All These Roadworks introduction:
The following text is the first chapter of Not All Men (But Definitely My Brother) by Apophenia. If you love it – and I think you will – you can find out what happens next by buying the complete e-book in the ATR store for only $4.99 USD! (Click here to view in store.)
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Attending the same college at the same time as my brother was both a blessing and a curse. Living together meant saving money — but also living with his obnoxious parties every weekend.
At twenty-one, Jordan was a year older, so we didn’t share all the same classes, at least. His friends weren’t mine, either, though the girls weren’t so bad. In the living room, the guys played video games or poker. Sometimes both at once. I don’t know how that worked.
I sat with the girls in the kitchen, getting drunk. They usually talked shit about someone in class or a professor they hated. I nodded along while mixing another margarita. If there was one good thing about these parties, it was the alcohol the guys brought. The drama was funny to listen to, also.
Until I caught my brother’s name in their mouths.
Ella, a redhead who I was pretty sure hated all guys, said, “Ugh, men, you know? Jordan’s the worst of them all.” She waved toward the living room. “Fucks everything that moves, gropes everything else.”
She wasn’t even trying to be quiet. The other girls laughed and nodded. They were in his apartment (our apartment, but anyway), being assholes to the host. I sucked down my margarita and said, “My brother’s a good guy.” I might’ve emphasized the ‘brother’ part a bit.
The girls shared a smile. Ella huffed. “Maybe he’s nice to you, but we all know better than to be alone with some guys.”
I scoffed, “I know my brother. Not all men are awful. He’s the nicest guy I know.”
Ella smirked and lowered her voice. “If you think he’s such a good person, why don’t you volunteer and see what happens?”
She tilted her head toward the hall.
I laughed, but she didn’t. She had to be joking. “No way. I’m not going in there. My brother probably won’t even win.”
The reason my brother hosted parties was this crazy game he liked to play. A girl, usually drunk, stripped naked in his bedroom, and waited for the night’s video game or poker winner. Whatever happened was like Vegas — no one talked about it, it stayed in that room. Participation wasn’t required, but someone usually volunteered.
“I’ll make sure he wins,” Ella said. “He already does half the time anyway. If he knows someone new is in there, he’ll win for sure.”
I nervously threw together another margarita. I had never volunteered, and never would. I was only at the party because I lived here. “No, I know my brother. I don’t need to prove anything.”
She shrugged, and the conversation moved on. Thank goodness, because my face was starting to get warm. I would never admit it to anyone, but I had thought about sex with my brother before. Not seriously, of course, just dumb, idle thoughts that were perfectly natural, I’m sure. He was objectively hot. Tall, ripped, dark, handsome — the whole package.
Right, that was enough drooling over my brother.
One of the girls opened another bottle of tequila. Halfway through my third margarita, the room felt fuzzy. I didn’t usually get drunk so quickly. Maybe I was tired.
The girls’ voices went in and out, sometimes louder, sometimes quieter. I rubbed my eyes and rested my head on the back of the couch. I just needed to close my eyes for a minute.
“… you ok?”
I wasn’t sure which one of the girls said that. My eyelids were too heavy. It was an effort to make even a small noise.
Someone shook my shoulder, and it felt like the whole world shook. Then I was somehow standing up, though mostly I was leaning sideways against someone. Multiple hands steadied me. I mumbled my thanks. Then I tripped on my feet because the ground was moving. The women held on tighter and kept me upright. I blinked and found myself face down, but the ground wasn’t hard. My head was on a pillow. Oh, I was on a bed.
My clothes slid off, which made sense if I was going to bed. Straps tightened around my wrists and ankles. That seemed strange. But the room had stopped moving, and I was glad. My head felt so weird.
A sharp sting on my ass, and a resounding crack shocked my a little more awareness into my senses. The women’s voices clarified.
At the foot of the bed, Ella said, “For your sake, I hope you’re right, Maddie!”
“She’s so screwed,” someone laughed. The laughter seemed to echo.
Several women said, “Have fun!”
Muffled snorts and giggles grew distant. I drifted off to sleep.
The next thing I heard was the door clicking shut. It was a quiet sound at the edge of my fuzzy consciousness. I almost fell back asleep when a male voice said, “Aren’t you a kinky little slut?”
