*Sorry about the late postings. Here’s something special: a 6,897-word chapter! Enjoy!*
——
Pyotr felt conflicted.
On one side, he was constantly elated by the discovery which Jeremy had shared with him. It was an amazing ability, and just observing the interactions between time, inertia, and gravity had answered hundreds of mysteries about the nature of the universe. He had confirmed more theories in less than a week than in his entire school career prior.
On the other, he felt disturbed by the amount of power the Glove represented. In the days since Jeremy had given him the glove, they had been spending a lot of time together, but Jeremy’s use of his power was a little disturbing.
The day after giving him his Glove, Jeremy and Pyotr had been in class together. It felt like a needless torture, having to sit and listen to a lecture on concepts he already knew, especially simple things like logic structures, but he didn’t want to let his enthusiasm for his research affect his grades.
They sat near the back in the lecture hall, looking down over the heads of the other students at the professor, who was writing a flowchart on the whiteboard. Pyotr was copying the chart into his own notes when some movement caught his eye.
One of the girls in the next row down was slumped low over her desk, looking embarrassed as she picked at her clothing. It looked like she had some sort of bra malfunction and was trying to put things back in place. Pyotr watched, distracted and a little turned on by the thought of the girl shoving and squeezing what looked like a very nice pair of breasts right there in the classroom.
Nearby, another girl suddenly did the same thing: blushing, she leaned forward, stood up her open textbook as a shield against most eyes, and pushed her hand down the top of her shirt to stuff herself back into her bra. Then another girl slid down low in her chair, and another, until at least a dozen girls were messing with their bras.
Jeremy chuckled, and Pyotr shot him a glance, which was met with a wink and a grin. Sighing, Pyotr returned his attention to the lecture, but Jeremy was apparently still bored, because the girls in the class kept shuffling and moving in their seats. Pyotr watched as one particularly well-endowed girl’s breasts suddenly fell down on her desk with a dull thud, making her gasp in surprise and, he assumed, a little pain.
Jeremy snickered and poked Pyotr, gesturing for him to look in his backpack. Inside was a large, lacy pink bra, which presumably had been on the girl before her unfortunate impact.
“What are you going?” Pyotr whispered.
“Just having a little fun,” Jeremy replied. “Come on, this class is boring as shit.”
“Didn’t you have enough ‘fun’ yesterday with the cafe girl?”
Jeremy smirked. “Not by a long shot,” he said. “But I caught up with her after her shift was over.”
Pyotr glared at him and shook his head, then stopped time. He dug the bra out of Jeremy’s bag and walked down a couple rows to where the braless girl was sitting, leaning way back in her chair so nobody would notice the lower position of her previously anti-gravity bosom.
Even without the apparently magical bra, she was very pretty. She had blonde hair in pigtails and tanned skin, and while her upper body was obscured by a loose sweater, her hips and legs were hugged by light-colored denim that looked almost painted on.
Pyotr straightened her gently and lifted her arms, then pulled the sweater up and off of her. He tried very hard to ignore the flutter in his chest and the shifting in his pants as her tan lines told the story of a summer spent in a very small bikini.
Putting a bra onto a girl, as it turns out, was a little harder than taking one off of her. Pyotr wanted to respect the girl’s privacy, but he found once he got the thing onto her arms that he really had to see what he was doing to get the cups in position. He slid the cups down onto her breasts, which had apparently been barely covered by the bikini, since the only untanned area was a small triangle centered on each of her pink nipples, and then tried to clip it closed behind her back.
Of course, things are never as simple as they seem. As soon as Pyotr pulled the clasps together, the bra slid up off the girl’s breasts. Pyotr sighed. Why couldn’t girls just wear clothing that fit them?
“Pardon me, miss,” he said quietly, reaching his hands under her breasts and lifting them into place. They were warm and soft, and his palms itched with the urge to squeeze and rub them, but instead he gently pushed them inward and placed the bra over them once more.
It took a little rubbing and pushing before the girl looked like she was fitting into her cups again, but it was necessary, since otherwise she’d spring forward as soon as time started and probably attract even more attention. By the time everything was back in place and her sweater back on, Pyotr was aching to strip her down once more.
