Who's in Charge?

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Our parents left my brother in charge for the weekend.
9.8k words
4.33
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Part 1 of the 4 part series

Updated 06/08/2023
Created 04/26/2017
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"While we're away, Will's in charge. Do what he says, Jill."

In my mind, I was smashing things and yelling, "Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!" For seven years, when our parents went away overnight or longer, they'd put our brother Phil in charge. (Some parents give their kids the same initial. They gave us names that rhyme.) The last time they'd done this, he was 20 and Will and I were seventeen. We're not Irish or twins-If I told you my last name, you'd figure out that Dad's family is Armenian-but we're what they call Irish twins. I didn't really hold it against Phil the last couple years. I could tell he hated the responsibility as much as we hated him having it. That was a year and a half ago. Now that he'd joined the Navy and shipped out, Will and I both figured we'd be on our own. No such luck. Knowing that Phil didn't like being responsible for us, I was ready to give Will the benefit of the doubt. I'd assume he wasn't going to be a jerk until he gave me a reason to.

Wrong again. They'd barely been gone an hour when he told me to make dinner. I picked up the phone to call our favorite pizza place. He took the phone and hung up. "I said make, not order," he said. "I could go for spaghetti." Luckily, spaghetti's not difficult. (It's the meatballs that are a pain.) He even dug the breadsticks out of the freezer and had them ready when the spaghetti was. Afterward, he complimented me on it.

The trash we created put the garbage pail past the tipping point. Will took the trash bag out and told me to replace it, which I did. He took it to the trash can outside, making a big show of how heavy it was, and he took both trash cans to the front of the driveway because trash pick-up was the next morning, Friday. When he came back in, he sat on the couch in the living room, turned the TV on and put his feet up. "Hey, Jill, bring me my slippers."

I went to his room and found a pair of sandals. I'm pretty sure he doesn't have a proper pair of slippers. Just to gross him out, I carried them in my mouth and dropped them in front of him, panting like a dog. He patted me on the head and said, "Good girl." Still on all fours, I turned around, lifted my leg and made a sound like I was peeing on the sandal he hadn't put on yet. "Bad dog! Bad dog!" he shouted. The community college's flier listing the upcoming extension courses was sitting on the coffee table.He wrapped it up like a newspaper and swatted my butt with it.

I turned around and put my head on the ground with my hands over my face. I said, "You're right. I'm bad!" in a voice that sounds like a half-dozen different cartoon dogs. "What else are you going to do to punish me?"

Will looked at me for a moment. "I got nothin'," he said, and we both laughed. We've been teasing each other sexually for months. I hoped he'd take this chance to do something, but he didn't.

Will had class the next day, and I had to work. When I came home, he had the latest season of his favorite action series on Blu-Ray, and he was changing discs. "What do you wanna do for dinner?" I asked.

"Look in the kitchen," was his answer. He'd gotten our wok out, along with a bag of rice and some vegetables. "I've got a taste for fried rice."

"You dumbass," I told him. "What if I'd had to work late? The pork would have been contaminated."

Will opened the refrigerator. "That's why I didn't take it out," he said. "Give me some credit." He pulled out a medium-size slice of ham and put it on the chopping board. He went back to the den.

I could have put up with making me mix the ingredients, but they weren't chopped. With every cut, I tried to imagine my revenge. Most of them involved his dick and the cleaver. "Ready for your vasectomy?" I'd say. "You're Jewish now!" Or, "You have a new job, guarding the harem."

I tried to think of poisons I could slip into the rice, but I wasn't sure I'd be thorough enough at cleaning the plates afterward. My next thought was to take it down a notch. Instead of killing him, I just wanted to make him sick so I could enjoy watching him suffer. There had to be something in the house that would have him either sitting on the toilet or kneeling in front of it for an hour. The trouble with that was, he might not get there in time, and he'd make me clean it up. I decided to make the food itself uncomfortable. When the rice was about ready, I took a serving out, put it in an ordinary frying pan and added some wasabi.

I put his serving on a plate that was in good condition and mine on a matching plate that has a nick on the edge. I know I could have just used plates that don't match, but one thing we have in common is that we both get fidgety over things like that. In hindsight, I could have used plates and glasses that don't match either, if I could tolerate it myself. I put the rest into a bowl and brought the food out. I went back for the drinks and fortune cookies. (He bought those, too. He may be a jerk, but he thinks of everything!)

