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Ben didn’t talk about how he felt about his little sister Samantha. They were joined at the hip. Always sweet on one another, like the best of friends, little partners in crime, and always there for one another. They’d fight and tussle like other siblings, but there was also a closeness that their parents found unusual and yet a blessing.
Physically they were close. Puberty came and that brought new strange feelings along with it. Namely, Ben having a strong reaction to cuddling his sister and feeling her become a woman. Hips, curves, a hefty pair of tits that her body filled out to suit perfectly. Itchy hands groped at her more and more. Wrestling turned into excuses to grind and grope.
And Sam didn’t say anything. Ben was thankful for it. He kept his feelings to himself, not wanting to bring attention to it. He was old enough to know it was wrong. And he didn’t want it to be another thing that Sam would use against him, because she would. He knows she’d tease and bully and hound him about it. Maybe. The risk was definitely there. He didn’t want to ruin things and lose the closeness they always had.
Things got bad when she got a boyfriend. She was a college freshman now— a young woman ready for the world, and that meant exposure to guys in a faraway college. It wasn’t surprising when she announced she had a boyfriend.
Ben met the guy once for Thanksgiving.
He was tall, fit, and had a boyish look about him with pitch black hair and olive skin. He had a puka shell necklace, was a marine science major, and had a dispensary’s logo on his tshirt. Lovely, a surfing stoner bro. When her boyfriend slung his arm around her, caressing her arm, Ben squirmed in his seat. A whole Thanksgiving dinner of them canoodling and cuddling at the table, holding hands, a peek of Sam’s arm patting at her boyfriend’s thigh.
Their parents strategically sent the adult children off to help wash dishes after dinner, no doubt to interrogate the guy without their prying ears or intervention.
“He’s kinda….goofy.” Ben says, diplomatically. He wanted to say worse things, some automatic disgust and bubbling venom in his blood just at the sight of them together.
“He’s such a goof. But he’s amazing. Sweet, funny, and lots of fun.” Sam says, her hair up in a bun as she washes dishes in the sink, Ben’s hip bumping into hers.
“Yeah? Like…how?”
“Yknow…like he buys me weed. We watch movies….That kinda stuff.” She rambles, her voice teasing and low.
Ben pictures them smoking weed in some off campus housing, returning to a bedroom lit only by a TV. Bodies flickering in the light, giggles as clothes are shed and movies play on, ignored.
Fuck.
“That kinda stuff. Uhuh.” Ben gruffly huffs.
“What? I’m allowed to have fun. Mom and dad are grilling him right now, are you waiting for your chance to give him the shotgun speech? The ‘you better not hurt my baby sister’ kinda talk—“
Ben tunes her out. It should be me.
Fuck, no. No. What?
“What?” Ben croaks, coming back to the present.
“Ugh. I’m saying, wait your turn to interrogate. This is why I didn’t want to bring him, but mom insisted— It’s like— I’m trying to grow up and be normal and you hate it. I’m trying to move on…and be an adult for once. I’m not a baby anymore.” Sam vented.
“You’re always gonna be my baby sis. No matter how big you get, shrimp.” Ben says warmly.
“Are you calling me fat? Benny, I’m gonna—” Sam chuckles, flicking water at him.
“Shut up. Would you—?!” Ben whines in protest, hands up to block the soapy splash, already speckled with it.
Ben shouldn’t know much about her love life. But he does. She tells him everything. He’s the first to know when they break up. She calls him, sighing and ranting on the phone. He coos, calling her ‘Sammy’ like he did when she needed comfort. He’s always there for her.
Pretty thing like her wouldn’t be single for long. Ben…didn’t like that, but also does, frustratingly enough. In the dark of his bedroom, he pictures his sister coming to him first. He wishes he could screen the potential boys, like it was a job interview. He doesn’t want any chucklefuck with floppy hair dating his sister.
It’s his little sister. He needs to protect her. He needs to make sure she’s taken care of—
Ben wakes up more often with a hard on, wisps of dreams about his sister haunting him. Clawing his heart from the inside. His little sister, dressing even more like the college girl she is, free, showing herself off. On the market for ‘fun’. He doesn’t know what the sick feeling is when it mingles with arousal in his gut.
