Complex Life

He had barely any idea what she was doing. He was not positive, but he thought she enjoyed being a tease. That or she just wants to look pretty and be appreciated without any knowledge about the thoughts she might be starting on the men who see her. It began shortly after the split up with her boyfriend after two years together. She started trying the sort of clothes that demonstrated her curvaceous shapes with magnetic effect; her blue dress being the newest and most classic example. As if it was not enough, she's started to doing things that he believed were intended to draw attention to herself.

A few times, when he bumped into her at their mutual friends' parties, she's been showing off in tight shorts and a skintight top, usually with no bra. When she did that, he found it hard not to gape at the way her top embraced her breasts and made her nipples stick out. Every time she walks, which is a lot given how active she is, her breasts swing around in troubling ways. At other times she moves around in an extremely short skirt that hardly covers her round bum and does raunchy things. For example, she leans a little too far forward for some reason or other so one can see more of her cleavage, or she casually flashes her panties when she sits down and pulls up her legs. He was still not fully sure whether she does it deliberately or for no good reason, but either way it filled his head with all kinds of taboo thoughts about her.

"Oh fuck!"

He looked at her and saw she was squeezing and rubbing the upper part of her thigh with both hands.

"What are you doing?"

"I've pulled a muscle."

He tried to move away his attention and the desire to reach over and help her, away from the way her hands were making little dents in her spotless skin. How pleasant, how silky soft and scorching her skin would feel under his exploring hands. Every muscle in his body urged him to massage her elegant thigh, but if he gave in to her tease and massaged her, he'd be doing it for all the wrong reasons. He felt his already thin hold on his lascivious desires tearing further away, and with that any thoughts he had of being a responsible brother whose only major concern was for her safety, not what it would feel like to explore her tremendous body.

She kept on squeezing her leg, supposedly trying to loosen the muscle that gave her legs such a magnificent shape. "Fuck it!" she said and looked at him, "it's not helping. Can you come here and massage it for me?"

He thought of jumping over the table and doing what she asked, however he was almost sure where it would take them to. Luckily, responsibility overpowered before he did something rash.

"Can you try a little harder and manage it by yourself? I see you are getting around it quite well."

"Please," she pleaded, moving her leg around as if trying to relax her pain and giving him peeks between her legs, "can you do it for me? It hurts too much."

The quickly receding sensible thought in his mind was telling him that she was just using her sexual power to mess with her brother, that she was only putting on a show and testing him to touch her in order to find out what effect it would have on him. His other thought, the naughty one, was forcing him to go ahead and do what she was asking as a possible beginning to doing much more than just rubbing her legs. It was so striking and persistent a thought that he couldn't control anymore and gave in and decided to do what she asked. But he still couldn't bring himself to jump and sit with her on the couch and touch her legs.

"You should try to jerk it a little and see if it helps."

"Ok I guess." Reluctantly she got up, threw her leg around a little and sat down again.

"Did it help? Is it still hurting?" He asked, scanning every curve of her tempting sexy body as she moved her fingers over sore leg.

"No! and Yes." She began pressing her fingers into her thick muscles. "Can you give it a try? Your fingers are stronger than mine."

He'd been yearning to get his hands on his sister's flesh for what seemed like centuries, and now he was about to get his wishes, even if it was only her leg. If massaging one of her thick and sensuous muscles to ease her cramp was all he did, then perhaps, just perhaps, it would be sufficient to take the edge off what was speedily turning into an ache to fuck her. To an extent, he'd experience what it would feel like to touch and rub the smooth and supple skin of her legs, and it might, if he restricted himself only to the job without allowing his hands wander, be enough to ease his longing for her to a manageable degree.

It is possible he told himself as he moved and sat at the other end of couch. He pulled her legs towards him and placed his shaky hands on the middle of her achy thigh. She somewhat opened her legs as he started to push his fingers into her flesh. Her skin was warm and soft, and it felt remarkably smoother than he had ever imagined. If her leg felt so good, how would the rest of her body feel?

"Is this the place?" he asked, looking at what he could make out of her pussy shape under her narrow thong.

