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“Mom!” Caitlin said, “he’s fucking doing it again.”
At the sound, Brad’s mother stormed up the stairs and into her son’s room. He was hurriedly trying to hide the evidence, but as he stuffed his sister’s panties underneath his pillow, his mother grabbed them out of his hand.
“Christ, Bradley,” she said, too exhausted to even be angry, “we talked about this.”
“Sorry Mom,” Bradley said, hanging his head. Not from remorse, however – he’d worked out that if he looked down while his mother was talking to him, he had a clear view down his mother’s top. Her huge tits were so close, so close that he could reach out and grab them…but he held back, figuring he was in enough trouble for the day.
Maybe tomorrow he’d find some excuse to “brush against them”, get a proper feel of the tits he’d been eyeing off for so long.
Fifteen minutes of lecturing later, his mother was gone. Making sure to close the door the whole way this time, he reached under his mattress, and pulled out the bra he’d pilfered from his mother’s laundry basket the night before.
He was going to coat it with his cum, let it dry, and put it back in her clean pile. The image of her walking around all day with his semen pressed up against her skin was enough to get him off within just a few minutes…
Once he was done, he considered jerking off again, but the need had passed. He briefly considered sending his sister a dick pic – he’d sent her one a few weeks ago, and the knowledge that she’d seen his cock (and her angry reaction) had been so good, it had been worth losing his rights to borrow the family car.
Bradley was a pervert. It had reached the point where his family had stopped being grossed out by his antics, and just resignedly accepted it as a part of having a son. To make matters worse, his sister Caitlin was a golden child. She was head cheerleader, popular with everyone: her peers, boys, even managing to avoid the typical high-school dramas and getting along with the rest of the squad.
Where Bradley was shunned by the entire school as a known sleaze-bag, she was the beloved perfect model of what a teenager should be.
She was an ideal specimen of attractiveness as well. Tall, blonde, slim and muscular – her clean lines were only broken up by the chest she’d inherited from her mother, but she even managed to own that, dressing to emphasize her huge breasts. Bradley had a habit of “accidentally” walking in on her in the shower. Once she’d even decided to experiment with ignoring him, turning her back and letting him look at her perfect ass – she’d almost thrown up when she turned back around a few minutes later and he was gone…leaving strings of semen on the shower door.
Bradley hadn’t been punished for that incident – he suspected she’d either been so grossed out that she couldn’t even bring herself to tell their parents, or that she’d been worried her actions would be seen as encouraging him.
Either way, she’d bought a lock for the bathroom door after that, and he’d never been able to repeat the experience.
Instead of jerking off once more, Bradley decided to keep translating the book he’d found in the attic. When he wasn’t being a world-class pervert, Bradley was a hobbyist linguist – he’d originally taken a language class because he thought the teacher was hot, but to his surprise he’d really gotten into it.
His family were happy he’d found a hobby, and happily paid for the various textbooks and website subscriptions that encouraged him to do something – anything – aside from torment his sister.
It didn’t help his popularity at school, of course – even before he’d earned himself a permanent place at the bottom of the social ladder for his attitude and actions towards his women, escort kartal he’d been heading there with his geeky pursuits and total lack of social skills.
Everything he did was a disappointment to his parents – they’d wanted a son who was popular, handsome, and good at sports. What they’d gotten, instead, was Bradley.
He had long since resigned himself to his place in life, and now just enjoyed the freedom it gave him. When no one has any expectations of you, you can do anything, and so he would spend his evenings stealing his family members’ underwear, crudely propositioning his sister, and – when the mood struck – translating ancient tomes.
Currently, he was on a page that had two figures in the middle, one standing imposingly above the other. A single word was written around the page – the same word, again and again.
“Let’s see,” he murmured to himself, furrowing his brow. “This font looks like prototypical Greek, but it’s like someone who didn’t speak the language trying to translate it into…what is that, Latin?”
He consulted one of the many foreign dictionaries he had on his shelf, hidden behind a stack of porno magazines.
“Change? Is that what it’s…oh wait, no: switch! That’s the ticket. Switch. Switch. Switch.”