Steeling his resolve, he instead turned on his heels and returned to his seat. When he started time again, the girl looked confused but relieved.
Jeremy rolled his eyes. “Spoil-sport,” he whispered. “No matter, what I really wanted was these.”
“What- Jeremy!” Pyotr whispered angrily. There in Jeremy’s hand was a pair of panties that matched the bra he had just put on the girl. Snatching it away, Pyotr glared at his friend. “Stop that,” he said, and stopped time once more.
“Once more, miss, I am sorry,” Pyotr said, gently lifting the girl out of her seat and suspending her mid-air in the aisle. He unfastened her jeans and peeled them off of her, then started sliding the panties, which turned out to only be a thong, up her legs.
Pyotr tried not to look directly at the girl, although he had most definitely seen an exciting patch of blonde hair. “I do not know how you can find this comfortable,” he muttered, tugging the waistband up until the string buried itself between her firm ass-cheeks. He turned her around to make sure it was in place, then cursed.
There were words written on the girl’s ass in thick black marker. One cheek read “PUBLIC SLUT” and the other declared her a “FREE FUCK”. Pyotr looked back up at Jeremy’s face and almost thought he saw him grin down at them.
Pyotr licked his thumb and tried to rub off some of the ink, but it was useless. It was permanent marker; to wipe it off he would have to rub so hard that it would hurt the girl. Not that he minded rubbing her very firm buttocks, but there were lines he didn’t want to cross without reasons. Grumbling, he stomped back up the aisle.
It took a minute to find the marker – one of the ones used for those giant paper notepads in presentations – in Jeremy’s pocket. Pyotr walked back to the girl and carefully, as gently as he could, he colored over the letters to obscure them. He tried to make it look like she had sat on something, hoping that if she went to the beach again it wouldn’t look too much like she’d been letting someone draw on her.
It was difficult to get the jeans back on the girl. Pyotr had to brace himself behind her and pull them up, holding her hips against his own, and it was impossible not to notice once again how firm her ass was as it rubbed against his crotch. It was also hard not to notice that the pants were too small for her, but eventually he did get them up and over her hips.
This time, the feeling was not as subtle for her. Pyotr started time from his desk, and she yelped and almost jumped out of her seat. Several students looked in her direction, but she sat still afterward and they eventually forgot about her outburst.
Jeremy elbowed Pyotr in the ribs playfully. “You get a load of her ass?” he asked.
“I did not get a load of anything,” Pyotr replied, “and neither should you. You have a beautiful girlfriend whose ass you can get a load of!”
Time stopped again, but this time it was Jeremy who had used the control. “Listen, Pete,” he said, leaning back in his chair, “I get it. You want to respect people, and do good things. And I’m telling you that you will do great things! You’ll make your own machine, and we can go back and save Lincoln, or shove Hitler in a cupboard, or whatever you want! You can save billions of lives and make the world a better place!”
Pyotr nodded. “This is true, but…”
“But in the meantime,” Jeremy interrupted, “you need to practice with the power we’ve got. It gets easier to use once you do it awhile, and what better way to practice than with a few harmless pranks?” Standing, Jeremy walked over to another girl, this one a mousey little brunette with short hair and glasses. He lifted her shirt and pulled her bra down under her perky little breasts, then put her shirt down again. “There, see? Did that hurt anyone? Did that make me a bad person?”
Pyotr shook his head. “Not really, but…”
“But nothing! Come over here. Look at all these people. Half of them are assholes, and all of them are bored. A little mischief is good for them! C’mon, you try!”
Pyotr shrugged. “I suppose if nobody is hurt…”
“Exactly! Hey, help me out, I’m gonna unclip every bra in this room. It’s gonna be great!”
-*-*-
Pyotr had left Jeremy after class, heading home to his dormitory, then turned around and walked in a different direction instead. Almost without thinking about it, he walked off campus to a train station and rode the rails for a couple of minutes. Now he was walking down familiar streets, toward home.