I came back and sat down. I tasted a little bit from the plate in front of me and asked him, "How is it?"

He had a strange look on his face. He took a bite, tried to swallow and spit it out. "I can see time!" he shouted. He drank the entire glass of water that I'd brought. "Damn it! I saw the wasabi out, so I switched the plates."

"I left it out knowing you'd see it. I gave myself the plate with the wasabi in it, because I knew you'd switch them. You forgot-Never tangle with an Armenian when your taste buds are on the line."

"I guess I can forget about kissing you goodnight," Will said.

"Yeah, like that was gonna happen." Will didn't even hear the end of my sentence because he'd darted to the kitchen to get a beer. He got us each a beer, implying both a surrender and a bribe not to tell Dad what he'd done. I implied that I was accepting both by drinking mine. Naturally, he drank his with a little more urgency. He continued to hog the TV, so I went upstairs and streamed shows for a couple hours.

Around ten, Will walked into my room. "My mouth has recovered," he announced gleefully.

I didn't take my eyes off the computer screen. "Good for you," I said.

"Time to kiss my sister goodnight," he said cheerfully.

"Good luck with that."

"I'm in charge for the weekend, remember? You have to do what I say."

"Oh, shit," I said. I turned to my right, and Will was standing there, bent down. I halfway expected him to do the thing where you spray your mouth with breath freshener. It occurred to me, though, if he'd done to me what I'd just done to him, leaving my breath as is might be part of my revenge. I raised my head, but he gestured with his hands for me to stand. I did. I should have turned my head so he'd only be kissing my cheek, but I figured if he wanted to play around with me, I'd go along with it.

Will opened his mouth, and I could tell he'd actually rinsed his mouth out. Then I noticed he'd put cologne on. I recognized the scent. A year or so ago, he wanted to get my friend Imani into bed, and I was on board with it. I found out the kind of cologne Imani liked, though not the brand, and I helped him find it. It didn't work, but he still uses it. It disarmed me enough that he could put his arms around me. When his hands touched my lower back, I couldn't help opening my mouth. He hadn't used the generic Scope knock-off; he'd used the high-end brand. "So that's what a tie baseball game feels like," he said.

"Huh?"

"Some manager once said that a tie is like kissing your sister. I think I like ties." He put his hands back around me.

When I opened my mouth again, he moved his hands to my butt. He'd mastered the underappreciated science of applying just the right amount of pressure. His hold was firm enough that I knew he meant it, but not so hard that it felt like he was trying to push my groin into his. I put my hands on his back, and I felt him get hard between us. "I'm sorry for all the jokes I made about you not knowing how to kiss," I said.

"And I'm sorry for all the jokes I made about you having small tits."

"I know you didn't mean it," I told him as I ran my fingertips down his back.

"Oh, I meant it about them being small; I'm just sorry I made fun of you. I didn't want to admit that I actually prefer small ones."

I took off my T-shirt and Will kissed me all over the fabric of my bra. He put his hands behind me again and did to my back what I'd done to his. It made me point my little tits toward him. I reached back to find the hooks on my bra. As soon as I'd undone one of them, Will took over and undid the rest. "You've had practice," I observed.

"Yeah, but bigger girls' bras feel different somehow. I've never freed anything smaller than a C cup."

"Poor baby," I told him.

He pulled my bra off and handed it to me. "Hold this up in the air for me." I looked at him curiously. "Don't make me remind you that I'm in charge," he pleaded. I put the center of the bra in the space between my thumb and forefinger. "Sorry, I meant hold one end and dangle it." I laughed as I did. "There, you remind me of the vintage pin-up girls I see on the 'net sometimes."

I was enjoying this. "What else do they do?"

"Well, I remember one where the excuse for being topless was that she was taking her laundry off the clothesline and hadn't gotten to the shirts yet."

"So her basket was strategically placed?"

"Yeah."

"Time to do laundry," I said. I went to the corner of my room and picked up my laundry basket. I put my T-shirt over my naked chest and then pretended to take it off. I made a show of dropping it into the basket. Then I did the same with my jeans and my bra.

"Aren't you going to put anything else in the wash?"

"Of course. How could I forget?" I took off my shoes and socks and put the socks in the basket.

"Something a little more important to have clean," Will said. "You know, in case you're in an accident." Yes, I still had my underwear on. I wasn't going to give him that big a treat.

