The steam was still swirling in the air as I crept into Carl’s room, a mischievous grin plastered on my face. He was in the shower, belting out some off-key pop song he probably downloaded illegally. Perfect timing. My weapon of choice? A small, innocent-looking bottle of itching powder, was purchased online after weeks of planning this epic prank.
Carl was meticulous, almost obsessively so. Every morning, without fail, he’d strip down, drape his clothes neatly over his desk chair, and then hop into the shower. His boxers, always fresh and meticulously folded, sat square in the middle of his perfectly made bed, like some kind of pre-shower offering. He was practically begging for this.
I tiptoed in, my heart thumping a nervous rhythm against my ribs. The room smelled of his usual blend of teenage angst and Lynx Africa deodorant. I could hear the shower sputtering, time was running out. I unscrewed the lid of the itching powder, the fine, pale dust looking almost ethereal in the dim light filtering through the blinds.
My conscience gave a tiny, pathetic whimper. Was this too mean? Nah. He’d totally do this to me. Especially after I replaced his shampoo with hair removal cream last month. (He’s still not forgiven me for that, even though he’s got a full head of hair now.)
With a decisive flick of my wrist, I sprinkled the powder liberally onto the inside of the boxers. I focused on the waistband and the… crucial area. A true artist, I considered myself. I even used my finger to gently spread it around, ensuring maximum coverage.
Satisfied with my handiwork, I quickly replaced the lid, pocketed the bottle, and backed out of the room, covering my tracks as best I could. The shower was starting to wind down. I scurried back to my own room, feeling a surge of adrenaline and a healthy dose of anticipation.
The waiting game began.
It didn’t take long. Maybe fifteen minutes. Carl emerged from his room, freshly scrubbed and radiating a smug aura of cleanliness. He was wearing a clean t-shirt and the infamous boxers. He gave me a nod as he passed, heading for the kitchen for breakfast.
That’s when I saw it. The subtle shift in his posture. The almost imperceptible fidget. The furrowing of his brow. The beginnings of the itch manifested slowly, almost silently.
At breakfast, he was distracted, picking at his toast. He subtly scratched at his thigh. I pretended to be engrossed in my phone, desperately trying to stifle my giggles.
“Carl, are you alright?” Mom asked, her eyebrows arched in concern. “You seem a bit restless.”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” he mumbled, avoiding eye contact. The scratching intensified.
Then, the inevitable happened. Under the table, his hand snuck into his pants. He gave a series of increasingly frantic shuffles, discreetly trying to alleviate the torment. My shoulders started shaking with suppressed laughter.
Mom’s face darkened. “Carl! What are you doing? We have guests this weekend, and I will not have that sort of behaviour at the table!”
His face flushed crimson. “I – I just… it itches!” he stammered, his voice cracking.
“Itches? What are you talking about?” Mom persisted, her voice rising.
He looked like he wanted the earth to swallow him whole. “I don’t know! It just really itches down there!”
The words hung in the air like a toxic cloud. Mom’s eyes narrowed. “Are you… playing with yourself?” she hissed, mortified.
That was it. I lost it. A snort of laughter erupted from my throat, quickly escalating into full-blown, uncontrollable hysterics. Tears streamed down my face, my stomach ached, and I couldn’t breathe.
Carl glared at me, his eyes narrowed with suspicion. “What’s so funny?”
“N-nothing!” I choked out, clutching my stomach. “Just… just… the toast! It’s really funny toast!”
Mom was not amused. “Kelly, that’s enough!” she snapped. “And Carl, go to your room and figure out what’s going on! This is unacceptable!”
He stomped off, muttering under his breath. As soon as he was gone, I collapsed back in my chair, still shaking with laughter.
The rest of the day was a symphony of misery for Carl. He spent most of it pacing his room, constantly adjusting himself, his face a mask of torment. He tried showering again, applying lotion, even changing his boxers multiple times. Nothing worked.
I watched his suffering with a mixture of guilt and glee. I knew I should probably tell him, but the longer it went on, the funnier it became.
