My dear little brother
After I gave myself to my older brother for the first time, we became lovers. I desperately regretted that we could never truly get married, but there was absolutely nothing to be done about it here.
Our second time happened the very next morning, and the third that evening. I didn't know if it was more about the novelty of the sensations and the pent-up desire, or if we just fit together amazingly well. Each time, I felt myself becoming more attached to my brother. Perhaps what was beginning to arise between us wasn't just attraction but real love.
Layering sexual feelings onto familial ones had an unexpected effect. And the further it went, the more I liked it.
From then on, every time we were home alone, we would shed our clothes and end up in my bed.
Naturally, we had to hide from any prying eyes so no one would find out. At first, I was desperately aroused by the very sharp feeling of danger, but later it started to annoy me, and I wanted peace.
And I caught myself admiring my younger brother.
He resembled the older one, just five years younger and half a head shorter. Of course, he had no experience with girls, hadn't managed to meet anyone, most likely because he was too shy to speak first and too cute to be taken seriously.
And I decided to help him with that, and at the same time, replace the older one until he returned. If I did it with one, why not with both?
Naturally, I didn't immediately tell him everything openly; instead, I began gently courting my little brother, slowly leading him to the right thoughts. As I had hoped, things went well. I had noticed even earlier how my younger one would watch me with his eyes; I was the only girl he had the resolve to observe, and I had already caught him a couple of times staring intently at my chest, but I pretended not to notice. Apparently, my tits were capable of attracting my younger brother just as much as the older one. My size isn't particularly impressive, but that's okay; the important thing is that my beautiful breasts (currently, alas, hidden under a pink top) stand confidently without bra support, and their neat little nipples, like small cherries, are perked up and protrude forward.
My conversations with the younger one slowly did their job; by the second week, my little brother grew a bit bolder and was more willing to watch me. I started dressing more and more revealingly, subtly provoking him so that my little brother would admire his dear sister and get used to it.
The third week passed with increasing openness, and I thought my brother was already ripe enough not to be frightened upon seeing me undressed. I decided to appear naked in front of him for the first time as if by accident, "forgetting" to lock the door while changing. And, as I thought, my sweet brother peeked in and bolted away, but not immediately—he hesitated for a few seconds, looking at my body, thinking I hadn't noticed anything. It became clear to me that he was seeing a naked girl for the first time.
After that, things continued in the same vein. My brother got used to it, started openly peeping at me, thinking I didn't notice, then realized I didn't mind and didn't hide it much.
After that, I decided to act more actively, but still fearing he might get scared and turn back.
I started by one morning, as I was without clothes, going out to sunbathe on the balcony, and noticed him watching me. Pretending not to see him, I sometimes turned this way and that so he wouldn't miss a single curve of my beautiful body.
* * *