This is an extrapolation of a roleplay I am currently engaged in with /u/pewpew52. Credit is due to him for the opening back-and-forth!
Story continued in comments.
Having to put with Alex’s presence in the house was killing me. He was my step-brother, two years my junior, and to say that we didn’t get on would be an understatement. For years we had lived only to frustrate and torment each other, and though we had both moved out of home we still found it difficult to get along with one another. He’d made my life hell for a couple of years in particular, and I wasn’t of the mind to forgive him. So why, I hear you ask, was I enduring his presence once more? I shall tell you.
For the preceding eight months Alex’s father, Andrew, and my mother had been travelling around Europe, and we had both taken time off of work to greet them upon their return. We were to spend the week in their house, catch up, and hear all about their travels. Well… that was the plan. Typical of my mercurial mother, though, she and Andrew extended their stay by a week, which now left myself and Alex alone in the house together, and meant that I wouldn’t get to catch up with my mother for anything more than a weekend.
I spent the week doing my darnedest not to let him get to me, with only varying degrees of success. To make matters worse, I was incessantly horny, and—being the only male around—Alex somehow wormed his way into my fantasies, something which made me all the more irritable. I couldn’t resist getting under his skin from time to time, and each time his anger flared I found myself fantasising about him pushing me up against a wall, hitching my skirt up and forcing himself inside me. Though I was quick to scold myself for allowing such thoughts to enter my head, they returned time and again over the first five days we spent together.
By the sixth day I had taken to avoiding him for as long as possible. We ate breakfast together in relative silence (pun unintended), and I retreated to my room to lounge around online. Around lunchtime I decided that I’d put off showering for long enough, and crossed the landing to the bathroom. I stripped off, stepped into the shower, and soon the coursing of warm water over my pale, sensitive flesh had me fantasising about my step-brother once more. I tried to push the thoughts from my head, but there was something so damn arousing about the thought of his tall, masculine frame pressing me up against the wall of the shower, his naked flesh sliding against mine as he took me from behind.
For fuck's sake, Clarissa, I thought to myself. Get it together.
I was emerging from the shower when I heard his voice through the bathroom door. He couldn't find his keys, and from the tone in his voice he seemed to suspect that I had something to do with their disappearance. As if I—his loving step-sister—would do something as childish as to hide his keys. Oh, that's right: I did.
"How should I know?!" I called back. "They're your keys! I'm not your mom for Christ's sake!" "Yeah, well fuck you too!"
I must explain one thing: Alex's mom died when he was very young, and it was something that he'd always been sensitive about. Yes, I know it was unbecoming of me to intentionally strike such a nerve, but you have to understand that Alex and I bring out the worst in each other. I'm not always such a bitch.
After he'd stomped off downstairs, I reemerged from the bathroom clad only in a blue towel that covered me from breast to mid-thigh, my arms and thighs glistening softly with the same water that lent my long, dark hair an extra sheen. No sooner was back in my room—the same which had been mine when I'd lived here as a teenager, and with which my mother had never had the heart to do anything but preserve for me—than Alex was stomping back up the stairs again.
"Clarissa! I know you have my keys, damn it! Where are they?!" "Calm down!" I called back through the door. "Why don't you make yourself a cup of tea or something; it'll help you cool off! I think I left a cup out for you earlier!"
'Left a cup out' was less accurate than 'I hid your keys under a cup', but hey, the cup was sitting right in the middle of the kitchen table, and I wasn't the one who was so dumb as not to find them. I guess the hint helped him, though, as five minutes later I heard the front door closing, and when I made my way down to the kitchen later on, both cup and keys were nowhere to be found.
He was gone for maybe an hour, during which time I dried my straight, black hair, and slipped into a lace thong and black-and-white dress that clung nicely to my slender hips. Its lower portion—which extended to just above my knee—was solid black, and from the waist up it was white with black hoops. When Alex did return I found him to be wearing a white, long-sleeve cotton shirt, and faded blue jeans. His curly brown hair was as messy as ever, and he turned his green eyes on me with a degree of hostility upon entering the kitchen. Neither of us said a word, and I felt like I had gotten the upper hand on him in this morning's tête-à-tête. At 6'3", my step-brother had a good eight inches on me in height, but he wasn't a violent guy; our duels were always intellectual battles, or—at the worst of times—a trade-off of insults.