She glimpsed at his kneading hands, then back up at him. "A little higher."

"How about here?" he asked, sliding his hands up her thigh.

"No, a bit higher."

He moved his hands up further, until the fingers of his one hand were close to her thong. "How about here?"

She moaned as he pushed his hands against her leg. "Ouch, that's the spot."

As he massaged her leg, a strong womanly fragrance wafted up from her pussy, breaking down the moral part of his head. He couldn't resist letting the tip of his finger scratch her panties. The subtle and damp feel of them onto his skin caused his cock throb and his nuts ache.

"Be careful," she grinned, placing her hands on his and trying to push them down her thigh, "it feels good, but maybe we shouldn't be rather so intimate."

He half-heartedly moved his hands a short distance from her pussy. "Sorry, I didn't know."

She must have known he was bluffing, as well as the effect that stroking her leg so close to her panties was having on him. All the things she was doing appeared to be intent on making him want her. The tight dress with its zipper dragged far enough down to expose a considerable part of her tits, asking him about her breasts and legs, turning in the seat and displaying her panties, and, most enticing of all, asking him to work on what he still thought was a made-up cramp on her leg near to where his shaft wanted to be. She was teasing him, he was sure of it, but he was still muddled about what she was up to and why. She got numerous guys who would not think twice to jump into bed with her.

"Are you alright, Steve?" she said, opening her eyes and staring at him. "You're breathing fast."

He thought he was so lost in stroking her leg and gawking at her pussy and trying to figure out what game she was throwing that he hadn't noticed that his breathing had turned short and irregular.

"I'm, um, alright Amelie, just alright," he spoke. It took an enormous effort to pull hands off her, but he managed it. He sat back and placed them on top of his bulge. "How's the leg now?"

"It still hurts." She widened the gap between her legs and brushed the inside of her thigh close to her cunt. "Can you try a little harder again?"

There was no way he was going to touch any part of her body again. He was afraid that if he did, try as he might, he'd be all over her. The idea of getting her to shed her clothes and running his hands all over her gorgeous naked flesh was driving him crazy.

"No, I'd rather not. Probably you should go out and walk it off."

"I guess it's a good idea but I am not going out," she said, and jumped to her feet.

While he watched her pull her dress down and walk away from him across the living room, her hips wobbling with every step, he took the opportunity to move his cock into a more comfy position. It was throbbing so fast that a thought popped in his head that, creepy as it was, made a weird sort of sense. Maybe he could pull it out and touch himself while she was far enough away on her cramp relieving catwalk. He still hadn't a slightest idea of what game she was playing, or if she really was playing one at all. He was so worked up that he was rather sure it wouldn't take too many whacks to blow his load. While, it would have gone a long way toward easing his agony, it was a ludicrous thought, a wild one. Beside the speed with which he'd have to do it, he had no idea how he would explain the mess when she comes back. He was so tormented that he had to do something to ease his ache, so he slid his hand into his pants, draped fingers around the shaft of his cock and started stroking.

"It's a little better now," he heard her speak; "the pain is gone."

He jerked his hand out of his pants as she came strolling toward him, her tits bouncing a little. When she got to the couch, she turned to face him, leaned over to the backrest, and looked at him and smiled.

"That was a brilliant idea of yours."

"That's alright," he said. He could clearly see the round slopes of her breasts pretty down to her nipples. "Ok, it's time to take you home." If she stayed a little more he was sure he would want her.

"As we're here, can you show me where you work? I'd like to see it. I've been told you now work from home too."

The best idea would have been to say no, but he couldn't. He was sure that the more time he lingered alone with her, the more likely it was that he'd do something he was positive both of them would regret. But she was too tempting to resist, and his need for her was so overpowering that he did the most stupid thing instead.

"Alright, finish your drink first," he said, getting on his feet, "but you can't stay long."

When he got to his feet and stood in front of her, she glimpsed down at his pants before turning to go inside. He wasn't all that sure, but he thought a shadowy smile crossed her lips; or maybe it was a grin. Whatever it was, her response to the apparent bulge in his pants was the best sign yet that she was messing with him. What he still couldn't put his fingers on was why.

