beyond ready to match your freak on this, sick and twisted, i luv it >:)
i think this is the night he finally cracks a little... youve been rilling him up for so long at this point, lying to him, ignoring him, purposely making him jealous, hes had enough of this little game. especially when he notices you didnt even bother with panties under your skirt...
so there you two are, in his bedroom once again. his cock is right there, right in front of your face, you can basically smell his musk from where you're sitting. whining at him when he's telling you to beg for big brother’s cock. its so dirty, you really should be disgusted by this, but hes so intoxicating like this. something is different in his eyes from last time you two where sitting like this. theres a desperation in his eyes, like hes begging you to push him into the deep end.
suddenly he's telling you that if you beg real pretty for it, he might let you touch him... oh boy... why did he say that, he'll regret saying that in the morning. but for now he's too occupied with the dirty, depraved prayers slipping from your lips. if patrick could hear them now he would be sick to his stomach, honestly what's wrong with you both??? making his sweet little sister call art her big brother and beg him, on her knees, to let her touch him?? but neither of you are thinking about that at all.
i think, after reveling in your praises, he lets you move closer. tells you to take care of his balls while he jerks himself off :(((( he still wont let you touch him with your hands tho. but maybe he lets you come off the floor, instead he sits against the headboard and lets you lay between his thighs, making such a mess on his sheets. even while lost in pleasure and depravity, art keeps insisting that this doesnt mean that he'll ever fuck you. this is for him, not for you. he doesnt believe you when you tell him youd never tell anyone, youre too much of a slut to keep it to yourself. maybe he'd even rest his pretty cock on your face while youre sucking his balls :(((( makes you beg him to slap your face with it :((( so mean of him!!!
-🐞
GODDDD thank you for matching my freak <3
“Say it and I might let you touch me. If you beg pretty enough— if you’re a good little sister.”
And you know how bad it is when the words slip past your lips for the first time. Know it’s fucked up to fantasize about. But you’re so wet it’s dripping down your thigh where you sit between his legs. Patrick is so far from your mind, reality is a hazy blur around whatever the fuck exists outside of Art’s dorm room.
Because you he was like a brother earlier, just to make him mad, and now he’s making you eat your words. It’s the worst thing he’s ever asked you to do, just the sheer taboo of it all. It’s all fake, you remind yourself, and you want him so bad you’d do anything.
“I want my big brother’s cock.” It makes you shiver, makes your cunt clench around nothing, needy, desperate. You whine, grind against your heel. “Need it so bad. I’m so wet, Art, I can’t stop thinking about it.”
He laughs, revealing his teeth as he smiles wide. But there’s nothing warm or sweet about it. Just cold, cruel pleasure. “Yeah? You want big brother to fuck you so bad, huh? You stuff that pussy full of your fingers wanting it.”
You nod, and fuck, he’s so close you feel dizzy with want. Just want to open your mouth, take him into your warm, wet mouth, get him nice and wet.
“Say it again.”
You whine. “I want you so bad. Need big brother’s cock inside of me— wherever you want, Art. Just want to make you feel good. I want to be a good little sister.”
Jesus fucking Christ. Just hearing you say it makes him dizzy. It shouldn’t be as hot as it is. He readjusts, sits against his headboard and you whine when he moves away from you.
“C’mere, lay down between my thighs, but no touching.” So you do— obeying easily. Your hands are pinned beneath your stomach, you look up at him with wide eyes, just begging for direction.
He starts jerking off again, so close that you can hear every slick pass of his hand. And you feel so left out, almost want to cry with need.
“Be a good little sister, suck on my balls while I make myself cum.”
He might as well have offered you the whole fucking world on a platter. You don’t give him time to change his mind before your mouth is on him, laving the soft skin of his sack with slow laps of your tongue.
You moan, loud and debauched, because it’s everything you’ve been wanting so bad. It’s the taste of him, salty and heady on your tongue. And the feel of him pulsing in your mouth, twitching and needing release. You grind into the bed, finding a tiny amount of friction in the balled up duvet beneath you.
He groans when you suck one of his balls into your mouth, when he feels your moan vibrate against him, nearly cums on the spot. This is supposed to be fucking degrading, but he can see you grinding your bare, sticky cunt onto his blankets. Your mouth is so hot, so wet— your lashes rest against your cheeks, you look so fucking content between his thighs with his balls in your mouth.
He wonders if there’s anything he could do at all to curb your incessant lust for him. Slapping you hadn’t worked, incidental as it was. Ignoring you only drove you to whore yourself out to other boys. He doubted there was anything on the planet that you wouldn’t do, any way you wouldn’t debase yourself for him.
Jesus Christ. He should tell Patrick. He should come clean, explain how fucking bad things had gotten. It would’ve been better if he’d just fucked you once to begin with, now if he tells Patrick he has to reckon with… this.
“Can’t believe you’re fucking getting off on this,” he mutters, even as he strokes his cock to the sight of you, humping his bed and sucking his balls into your pretty wet mouth. “This is supposed to be for me, not for you. Doesn’t fucking change anything either. I’m not fucking you, not ever.”
He holds his cock over your face, presses it against your nose and forehead. You whine, nuzzle against it like you’re a fucking puppy. It makes his cock pulse, the sheer neediness.
He hears your soft pants, the debauched moans as you grind into the bed. Keeps jerking himself off against your face, bucking his hips, lets his cock glide against your soft skin.
“Beg for your big brother’s cum, honey.” You sob pathetically, hump the bed harder, faster, desperate in your need for release. He slaps his cock against your cheek, makes you whine. “Beg for it.”
“Please, Art,” you whine. “Need it. Need it need it need it.” You mouth at his balls, your moans all choked and strangled as you get closer. It’s so pathetic, so fucking hot he can’t help himself. He cums, making a mess of your hair, of your face.
The sound he makes, the feel of his balls drawing up, pulsing on your tongue, it’s enough to drive you crazy. You cum hard, tears slipping down your cheeks as you pathetically grind against his duvet. You keep lapping at his balls, let his dick get soft, rest flaccid against your face.
He pushes you off after a while, mutters something under his breath about how gross this all is. How fucking desperate and depraved you were.
It pisses you off. You’re the one with his cum drying on your face, in your hair. It’s not like you were the one who was getting off on being called big brother. I mean, you were getting off on calling him that, certainly. But you didn’t bring it up. That was him. He was just as fucking bad as you were.
So you steal his shower, don’t fucking talk to him as you grab your shit. He, chewing on his cuticles as you shove past him, heading for the door.
“Where are you going? It’s, like, two in the morning?”
You laugh. So now he wants to play at being the protective friend? “Fuck you, Art. I’m sleeping in my own room.”
He lets you go, tries to ignore the pang of longing. Whatever. Maybe you finally learned something.