He sat down to eat, and—realising I could do with a bite too—I stood to retrieve a ready-made salad from the fridge. It was then that Alex surprised me by breaking the silence.
"Jesus Christ, Clarissa. Do you mind wearing a fucking bra when I'm here? I don't need to see your tits flopping around while I'm trying to eat."
"Eh… how about you keep your eyes off my tits," I retorted. "Would that work? And stop looking at my ass."
Now, with the fridge door open, blocking him from my view, I couldn't actually tell whether or not he was looking at my ass, but I wasn't going to let him comment on my breasts without some kind of payback, and I knew I could rile him up.
"Don't flatter yourself," was his response, but I was sure I was getting under his skin again. And so, after I'd taken my place at the table, I decided it was time to up the ante. Don't judge me—I already admitted that Alex brings out the worst in me!
I sat at the end of the table, to Alex's left, so that we were sitting at 90º to each other. I then proceeded to 'fix' my top, adjusting it so that my breasts were perfectly even, and removing as much slack from around them as possible. I didn't look at Alex at all while I did this, but I could see in my peripheral vision that I'd gotten his attention. I smirked on the inside, but the thrill of winding him up came at a price: once again I began to feel aroused.
Still not satisfied with the extent of my teasing, I began to eat my salad in the most provocative manner that I could without it being obviously intentional. I slowly wrapped my soft lips around the mixed greens, and practically sucked them off of the fork. Eventually, it got to him, though even I couldn't have predicted his reaction.
"Just stop it!" he yelled, blinking in surprise at his own outburst. My eyes widened, my gaze flashing to meet his, and my lips hung half-open around another forkful of green leaves. I raised an eyebrow and slid the fork from between my lips—no less sensually than before, I might add—and contemplated my response as I chewed and swallowed.
"Stop what, my dear brother?"
"You know what! You come down here wearing that dress without a fucking bra, and now you're practically giving a blowjob to your fork! Just stop it. It's not fucking funny."
"Haha. Uh… Ok," I replied, acting as if I had no idea what he was talking about. "Jesus Christ," he muttered. "I'd forgotten what a fucking slut you are."
Again, I have to explain something. I do not like being called a slut, especially not by Alex. It all goes back to when we were teenagers. I had come out to my parents, and had just about gotten to the stage where I was comfortable experimenting with boys. Well, I say 'comfortable', but that's something of a relative term. That's neither here nor there, though. Alex had gotten word of my early forays into the world of sex, and had been quick to call me 'slut'. I didn't like it then, and I don't like it now.
"Oh, please," I snapped back, my eyes narrowing aggressively. "You wish I was a slut. I wouldn't fuck you if your life depended on it!"
With that, I slammed my fork down and stood—the legs of my chair scraping against the tiled floor—and stormed passed him towards the living room. I know: dramatic, right? I regretted it instantly, though it wasn't until I reached the couch that I really began to regret what I'd said. I wouldn't fuck you if your life depended on it… Where had that come from? Had fantasies of being fucked by my little step-brother really burrowed so deep within me? Apparently they had. Frustrated and irritated, I threw myself onto the couch, but Alex wasn't done yet. He'd gotten under my skin this time, and he smelled blood.
"Just for the record," he began, fucking swaggering into the living room, "I don't have to wish for you to be something you already are. I think Tom Johnson would back me up on that, don't you?"
FUCK! If my blood was boiling at the mention of the very first boy I'd given a handjob to, it was when I saw the smirk on Alex's face. How dare he? That was the first time I'd ever touched a boy, and he dared to call me slut over that? I snapped.
"Oh what the fuck do you know, Alex?!" I yelled, standing bolt upright. Then Alex said something that shocked me. I never had learned how he found out about me and Tom, but I was about to.
"Oh Tom," he began, imitating a girl's voice. "Can I see it? Oh my god, it's so big!" I think my jaw must have hit the floor. He'd been listening.
"What? Did you forget how thin the walls in this house are? Oh Tom," he continued, imitating my voice again. "Can I touch it?"
Gritting my teeth to contain my anger, I stormed over to Alex and shoved him full in the chest. He staggered back a step, but caught one of my hands by the wrist and pulled me to him. I pulled back, and shoved at his chest with my free hand, but he was too strong. I hit his chest and then I was spinning; he was pressing me up against the wall.