His family had moved from Russia when he was just a little boy, but Pyotr’s father had worked very hard and saved all he could and eventually purchased a small house near the University campus. It was here that Pyotr and his three sisters had grown up, and it was here that he always came when he needed to really think.
Walking in the front door, Pyotr stopped and inhaled deeply. The smells of home washed over him: fresh bread, air freshener, his mother’s subtle perfume. He smiled and kicked off his shoes, then headed for his bedroom, stopping on his way to kiss his mother’s cheek and try a taste of the stew she was preparing.
His room was mostly as he had left it. Mostly, because only half of it was his; he had long shared the space with his twin sister, Serafina. She had a habit of letting her own clutter spill over into his things, but it never really bothered him very much.
He hopped onto his bed, the bottom of a sturdy wooden bunk that his father had built. It was comfortable and smelled of rich cedar, but of course it had little imperfections here and there, since it was made from boards and nails instead of swedish hex bolts and pre-made parts. Pyotr sighed, feeling his worry melt away.
Serafina’s head popped down from above, grinning at him. “Privyet, brother!” she quipped, her thick accent turning the word into “brozzer”. Sera had always exaggerated her accent; she knew that it made her sound exotic, and that threw people off-guard, either through unfamiliarity or because of the sultry sexuality of a foreign voice.
Pyotr rolled his eyes and nodded to her. “Hello, Sera,” he said. “Are you home for the weekend as well?”
“Everyone is! Zarya left the kids with her husband, and Annushka promised to ignore her friends for once.”
Pyotr sighed. He did love his sisters, but they could be a handful, particularly when he was trying to relax and clear his head. At least his elder sister hadn’t brought her children, but young Anna had long been the bane of Pyotr’s existence. She was rude and demanding, but only to him; everyone else thought she was a perfect angel. Only Sera knew the truth.
Of course, it made sense that Sera knew whatever Pyotr knew. They had always been very close, sharing rooms and toys and sometimes even clothing; Sera was never one for skirts and dresses. She was a little thinner than Pyotr, the result of her long years of gymnastics and ballet lessons, but they were close enough in size to share most things.
Even her hair tended toward the shorter styles, creating a tomboyish look. Sera flipped down onto Pyotr’s bunk, interrupting his reminiscing. She bounced perfectly into a position between him and the wall, cuddling up to him with a familiarity reserved for twins and lovers. They had often been mistaken for the latter, but only because they were so close that there were no secrets between them. Well, almost none; Pyotr didn’t dare tell Serafina about the reason he was wearing a glove.
“Did nobody tell you we were getting together?” she asked, resting her head on his shoulder.
“No,” Pyotr grumbled. “Once again, everyone assumes that because I am clever I already know these things.”
“I am sorry. If you like, we can play tricks on them in revenge.”
Pyotr sighed. “Not this time, sister, but thank you.” Just thinking about “tricks” brought Jeremy to mind. What would his friend do if he were there? Probably something unpleasant.
Sera shrugged. “Your loss. I might put something sticky in Zarya’s shoes anyway, I think I owe her one for something she did ten or so years ago.” She grinned and kissed his cheek, then bounced off the bed. “Coming to dinner?”
“In a moment,” Pyotr said.
Serafina nodded and walked out of the room.
“Nice thong,” Pyotr called after her, teasing her and prompting her to pull her jeans up to a level that would be less likely to get her smacked with a wooden spoon when their mother saw her.
“Thanks, you can borrow it later,” she replied, winking at him.
Pyotr grinned. Sera had always liked shocking people. He remembered when they were twelve and she made him help her pierce her ears with a safety pin. She’d been very proud of herself until infection set in.
“That’s so trashy,” Annushka declared, marching uninvited into Pyotr’s room and sitting at his desk. “She’s gonna get molested.”
“What do you want, Anna?” Pyotr asked, glaring at her.
Anna stuck out her tongue at him. She often acted like she was still a little kid, despite the fact that she was 18 now and very obviously grown up. It was a bit hypocritical to be proud of having larger breasts than Sera and also to pretend to be an innocent little girl, but Annushka thrived in hypocrisy.
She started brushing her long brown hair, using Pyotr’s swivel chair like her personal salon. “Mom says we gotta spend time as a family. I was thinking you could help with my physics homework.”
