by Zoe Davis
It really didn’t seem like anything was ever going to mend our relationship. It certainly wasn’t dad’s constant budging of me to accept Brandon as my brother from the time him and Brandon’s mom were dating. We just didn’t get each other or have anything in common, and I wasn’t sure I cared if we ever spoke to each other again.
“Elle, you hardly said a word to you brother entire time he was here” I remember my dad scolding me after Brandon flew back to Los Angeles. I gave a long sigh and rolled my eyes.
“He’s a jerk; besides, he hates me anyway” I said.
Brandon was far from my mind at the time, though. He was across the country and I was nearly seventeen at that time, brimming with my own indignant attitude toward everything. So, in standard teenage fashion, I stomped upstairs to avoid continuing the debate with dad.
But I did find myself regretting not giving Brandon much of a chance. Despite my not buying what I figured to be an “act,” Brandon had been less invasive when he’d visited. He teased some, but it almost seemed friendly and light-hearted. I wondered if I had the wrong impression of him.
Of course, I might have acted differently if I’d known I wasn’t going to see him again for another four years. We lived in Miami, and Brandon went to college in Los Angeles. He couldn’t have picked a farther place from us on the continent, it seemed. And with the hit dad’s bank account took just to fly Brandon back out here for one visit, it wasn’t feasible to have Brandon come back too often.
It would have been one thing if his mom and my dad stayed together. Of course he would’ve come home more often, but after that first visit our parents got divorced and his mom moved back to Tennessee. This gave Brandon virtually zero reason to ever return to Miami.
I definitely felt bad for dad, but inside I’d been kind of relieved; my chapter with Brandon was seemingly over, after all. And I was back to being dad’s only concern. Sure, I could’ve been nicer to Brandon while he visited for the last time, but how was I supposed to know it would be the last? And besides, it was a great opportunity to move on from that terrifying chapter in my life.
Plus, I was getting older now and thinking forwards, not back. I was busy with school and afterschool programs to seal a nice scholarship. And with the way my body was developing, boys were making their way onto my agenda too.
After Brandon moved to LA, he would send me short emails around the holidays, but they read like correspondence from a loose associate, and not a sibling. All of that was fine with me because I never planned to respond with anything more than, “Yeah, you too.” He just wasn’t family to me, but I guess I never felt like he was in the first place. It was just two years were a strange boy and his mom came to live with us and we didn’t get along at all.
I hadn’t really been paying much attention to Brandon though, but all this time, my stepbrother was quickly maturing into a real man, and a gorgeous one at that.
In fact, the one time I’d glanced at his social media profile a few years ago, I saw a picture of him and caught my gaze lingering on his abs. It was a photo from a pool party, and he must have just stepped out because his tight skin glistened in the sunlight. He had the kind of stomach you only saw in magazines, that you convince yourself doesn’t exist in real life. For that moment, I wasn’t looking at my stepbrother, I was looking at an incredible sexy man.
I remember breaking my gaze and thinking to myself how wrong it was to be attracted to him. Then I quickly closed out my browser. Brandon and I weren’t technically related, but it was too close for comfort.
Because we had been step-siblings living under the same roof for two years, we’d still seen each other walking around the house in our underwear or getting in trouble for this and that by our parents like normal brother and sister. Of course, Brandon didn’t look like that when I saw him in his underwear. He used to be a kind of pudgy football player, the kind who had the weight the team needed but with no real definition.
We didn’t share that kind of life for more than those two short years, but we had shared it. Besides, it’s not like I would have even met him if it weren’t for our parent’s marriage. And even though it was hell back then, and we had a very frustrating past, it was still a part of our history together. Well, ‘frustrating’ is an understatement.
I can’t stress enough how much a jerk Brandon had been to me. He either locked himself up in his room or made fun of me with his guy friends as I tried hopelessly to mind my own business.
My stomach would knot every time I’d be in the living room - thinking I’d had to house to myself until mom or dad came home, only for him and his stupid friends to come waltzing in. They had such clever one-liners, or so they thought, and they never seemed to tire of it. I’d attempt a few comebacks but they’d fall flat and I’d always end up walking into the brunt of some new joke. It was really best when I kept to myself.
The breaking point for me was definitely when he and his friends were hanging outside and I heard them through my open window, calling me “flat chested,” or “pimple face,” to Brandon’s endless amusement.