"Get off!" I yelled, but he ensnared my other wrist and pinned both of them above my head, sneering down at me from above. "Now, now… Be nice! Say that you're sorry."
I can still recall the sensation of the wall, firm against my back, and of the vulnerability I felt with my hands held fast above my head. It was everything I had fantasised about, and more. I struggled to free myself, but Alex pressed his body against mine, and as I squirmed I felt a distinct bulge in his jeans. For a moment, I froze. My eyes grew wide and I gazed up at him. I… What?
"Say you're sorry, sis." "Sorry for what?" I spat back, snapping out of my momentary trance, though the confusion remained. Why was he aroused? Had my teasing really been that effective, or was there more to it? For all my fantasising, the thought that my step-brother might actually want to fuck me was terrifying, at least at first. "You know for what. You think it's funny to tease me like that? You always think you're so fucking clever. How about I fuck you and we'll see how clever you are."
With that, Alex ground his hips firmly into my stomach, and I squirmed against him. My emotions had never been so fluid, and just hearing those words—how about I fuck you—transmuted my apprehension into arousal. I didn’t know what to think, but while I was racking my brain for a suitable response, my body was still writhing, grinding against his erection.
“Jesus, you actually want it, don’t you?” “What?! No, I… I…” “You do, you little slut. You fucking want me to fuck you. Admit it!”
My words caught in my throat. I looked up at him wide-eyed and open-mouthed but my words wouldn’t come. I turned away in shame, but he ground his erection against my stomach again and I gasped. He was right, and I was doing nothing to deny it. I glanced up at him, and his eyes were wide—almost incredulous—but tinged with desire. His hands shifted so that only one was needed to pin my wrists to the wall, and one dropped to grasp my breast. I gasped again—whimpering this time—and his thumb brushed my nipple, now stiff and erect.
My hips moved, my growing arousal the fuelling my body into waving like a lick of flame, and I felt hot. Alex’s hand kneaded my breast and teased my nipple, and then it was dropping, fumbling with my dress, and finally sliding up my thigh to grasp one bare cheek of my ass. God it felt good to be groped by him, and right then—for that very reason—I hated him all the more.
“Stop…” A weak command, my moaning tone pleading with him to do anything but stop. “Haha! Why would I do that? So you can laugh at me again? Fuck you. I’ve had enough of your teasing, Clarissa. I know you want me to fuck you—admit it!” “No, please…” My hips arched, and I pressed my body against the bulge in his jeans, my own arousal now fully inflamed beneath my dress. “All right. You want me to stop? Fine.”
With that, Alex let go of my wrists and stepped back, and I could do nothing but stare dumbfounded at him. It took me a moment to realise that he’d called my bluff, and god damn it if he didn't know it. He sneered at me, practically daring me to speak, or leave, or slap his face. I wanted to do the latter, but I was too stunned to do anything other than stand and stare.
"I'm going to ask you one more time, Clarissa. Do you want me to fuck you?"