“Anna, when you ask for ‘help’, I end up doing all of the work.”
“This’ll be different, I promise! Please?”
-*-*-
It wasn’t different. Some things never change.
Pyotr grumbled, tapping his foot and waiting. Annushka was chattering on her phone with one of her friends, ignoring his attempts to show her how to properly derive formulae. He was determined to get her to complete her assignment properly, but every moment tempted him more to just complete the assignment and walk away.
Dinner had been pleasant enough, but Annushka had trapped him by again asking for help in front of their parents. So now Pyotr was stuck in Anna’s room until the homework was completed, or one of them killed the other. He wasn’t sure which outcome was more likely.
Stepping back from the cluttered little desk she kept, Pyotr sat on Anna’s bed. He needed to get Anna’s attention, get her to focus. Most of all, he needed her off the phone.
Remembering his early experiments, an idea started to form in Pyotr’s mind. He stopped time, taking a moment to think about how remarkable it was that he could just do that now, then walked up to Anna’s chair. Carefully, he moved the phone away from her ear and leaned in close.
“GET OFF THE FUCKING PHONE, YOU USELESS BITCH!” he shouted in her ear. He knew she wouldn’t understand the words, but it felt good to say. Returning her phone to its former position, he sat down again and started time.
“Ow!” Anna cried, putting a hand over her ear and recoiling from the phone.
“Are you alright?” Pyotr asked, feigning concern.
“Didn’t you hear that?”
“Hear what?”
“I don’t know, it was just this loud noise that hurt my ear, then was gone.” She shrugged, returning to her call. “Stephanie? Yeah okay, so I mean he only wants to date me because of my tits, but he has a car, you know? Anyway…”
Pyotr stopped time again and snatched the phone away from his sister, closing his hand around it to pull it out of time with him. The call disconnected, finding no signal. He turned the screen up to its maximum brightness and started looking around at its contents.
There were a lot of text messages during class time. That wasn’t a surprise. She also had way too many useless apps installed, which made the phone a little slow. That was fine by him, however; the battery read 88%, and he wanted it to be much less than that.
Sitting on the bed, he flipped through the pictures and videos, killing time. There were many, many pictures of herself making the kissy face known as “duck lips”, and pictures of food for whatever reason, and a few of boys playing sports or running or just standing around, not knowing apparently that she was looking at them. He shook his head at her vapid hobbies.
There were also some pictures of a girl in her underwear, which was interesting. Pyotr didn’t realize his sister liked girls. It was a lacy little bra and panty set, in a standing pose from front and behind. She had fair skin and impressive breasts, and Pyotr found himself enjoying looking through the images, particularly when the underwear started coming off, revealing light pink nipples and a well-shaved pussy. There was a video, too. Pyotr started the playback, adjusting his now very tight pants.
The image was a close shot between her legs, with one hand rubbing herself. Through the tinny speaker, Pyotr could hear her moaning, and he found his own hand moving to the bulge in his pants, mirroring her movements. The girl rubbed faster, then slipped two fingers inside herself and began fingering herself.
Faster and faster she went, moaning breathlessly. It was one of the hottest things Pyotr had ever seen. The girl’s voice built up and then went almost silent as her breath caught; for a few seconds all he could hear was the wet slipping of skin on skin. Then she let out a little cry, having what looked like a pretty incredible orgasm.
Pyotr felt pretty close to getting off himself and considered unzipping his pants, but then the camera swung up and around. It panned slowly up the girl’s nude body and to her face. On the screen, Annushka panted blissfully, licking her fingers clean.
Pyotr tossed the phone on the bed as if it had lit on fire. And she had called Serafina trashy! Annushka wasn’t worthy to share the same air with Sera. After all her posturing, to think that she had made such a video. And for whom? It made him feel angry just thinking of his little sister giving such a thing away to someone.
Picking up the phone again, Pyotr considered deleting all the files. A tiny, vicious part of his mind spoke up, however, and he first copied them onto a memory card. Not for himself, of course, but rather in case he should need leverage over Annushka in the future. Then he cleared the phone’s entire memory, resetting it to factory standards.
