Eager for My Brother's Return

Chapter 34

A normal person almost getting caught by their mom fucking their brother—if that can even be called “normal”—would freeze up on the spot. The horniness would vanish, their heart would pound in terror, their legs would lock from shame. Not me.

The risk didn't kill it at all. If anything, it threw fuel on the fire that was already smoldering low. The closer she got to the locked door, the more my body reacted with hot jolts racing up my thighs, my ass clenching empty, my pussy contracting on its own like it wanted to draw attention. It wasn't lust for her, or for getting busted by my parents—that'd be fucked up even for me. It was just... pure adrenaline. The raw chance of being seen right in the middle of it, no filter, no lies, no way to hide what I really am. And I didn't hate it. It didn't gross me out. It didn't really scare me, and it just cranked everything up higher.

The door couldn't be locked again. My mom had already stepped into the hallway, voice loud, bitching about the smell, the messy closet, anything to give her an excuse to get closer. I was still dripping down my legs—a thick, hot trail sliding down the inside of my right thigh, dripping slow onto the hardwood floor. My clit throbbed exposed inside my bunched-up panties, my outer lips swollen and rubbing against the barely zipped jeans. My whole body shook with a fine tremor, electric shocks climbing from my belly to the back of my neck. I needed to finish. I needed to cum again, even if it was quick, even if it hurt.

I looked around desperate, hunting for any corner, any spot. Under the bed? In the closet? The bathroom? Nothing made sense. She'd hear. She'd smell it. She'd notice I was panting, pale, pupils blown wide, with a wet stain on my crotch.

My brother, on the other hand, never loses his cool. While I stood there frozen like a cornered animal, he was already in survival mode. He glanced quick at the cracked-open door, calculated something in his head, and said low, in a sharp whisper:

"Weirdo, run to the bathroom now. Finish yourself off quick. I'll make an excuse, say I'm grabbing soda to go with the pizza. I'll swing by the pharmacy on the way and get the lube. Okay?"

I blinked, still dazed, my body shaking from anticipation and frustration.

"Okay... but don't take long."

He was already grabbing his keys and wallet from the dresser, stuffing them into the pocket of his shorts in a rush.

"After we eat, she'll take her meds, bitch about Dad, crash on the couch, and be out in half an hour. Just don't get loud, Nicole. If you moan too much, game's over."

He flashed that crooked grin, the one that mixed mischief and our secret bond, and yelled down the hall before I could even answer:

"Mom! Be right back, gonna grab some cold soda from the corner store!"

Her voice came from the kitchen, half annoyed, half relieved:

"Get the two-liter, don't come back with cans—that shit's not enough for anybody! And bring a pudding too!"

He winked at me one last time—quick, conspiratorial—and vanished out the door. The slap of his flip-flops echoed down the empty hall.

I closed the bedroom door careful, without locking it. I tiptoed to the hallway bathroom, locked it from inside, and leaned my back against the cold sink. The foggy mirror showed a version of me I barely recognized: eyes glazed, mouth half-open, cheeks flushed, forehead sweaty, jeans unzipped in front with a dark stain growing in my crotch.

I shoved everything down again—pants, panties, all tangled at my ankles. I spread my legs as wide as the space allowed, one foot up on the sink edge. My pussy still pulsed, red, swollen, glistening wet. My ass clenched and released on its own, remembering the emptiness Lucas's finger had left earlier.

I shoved three fingers in at once up front, no warmup, no mercy. My pussy opened easy, slick, hot, gripping them like it missed them. I curved hard, hitting that spot that made me see sparks. My other hand went to my clit—thumb pressing, circling fast, almost angry.

I bit my forearm to muffle the moan. The wet slaps of my fingers plunging in and out were way too loud for the tiny bathroom. The pleasure built fast, brutal, mixed with the fear of her knocking any second.

"Come on, come on, come on..." I thought, hips bucking against my hand, thighs quivering.

The orgasm hit in under a minute. Short, but strong enough to leave me dizzy for a few seconds. My pussy clenched in dry spasms, squeezing my own fingers till it almost hurt, my clit throbbing under my thumb like it wanted to blow again. Cum leaked over my palm, thick and hot, dripping onto the cold bathroom floor in quiet splats. My back arched on its own, my head bumped lightly against the foggy mirror. A hoarse moan slipped through my teeth, muffled by the forearm I bit down hard on to keep it from leaking into the hall.

When the shakes passed, I pulled my fingers out slow, feeling every inch slide free, my inner walls still pulsing in empty spasms. The emptiness hit harder than before, like always. I stared at the cracked bathroom ceiling, panting, legs wobbly, jeans bunched at my ankles. For a second, I almost felt satisfied. Almost. But that never lasted more than a few minutes. My mind was already wandering: Lucas and his little dick that never hit deep enough, Gustavo fucking me standing on the condo stairs without a word, Fabiano with that sweaty, motor oil smell that made me stupid, and now my brother—the way he looked at me when we were alone, his mouth still wet from my taste, his hard cock bulging in his pants just from talking lube. I couldn't wait for him to get back. My ass clenched on its own, eager, remembering his finger from earlier, the full pressure that made me cum in a new, dirty way.

I looked in the mirror and saw the mess. Hair messed up from the ponytail, face red, eyes glazed, cheeks sweaty, an inflamed pimple on my forehead I hadn't even noticed before. Jeans with a dark stain in the crotch, panties stuck to my skin, thighs shiny with wetness. Total wreck. I cleaned up as best I could: rough toilet paper scraping my too-sensitive clit, making me hiss low from the mix of pain and leftover lust. I tossed the paper in the toilet, washed my hands quick, pulled up my panties and jeans without caring if it was clean or not. I needed to get back to the bedroom, finish sorting that pile of clothes in the closet before Mom barged in again bitching about the smell or the mess.

When I got to the bedroom, my phone buzzed on the bed. Val. Of course it was her. I opened it quick just to peek:

"check out this video, the chick cums screaming just like you in the bathroom, lol"

I laughed low, that silent laugh where just air comes out your nose. I replied with three laughing emojis and a "you crazy bitch." I didn't even open the video. I knew if I did, it'd make it worse. My body was already heating up again, my clit giving a weak throb just imagining what was in it. That shit was gonna ruin my life. Make me hornier right when I wasn't in a good spot, when I needed to breathe, take a proper shower, pretend to be normal before the pizza showed up and Mom passed out on the couch after her meds.