Alone with Ashley, Day 2 [mf][inc]

[Authors Note: I’m trying a semi-realistic, multi-episode story here that will only make sense if you’ve read Day 1 (link in comments). Some episodes might contain little or no sex, like this one, but we’ll see how it plays out. Comments, criticisms, support always welcome!]

*Oh man my head hurts so bad.* The pounding behind my eyes was like a bass drum keeping time with my heartbeat. My mouth was cotton, a reminder of the drinking the night before. I lied there for a minute, still, focusing on my breathing, preparing to open my eyes, when I heard soft breathing that wasn’t mine and I froze.

*Oh shit*. I tried to focus, to recall the night’s events, but my memories were fuzzy and scattershot. *Did Simone bring me home? Michelle?* I remembered wine coolers at Simone’s, had a vague recollection of Jell-O shots at Spilman’s house, fighting with Mark, but then…nothing but blurry, indistinct flashes.

The person next to me jostled slightly and let out a small snort. I squinted my eyes open despite the pain, and slowly, carefully, rolled onto my back as I needed to formulate possible excuses if things had gone wrong. *Sorry, I was really drunk. Sorry, you’re not really my type. Sorry, I have a boyfriend.* Except that last excuse was no longer true. I recalled the yelling and accusations and how Mark tossed out the word “virgin” as if it were a character flaw.

*”I don’t have time to waste on a fucking virgin.”*

I winced at the memory and flushed red with embarrassment at the thought. I slowly turned my head and steeled myself to face my shame.

It was Alex. My baby brother.

“Oh thank God,” I muttered softly, exhaling a breath I didn’t realize I held, “Thank you God.” I slowly crawled out from under the blanket and padded down the hall into the bathroom. After taking care of pressing toilet duties, I swallowed a few Advil and chased them with several glasses of water. I squinted at the bedraggled alien in the mirror: the mussed, stringy blond hair; the dried trails of mascara tears that painted my cheeks like prison bars; the too-small breasts that Mark once referred to as “puffy mushrooms.”

*Fuck him*

As I turned to go back to my room for much-needed sleep, I was nearly trampled by Alex, his lithe yet muscular body stopping him microseconds before crashing into me. His hands instinctively covered his groin when he saw me, but not before I caught a glimpse of his swollen boxers.

“Outta the way Ash gotta pee,” was all he said as he swerved around me and closed the bathroom door.

*Wow,* I marveled as he vanished into the bathroom, remembering how he used to be a gawky kid constructed of just elbows, knees, and ribs. *He’s not a little kid anymore,* then grinned when I thought about his bulge. *Bet he has fun with that!* At that thought though, goosebumps spread up my spine as bits of my memory began to coalesce like a half-remembered dream. *Was I yelling at Alex last night?*

And as I got back into bed and began to drift, my last thought was *Why WAS Alex in my bed?*

————————————————————————————–

Several hours later, I woke up feeling refreshed and wandered downstairs for breakfast. Alex had already eaten, pancakes apparently based on the numerous bowls, cups and measuring devices coated with pancake batter and strewn about the kitchen. I followed the trail into the family room where Alex lounged in his pajamas, scarfing down banana pancakes and watching The Price is Right.

“Make me any?” I asked and leapt over the back of the couch to join Alex, who offhandedly tossed me one.

“So…what happened when I got home last night? Were you in my room or something?”

Alex continued to stare at the television. “Um, not much really. You came home pretty upset, got mad at me, then…” He paused briefly, “you passed out. I put you to bed and stayed to make sure you didn’t die because Mom and Dad would be pretty pissed if you did.”

“Ha ha. Why was I mad at you?”

“Well, uh,” Alex stammered, “I kinda made fun of you.”

“About what?” I strained to remember, but nothing came.

Alex let out a little laugh, but continued to face the television. “Your boobs,” he replied.

I felt a wash of goosebumps travel up my spine as flashes of the previous night revealed themselves: Mark making out on the patio with Emily…My screamed obscenities and embarrassed departure…Finding Alex in my room…”. The broken memories continued and I felt cold.

“Oh my God…did we…?”

Alex continued to silently stare at the TV, which told me everything I needed to know.

“Oh shit,” I began, “I’m so sorry! I was really drunk and I broke up with Mark because I’m just a stupid virgin and fuck! Everything just sucks right now!” Tears streamed down my face as I realized my life had come crashing down around me.

“Woah, hey Ash, it’s okay!” Alex said as moved next to me and put his arm around my shoulder. “I mean it was kinda crazy, but it’s not like we were naked or anything. It was kinda like we were wrestling, like when we were little.”

“No, no,” I groaned, “I remember; I was grinding on you and I made you grab my tits. I’m so sorry…”

Alex pulled me close and held me as my body shuddered with sobs. He stroked my hair and silently held me, allowing my grief and embarrassment to pour out. Although he was my baby brother, Alex had always been there for me and I was especially glad he was there. I looked up at him through my teary eyes, saw him smiling at me, judgment fee, and realized that right then he was the only man in my life who cared about me.

*I love him. I love him so fucking much.*

And so I kissed him.

I leaned my head up and planted one right on his lips, my lips slightly parted, as I shifted my body toward him. My tongue slipped out and touched his lips, eager to be allowed entrance. My emotions were a confused miasma of sadness, fear, love, embarrassment and lust and I wanted, no, *needed* to show Alex how much I loved him. I pressed my body against his, my lust welling up.

Alex leaned back, his eyes wide with confusion, his face turning a deep shade of vermillion. “Ash…I, um…I don’t know…” he stammered, clearly disgusted with me. I pulled away in embarrassment and stood up.

“Alex I’m so…I’m so…” but I couldn’t even delivery an apology I was so mortified. I dashed upstairs to my bedroom, slammed the door shut and threw myself on my bed.

*What the fuck is wrong with me?* I wondered as I continued to sob. *I’m so fucking pathetic!* I buried my face in my pillow, trying to hide my shame from the world, my tears drenching my pillow. My fingers found my pussy lips in desperation but I was so miserable, I couldn’t focus so I lay there just wishing the world would end.

Then, a light knock on the door, followed by Alex poking his head through the crack in the doorway.

“Can I come in?”

Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/6w11i3/alone_with_ashley_day_2_mfinc