A/N: I don't even like Dersecest, but I wrote this for a friend. And it doesn't hurt to have some different types of stories on your account, so I guess I'm posting this so that you guys know I'm alive. You're welcome.
"Dave." There's a hint of annoyance in her voice, but it sounds forced to you. Through the suppressed want in her voice, her irritation sounds more like a plea, but you aren't going to answer it so easily.
"Yes, Rose?" Your own voice is far too sweet and innocent, taunting her almost, and she knows it if the way her expression tightens is any indication. You just barely keep from smiling.
The sigh she lets out is nothing short of impatient. She shifts on the bed, tugging on the thin chains holding her in place. They were her idea. Two cuffs wrap around her wrists, and two around her ankles. It's a simple design, but there are so many possibilities for it. All you need is a chain or two. The position you've chosen today is a classic - face in the mattress, on her knees, ass in the air. You love the way she looks like this. Rose hates being so vulnerable. Not that it really matters what position you put her in. She'll get off on it, anyway. "Dave, there's a difference between teasing and dragging something out so far that it kills the mood."
You understand what she's saying, but you don't believe it. Her skirt is on the floor halfway across the room, her panties (Rose hates that word, haha) slipped down only to mid-thigh to help restrict her movement. You have a very clear view. If she was as bored as she wanted you to believe, she wouldn't be so wet, and getting wetter by the minute. You know it. She knows it. But if she wants to pretend, then you'll play along and entertain her little fantasy.
"If you want me to hurry along, all you have to do is ask nicely." You reply. It's a miracle that you get that out with a straight face. Rose doesn't reply. She lets out a huff, shifting again, but stays quiet. You knew that would be her answer. It always is. You could keep this up for hours, and you would not be any closer to breaking through Rose's pride. It's thicker than the sun is wide, and more unbreakable that John's first and only attempt at a fruit cake. That's probably a bad metaphor. But she can't hear your thoughts, so you don't care. "Well, if you're going to keep to yourself, then I guess I'll just have to take my time." You drawl, purposely letting your Southern accent slip in. You see her just barely shudder, and your lips twitch into an almost-smile that is quickly subdued.
"Dave." She says your name again, but this time, it's more insistent. More pleading.
"Rose." You tease, grabbing the hem of her panties and pulling back, letting it snap against her thigh. The noise she makes is the least most dignified thing you've ever heard come out of her mouth, almost like a breathy squeak. She acts like she hates it, but you know her too well to buy it. Truth is, Rose loves this. The way you treat her in bed. She loves not having to be the one doing all of the thinking or plotting or planning. For once, she gets to just lay back and accept whatever she has coming to her.
The room is quiet, and the sharp, quick sound of your zipper sliding down makes her hips twitch. You don't think that she realized what she just did, but you grin anyway. "Damn, Rosie." You sigh. "I didn't know that you were so eager. You didn't used to be like that. Did getting fucked properly finally open you up?" You curl your hand into a fist, pressing a single knuckle against her opening. Rose gasps, quick and quiet, but you pick up on it nonetheless. "In more ways than one, I see."
She huffs, but whether it's because she doesn't like your crude remark, or because the slow pace actually is bothering her, you aren't sure. "Dave, if you want me to keep pretending that you're in control here and spare your fragile sense of masculinity, then you should hurry up before I decide to find out just how well you can handle a vibrator." You can't see her face with her lying face down, but you can hear her smirk in her voice. "I think it would be fascinating. We could even have multiple trials to see what intensities get you in just the right way, and finally answer the age-old question of whether or not exposure does actually numb you to a stimulus' effect."
You smack her hard on the ass for that, flattening your hand to hit the most area. Whatever Rose was going to add next gets drowned out by a low groan, and she curls in on herself a little as if that will help hide the way her body reacted to you. "That's awful convincing talk for someone who's hands are tied, Rosie." You hiss out, and you can almost feel when her arousal spikes to impressive new heights. You reach down to tug on the chain binding her hands to her ankles, and when you give it a yank, she whines. You wonder why she does this - talks big and acts so in control, just so that you'll hit her back down. There's probably a psychological reason for it, but you wouldn't know what it is. And, frankly, you don't care. "Why don't you apologize to me? Then maybe I'll consider helping you out. You're getting awfully wet down there, sis. These sheets aren't easy to clean, you know."
You know exactly what her answer is going to be. "No." Rose retorts, but her voice sounds a little strained. Her reply comes out a little bit more unsure than it would have been just a few minutes ago.
"Always so stubborn." You tisk, resting a hand on her ass. "Maybe while I have you here all nice and compliant, I'll try out that other hole you're so eager to keep to yourself."