The low drawl slowly wove through my hazy brain. He couldn’t have been talking to me. I wasn’t a slut. Definitely not kinky.
“All tied up and spread out for me. Mmm… tasty.”
His voice was familiar, though. He sounded kind of like my brother when he teased me about my boyfriends.
I shifted, pulling at straps that I’d forgotten about. There was also something in my mouth. When did that happen? Chewing on cloth, I made a confused sound.
He chuckled. “Normally, I’d ask if you have a condom. But you don’t look like you care…”
Condom? Why would he need a condom? Ugh, it was so hard to think. I whimpered quietly and let the thoughts fall out of my mind. Much easier to just relax.
“Look at you. What kind of self-respecting woman puts herself in this position?”
I hadn’t. Had I? I couldn’t remember how I ended up like this — bound to a bed, gagged, and naked. This didn’t feel normal. I just couldn’t pinpoint why.
A nagging feeling in the back of my woozy head kept returning to the familiarity of his voice. But he couldn’t be my brother. Even as out of it as I was, I knew that much. My brother was a good person. If he found a naked woman bound hand and foot, he’d help her. This guy didn’t sound very helpful.
The flat of his hand mauling my ass didn’t help me at all. Only my boyfriend should touch my bare ass. I didn’t have a boyfriend at the time. I think. I wasn’t sure.
My groggy brain processed rustling cloth and the bed dipping between my legs. Faint alarms began to ring. He slapped my ass and squeezed again. My legs were spread wide open. I still couldn’t speak. This wasn’t good. I pushed at the gag with my tongue, mumbling a few quiet noises. Communication was key in situations like this. Maybe the tone of my noises was enough?
He didn’t seem to get the message. His fingers slid to my pussy. “I bet you like it rough, little whore. Do you like this? Hmm? Is your little pussy wet?”
Ohh, that rubbing did feel good. I wish he wouldn’t call me a whore, though. I hadn’t asked to be tied up. I was just trying to sleep. That’s what I assumed, anyway. Why else would I be on a bed?
The back and forth massage of my slit sent tingles up my spine, chasing away coherent thoughts. Moving was difficult, but I managed to tilt my ass back. Whew, that was exhausting. I relaxed my hips.
His derisive chuckle sounded nothing at all like my brother. “Dumb, horny cunt. That’s what you are. That’s what all women are.”
I didn’t like his tone. But I liked his hand, and a few strokes of my clit later, I completely forgot what he said. It must not have been important. Much more interesting was the slick gliding between my legs as his fingers drew up and down my pussy. The tingling pleasure was like champagne in my brain. I giggled softly and moaned.
“Yeah, that feels good, doesn’t it? Slut. You’re just like all the other sluts who walk in here. So easy. So stupid.”
His finger pushed inside me as I finally remembered where ‘here’ was. Memories of my brother’s party flashed behind my eyelids. This was my brother’s room. I was tied up on my brother’s bed. Whoever won their game thought I volunteered. Oh, no.
But the pressure of his finger curling against a wonderfully sensitive spot sent tingles to my toes, and I lost my train of thought once again. It was so easy to give in to the pleasure. After all, why shouldn’t I?
Why shouldn’t I enjoy the faster and faster pumping as his finger — oh, two fingers now, that was nice — explored my slippery pussy? As he rubbed my clit while mumbling something about what a whore I was. Sure, his tone was ugly, but he wasn’t fucking me with his mouth. Though it would be nice if he did. Yeah, his tongue on my clit would be great just about now.
I relaxed into the sensations. He moved, his legs straddling mine, and his body lowering onto my back. Warm skin. Bare legs. A rod of hard, hot flesh resting against my inner thigh. He was like a weighted blanket crushing me into the bed. If only blankets came with massaging dildos like his expert fingers. Mmm…
Pleasure coiled between my legs. I floated in it, carefree and empty-headed. His weight put me in a strange state of helplessness where I felt like everything would be alright if I trusted him. It made no sense when I thought about it later. But right then, all I wanted was the wet sliding in and out of my pussy. Maybe a little more pressure on my clit. Ah, yes, just like that.
My inner muscles clenched, and a wave of bliss washed over me. I didn’t usually cum so easily. My head felt stuffed full of cotton as I moaned into the pillow.