In the afternoon, Dad came home and found Carl sitting on the sofa, looking utterly dejected, his hands firmly planted in his lap.
“What’s wrong, son?” Dad asked, concerned.
“I don’t know, Dad,” Carl groaned. “I just… I can’t stop itching. It’s driving me crazy!”
Dad raised an eyebrow. “Maybe you should see a doctor. It could be something serious.”
The thought of Carl explaining his itchy nether regions to a doctor sent me into another fit of silent laughter.
Finally, as evening approached, and Carl looked like he was on the verge of a mental breakdown, I decided to take pity on him.
I found him slumped on his bed, looking defeated.
“Okay, I confess,” I blurted out, the words tripping over themselves. “It was me. I put itching powder in your boxers.”
He stared at me, his eyes wide with disbelief, then slowly narrowed with simmering rage. “You what?!”
“I’m sorry!” I squeaked, backing away. “It was just a joke! I didn’t think it would be this bad!”
“My balls and shaft are itching, why… I should make you itch it or I will tell Dad what you did.” He said as he continued with his hands in his pants.
I held up my hands in surrender. “Okay, okay! I’ll help. Just… don’t tell Dad.”
He eyed me suspiciously. “What are you going to do?”
“I have some cream,” I mumbled, rummaging in my backpack. “It’s for eczema. It might help soothe the itching.” I pulled out a small tube, the label boasting about its calming and anti-inflammatory properties.
He snatched the tube from me, his expression a mixture of hope and scepticism. “Fine. But you’re applying it.”
My eyes widened. “What? No way! I am not touching your… dick. That’s… that’s way too weird!”
“Too weird for the girl who put itching powder in my shorts?” he countered, raising an eyebrow. “Come on, Kelly. You started this. Now finish it.”
I groaned, a sound of pure, unadulterated teenage anguish. He had me there. I glanced at the door, then back at Carl, who was already starting to unbutton his jeans.
“Okay, fine,” I relented, grabbing the tube of cream. “But you have to promise not to make it weird.”
“Just get it done,” he said pulling out his big limp cock.
He adjusted himself on the bed, giving me a look that dared me to comment. My eyes flickered down, then quickly back up to his face. My brother’s shaft was thick and long
“Well?” He said the stare he gave me was like a command.
I squeezed a generous dollop of the cream onto my fingertips. It was cool and slightly greasy. I hesitated for a moment, hovering my hand over his… area. This was definitely the weirdest thing I had ever done for him, and I had done a lot.
“Just… tell me where it itches the most,” I mumbled, trying to sound professional, like a doctor instead of a sister about to apply cream to her brother’s privates.
He directed me, a low groan escaping his lips. “Right there… and there… yeah, that’s it.”
As I gently massaged the cream into his skin, focusing on the areas he indicated, something changed. I could feel the heat radiating from his body, a subtle tension in his muscles. And then, I felt it. A slight… thickening. A subtle hardening beneath my fingertips.
My eyes darted upwards, meeting his. His gaze was intense, almost predatory. He was no longer focused on the itching. He was focused on me.
“Kelly…” he breathed, his voice raspy.
My hand froze. “Carl… what…?”
He closed his eyes, a small groan escaping his lips. I could feel the throbbing now, the unmistakable sign of arousal. “It feels… good,” he admitted, his voice barely a whisper.
My face flushed crimson. This was not part of the plan. This was so, so wrong. I tried to pull my hand away, but he gently stopped me, his fingers wrapping around my wrist.
“Don’t stop,” he murmured, his eyes still closed. “Please.”
He was so turned on by the way I was applying the cream to his shaft, it was like the itching was completely forgotten.
“Damn, your dick is so fucking big,” I said with my heart racing and I started to feel wet between my legs.
His eyes snapped open, a flicker of surprise in their depths. He looked down, then back up at me, a sheepish grin spreading across his face.
“You noticed, huh?” he said, a hint of playful arrogance in his voice.
