[INCEST] S O M E T H I N G E L S E. My brother sniffs my panties. . .

The moment was cauterized onto her mind, shock, panic, embarrassment & something different all at once. They all circled in her mind & wrapped a warped fist around her chest as she tried to console herself,

“I, uh,

Aaron! -shit!”

Jenifer cursed him & the whole ordeal, her face burning bright red, otherwise mostly pallid, it generally rested on the side of bitchy but right now it was seven shades of shocked. There he was, sitting on his bed, a lacy pair of her unmentionables balled up & wrapped around his fist, his pants were around his ankles, hand on his gear.

For a moment her mouth hung low, her eyes losing the panic, losing the frantic sort of offense, she covered gob with long fingernails, painted black “I uh, was js’. . .” she turned to her left and picked up a basket of dirty laundry that she’d offered to do for him, as per usual – mom couldn’t help, Jen was happy to.

Quickly she exited, hiding her face in her shoulder, trying not to stare. . . the damage was done though; she’d seen it all.

Her heart was pounding so furiously she could feel it in her ears, swelling & throbbing, it was hard for her. . . she could only imagine how mortified Aaron must have been, but fuck! Didn’t he deserve to be? What was he doing with her panties? -she knew they weren’t particularly clean one’s either, something that almost embarrassed her as much as the other mounting facts.

She’d caught her brother, her brother who she adored with all her heart, doted on. . . maybe a little too much, her little brother she practically raised in their mother & estranged father’s absence. It was almost too much to really parse, that didn’t stop her from visually obsessing on it. Aaron was strong, rail thin but strong as shit, he was about as tall as her if not taller. . . he was cute as fuck, she’d even tried to set him up once or twice but it never stuck, friend’s sisters & younger coworkers.

Really, with all her heart Jen did want her brother to be happy. -so, she compartmentalized it for now, slinking down the hall toward the laundry room –beet red.

Her chest sunk and climbed under her top; she was bear beneath, boy shorts sagging around her pasty thighs.

“What the fuck Aaron. . .” she finally said it, groaning a little, shouldering the wall, propping herself up. . . she didn’t know if it was just, raw, like. . . animal attraction, the idea of sniffing panties, the smell & sensation of soft fabric. Or maybe it was something less innocent, not that there was anything innocent about stealing panties from anyone, let alone her. Her lip puffed out, she wondered how many times it had happened, if this was the first or the first time she’d caught him.

. . . was it her fault? The way she doted on him constantly, how physical she could be. . .

Jen felt something swelling inside her, something she couldn’t explain or explain away. Something regretful, her mind still caught in the moment no matter how she tried to console it away, dumping out the load of soiled laundry into the washer.

Assorted colours, lights & darks. . . he was such a dork. How many times did she have to tell him? He didn’t even turn out his jeans. Her long fingers reached into the drum of the washer and pulled out a pair of jeans with a pensive expression, the boxer brief’s still inside. -she dropped them and shuddered for the thought & feeling, the touch of his own undergarments, fingertips grazing something that had been on his intimate person never really phazed her previously but he’d ruined that for her, it took on a new meaning now.

She pulled out a shirt, looking at it with a creased brow, bunching it up, feeling the fabric in her hands, over her wrists. . .

“This is so weird!” exclaiming in the unfinished laundry room, stud bare walls doing little to muffle her frustration before she squinted so tight it almost hurt. “Smmmmmf!!!” she snorted the scent of her brother’s dried, stale body odour against her better judgement. It smelled salty & harsh, a man’s scent, not a boy. Was Aaron a man now?

It wasn’t unpalatable, it wasn’t. . . it wasn’t anything, it was like wearing a boyfriend’s shirt around her pillow. She’d done that plenty, or borrowed a sweater to sleep in. . . she progressed back to the pants with a puffed out lip, dark, sleep-sore eyes spying the underwear inside. Her hand plucked them out, draping them down in front of her face with two fingers.

She groaned a little, a certain thrill in what she was doing – only because she knew it was so fucking wrong. . .

. . . she couldn’t do it. Could she?

The article fell back into the washer, though she did retrieve a swearer, sheepishly bunching it up and looking over her shoulder through the doorframe, Aaron was probably still in his room, Mom still sleeping. . . shuddering a little. The washer whirred to life, water filling the drum in sputtering belches, the pressure in this old house a nightmare.

Jen wrapped herself up in his sweater, it still smelled like him. . . like his soap, like his sweat, it was soft, large on her, even though they were roughly the same height & gate, boyfriend fits were like that.

Turning into her own room, she sat on the edge of her bed with the door closed, hugging herself. A hand did sneak down her body, snaking over her breasts, down her tummy, feeling herself. . . knowing she was warm, knowing she was ooey-gooey-goodness-gracious. There was a lot of shame in there with her, a sweltering cloud of it & something else. . .

. . . Sometime later she returned to Aaron’s door, leaving a basket of fresh pressed clothing, folded. Something else.

It wasn’t like she was short on them. A peace treaty, an olive branch.

s o m e t h I n g e l s e.

The boy shorts she’d been wearing when she stepped in on him, pastel blue, slack, silky. . . soaked through the crotch and stained with an unmistakable trail of once frothy goo. Proud of an orgasm wasn’t a concept she was familiar of, but there were fewer in her life that felt so wrong. So wrong &. . .

Well: Something else.

“Laundry’s done, bro!” her footfalls heard leaving down the hall as she went off to cook dinner for them, breakfast for mom.

Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/zjq0yg/incest_s_o_m_e_t_h_i_n_g_e_l_s_e_my_brother

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