As he read the word over and over, a strange tingling sensation went up his arm, and he was suddenly overcome by an intense drowsiness.
With a yawn, he closed the book and switched off the light.
Must have overdone it today, he thought to himself, laying down and falling asleep the moment his head touched the pillow. Had he stayed awake for just a minute or two longer, he would have seen a strange glow come from the book, a glow which quickly started filling the room.
The next morning, Bradley woke up to a strange sight.
His sister was in front of him, an odd leer on her face. He sat up with a start – something was wrong. She never came into his room.
“Hey Caitlin…” he said cautiously. “What’s up?”
“Just watching you sleep,” she said. “You know you get a hard-on in the morning?”
“Uh, yeah,” he replied, too weirded out to register the purr in her voice. “It’s called morning wood.”
“I like it,” she said, and moved one hand down between her legs. “It gets me wet.”
What the fuck? he thought to himself, but before he could respond, he could hear his mother walking down the hall.
Caitlin immediately moved her hand out from between her legs, but made no efforts to leave – she continued standing there, an odd look on her face.
“Caitlin!” their mother said, “oh God, you’re not in Bradley’s room again are you? You know how creepy that is, honey. Just let your brother wake up in peace, okay?”
“Sure Mom,” Brad’s sister said with a roll of her eyes. Bradley just continued to stare at her, confused, as she walked out, stopping at the doorway to glance at his morning hard-on once more.
That was weird… he thought to himself, but after running through the morning’s events for a few minutes, decided it must have been the remnant of a dream. His sister coming into his room and talking about a boner? That was exactly the kind of scenario that showed up regularly in his night-time fantasies.
Dismissing the thought, he hid in the hallway until he saw his mother leave her room, and then sneaked in to switch out one of her clean bras with the one he’d taken the previous night.
The rest of the day passed without incident. Bradley spent half the day sitting in the front of the class (when he had a hot teacher he could ogle) and the other half sitting at the back, drawing tits in his schoolbooks and fantasizing about the girls in the seats next to him.
To maltepe escort his surprise, when they caught him checking them out, they didn’t roll their eyes or call on the teacher like they normally would. They just ignored him, continuing with their work as if they hadn’t noticed anything at all. One of them even smiled back at him.
Must be my lucky day, Bradley thought, taking the opportunity to be even more obvious about trying to looking down their tops and up their skirts.
Finally, the school day was ended. When Bradley returned home, he was surprised to find his sister walking out of his room, a smug look on her face.
Typically his sister didn’t come near him unless she was absolutely forced to, and over the last few years, their parents had spent less and less time trying to force them together.
What is she up to? Bradley mused to himself. He knew that for a while she’d gotten it into her head that she could “fix” him, that his behavior was something that could be changed through positive reinforcement or whatever. She’d sat down to ask what he wanted, eventually being forced to walk out when he’d gone into intricate detail about her wet folds sliding down his cock, until he pumped so much cum into her that she was like a big, wet, fleshy balloon.
She hadn’t told their parents about that conversation either.
In response to the puzzled look on his face, Caitlin pushed her shoulders back haughtily. He was so distracted by the sudden flaunting of her tits that he completely forgot to make a wise-crack about her being in his room, instead just enjoying the view as she walked down the hallway in a short skirt that showed off her legs.
Inside his room, he considered jerking off again, imagining lifting up the skirt and copping a feel of her ass, or lubing up and taking it as roughly as she deserved – but instead he found himself oddly drawn to the book he’d been translating the day before.
He turned the page, and was surprised to find the same word surrounding another image – this one seemed even more sexual to him, but he’d learned to tune that out. Everything seemed sexual to him.
“Switch. Switch. Switch.” he muttered, imagining the girl kneeling in front of the silhouetted man was his sister.
Again, a wave of fatigue hit him, but he fought through it – it was barely 4pm; going to sleep so early was a ridiculous idea. He pulled out his dictionary again – there were more words at the bottom of the page. A phrase, repeated over and over, just as “switch” had been. He ran his finger down the pages of his Greco-Latin dictionary, trying to work out what the next few words could mean.