Parts 2 and 3 in comments.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/2l4hkh/love_to_hate_mtg_hatefuck
*PART 2* __________ My eyes narrowed, and I grit my teeth again. I *hate* losing, and I was completely lost now. I wanted him—I needed him—and he knew it. *God fucking DAMN you, Alex.* Somehow, I managed to pry myself from the wall and storm out of the room, but not before my face cracked and blushed. Tears ran down my cheeks as I broke from a march into a run, leaving the downstairs and my shit of a brother behind me. I slammed the door of my room behind me, and buried my face in my pillow, internally yelling at myself to get it together. Alex barely gave me five minutes. "Clarissa?" "Go away!" "Clarissa, come on." Alex almost sounded sympathetic as he opened my door, and I could only turn and snap at him. "GO AWAY!" "Why? Because you’re ashamed? Look, if you want me to fuck you I’ll fuck you. No shame here. I know you want me, Clarissa." For a moment I could only stare at him; I was confused, or conflicted. I *did* want him to fuck me, but I didn’t want him to be *him.* I hated him right then. I even told him so. "God, I hate you." "Haha! Good; I hate you too. Come on, what do you want to do? Sit around in silence and hate each other? Fight? We’ve still got another two days until Dad and Melanie get back." Here he closed the door behind him. "Why don’t we do *one* thing that we might enjoy?" I couldn’t tell if he was serious, or if it was all another game to him. I still don’t know. All I know is that he approached me and I didn’t tell him to go away anymore; I simply glared at him from my bed, and when he pulled his shirt off over his head I must have devoured his body with my eyes, for he grinned down at me. "See? I know what you want. Do you’ve any fucking idea what it’s like living with you? Every fucking day you’re shaking your ass or your tits in my face." He grinned, and I actually laughed: a short, punctuated laugh, but a laugh nonetheless. Now *that* I know was a game, and I lost that too. For a moment I actually thought he was being nice, and in that moment I was weak. Alex popped open the button of his jeans, and in one motion he pushed them and his underwear to the floor. My eyes widened, fixating upon his stiff, erect cock, protruding from a nest of short, trimmed pubic hair. He didn’t speak, but—stepping out of his clothes—he moved to the side of the bed and reached a hand out. It found the back of my head, and I let him guide me towards his cock. Looking back, I recognise how powerless I was to my own desires in that moment, and without objection I opened my lips and took him in my mouth. "Ohhhh, fuck… Clarissa… Mmmph, yes… Suck it… Mmm, that’s a good little slut; suck that cock." I still hated that word—I still hated him—but there was no going back now. I was desperately horny, and the sensation of his warm, rigid member sliding between my lips and along my tongue only made me want more. My cheeks collapsed and I sucked upon the tip of his dick, bobbing my head as his hand guided my head back and forth. I couldn’t look at him, but I didn’t need to. I feel as ashamed now as I did then—perhaps more so—but god damn it if I wasn’t aroused. As I sucked him off, Alex’s hand began to wander my slender body, snaking its way up my thigh and under my dress, kneading my ass and teasing my thong. My hips moved to his touch and I moaned around him, and still his cock slid in and out of my warm, wet mouth. "Have you got any lube in here?" he asked bluntly, exchanging hands at the back of my head so that he could rummage through the drawers of my dresser. I moaned around him and pulled my head back, but he held it firm in his hand. Three drawers down, he found what he was looking for—hey, I wasn’t going to a week without enjoying my alone time—and promptly ordered me to take off my underwear. By now I’d been straining against the black lace for too long, and it was no small relief to free myself of the garment. Pulling my lips away from his cock, I rolled onto my back, reached under my dress, and pushed my thong down my thighs, at length tossing it to the floor. "Mmm, there’s a good little slut," Alex chimed, smirking to himself as he gazed down at me, and ran a hand up my thigh once more. "I’m not your slut, you ass hat." "Haha! Are you sure? Coz it sure seems like you are." Before I could object again, Alex took my engorged womanhood in his hand and squeezed, taking me completely by surprise. I had no idea he would be so comfortable with it, but he seemed more intent on my gasping face than on whatever was between my legs. "Turn over." Biting my lower lip, I glared up at my step-brother, but I did exactly as I was told. He then hitched my dress up, and bared my round, firm little ass. I heard him hum in approval as he skirted its contours with a hand, and I gasped again as he delivered a sharp, fast slap to one cheek. His finger ran along the valley of my *derrière*, teasing my entrance with a light touch that made my toes curl. *Goddammit,* I thought, despite everything. *Why him, of all people? Why do I want to fuck HIM?* There was little that I could do about it now—little I would do about it now—I wanted him. I wanted him inside me desperately. While we’d never really been brother and sister, we had grown up together, and the associated taboo only excited me all the more. I still despised him, but, right then, nothing could have been hotter than to submit my body to him. The sound of the lube opening served to emphasise the imminence of what we were about to do, and I let my eyes shut in anticipation. Again his finger ran between my cheeks, but this time it was cold, and slick. I shuddered and moaned softly; my toes curled and I pushed my hips back against his finger, which found my tight little hole and circled it, before pressing into me. My entrance gave way, I groaned, and Alex’s finger slipped into me. For the time-being, not a word was uttered. I moaned and groaned, pushing my hips back against his probing digit, and he fingered me, raking my inner walls and exploring me from within. His finger slid in and out of me, circled—stretching me—and I moaned again. My hips continued to move as I slowly fucked myself upon his digit, and soon I felt a second pressing at my entrance, slipping easily into me to stretch me out further. “Ohh… Fuck…” Alex chuckled at my moans. “Yeah, you fucking like that, don’t you? I’m going to fuck you good: niiice and deep. I’m going to make you mine. You hear me, you little slut?” “Mmmph… I’m not your fucking slut,” I retorted, turning my head and glaring at him over my shoulder. “Yeah… We’ll see about that.” He grinned, and pressed his fingers deeper inside of me. Their tips found my G-spot and I let out a deep groan, my ass clenching around his digits, my hips pushing back and grinding upon them. I felt my fluids being stirred—as though I were being milked—and a wet patch began to form upon the sheets beneath me. Again his hand came down sharply on my ass cheek, and again I felt myself clench around his probing fingers. I was completely and utterly at his mercy, and I hated how much I liked it.