That gets a reaction out of her, like you knew it would, and Rose actually struggles against her bonds for the first time. She doesn't try to go very far, just moving so that she can twist her head to look back at you. "You wouldn't." Her eyes are wide through her curtain of hair, but you don't see a plea in her eyes. Not even a little concern. Just defiance, bright and blazing.
She can't see your eyes behind your shades, and you delight in that little fact. Rose likes to act as though she's so good at reading you, and maybe she is. But your shades don't exactly help her out. If she could see your eyes though, she would only see stubbornness and determination.
You shift your hand, rubbing your thumb against the little puckered hole that Rose would never let you touch if her hands were untied. Her fingers twitch, tightening into fists, and she groans in protest. "D-Don't even think about it, Dave." The words come out almost as a growl, but you aren't buying it. Your grin widens.
"Oh, I'm thinking about it, Rose. I've got this nice little mental picture going on up here. I could sketch it out for you, but I think it would be easier to just show you what I mean." You rub your thumb in little circles, and Rose tenses up. You don't do that for too long though, moving your hands to the waistband of your pants. It's been getting a little tight in your boxers, so you shove those down with your pants and kick them away. It takes a moment of awkward fumbling, and you're relieved that Rose can't see you doing it. You don't need to give her another reason to get cocky because she'll latch onto it, hold on tight, and milk it for all it's worth.
You move forward, sliding your cock between Rose's thighs and moving up to press the tip of your cock against her clit, spreading the lips of her cunt around you as you do. Is that what you should call it? Vagina? Pussy? Her womanhood, of all things? Maybe you need to look this up online later so that your thoughts about your sister's genitalia are politically correct while at the same time not being too technical. Otherwise, you might as well start using words like glans, meatus, and corona to describe your dick. Very uncool.
Rose lets a groan slip out, and her hips move against you with just the barest hint of motion. Her face is probably red with more than just embarrassment, and you purposely keep your own hips completely still, even if every inch of you is aching to just sink into her already. You want to want her composure break. Every single fucking time, it's a battle of will to get her to. But she started slipping first this time, so you're golden. You can outlast her. You know that you can.
"What's that, honey? I couldn't quite hear that." You taunt as you reach for the lube, and Rose gasps quietly when you pop the cap and start rubbing it along your fingers. It might just be your imagination, but you swear that the bucking of her hips gets a little bit faster. A little bit needier. You respond by slipping your coated fingers between her cheeks and pressing your index finger against that little ring of muscle. "You say that you want me to get good and lubed up and fuck you hard in the butt?"
She twitches around you, and your hips buck in response. It's so painfully difficult not to press into her already, but you hold yourself back. "Dave, don't you fucking dare." Rose growls, glaring at you over her shoulder. "Don't you think for a single second that I- fuck!" Her little rant is cut off mid-way by you slipping your finger into her ass. The lube helps, but you seriously can't believe that she's this tight.
You press harder, and your finger slips in deeper. You twist your wrist, and Rose groans long and loud, trying to rut against your cock as you slowly start to pump your finger in and out. You hold her steady with a hand on her hip, and when you chuckle, she actually snarls at you. "Dave, you motherfucker-" She's glaring at you, and your grin is so wide that it's starting to hurt.
"If we're being technical, Rose, it's sisterfucker." You correct her. "Fucking my mom would just be weird." She looks just about ready to strangle you, and you're grateful for the chains. You press in a second finger quickly, maybe faster than she could handle it, and Rose's eyes roll back as she moans. Finally, a real moan from her. You reward her by moving your hips forward, grinding your cock against her clit. The noise she lets out is almost pathetic. It's like you opened the floodgates, and now Rose couldn't stop if she tried.
She can't seem to find the words to curse you out anymore, but she's far from quiet. "Dave, Jesus, I can't believe you- oh, God!" You notice that she's not quite begging, and the next thrust of your fingers is hard and quick, purposely rough.
It's getting hard to maintain your composure. Now that you've started rutting up against Rose you can't stop, grinding against her heat. You try not to think about how tight she is, sighing shakily. "It's pretty tight back here." You remark, and you somehow - somehow - manage to keep your voice even. "Think you're ready for my dick?" It's only polite to ask. You are nothing if not a gentleman.
"God, no, Dave-" Rose is shaking, her fingers gripping the bed sheet beneath her so tight that her knuckles are turning white.
"Sure you are." You say anyway, chuckling. You spread your fingers and are once again reminded of how tight she is while Rose keens, stuttering and panting beneath you. Her frustration is absolutely pliable. "You want me, don't you? Want me to fuck you until you can't even remember my name. Until you're screaming for it. Ain't that right, sis?"