“… a little whore. I’m going to make you my little cock whore.”
I barely heard him through the ringing in my ears. A pathetic whine whispered from my lips as his fingers withdrew. I liked his fingers. They made me feel good.
Velvety soft heat moved up my thigh. I’d forgotten about that hard rod. By the time my lagging brain realized it was a cock, the shaft was pressed against my wet slit, rubbing in my juices. The up-and-down gliding was soothing. I had no idea why a kernel of dread stuck in my chest.
I was so relaxed, I almost drifted off again. Pressure between my legs yanked my attention back. My pussy reluctantly opened for the insistent cock slowly forcing its way into my body. Remnants of sleep disappeared as his thick shaft drove deeper and deeper. Delicious heat washed over me.
“Tight for a whore.” His mouth was right next to my ear. He pulled out and thrust back in. “I like tight, hot, dumb cunts. You’re going to feel so good wrapped around my cock.”
It was strange hearing my brother’s voice say those awful things. He would never. This guy’s crude language was the worst part of all this. This guy… whose name I couldn’t remember. I should know the name of whoever I had sex with. That was odd. But, ohh, his big dick felt great stretching me as it drove in another inch, and another.
Deep, deep inside me he sank until his pelvis flattened my ass. The feel of his cock impaling me was so much more intense than his fingers. My back arched, and relaxing became impossible. My inner muscles twitched. I felt like I was on the verge of another orgasm already.
He withdrew slowly and drove purposefully all the way back inside me. Thrust, pull out, thrust again. I moaned with each long, thorough stroke. Sex had never felt so good. Vaguely, I wished I knew his name. It made me uncomfortable not knowing his name.
“Fuck,” he hissed. “You’re making a mess, slut. I’ve fucked a lot of girls, and none of them have been as wet as you.”
His voice agitated me even as his cock sent electric pleasure up my spine. Every time he spoke, it felt like my brother was fucking me. I shuddered, then moaned as his cock slammed into me harder.
My brother… Jordan must be wondering where I was by now. Would he check in here? Probably not. He knew what I thought about his crazy parties.
That’s right. This was Jordan’s bedroom, and he was having a party. My head cleared slightly. Oh, fuck, that meant I was the volunteer. I didn’t remember volunteering. Stripping naked and letting a random guy fuck me as his prize had never sounded fun, no matter how drunk I was.
But I did feel really good right now. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea.
“I can feel you squeezing my cock,” he groaned. “Ready to cum for me again? Do it, slut. Be the filthy fuck doll you are and cum just because I told you to. Cum for me, whore!”
Hot tension burst between my legs. He pounded me so incredibly hard and fast as my inner muscles spasmed out of control, just like he wanted, just like he demanded. Maybe it was his command and his crude words that set me off, but I was a little embarrassed that my brother’s voice turned me on so much. He wasn’t my brother, though, so it was fine.
He thrust quickly and steadily, his cock massaging the depths of my twitching tunnel, stretching out my orgasm with each firm stroke. I was only half-conscious at best when the edge of my pleasure finally faded. His cock still felt amazing, though. I think his cock could have felt amazing for hours, sliding in and out, fucking me for as long as he wanted.
If I hadn’t noticed the ring on his hand.
As I panted for breath, a glint of green caught my eye. His hand was pressed against the pillow next to my face. On his middle finger was the dreadful little ring. I blinked and stared at it. I knew that ring. Emerald set in silver. My grandmother’s ring. The one she’d given to my brother.
The pumping between my legs sped up. My breathing stopped. Jordan would never give away that ring. My brother loved that ring.
He groaned and buried the full length of his cock deep in my hot pussy. His fingers curled into a fist. The ring was right in my face, mocking me as my brother fucked my pussy as hard as he could.
My brother was fucking me.
Worse, I came on his cock.
Oh, god, he didn’t know who he was fucking.
His lips brushed my ear, and a shiver raced to my clit. I strangled a moan as he murmured, “I bet a dumb cunt like you isn’t on birth control. Your mistake. I’m going to breed you. Yeah, I really shouldn’t. Terrible idea. But you know what? The thought of putting a baby in your belly is so fucking hot. Fuck, you feel so good.”