Sam had a new boyfriend. It was spring break and she had brought him along, already moved onto a new guy. This one was even sadder than the last. Some corny looking dork with big glasses, an anime print button up, and cargo pants.
Ben wanted to scream. This was the guy who was fucking his sister?
“Hey, where’s my hug?” Sam’s voice cuts through his thoughts, a swirling grey mass inside his skull.
Ben makes a sound that’s a cross between a groan and a snarl, grabbing at her in the foyer, sweeping her up into a hug, hands digging greedily into her plush waist, fingers sneaking under her shirt to sink into the bare skin.
“Hah! There’s my big Benny.” She coos, letting herself be squeezed like a toy while her new boyfriend awkwardly makes nice with their parents behind them.
College has been good to her. She’s thick and soft and Ben hasn’t drank any beer yet, but goddamn he feels drunk already. She smells like peaches and vanilla ice cream perfume. His mouth waters.
Peaches. Ben wakes up smelling peaches in his dream. He looks at the time. 2 am. He hears a sound.
He hears someone shushing another person in his sister’s room.
Immediately he hears something else, recognizes the foreign sound of a guy’s voice softly whispering.
Having Sammy’s boyfriend stay with her in her own room was such a generous move from their parents. Maybe it was to encourage her to stick with his guy longer. Maybe it was to pull Ben and her apart. He doesn’t know.
He just knows that she’s spoiled, and judging by the sounds he can faintly hear—
No. Fucking. Way. Ben’s heart leaps in his chest, sitting up comically in his bed, quietly moving to press his ear to the wall.
He hears them fucking, the sounds of heavy breathing faint through the drywall. It’s not much, but it’s more about the implication. His Sammy letting that guy put his paws on her, unable to control themselves in her own childhood bedroom. His Sammy bouncing on this guy, her plump body rocking in the pitch black.
He finds his hands in his pants quickly, lips locked tight to not let any sound out. He hears her moan, softly, like a whisper. She’s doing her best to keep quiet. He knows she’s facing the wall judging by how the sound seems to be pointed directly at the wall.
Unfortunately, the guy is louder. Little hyper breaths that give way to deep shuddering ones that drown out his sister’s. It had only lasted maybe 7 minutes. He can’t hear her anymore. A few more murmurs, the subtle sound of a mattress creaking, footsteps, and then the door quietly opening. She’s going to the bathroom. Only she knows how to open the door that quietly to sneak around.
Ben, still hard in his sleep flannel pants, finds himself at his own bedroom door, fist tight on the handle, staring hard at the wood grain.
What the fuck am I doing. What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck—
“Hey.” Ben whispers.
Sam gasps as she steps back into the pitch black bathroom. She was startled, her brother waiting outside the bathroom for her once she was finished. She’s in her pjs at least, but they’re hastily put on, her pussy cleaned, condom thrown away, and teeth brushed again. Trying to erase the evidence of the disappointing sex she just had.
“What the fuck?”
“What are you doing up?” He asks, grasping at straws for something to say. His eyes are adjusted to the dark so he can see her clearly. His hand on the door jam, not letting her leave.
“I had to pee.” She whispers back, shifting uncomfortably. She looks embarrassed that she was caught. If he was up, it meant he probably heard them.
Ben waits, enjoying the silence, the tension, with a smug grin on his face, “Uhuh. 7 minutes in heaven?”
“Shut—“ Sam snaps, getting a little huffy. She’s embarrassed, arms hugging herself, “Up.”
Would have lasted a lot longer with me. Does he even make you cum? Ben thinks, his mouth refusing to relay it to her.
“Alright, alright.” Ben buries his thoughts, placating by stepping into the bathroom to hug her. Soothing her with rubs to her back. She’s just got on tiny shorts and a loose tshirt. No bra, body still warm, post sex making her..…smell like something carnal.
He nuzzles into her hair and neck. She smells like sex. Her sweat and what he swears are pheromones, or maybe the remnants of that peach vanilla perfume, clashing with the stench of another man’s sweat and spend. He wants to mark her with his scent, like a feral animal.
“Benny, go to bed.” She’s in his ear.
“Sorry, you smell good.”
She makes a sound, typical scoff mixed with…something. Ben hums, not leaving yet. He’s still hard in his pants and for a moment, his heart is in his throat when he realizes that she doesn’t need glasses to notice. Not when it’s wedged between them. She can feel him.