I bit my lip, instantly regretting my impulsive remark. The air in the room was thick with unspoken tension, charged with a strange mix of embarrassment and burgeoning desire.
“I… I didn’t mean to say that out loud,” I stammered, my cheeks burning.
He chuckled softly, the sound sending a shiver down my spine. “It’s okay, Kelly. It’s just… weirdly…nice. What colour knickers are you wearing today?”
I swallowed hard, my mouth suddenly dry. The question caught me off guard, sending a jolt of electricity through my body.I couldn’t believe we were having this conversation, let alone the fact that I was still touching his now fully erect penis.
“I’m not wearing any,” I whispered, the words slipping out before I could stop them.
His eyes widened, a slow, predatory smile spreading across his face. “Not wearing any, huh? That’s… interesting.”
He shifted slightly, his hips tilting upwards, pressing his hardness more firmly against my palm. I could feel every ridge, every vein, the heat of him searing my skin. “You’re so hard,” I breathed, the words escaping me in a rush. “And big. Really big.”
He groaned, his head falling back against the pillow. “Keep talking like that, and I might just explode.”
I bit my lip, a surge of power rushing through me.
His words sent a thrill through me, a mix of excitement and nervousness. I glanced at the door, then back at Carl. We were taking a dangerous path, but the temptation was too great.
“You like it when I talk about your big cock, don’t you?” I whispered, my voice husky. “You like knowing how much I notice it, how much it turns me on. I am so tempted to lay on your bed and let you go to town on me.”
“Fuck, Kelly,” he groaned, his voice ragged. “You have no idea how much I want to give you a good seeing to.”
His words sent a surge of heat through my body, settling between my legs. I could feel the dampness growing, my panties becoming increasingly uncomfortable. I shifted, trying to ease the ache, but it only intensified. “You want to fuck me, don’t you?” I breathed, my voice barely audible.”You want to spread my legs and bury your big, hard cock inside me.”
He let out a low, guttural moan, his hips bucking slightly. “God, yes. please. Come on lay down and lift your nightie up. You already said you have no knickers on.”
Slowly, I stood up, my legs trembling slightly. I pulled my nightie up, revealing my bare bottom to him. I could feel his eyes on me, hungry and intense. I climbed onto the bed, lying down beside him, my head resting on the pillow.
He didn’t waste any time climbing on top of me. Carl’s weight settled onto me, his hard body pressing me into the mattress. I could feel every inch of him, from his muscular chest to his thick, throbbing erection nestled against my bare thigh. His hands roamed over my curves, squeezing and caressing, as if he was trying to memorize every contour.
He pushed his dick into my pussy, “Oh god, you’re so wet,” he groaned, his voice strained with effort as he slowly pushed his thick shaft into my tight hole.
“Mmm, yeah, I’m really wet for you, ahh yes.” I moaned, wrapping my legs around his waist to pull him deeper.”Your big cock feels so good inside me.”He began to thrust, his hips moving in a steady rhythm.
His hips snapped forward, driving his thick shaft deeper into my soaked pussy. The sensation was incredible, a delicious mix of pleasure and slight discomfort as my tight walls stretched to accommodate his size. I could feel every ridge and vein of his cock as it slid in and out, stimulating me in ways I’d never experienced before.
“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he grunted, his face contorting with pleasure.”I’ve never felt anything like this.”
I moaned loudly, arching my back to take him even deeper.”Harder,” I gasped, my nails digging into his back. “Fuck me harder, Carl.”
He obliged, his thrusts becoming more forceful and erratic. The bed creaked beneath us, the headboard slamming against the wall with each powerful drive of his hips. I wrapped my legs tighter around him, urging him on, lost in the throes of passion.
His hips pistoned relentlessly, his thick shaft plunging into my welcoming heat. The sound of our bodies slapping together filled the room, punctuated by our laboured breathing and moans of pleasure. I could feel the tension building inside me, my core tightening around his driving cock.
