She was supposed to be the little sister they “babysat” for the night. But rules never meant much when whiskey flowed and clothing clung too tight.
The house felt different with Mom and Dad gone.
They were out for their anniversary dinner—fancy, candlelit, romantic—leaving me alone with them. My twin brothers: Ryan and Cole. Two years older, full of themselves, and as irritating as they were annoyingly hot.
They’d rolled their eyes when Dad told them to “keep an eye on your sister.” They were already halfway into a bottle of whiskey before I even came downstairs. The sound of shuffling cards and deep, boozy laughs echoed through the dim living room.
I padded in barefoot, wearing nothing but my tiniest sleep shorts and a thin tank top with no bra. It dipped low in the front—low enough to show off the soft, heavy curves of my cleavage. The cool air teased my nipples to life under the fabric.
“Smells like a frat house in here,” I teased, leaning on the doorframe.
Ryan looked up first, dark hair messy, eyes already hooded. He blinked, and for a second, forgot to respond. His gaze dropped straight to my chest.
“We’re celebrating,” he muttered.
“Yeah,” Cole added. “Celebrating not being stuck with you.”
I smirked and walked toward the couch with slow, deliberate steps. My hips swayed, my legs bare. The closer I got, the quieter they got.
“Can I play?”
Ryan scoffed.
“This isn’t Go Fish, princess.”
“But I learn fast.” I dragged a stool over and bent low to pick up a stray card, letting them get a full view down my tank top. I could feel their eyes clinging to my cleavage like it was gravity.
Cole’s voice dropped, just a bit.
“You’re such a brat.”
“Mmm.” I sat between them, lips curling as I looked from one twin to the other. “You guys always call me that. Maybe I like it.”
Ryan’s eyes darkened.
“Be careful, little sis,” Cole muttered, fingers tapping the rim of his glass. “You’re playing with fire.”
I crossed my legs, letting one thigh brush Cole’s. My lips parted slowly as I whispered,
“Then maybe you should burn me.”
The silence crackled louder than the rain tapping against the windows.
They didn’t speak. Didn’t blink.
Then Ryan reached for the whiskey, took a long pull, and muttered,
“Jesus Christ…”
It happened so fast—but not without permission. Not without want.
Cole’s fingers brushed along my bare thigh. Testing. Teasing. And when I didn’t stop him, they slid higher, past the hem of my shorts. He found the edge of my lace panties—already damp—and let out a sharp breath.
“Fuck… you’re soaked.”
“Mmm…” I moaned, leaning into the touch. “Maybe I like when you’re both watching me.”
Ryan cursed softly behind me, pulling off his hoodie. I reached for his hand, guided it up under my tank top. His fingers brushed my nipple and I gasped—high and breathy.
“Mmm yes… just like that…”
Cole’s fingers circled my clit, slow and steady. His other hand gripped my thigh, keeping me wide open for both of them. I was trembling now, needy and wet and bold.
“You’ve wanted this,” Ryan whispered against my neck. “You’ve always wanted this.”
I nodded helplessly, teeth sinking into my bottom lip.
“Show us then,” Cole growled. “Take it off.”
I peeled my tank top over my head in one slow motion. My breasts bounced free, soft and full, nipples tight and aching from all the teasing. Their eyes devoured me.
Cole pulled me onto his lap, my legs straddling him, my ass barely covered by the curve of my shorts. I felt how hard he was—thick and pulsing against my heat. I rocked against him, letting his cock press right where I needed it most.
“I want it,” I breathed. “Right here. Right now.”
Ryan stepped back, watching with hunger in his eyes.
Cole’s jeans came down, and I pulled my panties aside. I grabbed his cock, warm and heavy in my hand, and guided it to my slick center. Then I sank down on him—slow, tight, full.
“Ohhhh fuuuck…”
He filled me deep. The stretch made me moan louder than I meant to. My hips moved on instinct, grinding and rolling, my breasts bouncing with every thrust.
Ryan moved behind me, spreading me wider with his hands.
“You look so fucking good like this,” he breathed.
Cole’s mouth was on my tits, sucking, groaning. His hands gripped my hips, guiding me as I rode him harder, faster, wet sounds echoing in rhythm with my moans.
“You’re such a little slut,” Ryan whispered in my ear. “Bouncing on your brother’s cock like you were made for it.”