They turned and walked out of the living room toward one of his three bedrooms which he has turned in to a home office. As they walked, she held his arm in hers and bumped her hip onto him. Even that little contact, as small and seemingly innocent as it was, led fresh blood into his throbbing cock and made his heart race and his body tremble.

"Are you alright, Steve? You seem a little uneasy."

He had to lie. What else could he do? "Not really. I guess all the extra work hours I've been putting in at the office recently have caught up with me."

"Is there any way I can help?"

This was kind of suggesting to him exactly what she was up to. He moved a step ahead. "No, I'm fine. I just need a little vacation, that's all."

When they arrived at his office cum bedroom he turned the latch and opened the door. She let his hand go with a soft groan and she walked into the softly lit room. He followed her in and waited while she takes a long hard view of the room. He took a step forward and stood behind her while she turned and looked at herself in the long tapered mirror in the corner.

"I love this new dress a lot." She smirked and looked at his reflection in the mirror. "Do you really think it makes me look sexy?"

She looked so stunning standing there with most of her twins on display and her skin looking so glossy and attractive that, finally convinced he knew what she was leading to, he took a step forward, wrapped his arms around her middle, and pressed his hard-on onto her ass.

"You look lovely Amelie, every man's dream."

He brushed his bulge between her ass cheeks and slid one of his hands up and held her zipper hook. She wanted him to have her, he now knew for a fact. She really was throwing herself at him. He pulled the zipper down a few teeth and slid his shaky fingers just inside of her dress.

"You know what, Steve?" she spoke softly, looking at his eyes through the mirror, "I think you're the best brother, a sister could ever dream of."

He couldn't go on. The loving and innocent way she had just admired him winded him with a storm of guilt, and he released her and stepped back. He had known Amelie all his life; together they had played games when he was a baby and watched her grow from a playful little girl into a lovely and beautiful woman. He loved and cherished and adored every moment of his entire life he had known her. There was no way he could let himself surrender to his vicious hunger for her. He had to work hard on his out of bounds need, he had to.

The room fell strangely quiet, like there was no one in it.

"So this is where you spend your spare time, huh?" she said, looking at his clean desk.

"Nothing much to see, is there?" he said, "Just another boring bedroom."

"So, what do you do in here? Not much going by how clean your desk is."

"I tend to keep my place clean." He answered his inquisitive sister.

"So do you sleep here too?"

"No, I usually sleep in my room." He moved his eyes to the door as he spoke.

"Is it as tidy as this room? I want to see it too." She started walking towards the door and a little passage between the bedrooms.

He leaped after her and opened the master bedroom. "Alright, I'll let you have a quick look, and then we really do have to go."

"Okay," she said, turning around in the room. "You must be spending a lot of time to keep the place clean."

"Not really," he said, watching her walk to the front of his bed and run her soft fingers over the silky bed sheet.

He watched her as, curving her back a little, she bent over the bed and started running her fingers over nonexistent wrinkles on the bed. The way she did it boosted the roundness of her ass and caused the hem of her dress to ride up so that he could see a portion of thin ribbon of her thong that ran up between her ass cheeks. He wasn't sure yet if her indecent pose was deliberate or not, but the effect on him was terrific. The surge in his cock shook his entire frame until he was struggling to control himself.

His head was a mess. "Look, I think you should better be going."

She stopped playing with the sheets and turned her head to look at him, a shadowy smile twisting her lips. "Are you alright, Steve? You look a bit disturbed." She hopped up onto the bed, kicked her shoes off her feet, and began swinging her legs back and forth. "Is there something I can do to help?"

She was irresistible. He stepped towards her. Wickedly smiling, she widened her legs to let him stand between them so that the sides of his legs were brushing hers. Unable to stop himself anymore, he looked down at the murky wet stain soaking her thong. She's excited, he thought, she must want me to take her, she must do. But even so, with the clear evidence there right in front of him, he still couldn't say it for sure. The fact that her cunt was dripping her enticing womanly juices didn't essentially mean that she wanted what he was so impatient to give her.