Pyotr took the phone and memory card back to his own room, intending to sit and wait while the battery discharged.
Sera was there, frozen like a statue. She had pulled her shirt up over her head, likely to change into her pajamas. Pyotr moved carefully around her, grabbing a book and laying on his bed to relax and pass the time.
She was looking good lately, he thought. It seemed like she’d been doing more core exercises, because even bent forward he could see in profile that her stomach was flat and toned. She had muscle over her ribs, giving her a healthy look. He made a note to compliment her later and started reading one of his physics theory books.
The book was an interesting one; the author’s theories all worked very well with what Pyotr had been observing, and predicted many things correctly. It was strange to be able to judge experienced scientists in hindsight. Also, he could see the underside of Sera’s breasts, which looked pretty great.
Pyotr closed the book and sighed. Was the Universe centered around voyeurism or something? Was God some childish pervert? Serafina was his twin, his other half. Not once in his life had he thought of her as a thing to admire sexually. Sure, he’d judged her objectively to be very attractive. She’d even asked him to do so, when trying on new outfits. They had shared bedrooms, bathtubs, clothing… she was not a woman to him, she was Sera.
Yet still, he sat staring at her breasts. He knew that he could remove her shirt and look at them if he so pleased. He could even touch them. They would be firm, and they would fit very nicely into his hands. All these things he knew as surely as he knew that he did not want to know.
“It that what you want?” he asked nobody. “Shall I go look at Zarya next, admire her asshole? Perhaps steal my mother’s panties? Must I cut off my manhood before I can focus on science?”
Grumbling, he swung off his bunk once more. He would go read outside if he had to, away from such temptations and distractions. He stepped toward the door, stopped, and turned around.
Sera’s breasts were indeed beautiful. He’d seen them before, but never really looked, and after today, he told himself, he would not look again. She would never know he had pulled her shirt up in the front to admire her smooth skin and perky nipples, and the stupid perverted manchild in his brain could just shut up and go to hell.
-*-*-
At last, the little phone beeped a low battery warning. Pyotr had gone through six chapters of his book, making notes in the margins and highlighting things to look up later on. Now he closed the book, picked up Anna’s phone, and returned to her bedroom.
He had stopped on the way outside and placed two clothespins on Anna’s earlobe, one at the top and one at the bottom. Now he removed them and clapped his hands loudly next to her ear, then returned the phone to her hand.
Anna shrieked when time started up again, tossing her phone onto the carpet and clapping her hands over her ear.
“Anna?” Pyotr said, pretending he had no idea what was going on. “What happened?”
“Something hurt me!” she exclaimed.
Pyotr walked over and picked up her phone. It had black marks near both ends, courtesy of some old charcoal in the neighbor’s outdoor grill. “It looks like it shocked you,” he said, handing it to her and looking at her earlobe. It was swollen and red from the pinching. “You should put ice on that.”
Anna stalked out to treat her injury, leaving Pyotr for a minute to suppress his urge to laugh out loud at his selfish sister’s well-deserved discomfort. When she returned, she had a bandage on her earlobe and a sour look on her face. “The battery’s dead, too,” he said, tossing the phone on her desk.
“Perfect, then we can focus on your assignment.”
“Yeah, sure, whatever.”
-*-*-
Removing the distraction had not been enough. Annushka still refused to do her work, insisting that her brother should “demonstrate” each problem until they were done.
Pyotr had tried many things outside of time. Pinching her for looking away just made her angry; she was convinced, rightfully, that he had done it without her seeing. Positive reinforcement was not much better; using the smells of foods she liked when she did something correct just distracted her and made her hungry, and petting her hair like a well-behaved dog and whispering praise in her ear just made her feel nervous like she was being watched.
There was, of course, one method that he knew might work. He had been avoiding thinking about it, but now he had to face the truth. Either he had to do his sister’s physics homework, proving to her that he was her lackey… or he had to “stimulate” her.
“Argh!” he groaned in stopped time, clenching his fists. “I have seen enough naked sisters for one day!”