"Be right back," I said. I took my basket to another room, dug up a pair of underwear from toward the bottom and went back to my room. Will was waiting for me outside the door. "You were right," I said. I dropped the underwear dramatically into the basket. "Got anything of your own I can wash?" I asked helpfully.

Will was down to his boxers before I could get the basket back into the room. "Hey! You didn't take 'em off!" he complained.

"You haven't earned it," I told him.

"That's okay, I still like the view," he said. From behind, he put his hand on the waistband and pulled the elastic back.

I pulled away, letting it snap back, but I didn't retaliate. "Trying to do the Coppertone thing?" I asked.

"Hell, no!" Will protested. "She's, what, eight? I know the sex offender registries are vague, but I'd deserve it if I did that."

"Good," I said. I'd turned back around, but I wasn't looking him in the eye. I was looking at the tent that had formed in his boxers. "But you could to the Shake Weights ad."

"Which one's that?"

"The one that looks like you'rereally enjoying yourself." I shook my hand up and down like a guy masturbating.

"I don't remember that," he said. I put my hand on the front of his shorts. "Hey!" he yelled.

"You pulled my underwear out. I can't push in on yours?" I asked. The head had risen between my thumb and forefinger. I pressed on it and pulled back a little. His dick was still entirely inside his boxers, but I think the crown had been exposed inside.

"I'm not complaining," he said.

"Good," I answered. I pulled it back a little further. He reached out and rubbed my nipples. I stroked him a little harder, and the head poked through the fly. I let go of the fabric so I could grasp the exposed flesh.

"Oh, yeah," he moaned. "Do that some more."

He bent down and licked my nipples. "Same to you, Will," I said.

"I get the feeling you like giving hand jobs," Will observed.

"I do," I agreed, and I sighed.

"Now you sound like you don't get to do it very often," he said.

"Usually by the time it's gone on this long, the guy moves around and tries to sneak it into my mouth."

"You don't like giving blow jobs?"

"I do," I told him, "but once in a while I like doing this just for its own sake."

"Then I won't stop you," Will said.

"But I have to do whatever you tell me," I reminded him.

"And I'm telling you I like it, so keep it up."

I pushed his underwear back so that I could grasp more of his shaft directly while I stroked him. Will was still licking my tits. "I think we can make this more comfortable for both of us," I said. I guided him onto my bed. He seemed reluctant. "Come on," I said. "It's not new territory for you. I know you've jacked off in here before."

He stopped playing with my tits long enough to ask, "How'd you know?"

"Once it was still wet. Another time it had dried, and it wasn't in the same place that I would have gotten it wet if I'd been the one playing around." Will's hands were gentle, but his caresses were well-placed. Meanwhile, I was having a hard time keeping his dick where I needed it.

I pushed him onto his back and pulled his underwear off. At first I just kept stroking him, but then I climbed over him. I put the shaft up against my pussy, which was still covered, and moved up and down his pole. "Oh, God, Jill! I'm gonna come!"

"Good!" I grunted. I moved faster.

"Fuck, I never knew small titties could bounce that well!"

"Just like big ones, huh?"

"No, different, but still really sexy."

I leaned over. "Take a closer look, ya perv." Shit! I couldn't feel his dick any more. I moved back and I thought I'd missed my chance. His dick was between my butt cheeks, and I wouldn't get to feel him come. I got back just in time for him to shoot in the air. Most of it landed on his stomach, as if he were the bottom in a gay porn, but a little landed in my belly button, and there was a streak on my panties.

"Guess you'll have to wash 'em after all," Will said with a smile.

"You can do the honors," I said.

I raised my hips, and Will pulled them down to my knees. I rolled onto my back. Will pulled my panties the rest of the way off and made as big a show of dropping them into my hamper as I'd done with my other clothes.

He looked back at me. "Oh, dear, we'll have to get you dressed," he said.

"What for?" I asked. "You've got me right where you want me."

"Yes, but you had more fun because I still had mine on, so you should have them on too. You have to do what I say," I reminded me.

"Fine," I said, but I knew he was right. I found my worst-looking pair of white panties just so he'd want to get them off quickly. "Now don't you think you should do for me what I just did for you?"

