A Sister's Gentle Hand
The smell hit only after I'd pulled out, satisfied, from the kid's mixed bathing and nursing handjob. It came from me, of course. Three times in two days—no wonder the stench lingered. I glanced at the kid. She was still smacking her lips. She'd probably swallowed half a cup of the stuff I'd dumped on her, yet she kept at it even while complaining it tasted bad. Typical post-nut brain fog. Unlike when I'd been mindlessly thrusting earlier, the world around me was starting to come back into focus.
"Kid, I'm gonna take a shower."
I grabbed the pants I'd tossed aside and headed for the bathroom, but she caught my arm.
"?? What now."
She was still completely naked. Even though she'd been licking the mess off her lips since earlier, she hadn't managed to clean even half of it away.
"Let's go in together~"
Come to think of it, we'd done this from the very first day. Even through the static-filled memories, I could vaguely recall showering with this thing. ...My past self, treating bathing with my "sister" as perfectly normal, was impressive in its own twisted way. Still, I might as well play along. It was easier to act the part of the brother she wanted than to risk pissing her off.
"Uh... sure?"
"Yeah, yeah. Then, oppa."
"Huh?"
"Go in first. I'll do something nice for you again... okay?"
...
I stepped into the bathroom and rinsed myself off. A little later, the kid—still naked—came in carrying a low plastic bath stool.
"Excuse me~"
"What? No need to be so formal."
I answered casually while standing under the shower, but I couldn't help stealing glances at her body. Maybe it was because I'd just finished earlier, but even when she suggested we shower together, I hadn't really thought much of it. Now, though, I noticed everything: the way her breasts bounced with every step, the drying slickness still clinging to her thighs, the damp strands of hair at her forehead from the bathroom steam. Once I noticed, my cock was already standing at full attention again, as if what had happened moments ago belonged to someone else.
The bathroom was cramped. Nowhere to hide. Her eyes locked straight onto my erection.
"Pihihi... such a pervert..."
Grinning with mischief, she set the stool down on the floor, sat on it, and patted her thighs.
What now? Was she going to wash my hair?
"Oppa, wanna rest your head here?"
"You want me to lie on the floor?"
"Yeah, yeah. Hurry~"
Confused but curious, I did as she said. The soft give of her thighs met the back of my head. Lying on my back, I could look up at her body for the first time. Until now I'd only ever looked down. Even from below, her face and figure were still beautiful. The way she gazed down at me—like I was something precious—felt almost like a real sister's warmth.
"It's the opposite of before."
She only smiled with her eyes and didn't answer. The position was strangely embarrassing. It felt like a child resting on their mother's lap. But doing this naked was something no ordinary mother and child could ever do. Worse, my cock—painfully hard since earlier—ruined whatever domestic atmosphere had formed. Even calling her my "sister" created a strange sense of immorality, and the gap between the scene and that word only made it stronger.
Twitch, twitch—
Maybe because of what she'd said before coming in, my cock started throbbing with some vague anticipation.
"Puhi... what are you thinking about, oppa? Hm~?"
I had my own share of shame. It wasn't easy to stay calm with her pale, glistening breasts right in front of me and that innocent face staring down while she stroked me. Without answering, I felt my face flush and tried to look away—when a cool, unfamiliar sensation touched my heated shaft.
Stroke, stroke... stroke... stroke...
A shiver of pleasure ran from my twitching cock all the way to my head. Startled, I looked over. The kid was staring straight into my eyes, a gentle smile on her lips, slowly—very slowly—stroking my wet cock with her hand.
"Ugh... ah..."
A moan slipped out naturally. I'd expected something when she told me to lie down, but I hadn't thought it would be a handjob. Well, maybe I'd half-guessed. The position gave it away. Still, receiving a handjob while using my "sister's" thighs as a pillow—without lifting a finger—was far more pleasurable than I'd imagined. Her pace was noticeably slower than when I did it myself or when she'd done it the day before. But the setting, combined with the sight of her breasts swaying right above me, created a pleasure on an entirely different level.