Rose shakes her head slowly, almost like she's trying to convince herself more than you. "No…" She moans out, but the way she's clenching down around you, drawing you in deeper, makes you question how serious she is. "Unh- Dave, d-don't- you're too big. It's too- too tight. I- I can't-!"
You have her right where you want her. You squeeze her ass, hard, and she groans through her teeth. "You saying that you can't handle it, Rose?" The next thrust of your hips is particularly strong, and she gasps. "Is it too much for you?"
Again, she shakes her head, more frantic this time. "N-No! But-"
"You want me to stop?" You stroke your hand down her hips, reaching under her and sliding your hands up her shirt. You didn't bother to remove it during the less kinky foreplay, but her bra is unclasped, slipping down her shoulders, and you cup her breast in your hand. When you squeeze, Rose whimpers, practically shouting when you give her nipple a twist and a tug. "I didn't catch that." Your voice is a growl, and she all but sobs with arousal, all sense of dignity and restraint gone as she jerks her hips against yours frantically.
"Dave! Dave, please, Goddamn you, just- don't stop, just, just fuck me already, I can't take it, you fucking- ahh-!"
Rose screams as you plunge into, which covers up the noise you make because Jesus were you missing out by teasing as long as you were. She's so hot that it burns, and at this point, you couldn't stop even if you wanted to, slamming into her as hard as you can. She actually snarls at you when you pull your fingers out of her ass, but you can't keep your fingers moving when it's taking all of your effort to keep up this pace. You compromise, reaching both hands forward to knead her chest, and any gentleness that might have been there before is lost. You press your face against her back and fold over her, using the new angle to your advantage. Her breathless cries, encouragements for you to go faster, harder, deeper, are lost in between your grunts of effort and the slick sound her cunt makes every time your hips meet hers.
You don't have any idea how you got through this ordeal without finishing prematurely, but you don't expect yourself to last long. By this point, both of you are usually too keyed up to last longer than five minutes. The one time that you did was a fucking trial.
You would love to finish inside of her, surrounded and squeezed like that, but in return for you not wearing a condom, she never lets you finish inside. You groan, clenching your jaw with the effort it takes to pull out of her even as she tightens to the point of pain when her own orgasm hits her. A few strokes and you're gone, moaning as you twist your hips to just barely avoid Rose. You don't want her to bitch at you for covering her ass with cum and ruin your afterglow.
You're recalled from orgasmic blankness by a kick in the chest. It's weak, with no force behind it, but you still don't appreciate it. You grumble, but sigh and force yourself up into a sitting position.
Anymore, you don't need to talk to Rose or ask her what she wants after this sort of ordeal. You do, however, take a moment to appreciate the way your sister looks right now. You didn't get to appreciate the view while you were fucking her senseless.
Her hair is a mess, ruffled and standing up in some places, sticking to her forehead and the nape of her neck with sweat. Her whole body has flushed a light red, her chest heaving, and her eyes closed as she works to catch her breath. Rose looks brilliant like this - spread out and open for you. She always does. You would take a picture if she would let you. After all, you capture true beauty, and she looks captivating when she's too tired and satisfied to be smart with you.
But, as always, the moment has to end at some point. You uncuff her wrists and ankles, and Rose sags with relief, flopping down properly onto the bed. You roll your eyes, standing up on shaky legs to tug the sheet out from under her. She lets you, and you ball it up and toss it into the corner to be washed later. The blanket underneath is a little damn in some places, but it's still better than sleep on top of semen.
When you climb onto the bed, Rose automatically shifts to press against your side. She pulled her panties back up properly, and shrugged her bra off and slid it out from under her shirt to toss to the side, but otherwise doesn't move.
You sigh, brushing her sweaty hair out of her face and pressing a kiss to her forehead. "So," you start, and Rose peeks an eye open to look at you with a steady, lavender-colored stare, "is it safe to assume that, based on the fact that you've suddenly become a lazy sack of shit, it was good for you, too?"
Rose chuckles, a light, breathy sound followed by a sigh. "It's always good." She mumbles reassuringly, leaning up and pecking you on the cheek. "Now, cuddle me properly. I'll sing you all the praises you want when I'm awake enough to remember how."
You both know that she won't, but you wrap your arms around her anyway, holding her against you. Rose falls asleep first, your hand running through her hair and soothing her. And as you watch her slumber on your chest, you have the briefest, faintest thought that you love your sister. The kind of love that would usually be associated with what the two of you just finished up doing. A non-familial kind of love. You almost say as much. You almost kiss your sleeping sister. Almost tell her that you love her. That you really love her.
Instead, you shift and change your position, and a few minutes later, you're asleep too.
A/N: I still can't write smut.