Still, he thought, it would be good to get out of there. And perhaps… if he could modify Anna’s behavior enough to make her want to do physics homework, it would go a long way toward understanding human behavior and reward response. Again, not his field of study, but valuable science nonetheless.
“I cannot believe I am doing this,” he told Anna, as if she could hear and reply to him. “You have forced my hand.”
Leaning over the desk once more, Pyotr started time. “Anna,” he said, “please let us look at the next page.”
Annushka sighed heavily. “Fine,” she said, turning the page over.
Pyotr stopped time as soon as he was sure she was looking at the questions in her textbook. Very carefully, he undid the buttons on the front of the simple dress she was wearing and slid it off her shoulders, trying not to care about her smooth, warm skin or to think about the sexy pictures he had on a memory card in his pocket. Using a feather-light touch, he ran two fingers up her spine, from her waist all the way to the back of her neck. He did it slowly, although he supposed that didn’t matter. Then he pulled the dress back up and rebuttoned it.
-*-*-
Anna was getting sick of fucking around with this stupid homework. If her brother wouldn’t do it for her, she could get one of the nerds at school to do it before class. But her mother had told them to get it done, so here they were, trapped together.
“Anna, please let us look at the next page,” Pyotr whinged.
Anna sighed heavily. “Fine,” she said, turning the page over.
She looked at the page and a shiver went up her spine. It felt like someone had touched her, but Pyotr was the only one there and she could see both his hands. She looked at him, then at the page again.
Another shiver, and a warm feeling in her cheeks, like she was looking at someone who turned her on or something. She shook her head and picked up her pencil, copying the first problem down in her notebook.
“Okay,” Pyotr said, “for this one we simply derive the formula from-”
Anna jumped, putting her hand to her breast. Her left nipple felt warm, and tingly. “Sorry,” she said, “what was that?”
Pyotr rolled his eyes in annoyance. “I said, you derive the formula…”
“Ah!” Anna exclaimed, shivering as her nipple once more tingled. It reminded her of a date she’d been on in a theater with a boy who’d pinched and rubbed the same nipple while they watched the film. “Say ‘derive’ again,” she breathed.
“No,” Pyotr said, giving her an annoyed look. “We do that from the formula in the previous question, where force equals…”
Anna listened to Pyotr more carefully, wondering if it would happen again. It seemed like she was almost getting excited by hearing him talk about physics. Maybe she was drunk, somehow.
“Now, you try,” Pyotr said.
Anna put her pencil on the page. Her hand felt warm, almost like it was being held. She started to copy the formula she needed to start with, and her right nipple reacted the way the left had before. Her hand stopped, and so did the pleasure, but when she began writing again the feeling came back, first on the right and then on the left as well.
She wrote faster, feeling the rubbing and tingling intensify and spread to the entirety of her breasts, and let out a little moan when the formula was complete.
“And now, derive,” Pyotr said, setting off the thing with her spine again.
Anna derived.
-*-*-
Pyotr chuckled. Anna was so easy to manipulate, once he got over the weirdness of touching her body. It helped to pretend she was a stranger, while he once again lowered the top part of her dress and removed her bra. Now that she was doing the actual question, he needed to up the ante. He leaned in and sucked each of her nipples for a few seconds, rubbing and gently squeezing the gravity-defying globes. Then, taking a deep breath, he lifted the hem of her dress.
Anna’s panties were plain white with a little bow on the front of the waistband. They were also darkened considerably by her own fluids. Pyotr reached down and rubbed the wet spot a little, then put the dress to rights again. Just a tease; the real reward would only come when she got the answer.
-*-*-
Anna tightened her throat, stifling a moan. She’d felt that one all the way down to her pussy! She kept writing, switching and simplifying values, eager to arrive at the solution.
-*-*-
Pyotr couldn’t deny it anymore; this was hot. Insanely hot. His cock throbbed in his pants as he once again lifted Anna’s skirt. He knew that it was pretty fucked up, but it was definitely working, and he had to see it through to the conclusion.
She was getting close to the answer now. Pyotr lifted her up, making her sit in the air, and slid her panties down and off of her. She looked just like she had in the video: smooth and glistening wet. He stroked her slit with his fingertips, then rubbed his fingers together, feeling the warm sticky juices that were coating her skin.