Stroke—stroke—
She still hadn't said a word. Her lips were curved, but it wasn't a mocking smile. It was the look of an older sister watching her little brother, or a mother watching her child.
"You seem more like a big sister than a little one... ugh... ngh..."
Even when I tried to hide my embarrassment with words and let out girlish moans, she only gave a small, breathy laugh. She kept stroking me in silence, slow and steady. This was dangerous. Her appearance had already been my type from the start, but being worn down with such tender persistence made it impossible to stay guarded. She looked at me with the warm eyes of real family, while her hand moved with an intensity that completely contradicted that gaze.
She wasn't just stroking. Her fingers slid along the entire length, then on the return stroke her palm pressed close enough to brush against the head. To keep the pleasure from dulling or becoming familiar, she sometimes pinched the tip between her fingers and gave it quick little shakes, or lightly scratched the sensitive spots that twitched at her touch with her nails. Whenever she sensed I was close to coming, she slowed down even more to delay it.
"Haa... hng... ugh..."
While I was panting, lost in sensation, she brought her other hand to her own body. Then she started shaking her breasts—the very ones I'd been staring at and using as masturbation material—making them bounce.
"Wanna suck?"
Her first words since starting were short, but their meaning hit me clearly. Instead of answering, I greedily stuck out my tongue and tasted her nipple. She trembled slightly, but her smile remained. Her breathing grew a little rough as she held back her moans, and her cheeks flushed, yet she continued stroking me at the same gentle, unchanging pace.
I licked the pink, glistening tip, took it into my mouth and rolled it around. Soon even that wasn't enough. I began sucking on her entire breast, stuffing as much as I could into my mouth.
"Good... pretty..."
Now she wore the expression of someone hopelessly endeared, indulging her pathetic older brother who clung to her chest like a child while his cock twitched. The usual playful attitude was gone. In its place was a quiet seriousness, as if she were pouring all her affection into this moment. Before I knew it, I'd been swept up in the atmosphere she'd created and was sucking on her breast in a frenzy. Shame had long since been forgotten. All that mattered was losing myself in the pleasure she gave, like a spoiled child.
Stroke, stroke, stroke, stroke, stroke—
Her hand sped up just a little. Even without words, she seemed to sense that my orgasm was becoming urgent and unstoppable. In truth, my knees were already shaking; I was desperate to come right then and there. The thought of shooting my load into her hand while sucking on her breast filled my mind completely.
I pulled my mouth away from the breast I was clutching.
"I'm gonna come... I'm gonna come, kid... I wanna come... can I...?"
"Yeah, oppa. Where do you want to come?"
It wasn't her usual coy, drawn-out voice. The calm tone she'd used these past two days made me want to act even more spoiled.
"Hng... ha... your hand... I wanna come in your hand... in your hand..."
"Okay. You can come in my hand. Let's make it a lot."
Stroke, stroke, stroke, stroke, stroke, stroke, stroke—
The sound of my cock rubbing against her hand filled the bathroom.
Stroke, stroke, stroke, stroke, stroke, stroke, stroke—
"I'm... I'm coming... I'm gonna come... I'm gonna come..."
"Yeah, come. I love you, oppa."
Spurt—spuuuurt—spurt—spurt—spurt—
It was an unfair move. That sudden confession of love, coming right after she'd maintained that gentle demeanor the whole time, made my body convulse so hard I thought my hips might give out. Of course, I didn't forget to keep sucking noisily on her breast the entire time, shooting my load so high it nearly hit the ceiling. Just like always, even while I was coming she didn't stop her hand, stroking me at the same pace as before.
"Huu... ugh... hng... hah..."
I let out weak moans as her hand kept squeezing and stroking my oversensitive cock right after orgasm. At this point, nothing mattered anymore. The sight of this self-proclaimed little sister, covered in the semen I'd just shot onto her hands, stomach, and chest in the steam-filled bathroom, looked so lovely that I no longer cared what happened to me or what state I ended up in.