I whimpered. The words made me clench around Cole, and made my back arch.
“Say it,” he growled. “Say you’re our filthy little brat.”
“I’m your filthy little brat,” I cried out, my voice shaking as the orgasm built.
“I’m yours…”
Cole thrust up into me harder, faster. I was right there, right on the edge—
“Cum for us, baby,” Ryan ordered, his hand wrapped around my throat gently. “Let them hear you.”
And I did.
I shattered on Cole’s cock, body convulsing, thighs trembling. My moans filled the whole damn room—desperate, helpless, loud. I rode it out until I was a breathless, dripping mess, clinging to his shoulders while my chest heaved.
Cole came next, groaning deep and raw, spilling inside me while he cursed my name.
Ryan stood behind me, eyes dark with need.
And I turned my head slowly.
“Still your turn,” I whispered.
I was still trembling, straddling Cole, my body soft and slick and flushed pink all over.
His hands rested on my thighs now, possessive, proud, like he couldn’t believe what we’d just done. His cock still buried inside me, slowly softening, but I wasn’t ready to stop.
Not even close.
I turned my head and looked at Ryan.
He hadn’t moved.
He stood behind the couch, shirtless now, jeans unzipped, his cock hard and thick and angry—veins pulsing down the shaft, the tip wet and flushed red. His jaw was tight. His eyes locked on me like I’d just challenged him to a fight he’d waited years to win.
“You just gonna stare?” I whispered, breathless. “Or are you gonna take your fucking turn?”
His chest rose.
He stepped forward.
Cole slid out of me slowly, groaning as he did. I whimpered at the loss—slick and dripping onto the couch cushion now. My thighs trembled as I turned around on my knees, facing Ryan, tits bouncing with every little movement.
He didn’t say a word.
He just grabbed my chin and kissed me.
Hard.
It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t sweet. It was claiming—his tongue invading mine, his hands fisting in my hair, yanking me closer like he’d waited too long to hold back.
“Turn around,” he growled against my mouth. “Hands on the couch. Arch that pretty back for me.”
I shivered.
And obeyed.
My knees sank into the couch cushions, hands gripping the top edge. I arched my back, ass high, my soaked pussy on full display for him—still glistening from Cole’s cum. I felt dirty. Filthy. Used.
And I’d never felt more powerful in my life.
Ryan groaned.
“Fuck, look at this pussy. Goddamn. You really are our brat.”
He knelt behind me, spread my cheeks with both hands and dragged his tongue right up my slit.
I gasped.
“Ahhh— Ryan!”
He licked me slowly. Deep. Tongue swirling over my clit, dipping into me, tasting me and his brother all at once. His grip on my ass was brutal, pulling me wider with every stroke of his tongue.
“Mmmm… you taste like sin,” he moaned against me.
I cried out, hips rocking back into his face. I was already so sensitive, already so close again—
Then he stood up, spit in his hand, stroked his cock once, twice—
And shoved himself into me.
Hard.
“Fuuuck!” I screamed, eyes rolling back.
He filled me deeper than Cole. His grip rougher. His rhythm is meaner. He pounded into me like he was punishing me—for making him wait, for tempting them both, for everything.
The sound of skin slapping skin echoed through the room. Wet, primal, obscene. My tits bounced with every thrust. My moans turned to sobs—raw, filthy little cries that only made him go harder.
“You’re mine now,” he snarled. “Say it.”
“I’m yours,” I sobbed.
“Say whose pussy this is.”
“Yours!”
He reached around and slapped my clit once—sharp and fast—and I broke.
My whole body tensed, legs shaking violently, mouth open in a silent scream as the orgasm tore through me. I gushed around him, dripping down my thighs, soaking the cushion.
“Good fucking girl…”
Ryan slammed into me one last time, grunting as he came—deep and hard—filling me up with everything he had. His hips twitched. His fingers dug into my hips like he wanted to brand me.
When he finally pulled out, I collapsed onto the couch.
My thighs were shaking. My chest heaving. My body was covered in bite marks, cum, and pride.
I rolled onto my back, both brothers staring down at me—sweaty, fucked-out, ruined in the best way.
“Guess you two are really good babysitters,” I whispered, voice raspy and wrecked.
Ryan smirked.
Cole handed me the whiskey bottle.
And the rain kept falling.