On a whim, he brought his fingers to his mouth and tasted her. It was a musky but surprisingly sweet taste, and he found himself rather enjoying it. He moved closer, spreading Anna’s thighs further so he could reach and running his tongue slowly up the length of her opening.
It was even sweeter from the source, and Pyotr found himself licking again and again until she was entirely clean, and even holding her ass in his hands so he could press his tongue inside of her.
Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Pyotr stepped back. He gently eased Anna back into the chair and put her dress down, shoving her panties in his pocket for the moment. She wouldn’t need them right away, anyway.
Time started, but Anna didn’t move. For a full second she froze, eyes wide, and then she responded. Her hand shook, scrawling a jagged line on the page, and she made a sort of squeaking sound, unable to hold back her moan of pleasure. Pyotr pretended to cough into his fist to hide his mischievous grin.
Annushka fidgeted in her seat and erased the line she’d drawn. “Sorry,” she whispered, reading the question to get back on her train of thought.
“It’s alright,” Pyotr said. “You’re tired. Just finish this question and we are done for now.”
Anna nodded, putting her pencil to the page. She began to write the last formula. A nervous shake in her hand made the lines wobble, but the answer was correct. It seemed she had been paying attention after all.
She closed her eyes and took a breath, anticipating her reward. Pyotr waited a few seconds, and she exhaled again.
“Huh,” she said. “That was-”
Pyotr stopped time and lifted Annushka out of the chair again. He pushed up her dress and spread her legs, once again licking up the sweet juices that had leaked out of her. At the same time, he unzipped his pants and began stroking his cock. He had decided that there was no harm in enjoying the sensation while he was here. And besides, why should Anna have all the fun?
This time he pressed deeper, sucking and thrusting with his tongue. He pulled back the skin hiding her clitoris and rubbed it with his thumb, keeping gentle in case it was too much for her.
After a while, Pyotr stopped feeling and tasting anything other than his own saliva. He pulled back, wiping his face, and started unbuttoning the front of Anna’s dress, pushing it down to bunch around her waist. He removed her bra and pulled her down, straightening her legs and sucking once more on each one of her nipples.
One of her thighs pressed against the tip of his cock. Her skin was warm and soft, and a bead of his own sticky fluid leaked out onto her. Still stroking himself, Pyotr used the head to smear it into her skin, then pushed her thighs together and slowly moved himself between them.
Anna’s thighs felt great, he thought. Almost like a real pussy. Or at least, he assumed so; Pyotr had never actually been with a girl. He pumped slowly in and out, playing with her breasts at the same time.
After only a couple pushes, however, the sensation loosened. Looking down, Pyotr found that Anna’s flesh had been pushed into her thighs, leaving a gap a little bigger than his rod. He moved her down a couple inches and pushed in again, moaning a little between her breasts.
Again she felt warm and tight and again she quickly loosened. Pyotr pushed her down further, kissing her neck, and then once more, but instead of the tight grip of her thighs he now felt a barrier of soft, hot, moistened skin.
Pyotr reached around and gripped Anna’s ass, stroking his painfully hard shaft and head along her pussy and moaning. He ripped off his shirt to feel her big soft breasts against his chest, pulling her in toward his thrusts and moving faster. A wave of pleasure made him shiver and clench his pelvic muscles, causing his cock to jump a little and prod at Annushka’s inviting gateway.
Pyotr looked down, surprised. He had never imagined that touching a female could feel this way, and now he was mere inches away from finally feeling what drives all men wild. His throat was dry and his heart was beating against his ribs.
Turning around, he laid Anna down on the bed and spread her legs. Standing between her thighs, he had a perfect view of his cock kissing the folds of her pussy. He thought about the video on her phone, and the way she’d moaned when she slid her slender fingers into that same opening.
Holding her hips, he pushed a little further. He watched the head of his tool get swallowed by Anna’s body, then stopped, simply feeling her. She felt boiling hot, but in a way that was overwhelmingly pleasurable. One day, he thought, he might feel this with a girl.