I panted, my own climax approaching rapidly. “Don’t stop, Carl. Please don’t stop.” I moaned as I stared between my legs, watching his cock slid in and out of my cunt. “You better not cum yet, ahh am enjoying this, feels so good. Wanna see my tits.”
He slowly pulled out, his wet cock glistening in the dim light. I watched, transfixed, as he climbed off the bed and stood at the foot of it, his erection bobbing slightly.
“Sit up,” he commanded, his gaze intense. “And take off your nightie.” I obeyed, sitting up and pulling the nightie over my head in one swift motion. I tossed it aside, leaving me completely naked before him. My breasts, full and heavy, swayed slightly with the movement. My nipples, already hard from arousal, tightened further under his gaze.
“Fuck, Kelly,” he breathed, his eyes roaming over my exposed flesh.
“Put your dick back in me, you can suck them while you fuck me,” I bit my lip I was far too turned on now.
Carl crawled back onto the bed, positioning himself between my spread legs. He leaned down, capturing one of my nipples in his mouth. He sucked hard, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud, sending jolts of pleasure straight to my core. His free hand kneaded my other breast, his fingers digging into the soft flesh.
As he lavished attention on my chest, I felt his hips shift, his thick shaft prodding at my entrance. With a slow, deliberate motion, he pushed inside, filling me completely. I gasped, my back arching off the bed, pressing my breast further into his mouth.
He began to move, his hips rolling in a steady rhythm. Each thrust pushed him deeper, his pelvis grinding against my clit with every inward stroke. The dual sensations of his mouth on my nipple and his cock buried inside me were overwhelming, pushing me closer to the edge with each passing second.
I moaned loudly, my hands clutching at his back as he continued to thrust into me. His pace quickened, his hips snapping forward with increasing force. The sound of our bodies slapping together echoed through the room, drowning out our laboured breathing and moans of pleasure. He released my nipple with a soft pop, trailing his lips up my chest and along my neck. His hot breath fanned against my ear, sending shivers down my spine.
“You like that, Kelly?” he murmured, his voice low and seductive. “You like it when I fuck you like this?” I nodded frantically, unable to form coherent words.
“Yes, Carl,” I panted, my voice breathy and filled with desire. “I love it when you fuck me like this. Your big cock feels so good inside me.” He groaned, his hips pistoning faster, each thrust driving him deeper into my welcoming heat.
His hands gripped my hips, his fingers digging into my flesh as he held me in place, using my body as leverage to drive himself even deeper. I could feel the tension building inside me, my core tightening around his driving cock.
“Oh god, Carl,” I gasped, my nails raking down his back. “I’m so close. Please don’t stop. I want to cum with you inside me.” He grunted in response, his thrusts becoming more erratic and forceful.
The sound of our bodies slapping together filled the room, punctuated by our laboured breathing and moans of pleasure. I could feel my climax approaching rapidly, the tension coiling tighter and tighter within me. Suddenly, he let out a low growl, his hips jerking erratically as he found his release. His hot seed spurted deep inside me, filling me completely.
The sensation of him cumming inside me was the final straw, pushing me over the edge into my own shuddering climax. I cried out, my body convulsing beneath him as wave after wave of pleasure washed over me. He collapsed on top of me, his weight pressing me into the mattress. Our ragged breathing filled the room as we both struggled to catch our breath. I could feel his heart pounding against my chest, the rhythmic thump echoing in my ears. After a few moments, he slowly pulled out, his softening cock slipping from my still-spasming pussy.
I winced slightly as he withdrew, the sensation of emptiness almost as intense as the fullness had been moments earlier. He rolled off me, lying beside me on the bed. I turned to face him, my eyes meeting his. There was a sense of intimacy between us now, a connection forged through the intensity of our shared experience.
“That was amazing,” I whispered, reaching out to stroke his cheek gently.
“Thank you, Carl.” He smiled, his eyes warm and filled with affection.
“No, thank you, Kelly. That was incredible.” We lay there for a while longer, basking in the afterglow of our passionate encounter.