So she held off, and held off, while the itch, and the urge to scratch that itch, built and built, until finally she couldn’t stand it any longer. Almost reluctantly, she slipped her fingers into her panties, to rub at her sopping wet, shaven snatch, and almost fainted as her palm rubbed lightly over her engorged clitoris, jags of pleasure shooting through her at the sensation.
Izzy knew she was close; watching hot porn of yourself (well, almost…) being pounded can do that, and it just took a few well-chosen strokes of her fingers over her wet and slippery pussy for orgasm to slam into her, making her clench her teeth and whine softly with the effort of not screaming at the power of her release.
She slumped back in the chair, her body trembling, mewing through her clenched teeth, while her heart pounded with the aftermath of her amazing orgasm; she’d never come like that before, but then she’d never had a visual like that before, with the knowledge ringing around in her mind that possibly, maybe, Oh please God make it so, Ollie could be tempted by her, and if she played it right, she could maybe have him too. Her eyes closed as a sweet, blissful daydream of Ollie taking her and making her his danced and scurried around in her mind, and then she was shocked back to reality.
“That sounded like a good one; was it fun, Izzy?” came a voice, and Izzy spun around in horror, to look into the face of her older brother, who grinned at the sight of her minuscule panties pulled down her thighs, and her bare, pink little pussy glistening wetly in the light from the desk lamp.
Ollie leered at her, his smile of happy lechery stretching almost from ear to ear.
“This is a first for me, Iz; my hottie-totty sister stuffin’ her muffin in my bedroom! You put on quite a show, popsy; fancy getting them off and going for Round Two?”
With that he grabbed his crotch suggestively and gave a squeeze and jiggle, a la Michael Jackson, with a lascivious wink thrown-in for good measure.
That jarred Izzy back to life in a hurry; all she could think of was that the best defence was a good offence; this was not how it should be, and fright, embarrassment, and annoyance that her pleasant fantasy had been so jarringly shocked out of her put her hackles up.
“Get lost, you fucking goblin; if you ever fuck me it’s because I’m dead and can’t stop you!” she retorted, shame at her Ollie seeing her like that making her retort hotter and angrier than she’d meant to be, while pulling her meagre little panties back up and wriggling them into place, something she couldn’t help noticing made that distinct bulge in the front of his jeans twitch. Ollie saw the direction of her gaze, and smiled knowingly, then closed his eyes and sniffed theatrically.
“Yum, love that smell, sis; any idea what it is?” he taunted, strolling towards her. Izzy ignored him, and instead pushed herself away from the desk, the chair rolling several feet, but Ollie didn’t take any notice; rather, he clicked on ‘Sleep’ mode and waited for the screen to cycle off before turning to her.
She shrank back into the seat as he leaned down and rested his hands on the armrests so he could look into her eyes.
“So tell, me, Izzy; why are you in my room, nosing about in my computer, and wanking in my chair? You have a really nice laptop in your room. Why aren’t you wanking in there? And don’t bother to deny it; I’m surprised you don’t wake Mum up, the way you go at it!”
Izzy just glared at him, her original reason for coming in here forgotten, wiped away by that lecherous smirk on his face; how she longed to wipe it off him! Of course, the part of her that was watching and listening couldn’t help but watch his dreamy eyes, his sexy cheekbones, the way his hair, with his habitual buzz-cut growing out, formed a perfect wave on his smooth, classical forehead, or the way his soft, mobile, kissable lips moved as he talked, and his white, even teeth flashed; for one mad instant she had the urge to grab him and jam her lips against his, no matter how mortified and angry she was, but she shoved it back down; something told her that, right here and now, it might be a very bad idea indeed.
For a couple of seconds Ollie seemed to catch the turmoil inside her, his brow knitted in puzzlement as he saw something that gave him pause, but then he straightened-up and sauntered away, his hands in his pockets, obviously enjoying every second of his power over her.
“So what shall we do with you, naughty little Izzy-Wizzy, what shall we do, eh? We could just forget all about this…” Izzy’s heart leaped, then sank as she realised he was just toying with her, playing ‘cat-and-mouse’ with her emotions.
“Or, you could pay me a forfeit for intruding into my personal life; personally, I’m in favour of you paying a forfeit; now, let me see, what shall it be, hmmm?” he mused, a phony frown of contemplation on his face.
Izzy thought she knew exactly where he was going with this, and after a few seconds of silence, she couldn’t stand it any longer.
“I know where this is going, don’t you even think about it! You try anything on me, and I swear to God, I will come in here one night and jam a corkscrew up your cock, do you hear me?” she hissed, anger and humiliation again warring for dominance in her, but there was something else, something that puzzled Ollie.
Usually, in his squabbles with Izzy, she verbally out-pointed him every time, but now… now something had changed, and he could tell her heart wasn’t really in it; she was mad, mostly because of the embarrassment that went with being caught ‘in flagrante’ but she wasn’t in a steaming fury, and he wondered why.
Ollie clapped his hands together with a sound like a gunshot in the confined space, and his face split into a wide, genuine grin, his grey eyes flashing with mirth.
“That’s my girl, well done, Iz! For a second there, I really thought you were just going to hand it over! Did you really think I was going to blackmail you into bed? God, what must you think of me? Just remember one thing, and paste it into that pointy little pin-head skull and behind low forehead of yours; not all us guys are like those pox-jockeys you call boyfriends!”
Izzy’s eyes flashed with anger as she leapt to her feet.
“You mean you … you did all… you let me think… you fucking… I hate you!”
But she didn’t…
Ollie grinned at her outburst, infuriating her even more.
“Siddown, you skanky tart!” he grinned, just to watch the outraged expression on her face, reflecting that she most definitely wasn’t a skank, not with a body and face like that.
Being totally objective and honest with himself, he had to admit, his kid sister was a serious babe. Izzy was almost angelically pretty, and sexy, very sexy indeed, a true hottie; she could do so much better than those brain-dead fuckwit losers she seemed so attracted to. He waited while she stalked around the room, fuming at him for really scaring her, calling him increasingly unlikely names all the while.
Ollie was always fascinated, with a tinge of casual arousal, at how much like their mother Izzy looked: the same huge, warm chocolate-brown eyes, the same light, tawny-brown hair sprinkled with golden highlights, the same high, arching eyebrows and sweet, rosebud-pink lips with the smile quirks at the corners, the same delicate nose with that adorable little tilt at the end, and the same pale, translucent skin. They even shared the same svelte, willowy figure, with the same delicious, round, biteable bottoms.
Except for Carol’s tits, he conceded; in the boobage stakes, Carol’s splendid knockers had Izzy beaten hollow; Izzy may have had a cute pair of cuddly puppies, but their mother was blessed with a delicious pair of wolfhound snouts; to Ollie, they looked like two Zeppelins coming in for a photo-finish…
Other than that, they looked like big sister and little sister, in other words, prime totty, and hugely fuckable. That was just one of the reasons why both of them cavorted so nakedly through his innermost fantasies; given the opportunity, Ollie knew he’d fuck his sister; he wanted her so badly it was a major effort just keeping his hands off her. God alone knew what kind of shit-storm would rain down on him if he even made a move, but he just knew it would be bad, very, very bad. It didn’t stop him fantasising about her though; Izzy was the hottest girl in this part of London, and he wanted her; hell, he’d fight off a horde of rampaging trolls if it meant he got to plug her properly, and as for his mother…