So it was particularly stressing when, as a hopeless teenage puppet to my chaotic hormones, I’d sometimes, even back then, catch myself hosting very impure thoughts of him. They mostly started when I caught him making out with a girl on the couch one afternoon. They were so into it they didn’t even notice me on the stairs, but I watched as Brandon slid his hand up her shirt, cupping her breast and their tongues danced wildly together.
These kinds of thoughts of Brandon only got worse after I saw his dick.
One day, a few weeks before he left for college, I was running late for school. So I burst into the bathroom without even thinking and stumbled upon him masturbating.
He was big, and I didn’t have much to compare him by but to this day he’s the biggest I’ve ever seen. And he was been pretty involved in the task at hand, because it took him a second to notice me notice me, frozen in place with wide eyes glued to his length.
To make matters worse, I’d managed to walk in right at the moment big white ropes started shooting out of his dick. It was only when he was huffing deep from the pleasure, that he caught me in the corner of his eye.
“Elle? Fuck, get out!”
He blushed red, but he couldn’t do anything but try to turn away as his load continued to spurt out. I quickly darted away and we avoided each other for most of the next week. Soon after, he left for college.
Most of my own self-pleasure sessions involved the image of his stroking though. I imagined he was thinking about me and that he was masturbating because he had to see me in my panties from time to time and couldn’t hold it in. I imagined he needed to masturbate to keep from taking me right there in our parents’ house.
Try as I did to push the thoughts from my mind, Brandon’s passionate touching of his own dick always sprang into the forefront. His hands wrapped around and gripped it in a rough, masculine way and I wanted those hands all over my body.
But thankfully, when he left, I counted that chapter closed. Until I received some shocking news a few years later…
“Elle, you ready for some big news?” Dad asked me at the breakfast table as I passively typed out a text on my phone. I just woke up and I had never been a morning person so I was only half paying attention. He continued with the delivery despite my ignoring him in my morning haze.
“Your brother is coming into town for a week,” He said with his eyebrows up and his arms out wide in a kind of ‘how-about-that’ gesture.
My skin developed chills at the sound of brother. For one, he was my step brother, and for another thing, I hadn’t heard much of a reference to him in years.
“What?” I asked, finally alert. “When?”
“This Thursday,” I could tell Dad was very excited. He didn’t even notice that I didn’t come close to matching his enthusiasm.
Deeply entrenched in a texting argument with my boyfriend, I aimlessly blurted out my disapproval.
“W
hy is he coming to Miami? Why do I have to see him? What does he want with us?” The questions just kept coming and I had seemingly lost all control of them.
“Elle, he’s your brother-“
“Step brother,” I corrected.
“I know you two never got along so well, but please, please try to accommodate him. It’s only for a week,” he said, finally sitting down with his breakfast.
“Why is he coming here anyway? Lisa hasn’t even been by here since the divorce” I said without realizing that it might be a painful thing to point out to dad. They didn’t end on good terms. She had fallen in love with someone else and it really made things awkward between them ever since. Dad really thought she was the one, too.
“Well anyway,” he continued, “it looks like he just finished school and he’s got a job interview here in Miami.”
I sighed, provoking Dad to pull a stern look over his face.
“But it’s not for another week still and his lease in Los Angeles is up. So he’s in kind of a jam” Dad explained.
“Oh, ok. I thought for a second he wanted to see us or something” I said sarcastically, shrugging.
Dad let out a long sigh in annoyance.
“Look, I need you to be extra supportive here because it’s just going to be you and him after I leave Thursday night,” he explained. My eyes widened.
“What?” I lifted from my phone with a look of terror. Brandon? And me? Alone? With his tight abs and his huge cock, and dammit Elle he’s your step brother, I reprimanded myself. I could feel my knees weaken and my throat dry out like a desert in a drought.
“See this is why you don’t need to be on that phone at the table while I’m trying to talk to you” dad said as he re-informed me. “I told you last week that I’m going to Charlotte for the week to close this big business deal, so I’m picking Brandon up from the airport and we’re going to go out to eat before I have to jump on a plane, too” he finished as I exhaled with frustration.
“Fine,” I surrendered. Then I sulked for a moment before finally dragging my feet off to school for the day.
The next week was useless for my education. I tried to study but I couldn’t stop thinking about Brandon visiting. What if he catches me staring at his abs? I worried. What if he finds me attractive too? After all, I had grown a nice set of tits since the last time he saw me and my skin had cleared up. I shook the thoughts out of my head only to be caught off guard by them later on.
As we neared the day to pick him up from the airport, it only got worse. I started dreaming of him.