*PART 3* __________ Soon I felt him slide his fingers out of me, and for a moment I felt desperately empty. I craved to be filled—to feel myself stretched, and to have my G-spot stimulated once more—and I did not have long to wait. Rolling onto my side, I watched Alex squeeze a little lube into his hand, and spread it along the length of his cock. He was a good size—close to seven inches—though not the biggest I’d ever seen. Ironically, that award still belonged to Tom. The very first cock I’d seen was still the biggest, and it would take something quite out of the normal to change that. “On your belly,” Alex commanded, grasping my ankle and tugging me half off the bed. My toes found the floor, my body bent at the waist over the bed’s edge, and then he was hiking my dress up again, baring my naked behind to his greedy eyes. One hand pulled a cheek to the side, and my tight, quivering pink entrance winked up at him. The next thing I felt was the sensation of his warm, fleshy head between my cheeks, pressing against my hole. I drew in a breath, and bit my lip. “Ohhhh, fuck… Clarissa…” Alex groaned as he sank into me, and I groaned too as I felt myself stretch around his cock, my toes curling against the carpeted floor. “You’re so fucking tight. How did a slut like you stay so fucking tight?” “Nnnngh… Fuck you, Alex.” “Oh, please do,” he laughed, steadily pressing his entire length into me. His cock head pressed up against my G-spot, and my hips squirmed. My chest was tight, my breath short, and my ass wonderfully, wonderfully full. “You’re such a fucking tool.” “Yeah, well you’re still a slut,” he moaned, pulling back slowly to press himself into me again. There was something obscenely arousing about being fucked by someone I despised, and in place of intimacy, insults seemed to serve just as well. “I always knew you were. Did you suck off the Johnson brothers? I know you fooled around with both of them.” That got a reaction from me: I whipped my hand through the air to slap Alex’s thigh, but he only laughed and ground his hips against my buttocks, pressing firmly against my G-spot, and drawing another gasp from my parted lips. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he teased, drawing back and filling me once more. “I fucking *hate* you.” “Really?” He drew back again, leaning over me and press his hands onto my shoulders, pinning me to the bed. “Do you fuck everyone you hate?” As he spoke, he drove his hips into me, his stiff cock shunting up against my G-spot much more firmly than before. I gasped loudly, and my ass clenched around his shaft, and as he held himself inside me I couldn’t help but press back against him, and grind my ass into his hips. When he next drew back and thrust into me, he fell into a smooth rhythm, sliding in and out of me, pinning me to the bed as he took me from behind. I heard his own breath grow heavier, and felt my chest grow tight. My breath came in short, ragged bursts, and I never did answer his question. The only sound in the room apart from our breathing was the occasional creaking of the bed beneath me, and the moans which peppered the air. I guess Alex wanted to see more of me, for he soon took one hand from my shoulder and slid down the zipper at the back of my dress. He leaned into me—his cock pressing firmly up against my G-spot once more as I writhed and moaned beneath him—and ground his hips against my ass. When he drew back, he withdrew fully from my tight little cavity, leaving me gaping and empty. “Turn over.” “Why?” I asked venomously, though even as I spoke I was turning, doing as he wished. “So I can tell you what a shit you are to your face.” “Sure,” he answered, peeling my dress away from my breasts, and ogling them. “Plus I like to look a slut in the eyes when I fuck her.” This time I did slap his face, and though it stunned him for a moment, he soon grinned. There was malicious kind of enjoyment in that grin, and he quickly stripped me of my dress and tossed it aside. “You’re going to regret doing that, you little cunt.” He grasped my thighs and raised them, pulling my ass towards his body. Anger, or hatred, or something akin to those shone in his eyes, and this time when he brought his cock to my entrance there was little but roughness to it. He drove himself deep inside of me, and I gasped loudly. His hand closed around my