He felt good, too. Amazing.
No. No, I had to focus. My brother couldn’t cum inside me! Of all the people in the world, not my own brother!
I sucked in air and frantically pulled at my limbs. He fucked me so hard, my flailing wasn’t much different from how much he bounced my body. I don’t think he noticed. I certainly didn’t make any progress.
His next low groan spiked my panic. His cock felt harder and thicker. It was so deep inside me, bumping right up against my unprotected cervix. That internal pressure was usually uncomfortable, but right then, all my body registered was pleasure — the ecstatic, wonderful pleasure of being filled and stretched just the right amount by the best cock I’d ever felt.
If only that cock didn’t belong to my brother.
Whore, he called me. Slut. My brother was a good person. But I couldn’t reject the ring on his finger, and his terribly familiar voice breathing into my ear. Not only had I been very wrong about my brother, I was turned on by his touch. His words. His body. And, yes, fuck me, his cock. I couldn’t cum again. I wouldn’t. Not now that I knew. No…
His next hard thrust slammed against my flimsy resistance, and I gasped as my pussy clenched around his pulsing shaft. Oh, fuck, he was cumming. So was I. I had to stop him. I couldn’t even stop myself. Ahh…
“Oh, yeah, cum on my cock while I breed you, slut! Ungh, fuck. Fuck, yes!”
I wailed helplessly as my brother’s hot sperm poured into my fertile pussy. He thrust himself deeper, his cum splattering and pooling in the back of my tunnel. My spasming inner muscles helpfully milked every illicit drop from his balls. No… oh, no… but also, yes… fuck, yes!
“Damn,” he panted. Bucking his hips a few more times, he collapsed on my back, breathing heavily. “That was a good pussy. Now get off my bed and quit making a mess.”
His bed. I shivered.
His cock slipped out. Warm fluids followed. I didn’t dare make a sound while he loosened my straps. Now that he was finished, I didn’t want him to know who I was. It was better if he thought I was just another random girl.
When I heard him close the door to the bathroom, I stumbled out of his room and into mine. I should take a shower, too. Wash off my brother’s cum. Creamy liquid trailed down my thighs. I fell into bed, intending to wait for my brother to leave the bathroom.
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“Morning,” Jordan sang. “How’d my favorite sister sleep?”
I ducked my head over my plate of scrambled eggs. “Fine.”
He breezed past me, pulling my hair over my shoulder as he went. “Aw, you sound hungover. Did someone have a little too much fun last night?”
I shrank from his touch. “What? No. No, of course not.”
Chuckling, he moved into the kitchen. His soft laugh was exactly the same as I’d heard last night. I gulped water.
I fell asleep before I could shower last night. This morning, I woke up to dried cum between my legs. Any hopes of a horrible nightmare vanished with the sticky, sore feeling that was the reminder of a rough fuck.
The ring was still on his finger. I saw it out of the corner of my eye as he tucked my hair just now.
Shoving breakfast down my throat, I ran out the door faster than ever. I had class to get to, after all.
Halfway through the day, I almost managed to forget for a minute. Concentrating on lectures helped. I didn’t see anyone from the party until after my third class.
Ella pulled me aside. “We were so drunk last night. I don’t really remember, but… He didn’t… Did he?”
I couldn’t help the blush rising to my cheeks. She knew who won the game. All the girls at the party would know. “Yeah. I mean, no. No, of course not,” I spluttered.
She smiled in relief. “Right. He must have recognized you. Embarrassing, huh?”
“Mmhm,” I squeaked.
She was right. He should have recognized me. He wouldn’t have fucked me if he knew it was me. Maybe the room had been too dark.
My head throbbed. How was I supposed to ask my brother if he remembered having sex me? No, I couldn’t do that. Plus, he would never call me a slut. He’d never use that word for any woman. It couldn’t have been him. Maybe someone else had a similar ring, or I was mistaken. I had been so drunk. The room was dark.
Yeah, it couldn’t have been him. My brother was one of the good ones. He wouldn’t.
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Enjoying this story? Find out what happens next by buying the complete e-book of Not All Men (But Definitely My Brother), by Apophenia, in the ATR store for only $4.99 USD! (Click here to view in store.)
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