I never planned to write it down, let alone post it where strangers could read every filthy detail. But after that first time with my brother, the words just kept coming, hot and urgent, like the way his hands had moved over me. I was twenty-two, he was twenty-four, both of us living back at our parents' place for a few months while the world sorted itself out. We had always been close, but nothing had ever crossed the line until the night the power went out.
The house was dark except for the candles we'd lit in the living room. Mom and Dad were out of town for the weekend, leaving us alone with nothing but old board games and too much wine. We sat on the floor, knees touching, laughing about stupid childhood stories. Then the conversation turned quieter. He told me he'd always watched me, that seeing me walk around in those tiny shorts had driven him crazy for years. I should have laughed it off or changed the subject. Instead I told him the truth: I'd touched myself thinking about him more times than I could count.
The air changed. His eyes went dark, and before I could second-guess anything, he leaned in and kissed me. It was slow at first, testing, then hungry. His tongue slid against mine and every reason this was wrong melted away. I climbed into his lap right there on the rug, feeling how hard he already was through his jeans. My hands shook as I unzipped him, wrapping my fingers around his cock for the first time. He groaned into my mouth, hips pushing up, and I knew there was no going back.
We didn't make it to the bedroom. He pulled my shirt over my head and sucked my nipples until I was whimpering, then shoved my shorts and panties down in one rough motion. His fingers found how wet I was and he cursed, sliding two inside me while his thumb circled my clit. I came fast, grinding against his hand, biting his shoulder to stay quiet even though no one else was home. Then he laid me back, spread my legs, and pushed his cock into me in one long thrust. The stretch burned in the best way. He fucked me slow and deep at first, watching my face, whispering how tight I felt, how long he'd wanted this. I wrapped my legs around him and begged for more.
We moved to the couch after that first round. He bent me over the arm, gripping my hips as he slammed into me from behind, one hand reaching around to rub my clit until I came again, shaking and soaking his cock. He followed right after, pulling out at the last second and painting my lower back with hot streaks. We stayed there panting, skin slick, the candlelight flickering over us.
The next morning we didn't talk about it. We just did it again in the shower, me on my knees sucking him until he filled my mouth, then him eating me out against the tile until my legs gave out. By the third day we were fucking everywhere: the kitchen counter, the laundry room, even once in the backyard at night when we couldn't wait. Every time felt dirtier and better than the last. I let him take me raw, let him come inside me, let him call me his little sister while he pounded me into the mattress.
I posted the first version on the forum the day after they came home. I changed our names and left out some details, but the heat was all there. The comments poured in, strangers telling me how hot it was, asking for more. So I kept writing. Every secret touch, every whispered "don't stop," every time he made me come so hard I saw stars. The stories weren't polished. They were raw and messy, just like us.
We still sneak around now that the house is full again. Late at night he'll text me from across the hall, and I'll slip into his room wearing nothing under my robe. He fucks me quiet, hand over my mouth, while our parents sleep down the hall. Sometimes he records my moans on his phone so I can listen later and write the next post. The forum keeps growing. People say they wish their own families were this close. I just smile and type another chapter, remembering the way his cock feels when he pushes in slow, the way he says my name like a prayer and a sin at the same time.
It started with a power outage and too much wine. It turned into something we both crave every single day. And every time I hit post on that forum, I feel the same rush I get when he bends me over and takes what we've both wanted for years.
No one else knows the real names or the real faces, but the hunger is all true. And it only keeps getting stronger.