Moving one foot back, Pyotr began to pull himself out of Annushka. He hadn’t technically done it, he told himself, so he could stop now. Perhaps, though, he could use his powers to help make it easier to find a girl of his own. Jeremy could help, maybe. After all, he had Petra, and they lived together; surely they had had sex many times.
An image formed in his mind of Petra, laying on a bed stripped bare, moaning while he parted her thighs and slid inside of her. He moaned, pushing inch after inch of his desperate shaft into her perfectly-tight passage, reaching down to run his hand across a patch of fiery red hair.
His hand found only skin. There was no hair there, because Annushka was shaved bare, and he was inside of Annushka. Pleasure shut out the shock of it, and he started pumping slowly back and forth inside her, pressing his palm firmly down over her upper pelvis to help keep her from opening too wide.
His free hand gripped her breasts, squeezing each one and leaving deep handprints, as he started thrusting faster. Wave after wave of pure pleasure shot up his spine. Grabbing her hips, he thrust in faster and harder, deciding to keep doing this forever.
As soon as he had the thought to last, his body betrayed him. He came hard, groaning and still pumping into Anna’s slippery pussy, seeing stars as the blood rushed out of his head.
With a final thrust, he stopped, gasping for breath and propping himself on the bed. A moment later, the extent of what he’d done began to sink in. He looked down at his sister’s body, lying with her legs wide and her dress crumpled around her waist, stretched open around his cum-covered cock.
Stepping back, Pyotr moved in a daze. He used the panties in his pocket to wipe his cock clean, then did the same to his sister, wiping where his cum had leaked onto her skin. He tossed them toward a hamper, then plucked them out of the air and placed them in the hamper instead.
There were matching panties in one of Anna’s drawers, so Pyotr put a new pair on her, then put her bra and dress back on. He brushed her hair straight and transferred her to the chair once more.
Annushka was still holding her pencil. For some reason, this seemed hilarious to Pyotr. She had been frozen in time, stripped, and fucked, but dammit, she still had her pencil. Pyotr leaned back on the wall and laughed, sliding down slowly until he was sitting on the floor. He wasn’t exactly sure when the laughter turned to sobs.
-*-*-
“It’s alright,” Pyotr said. “You’re tired. Just finish this question and we are done for now.”
Anna nodded, putting her pencil to the page. She began to write the last formula. A nervous shake in her hand made the lines wobble, but she was certain the answer was correct. It seemed she had retained some of the lesson after all.
She closed her eyes and took a breath, anticipating her reward. After a few seconds, nothing happened and she exhaled again.
“Huh,” she said. “That was-”
There was a churning sensation inside her, like when a roller coaster drops out beneath you. It surprised her, but was quickly overwhelmed by a barrage of louder, more pleasurable messages from her body. Her breasts tingled, her legs shivered, and her pussy…
Her pussy exploded, taking her with it. She had barely enough time to shove the side of her hand in her mouth before she cried out in pleasure as the biggest orgasm of her life ripped through her.
She could feel every inch of her contracting around something that had never been inside of her, squeezing her juices out and soaking her panties. She was vaguely aware that her brother was still in the room, but she didn’t care. All that mattered was cumming; her chest heaved and her hips bucked, banging her knees into the desk in a way that would hurt later.
After a thousand years, she pulled the pieces of herself back together and sat up straight.
“Look, Annushka, I’m glad you figured it out, but there’s no reason to fuck with me,” Pyotr said. “Just do the rest later. I’m out of here.”
“O-okay,” Anna said weakly. Pyotr closed the door behind himself.
The moment she was alone, Anna plunged her hand under her dress and into her panties, rubbing wildly at her throbbing crotch. She bit down on her fist as she coaxed first one and then another aftershock orgasm out of herself, finally slumping back in her chair after the third one rolled off her.
“Jesus Christ,” she whispered, pulling her hand out of her panties. It was totally soaked with her leavings, some of it clear and some goopy white. She sucked her fingers one by one and licked her hand clean, starting to catch her breath. She tasted a little saltier than usual, but then nothing about today had been “usual”.
“Fuck, I love physics,” she said.