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He knelt between my legs, still naked. He bent over and kissed me again. I tried to sit up but he pushed his torso downward, keeping me down. He started kissing my neck, his breath warm and his lips soft. Without realizing it, I slid my fingers into his hair. I’d never felt anything like it before. In the movies it always looked a little ridiculous when people were making out and licking each other’s necks.
But this felt perfect. I sighed into his mouth and he pulled back, a grin on his face.
“You okay?”
“Yes,” I said. “I want to touch you. I want to taste your cock again.”
He chuckled. “So impatient.”
I opened my mouth to respond, but he kissed me again, physically preventing it. His tongue touched mine and my hands went back in his hair.
I felt him sift his weight but he never broke the kiss. He held himself up with one hand and touched the bottom of my shirt with the other.
He slowly moved his hand up, careful to stay on the outside of my shirt. I tensed up. No one had ever touched me this way. Granted, my doctor was a man, but there was no way I could compare this to a breast exam.
“Relax,” he whispered, breaking the kiss. He kissed the edge of my jaw and moved on back to my neck. My heart was pounding, both from pleasure and frustration.
“Please,” I said. “Please, let me touch you.”
“Not bursa escort yet,” he whispered. He kissed his way up my neck until he got to my ear, adding in the occasional nip with his front teeth. It felt amazing. I almost forgot about his hand.
He’d run it slowly up and down my stomach. The shirt tugged a little with every stroke. He brushed the area directly below my left breast before moving to cup it in his hand.
I gasped again. He didn’t answer. He just kept working my ear and neck with is mouth as he squeezed with his hand.
He caught the nipple between his thumb and finger and rolled it around. “God,” he whispered, his breath tickling, “I always loved your tits.”
“You did?”
“They’re beautiful. You have the most sensitive nipples.” He switched sides, squeezing my right nipple.
“I should have known they would fit perfectly in my hand,” he said, pulling back enough so he could look me in the eye.
“Why?”
He moved his hand down and I groaned in protest. He grinned and slipped it under my shirt and traced an imaginary line on my bare skin. He touched my nipple and I jumped.
He hadn’t been kidding about how sensitive they were. I’d always had trouble when I didn’t wear a padded bra because the slightest brush of fabric would make them instantly harden malatya escort and poke out. I’d been embarrassed by them and it seemed like everyone loved to stare and giggle.
His expression changed. His grin went away and he licked his lips. His eyes narrowed and his voice was gruff. “I should have known because they were made for me. My sister’s tits, and the rest of her body, were created to fit my body. It’s always been meant to be, we just weren’t paying attention.”
My heart thudded. He played with my nipple and my breathing sped up. I reached for him but he shook his head and pulled back.
“My body was made for you,” he said. “I’m your brother, and this was meant to be.
“Take off your shirt.”
I pulled it up and over my head. His eyes widened and he shifted until he was straightened up on his knees, his hands rested on my knees. I reached up for him but he shook his head.
“Play with them,” he said. “Play with your titties so I can watch. Show me what you like.”
“I…”
He held up his hand, cutting me off. “Your brother wants you to play with your tits. Play with your tits, squeeze and tug your nipples until they’re nice and hard. Twist them so they start to sting.
“I want to watch you,” he said. “I want to see my sister play with her nipples for me.”
I çanakkale escort took one tit in each hand ad ran my palms over the already very erect nipples. He glanced back and forth between my face and my hands. I took both nipples between my thumb and fingers and tugged them.
“Twist them,” he said. “Show your brother how you make them sting.”
I tried giving them light twists but he leaned forward and pushed my hands aside.
“Like this,” he said.
He caught them and tugged. They seemed to stretch farther than should have been possible.
“God, I love your tits,” he said. “Your nipples are amazing. I didn’t know they were that big.”
He twisted my nipples harder than before. It didn’t exactly hurt, but it wasn’t gentle either. He worked them back and forth, making me gasp and grab his forearms.
He let go of my nipples and twisted his hands until he was holding my wrists. He leaned forward, pinning my hands by my head. His face was inches from mine, his breath warm on my cheeks.
“Tell me you want me,” he said, his eyes hazy.
“I want you.”
“Why do you want me?”
There were so many answers to that question. I wanted him because he was handsome. He had a nice body. He was a good kisser. He made my body feel amazing. But I gave him the truest reason of all.
“I want you because I’m your sister. I was made for you. I want you because you’re my brother.”
He smiled and leaned his face closer to mine until our noses were nearly touching. “I like that answer.”
He didn’t let go of my wrists. Instead he just shifted my weight until he was positioned over my chest.
“Can I taste my sister’s nipple?”