else should could possibly do.

**My brother would be better.** He would have had a better plan.

He wouldn’t have gotten himself into this situation in the first place.

At exactly six, her brother knocked once on the door. Olivia opened it before he could knock a second time.

He looked surprised.

**Too eager,** Olivia silently berated herself. **My brother would be better.**

“Hey,” he said. “Can I come in?”

“Yes!” she squeaked. “Of course. Please. Please come in.”

As he did, he shot her a sideways glance.

**My brother would be better.**

“What do you need help with, sis?”

Unable to help herself, Olivia dropped to her knees.

“Please,” she said desperately. “Please ... I need you.”

“Oh?” he said, his face neutral. “What can I do for you?”

**My brother would be better.**

“I need...”

**My brother would be better.**

“God, please...”

**My brother would be better.**

“I need you to help me get off,” she whispered, ashamed.

**My brother would be better.** A slow grin spread across her brother’s face.

“Is that all?” he asked casually.

Olivia stared back at him. He didn’t seem surprised.

**My brother would be better.**

“No,” she confessed, after moment’s pause. “I also thought...”

**My brother would be better.** **My brother would be better.** **My brother would be better.** Her brother patted her on the shoulder.

“There there,” he said. “How about from now on, I do all the thinking for both of us?”

“Yes,” Olivia whispered, a tear rolling past the smile on her face. “Please. That ... that would be better.”

* * *

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