Her Brother's Birthday
Category: Group Sex | Words: 564
The insistent throbbing in my pelvis had nothing to do with the cheap beer I’d been pounding since dawn. It was strictly a reaction to Jessica, sprawled on the worn leather couch, her back to me as she fumbled with a video game controller. Her skin, tanned and smooth, glistened in the afternoon sun that streamed through the dusty windows. God, she was beautiful.
It wasn’t just the way her blonde ponytail fell in loose waves over one sculpted shoulder, or the way the cotton tank top stretched taut over her breasts. It was that goddamn familiarity, the way it felt like she belonged to me in a way that no one else ever had. I’d known her since we were kids, shared a bed for years before my parents finally kicked me out of their room and into the attic. Now, at twenty-two, she was still the one girl who could make my blood sing in my veins.
And tonight, she was the only girl I wanted.
John’s birthday party was supposed to be a casual affair – burgers, beer, and whatever football game was on. Nothing like the wild ragers we used to have back when we were both in high school. But the air in the cramped living room was thick with a different kind of tension. Every time John left the kitchen to refill his plate, his arm brushed against mine, and Jessica’s gaze would follow him, lingering on the tight muscle of his biceps.
I hated that.
I hated how easy it was to read the lust in her eyes, how she seemed to forget I was there at all when she watched him. It was like a switch flipped – she became oblivious to everything but his swagger, the way his faded jeans clung to his ass.
“Jessica,” I said, standing too close behind her, my voice low and deliberately rough. She jumped, her fingers fumbling over the controller. “Lost?”
She laughed, but it was tense, brittle. “No, just trying to beat this stupid game.”
“Let me see.” I leaned in, my breath hot on her neck. She didn’t move away. I could smell the vanilla from her shampoo mixed with something else – the faintest hint of something floral, like jasmine.
“No way,” she said, her voice tight.
I rested my hand on her shoulder, feeling the heat radiating through the thin cotton of her shirt. “Come on, let me show you how it’s done.”
She turned, her cheeks flushed, and I couldn’t help but notice the way the light caught the swell of her breasts. “You always were a show off.”
“Just because I’m good at everything,” I murmured, taking the controller from her hand. My fingers brushed against hers, sending a jolt of electricity straight to my groin. I didn’t break eye contact.
She swallowed hard, her gaze dropping to my mouth. “Maybe you could show me something else later.”
I grinned, feeling the heat bloom in my chest. “Maybe I will.”
The party raged on, fueled by cheap beer and John’s insistent playlist of early 2000s pop music. I kept glancing at Jessica, watching the way she giggled at something John had said, the way her head tilted back as she laughed, the way her hair cascaded down her back. Each time, the familiar ache returned, and I knew I couldn’t wait another second.
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