throat, and my eyes opened wide, my hands gripping his wrist. Again he thrust firmly up into me, and again I gasped, my ass clenching, squeezing his cock as he held it within me. “I should tie you up and let the whole fucking neighbourhood come in and fuck you,” he spat, pulling his hips back to slam into me. A loud slap sounded as our bodies collided, followed quickly by another, and another. My toes curled, my back arched, and I gasped and groaned with each thrust of his hips. “Then leave you here and let your mom find you, so she knows what a fucking slut her daughter is.” I could only gasp and glare open-mouthed at my step-brother as he began to ravage my asshole, thrusting quickly and firmly into me, slamming against my G-spot, but missing it sometimes. Deep within me, pain and pleasure were mixed, though the more he fucked me the more the former bled into the latter. I had realised by now that he wasn’t actually going to choke me out, and dared to remove one hand from his wrist and drop it between my legs. Quickly, Alex snatched it away, and no sooner had his hand left my throat than I found my own hands pinned above my head. “Oh, enjoying ourselves now, are we? Sluts don’t get to enjoy themselves: they get fucked, and that’s it. You want my cum inside you, you little slut?” “Nnngh… fuck… you…” I managed to get out, and no sooner had I spoken those words than my head fell back, my lips parting to release a long groan that shuddered with each thrust of Alex’s hips. His cock plundered my ass, quickly and repeatedly delving deep within me, and I could feel my juices building. My erect womanhood tingled with pleasurable sensations, but I knew penetration alone would not send me over the edge. Alex wasn’t going to let me cum, and somehow that just turned me on more. He was treating me like a slut, and I was liking it. “Ugh! You’re such a *cunt!*” I yelled, my voice strained, my chest tight. His breath was short now, his body glistening with sweat as he fucked me, slapping his hips against my ass and the backs of my thighs. I struggled against his grip but he held my wrists firm. My back arched, my torso twisted, but I couldn’t escape his hold on me. My whole body shook as he careered into my ass, slamming up against my G-spot, pushing me closer and closer to the ecstasy I knew he wouldn’t allow me. And then… “Ohhhh fuck… Mmmph… I’m gonna cum… I’m going to cum inside you, slut.” My brow was wrinkled, my bottom lip clenched between my teeth, but Alex was in another world. I saw the pleasure building on his face, felt his cock driving into me again and again, and suddenly his hips jerked; he thrust deep within me and cried out ecstatically. His thighs twitched, and his eyes clenched shut—his mouth gaping—as he spilled rope after rope of his thick seed inside of me. Caught up in the moment, I couldn’t keep myself from rolling my hips and clenching my ass around his spasming cock. Only when he loosened his grip on my wrists and began to pant—only when the throes of his orgasm receded—did I scold myself for increasing his pleasure. Oh, but what did it matter? He wanted a slut for a sister, and I’d played the part perfectly. Had I enjoyed it? Absolutely. I didn’t think it was impossible to love and hate something as strongly as I loved and hated being fucked by my younger brother, but god—fucking—*damn* it was it hot. Alex seemed to lighten up a little after cumming; he laughed and smiled, and gave me only a light, playful slap on the face. I didn’t even react, instead panting, my breasts rising and falling, as he withdrew from my ass. Neither of us knew what to say, and in the end he simply gathered his clothes and left me upon my bed, legs dangling over the edge, my ass gaping and leaking his cum. I’d just been fucked by the step-brother I so loved to despise, and it was the single most arousing experience of my life. I trailed my fingertips over my sensitive, swollen womanhood—so desperate for release—and it twitched in response. Soon, I thought. Soon. I needed a moment, though. I felt stunned, and I couldn’t help but wonder what would happen when I went downstairs and had to face Alex. We could never undo this, nor could we forget it. How would things change? Would they change? I was still pondering this—was still hard and craving release—when my bedroom door opened again… __________ *Le fin.*