Bright golden rays of sunshine cut through the openings of the off-white, hard shades covering the window above Collin’s queen-sized bed. The sun appears a weird red color from under his eyelids as he slowly become conscious of the world around him and the voice that was persistently calling his name.
“Collin! Collin, get up!” Kaitlyn’s voice bombards his foggy mind, shaking away the last remnants of sleep from his brain. His eyes slowly open, then shuts them tight to avoid the light of the day outside. Focusing his line of vision on the ceiling, Collin groans and stretches, becoming all too aware of his male part as the cover rides down his thighs. Laying a beefy arm across his face, he yawns and mutters at his sister on the other side of the door.
“I’m up, I’m up,” he growls, sitting up.
“Your alarm went off 5 minutes ago. You can’t be late for work.” Collin hears Kaitlyn’s delicate footsteps slowly pad away from his bedroom door and down the flight of hardwood steps. Standing up, he sighs and checks his phone for any messages before stumbling to the door of his room. He leans his head on the cool wood and closes his eyes, hoping for a few more seconds of slumber.
An image of Kaitlyn in her usual night attire-a long, white, Fruit of the Looms t-shirt and thin, pink underwear that hugged her hips and lower parts flash through his mind, making his boxers shift a little. A growl of frustration resonates from his throat to the corners of the near empty room at what he knew he couldn’t have. Night after night, Collin dreamt of being with Kaitlyn, making love to her. He tortured himself with thoughts of her body nude, of her attempting to seduce him. More than anything, their blood ties upset Collin about the love he felt for his older sister.
Scurrying across the empty hall, the 20 year old shuts the door to the bathroom and stands at the expansive sink that held an equally elaborate mirror. Drops of an all too familiar, viscous fluid dotted his blue and black striped boxers that bulge in front. The young man sighs, grabbing his tooth brush to prepare himself from the long shift ahead of him. His hazel eyes watch as he methodically runs the stiff bristled brush over his 32 teeth. His mind is in a million other places-on his job, on his classes, on her, on him, on his strengths, on his weakness, on everything that could be better about his life. If only I could have her,
he thinks, swishing a capful of Listerine inside his mouth. Turning the water off, Collin steps back from the marble covered counter.
Collin’s thick, veined, tanned right hand slips below the band of his Hanes underwear. He grips his length, feeling the power and desire eminating from it. He slides his hand up until the palm rests on the ridge of the mushroom head of his manhood. He allows his fingers to play with the tip, going in teasingly light circles near the opening where beads of clear pre-cum ooze out. He shudders at his own teasing, closing his eyes eyes to picture Kaitlyn doing it instead, her delicate, smooth, manicured fingers gripping his throbbing length, smiling at him with an attempted innocent look.
“You like this?” He imagines her asking. Unable to respond, he can only manage to nod, pulling her closer to him as her hand mimics the motion his hands had been doing for years. He imagines her cupping his heavy, cum-laden balls, rolling them around in her hand as if they were precious jewels. She leans into him, her hair smelling of strawberries, her lips plump with red lip gloss. He imagines her lips pressing against his, then the sides of his neck as electricity rips through his body. Her lips explore lower, making a damp trail from the center of his pecs to his happy trail. Kaitlyn bends to her knees, her eyes sparkling as she hovers her mouth over his engorged penis. Gasping, Collin prepares for the contact, shaking with anticipation.
A disruptive clanging in the kitchen knocks Collin from his reverie. He hears Kaitlyn lets out an exasperated “shit” at the noise she just caused. He sighs, looking at the closed door for any signs of his fantasy having been reality. His boxers still sit around his waist, large wet spots from his overactive imagination. With his dry hand, the man rids himself of the cumbersome piece of clothing and notices evidence of his arousal drizzled on the floor like a delicate sauce. His other hand is gripping his manhood firmly, the palm and fingers glistening with wetness. He takes a few more strokes and plays with his hairy sacks before wiping up his precum and slipping into the shower. “Maybe tonight,” he whispers, letting the icy cold water clear his mind.
Stepping out of the shower many inches smaller, Collin shakes his head and hurries to clad his still burning body. He keeps his mind on the task at hand, not allowing it to wander. The shift ahead was going to be hell. His brain would keep replaying the scene he played this morning, his second head yearning for attention.
Making a quick stop by the kitchen, Collin grabs a bottle of orange juice and pop tarts and begins heading for the apartment door. “I’ll see you this evening, okay?” He says, tearing open the packaging of the pop tarts. Kaitlyn comes from the living room and wraps her thin arms around his wide, muscular frame.
“See you tonight.” She looks up at him, being nearly a half foot shorter than he. Something in her voice seems to be seductive, enticing. It’s gotta be me,
Collin thinks. It’s the built up cum going to my head.
Shaking his head subtly, he nods and backs away, trying to keep his overly sensitive penis as flaccid as possible. Kaitlyn saunters back into the living room, settling down on the black, leather couch to focus on her tv show as her big brother walks out the door, wishing his feelings for her would do the same.
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