She makes that noise again, a little throaty exhale and it makes him freeze, pressing against him harder, her nipples hard against the flimsy sleep shirt.
“You do too.” She replies. It came out of nowhere, probably a mistake from her.
It’s over too quick. The two of them parting and Ben catching the way her shorts cup her shapely little rear as she sneaks back into her bedroom. To her boyfriend. In the childhood bed she slept in.
Ben later cums in his hand, thinking about what could have happened in the bathroom. Bending her over. Slipping her shorts down, sliding into her barely used cunt to stuff it full and give her something amazing. To show her what she’s missing, shrouded in dark while the world sleeps on. Her boyfriend and their parents none the wiser.
Sammy acts a little different after that. She’s watching him more keenly, sneaking glances. Staring at him when he’s not looking. Her boyfriend gives her grief and it grates on her. Heavily. By the end of spring break, she goes back to her college.
By summer, she’s single again. And Ben knows because she tells him. There’s no fanfare. She seems over it. Nonchalant.
Ben praises her for it. She’s an independent woman, a strong woman who knows what she wants. She eats it up, her voice going soft, sending him heart emojis. She knows her worth, because her doting big brother always reminds her. Reminds her that she’s smart, strong, pretty, and that she deserves a man that compliments her.
A man that she just hasn’t found yet.
Ben doesn’t know how he swung it. He was in college too, already close to graduating. He had a little free time and was going insane. Stress and thoughts of his sister pushing him to cook up a plan to go visit her in her college town, a couple hours away.
He drives, Sammy making sure he was alright with sleeping on her couch in her new college apartment. Bought him a spare pillow and everything.
They didn’t tell their parents. What was there to say?
She was still single and Ben could breathe again. Hugging and spinning her after parking his car felt like coming home. Felt like two puzzle pieces fitting. She laughs and the day feels brighter.
It’s like things are back the way they used to. Two peas in a pod. She’s joking with him as usual, bantering as he sets up to sleep on her couch. To celebrate they make plans to go out for dinner. He’s only there for the weekend, leaving Sunday morning, but it’s enough time for him. Just enough to see his precious girl.
“What kind of restaurant—…..” Ben’s words screech to a halt as he digs into his duffel bag, seeing what his sister is wearing as she struts into the small living room.
“It’s more like a bar and grill.” She shrugs. The straps on her little black dress are thin. The fabric is stretchy, pulled tight to show her soft curves, the swell of her tits and ass. The slit goes to her thigh, showing the sheer stockings, lace trimmed hem squeezing slightly. She is not wearing a bra in that dress, “What?”
“Nothing.”
“What?!” She demands again, a bit more insistent, smiling like she caught him. She has to know what she’s doing.
“You’re wearing a jacket right? It’s gonna be cold and I don’t want you freezing.” He recovers.
“You sure that’s what you’re concerned about?”
“Yeah. I don’t want you bitching and moaning when it’s cold outside and when they have the A/C blasting inside. You know you always do that.” He chides her.
“Yes, I’m bringing a jacket. Fuck you.” She grumbles, unable to stop the bashful smile. He knows her too well. It’s a little annoying. She was hoping to tease him but his genuine concern caught her off guard.
“Fuck you too, shrimp.” Ben says fondly.
Her hand is on his arm, like he’s a gentleman. He notices the heads that turn when they come overdressed to this casual dinner spot. It’s a college town, but also a lot of retirees come. They might be the youngest people in there.
Hand brushing along her, her makeup sultry, lips deep wine red pursed to whisper and giggle. The lighting is warm and low in the restaurant. She still can’t drink yet, so she’s designated driver, watching him order a drink. She even tries a sip and wretches in disgust, her lips tasting the same part of the glass as he did, leaving a lipstick smudge for him to lick with every gulp of his drink.
They talk, sitting close, giggling and cursing and bantering. To an outsider’s perspective, they were a young couple flirting heavily, enjoying a date at the popular dinner spot on a Friday night. Their parents always hated it, how they bantered, teasing each other and pushing the lines of what could be considered appropriate.
They didn’t care.
“Bathroom. Be right back, baby.” Sam coos, hand on his shoulder as she heads toward the back.
“Don’t get lost, little red.”
“Shut up.” She smiles, sauntering in those goddamn heels. Fuck.