After almost an hour, he was forced to give up. Working out “switch” had clearly been a blessing – either whoever had written the book had no grasp of the languages he was writing (or translating from) or he just wasn’t skilled enough to translate it. He decided to go and torment his sister, maybe get himself riled up enough to shake off the wave of tiredness that hadn’t left him since he’d gotten home, and then return to his room and jerk off.
His sister’s door was closed, but Bradley had long stopped letting that slow him down. He opened it up and strode in unannounced, in the hope he’d find his sister in some kind of compromising position.
No luck. She was on her computer, looking at…
He did a double-take. Was that porn? Or had music videos just gotten way more extreme since he’d last been on YouTube?
“Hey Bradley,” she sneered, distracting him from the contents of her computer screen.
“Uh, hi,” he replied, slightly thrown.
“What can I do for you?”
She sat up, and spread her legs. Instinctively he looked between them, and pendik escort bayan was surprised to find that she did nothing to stop him. He could see her white cotton panties, and it was clear from the lack of hairs poking out the sides that she kept herself shaved, or at least neatly trimmed. That had changed since she’d started locking the shower door.
He stood there, open-mouthed, as his sister did nothing to stop him from staring at her barely-covered pussy. She just continued to leer at him, and as the minutes ticked by, a wet spot appeared in the centre of the white cloth.
What the fuck is going on? he asked himself, not wanting to voice his confusion, or in fact do anything that would stop the show. Is she trying a new system? Is she trying to tame me?
…or is the slut into me?
Something had happened to Brad’s sister, and he liked it.
Finally, after what felt like hours, Caitlin snapped her legs shut.
“Show’s over,” she sneered. “Unless, of course, you want to join me in the shower.”
A smile spread over Bradley’s face as he finally clued into what was happening. She had clearly decided to get him once and for all – she probably had a hidden camera in the bathroom, and if he fell for her bait and followed her, she’d have video evidence of his perversions and within a day or two, the footage would be shown to their parents.
He wasn’t sure what the consequences would be, but he wasn’t interested in finding out.
“Nice try,” he said calmly, and when Caitlin stood up to leave, resisted the temptation to react as she pressed up against him. Who knew where she had a camera hidden – no, he was better off ignoring his sister’s obvious ploy, at least until he’d worked out her plan.
She left the room, and he could soon hear the sound of the shower running. He took the opportunity to try to see if there was a camera hidden somewhere in her room – he didn’t immediately find anything, and instead pilfered a few pairs of her panties; Brad was so rarely left alone in Caitlin’s room, he decided to take full advantage of the situation.
Before long, he was making his way back into his room and rubbing one out, imagining his sister in the next room, standing naked under the water, picturing himself standing above her and cumming onto her tits.
He didn’t bother closing the door – his family had long since gotten used to the fact that Brad would masturbate unashamedly at all hours, and only went up to his end of the hallway when it was absolutely necessary.
Moaning his sister’s name, he soon came all over a set of her cotton underwear. He considered returning them back to the drawer, but at the sound of the shower turning off, decided not to risk it. He didn’t know what his sister’s game was yet, and so he decided to take it easy until he’d worked it out.
The book caught the corner of his eye, and he turned to it, suddenly inspired. Stuffing his sister’s cum-soaked panties into a drawer, he stood up, pulled out a pen, and started writing out the characters from the next sentence. Bradley was so intrigued by his little hobby that he didn’t even notice the slight stickiness of the pen in his hand.
He’d been assuming that the writer had continued writing in the same language, but it was clear that for whatever reason, they’d switched. This looked mesoamerican – Mayan? Scribbling down the letters from the next few words, assuming they were written in the Mayan text, it quickly became clear what the author was trying to say.
“Switch. Switch. Switch.” Brad said, putting the whole thing together. “Low to high. High to low. Low to high, high to low.”
Again, a wave of fatigue hit him, faster than before. He was so overwhelmed by it that he physically staggered back, collapsing onto the bed and falling asleep before he could even pull his pants up.
Just seconds after his eyes closed, the book began to glow once more, this time filling not just his room, but the entire house.
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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