Little Sister
I awoke to a kiss from my little sister. Our tongues battled, hers keen on dominating mine, but I fought back with a hand to her chest and another beneath her skirt. She slapped me, and I yelped in surprise. “Stupid big bro,” Navy said; her red ears betrayed her anger. I laughed, and Navy pouted, “What are you laughing about, big bro? Are you laughing at me?” She gripped the ends of her braid and pulled them over her face.
I couldn’t help but tease her. “I am. I’m laughing at how cute you are.” As I glanced in the mirror behind her, I noticed my disheveled state—black hair, a handsome face and no pants. I wondered if Navy had taken care of my morning wood while I was asleep. My gaze drifted to her mouth, and I speculated about what might have happened. I moved in closer, sucking on her bottom lip. The sensation intoxicated me, and I knew I was crossing a line.
Navy pulled back, her voice firmer than usual. “Big bro, stop.” She changed the subject, asking, “Do you want to eat breakfast?” I agreed, and we rose from my bed, heading out to the kitchen. With our parents away, we had the house to ourselves. Navy cooked a delicious bacon and eggs breakfast, which we devoured together. As we finished, I caught sight of her panties on the floor, the frilly lace catching my eye. I picked them up, feeling a thrill of excitement. Sniff, sniff.
Navy's face turned bright red as she scolded, “Oh, big bro, you idiot.” Her blush only added to her charm, and my heart skipped a beat. At that moment, I realized I was under her spell, a prisoner to my little sister and her charms.