She returns after a normal amount of time, but she looks concerned when she sits back down, eyes fixed on the bathroom.
Ben clocks it immediately, knowing her anxious concerned expression well. She got it from mom.
“What?” He asks.
“There was a guy— going toward the bathroom. He stopped me and asked me how much I charge.” She says.
There’s a beat, as Ben wraps his brain around the words, picturing what happened.
“What? What, like you’re—“
“Like he thought I was a hooker.”
“Naw, baby. More like fancy escort, looking like that.” Ben smirks, dragging his eyes down her again, obviously. He does it to try and make her uncomfortable (and to selfishly ogle her) but it never seems to work right…
“Shaddap! I wanted to look nice. He was not my type—“
“Uhuh. Not greyed enough? Not tan and wrinkled enough? Didn’t have a big enough watch on his wrist? Fuck, you should have went along with it.”
“Yeah? You want your sister to give some random old guy a handy in the men’s bathroom?”
“Well shit, if it got you 300 dollars, might as well. Worth it, I’d say.”
“Ben. Why would I do that for 300—”
“You could make it good for him too.” He winks from behind his glass. “You know how.”
“I’m not gonna larp as a prostitute—“
“Not even if I ask you to?”
“You’re my brother.” She says, a bit harsher, eyes turning firm.
“He doesn’t know that. Maybe I should talk rates with him.” Ben smirks again. He couldn’t properly blame the drink in his hand. He wasn’t a light weight. This was off the cuff banter, straight off the dome, high off the lovely night he was having with his sexy sister. She was there with him and it was making him feel like a king, her looking so slutty and hot—
Sammy makes a face, pinched, eyebrows tilted and lip pouting a little. She shifts in her seat and eyes go to the floor.
“I’m just messing with you.” He says, his voice going warm and soft again, “I wouldn’t make you do anything like that. If you’re gonna be getting money for doing something like that….should be with someone you find hot at least.” He winks, trying to make her laugh as always.
“Yeah.” She says, a little zoned out. She’s in her head. He wonders if she’s thinking about it. Thinking about her brother encouraging her to do things with other men. Pimping her out.
“I’d find you someone nice.” He says, calming her, “As long as I get to watch.”
“Fuck off.” She says, but it’s got no bite to it. She’s definitely imagining it now.
They had finished their dinner and were making their way to the parking lot. As luck would have it, the same older man Sam had encountered was being picked up by a rideshare.
“Hey, darlin’! Sorry about that earlier! Didn’t mean to offend you! I promise, I’m not that kinda guy! You’re just dressed so pretty tonight!” He calls out to her, making the two of them stop in their tracks. Sam spins around, immediately putting on her customer service voice, taking pity on the older man who was clearly drunk.
“Oh, it’s okay! No worries!” She calls out.
“Listen, man, you’re a lucky guy. You two having a special evening, some….occasion?” The man calls to Ben, making his driver wait with the door open.
“N-No occasion. Just treating my girl on a Friday night!” Ben responds off the cuff, hand going to her shoulder.
“Amen to that. Perfect couple right there—“ He drunkenly hoots.
“Yeah, yeah….” Ben chuckles, turning down to look at her. His girl. “Perfect, ain’t she?”
The two men laugh and wave, the man getting in his car, apologizing again. Ben laughs, feeling hot in his gut again, buzzing from the deception.
“Benny…” Sam whines, finding herself being led to her car, with his hand low on her back.
“Hm?” He asks, playing innocent.
“Fuck…” She curses under her breath, seeming a little affected. His eyes catch onto it like a hawk. Every micro expression, every exhale.
“It’s true. You’re fucking perfect. Look at you, Sammy.” He looks down at her, how she’s looking so bashful right now, clutching her jacket and purse, her glasses and done up hair, stocking-clad legs, peach and vanilla clogging his nose. The purred nickname does something to her, making her pliant and eager, looking up at him with pleading puppy eyes, “Perfect for me, aren’t you?”
She looks up at him, eyes turning hungry and lidded, grabbing at his belt to tug him close.
Perfect. Nestled together in her bed in her apartment, his things still left by the couch. Perfect like two pieces of a puzzle. Two sides of a coin, but made of the same metal. Radiant, soft, and fierce. And no man could ever hope to compete.