In one dream he was topless and wet like his photo, and he pressed his dripping lips to mine, pulling me close. My heart pounded and I was plagued with the knowledge that I should push him away, but that only made me want him more. His lips were electrifying and my senses were heightened since I wasn’t supposed to be tasting him at all.
Then, there was the other dream. I was sucking his perfect cock. I wrapped my lips around the head and glanced up at Brandon who was smiling. Then he placed a hand on the back of my head and said, “Oh, just like that sis.” I remember waking up in a panic shortly after he called me sis.
On Wednesday night, I hardly slept at all for fear of having another dream. I kept encouraging myself to move pas this. It was all just a harmless fantasy, one that I didn’t really want to pursue. But I couldn’t really convince myself that this was anything other than a seriously real attraction to my only sibling. Even if he wasn’t related by blood.
The ride to the airport was nerve wracking. I sat in the passenger seat, biting my nails, while Dad drove too fast.
“Aren’t you getting excited, Elle? Now that it’s actually here?” he was obviously very excited, himself. I just nodded and stared down the road to the horizon, hoping the airport would never show up. Hoping that maybe it disappeared in some alternate universe and that Brandon was a dream and that I wouldn’t ever have to be confronted with his physical form. But of course that didn’t happen and within five minutes we were pulling into the airport parking lot.
We stepped out of the car and into the burning sun. By the time we reached the doors I had hair plastered to my forehead from sweat. What a great start, I thought to myself. We found a couple of seats and watched crowds of people rush hectically around us.
I stared at my shoes while we waited. A long black scuff was on the inside, and a few short marks and creases lined the top. I couldn’t help but wonder how I must be walking in order to create such a pattern, but I didn’t get far into my thoughts.
“There he is!” Dad jumped out of his seat, pointing enthusiastically. I lifted my eyes to look for Brandon, but was only met with the most gorgeous man I’d ever seen. He stood tall with broad shoulders and a smile that made me melt. It took me a moment to notice that I had stopped breathing.
“Where?” I said as I tried looking around the hunk in front of us for Brandon but I didn’t see anyone else. The beautiful stranger before me was eyeing me and smiled before I quickly turned away, blushing. And then I realized why this hunk had been eyeing me.
“Brandon! Oh wow!” Dad said as he swung his arms around the beautiful guy.
Holy shit, I thought to myself. He was Brandon!
He changed completely from the slightly chubby jerk that terrorized me, and was even different from the somewhat improved college freshman that had visited before. His muscles popped from beneath his skin and his muscle tee, and his green eyes sparkled under the fluorescent lighting. I tried to find a glimpse of the old Brandon in him, something that would cool my body down from the sight of him, but there wasn’t anything. Brandon had been a boy, and standing before us was a 23 year old stud that nearly made my panties wet before I’d realized who he was.
And I felt wrong for it. Brandon was family, not some possible lay. I felt like curling up in my chair with my legs tucked in as he came over to me, but I could hardly move. Somehow I found my way to my feet and joined Dad and this strange new Brandon.
“Elle, I can’t believe this. You look totally different” He said as he threw his arms around me. His deep clean musk surrounded my senses as my attention turned to my breasts being pressed up against his solid chest. The heat of his muscles overwhelmed me and I fought the urge to rest my head against his chest. I pulled away suddenly and dropped my arms to my side.
“Um, yeah you do too” I ejected a dorky grunt. My hands felt awkward so I started playing with my hair and looking to the side.
When I lived with Brandon before, I never really cared about being seen in a compromising situation in front of him. He’d seen me a million times walking around in my pajamas with my hair up, or biting my nails as I aimlessly browsed the internet; but now I’d felt myself becoming very self-conscious.
How do I look? Am I acting weird? I thought to myself frantically.
These insecurities had become kind of foreign over the years. I mean sure, I still had plenty of flare ups when I somehow looked five pounds heavier or I had a bad hair day, but I was very different from the one Brandon used to pick on.
I was nineteen now, in community college and I’d developed a full figure that was approached often by guys way hotter than my younger self could have ever dreamed.
And Brandon even seemed to notice that I was far from flat chested. I had caught his eyes wandering down to my cleavage just before we hugged. At least I think that’s where he was looking.
While I expected I’d looked different to him, I wondered if he had any idea how different he looked to me. His wide shoulders, tall strong physique, blonde hair stubble and glowing green eyes took my breath away now that they had evolved into a mature and rugged image.
Brandon even sported a couple of tattoos on his tanned arms and a dog tag around his neck that sparked my curiosity. I tried to forget about it. He’s my stepbrother, and that should be the end of it.