She wiggled her chest a bit forward and patted the front of his pants with her small hand. "Is that what I think it is?"

The wicked smile, the sparkle in her eye, showed more than her words. "Yes Amelie, it's a hard on."

"Wow" she said, patting it yet again. "What caused it happen?"

Convinced now it was what she wanted from him, He dropped his eyes on her half naked tits, exposed thighs and her wet panties. "You did."

She placed her hands behind her onto the bed and leaned back, causing the top of her dress to open a little wider. "How? How did I do it?"

He'd had enough of her traps. "Please, Amelie, stop it."

She stroked her slick fingers over his erection through his pants, nearly bringing him to the point of explosion. "Stop what?"

He stepped closer to her, forcing her legs further apart and put his hands on the warm skin of her thighs. "I can't take it anymore, you're driving me crazy."

"I had no idea I was getting my brother so worked up." She sat up and lifted his trembling hands from her legs and set them onto the bed between her thighs. "If that's how you feel, then probably you shouldn't touch me until you've sobered up."

He placed his hands again on the upper part of her thighs close to the hem of her dress. She jerked them off again.

"I think I said, no touching."

The naughty sparkle in her eyes and a smirk on her lips made him think she didn't really mean it, so he ran his fingers on her flashy thigh. "Not even a little?"

"No, not even a little." She sat up and caressed his strong arm with her fingernails. "I know you like watching me and I know you want to take me, but you can't." She dragged her fingers down his arm and squeezed his hand. "Not until I'm ready and say so."

"Amelie...."

She grabbed the zipper tag on the front of her dress between her thumb and the finger next to it and fiddled with it. "I think we're at one of the incestuous crossroads with a 'No U-turn' sign."

The cool, almost laughing way she said it frustrated him. "I still can't understand what your game is, Amelie. What do you want from me?"

"That would be too much of a telling now, wouldn't it?" She tugged her zipper down a couple of teeth. "I don't know. If you promise to keep your hands to yourself, I'll let you have a peek at my tits. Would you like that, Steve, would that make you feel better?"

He motioned his head. "Yes."

"And you promise not to touch any part of me?"

He was shaking. "Yes, Amelie, I promise. I'll keep my hands off you."

She slowly pulled her zipper down, little by little, until her dress was open up to her belly and he could see her small navel. His cock was throbbing as she grappled both edges of her dress at the top and drew them apart until they were just sheltering her nipples.

"Ready?" she said, grinning. "No touching, remember."

He upturned his hands towards her and showed his palms. "No hands."

He put his hands back on the bed between her thighs and watched as Amelie slid her dress down her shoulders inch by inch. She uncovered her tanned shoulders first, then more of the roundness of her breasts. He leaned forward a bit, hungry to get a better look as she inched her dress further down and part of her dark and bumpy areolas slithered out.

She paused. "Ready?"

He thought he said yes. He didn't recall, since he was too keen to see what she was about to reveal him to care. Her boobs were all he wanted to see, were all he cared about. She kept tugging at her dress, the sides falling down her slim arms until finally, eventually, he saw her breasts, and they didn't disappoint. They were so bursting and delicious, with rigid firm nipples that looked like their sole purpose in life was to be licked and sucked.

She looked so enthralling sitting there with her dress pulled down about her waist and looking so tempting and irresistible that something shattered. However, despite what he assured or what she had asked, he now was sure what she really wanted. He pushed his sister back onto the bed, forcing her to swing her arms and knock one of the pillows on the floor with a soft thud. He ignored it and grasped her breasts and fondled them around in his hands, relishing their softness through his fingers and palms.

She set her hands on his torso and gently tried to push him away. "No, Steve, you promised not to touch me."

"A few promises are meant to be broken," he spoke with a grin, "and this is the first one. I see what you really want now."

"Oh really?" she said, still trying to push his hands away from her tits but it didn't appear like she actually wanted to. "And what exactly do I want?"

He pinched both of her hard nipples, making her screech. "That you want your brother to fuck you, of course, what else?"