"Turnabout is fair play," he agreed. "Let's see, you put two fingers around it, so I'll do the same." He found my enlarged pussy lips and put his index and middle fingers on either side. "You moved back and forth." He moved his fingers up and down. "Eventually the inner part was exposed," he said, "but you wouldn't let it stay unattended." I could feel my pussy lips open, and he slipped a finger inside me. I couldn't stop from bucking my hips, but I was able to make sure his finger stayed inside me.

"Shouldn't I be playing with your chest, then?" I asked.

"I wouldn't have it any other way," he said. He used his one finger slowly, probing here and there, while I rubbed his chest. He doesn't have big arms, but the muscles in his chest are really firm, and in my state of mind, that mattered more.

Will added his middle finger. "Oh, shit, yeah," I moaned. "Go harder." He picked up the pace. He wasn't hitting sensitive spots, but he had me open so far that I didn't care.

"Eventually, you took mine off, so I should do the same to you."

"Let me do it for you. I don't want you to take your fingers out of me," I pleaded.

"Neither do I!" he replied. Taking them off one leg was all we needed. I think he got almost as much enjoyment of watching me get out of them as he did from the hand job. Of course, he still had to take his fingers out, but he got them right back in.

He added another finger and he had me panting. "Will! Will! Yeah!" I kissed his nipples and pulled him down so I could kiss him on the lips again. I just wanted to taste his breath and smell the cologne he'd put on for me. I couldn't remember the last time a guy put cologne on after the first date. I could feel his chest against mine. I put my hands behind his back and traced his shoulders. "I'm gonna come!"

"I wanna feel it," Will said. He kept running his fingers in and out, and I came so hard that I forced the index and ring fingers to bend toward each other instead of staying in line with the middle finger.

We both lay there. We'd never taken our play this far before. I was afraid to say anything, because I was afraid he'd freak out and-Shit. The worst thing I could imagine at this point was him not wanting to do it any more. I read his expression, and I got the feeling he was afraid too, even if it wasn't the same thing. He started to get up and then lay down again. "You don't have to stay with me," I told him.

"I want to, Jill."

"Why, because you think I'm embarrassed at what we did? I'm not."

"No, because I love you. I'm like a lot of guys. When we know we can't have what we want, we make stupid jokes to cover it up."

"I know you do. That's why I put up with it. And why I responded the same way."

"What about when you helped me with Imani?"

"Part of it was vicarious. I figured helping you get with her was as close as I'd come to being with you myself. Another part is, I genuinely want you to be happy, and if Imani could make you happy, I was willing to give her the chance."

We kissed and played around more but didn't do much beyond feeling each other. I put my underwear back on, and we fell asleep in my bed.

When I woke up, Will was still there. I kissed him on the forehead. He opened his eyes and looked down at my body and his. "It really happened," he said.

"Yeah, it did." I couldn't read the tone in his voice, so I said it matter-of-factly.

"Wanna do it again?" he asked.

I kissed him again and said, "Not right now. The Glasgow Brothers tickets go on sale online in about 20 minutes, and I don't wanna miss it. But I'm glad you want to keep it up. I was scared you'd chicken out."

I put on my Glasgow Brothers T-shirt that, coincidentally, Will had given me for Christmas. I saw a bra on the floor outside my door. It had fallen out of the laundry basket when I pulled the older pair of underwear out. That reminded me that I still had yesterday's on. I took them off and tossed them in the basket. I paused and wondered if I should put new ones on or wait. I'd just had my period last week, so I wasn't worried on that front. I decided to wait in case I had a hard time connecting to the internet.

I sat on the bed with my computer and my debit card next to me, and I powered up the laptop. I got to the website without incident, but there was already a 20-minute wait according to the screen. I waited a couple minutes to hit "refresh," and now it said 25 minutes. Two minutes later, it said 26. At that moment, Will walked in and asked, "When are you going to make me breakfast?"

"When I get my tickets," I told him.

Will looked at the screen. I refreshed, and it still said 26 minutes. "I don't know if I can wait that long," he said.

"I'm sure you can find something to eat," I said. The screen changed, but it was just the background picture advertising other concerts in the area from the same promoter. I felt something move. I looked down, and Will was kneeling between my hips. He had lifted the hem of my T-shirt. "What are you doing?" I asked.

"I found something to eat," he said, and he separated my pussy lips with his fingers.

"No, you don't!" I said, and I pushed his head back. "I missed them the last time they were here. I'm gonna see 'em this time if I have to steal a guard's uniform."