The Prodigal Brother

The knock on the door surprised me. I’d been lost in my thoughts, pouring over outlines of history chapters, preparing for the final for my Early Civilization class. My hatred for history and my inability to retain essentially all of the information I learned from the class had, at present, completely filled my mind as the day of the final drew ever closer. I sighed at the interruption, tossed my pen down on the dining room table, and walked over to the door.

As I glanced out the peephole and saw no one, I opened the door and took quick notice of a small pile of mail on top of a badly wrapped package. Picking up the package and the mail, I returned to the outline and note covered table. Without even looking at the name on the package, I knew it was meant to be mine. My birthday had passed over half a month ago, yet the wrapping paper was littered with happy birthday sentiments across it. It took nearly ten minutes for me to simply crack open the box, as the bad wrapping job had been patched with tons of tape. As I opened the box, I saw a card on the inside, an older woman wearing sunglasses describing how old she was. I chuckled, as I always made jokes about how old I felt, despite only have just passing the legal drinking age. I opened the card and began to read it.

Happy Birthday Lil! I know I’m late on your birthday, sorry. Things have been hectic at school. Not sure if Anna and Dad told you, but I’m transferring to your school next semester, so to save some extra cash, I’ll be moving back in for a bit. Can’t wait to see you! It’s been WAY too long. -Josh

I stared at the card for a few minutes, unsure of my emotions. A part of me was excited. I’d missed Josh. He’d been away at school for the past three years, and I hadn’t seen him since. He’d chosen to do a dual major, which had kept him extremely busy, and the two or three times he had managed to find time to come home had fallen on days that I’d been out of town, taking spring break trips to different art museums with some fellow students. The other half of me felt somewhat annoyed.

I had been about the age of three when my parents had separated and remarried. My mother, Anna, married a kind-hearted businessman named Henry. He mostly dealt in buying, renovating, and flipping real estate, but after he married my mother, he had also invested in my mother’s dream of owning her own bakery. It was often more stress for him than it was worth, as my mother was an excellent cook and baker, but a terrible business woman, but somehow he managed to make sure that the shop always turned a profit. Henry had also been divorced when he met and married my mother, with a son of his own, Josh, who was two years my senior.

I don’t remember what things were like when we first met, but I do know that as children, Josh and I were inseparable. I wasn’t like most girls. I didn’t like lace and frills, and I hated primping and shopping. I was a dirt and mud kind of girl, much to the dismay of my mother. Josh and I collected bugs, made mud pies, built forts, swing from ropes, and conquered the world together. He called me Lil instead of Lillian, and he had no shame in telling anyone that I was his best friend. He had been mine, too.

Somehow, something changed once we got into high school. He stopped telling people I was his best friend. Instead of calling me by the nickname he had given me years before, he started referring to me as his “kid sister.” Even when his friends weren’t around, I’d gone from being Lil to Lillian again. It was as though he was screaming at me that I wasn’t good enough for him anymore, but he was merely speaking with a smile. I’d once overheard our parents talking about the strange distance between us. “Maybe it’s puberty,” Henry had said. “It seems like it’s changed them both a lot.”

At the time, I hadn’t understood what he had meant. It felt, to me, like I was still the same dirt-loving girl. Over time though, I realized that some aspects of my personality had changed. I had taken an interest in art, and instead of dirt-stained jeans, I typically had paint stains instead. I started enjoying the educational trips to the museums, excited to see what art they had on display. I spent hours working on a piece, only to look up and see that the day had slipped away from me. Maybe his distance had been my fault. Maybe he’d gotten bored with me.

I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts so I could return to my studies, but I found that I couldn’t concentrate. I groaned and looked over at the clock on the wall. “A quarter past six. Hmm. I still have a good two hours before Henry and Mom get home,” I mumbled to myself.

My stomach growled, and I took it as a sign that it was time for a break. After reheating some leftovers, and quelling my hunger, I stretched out and felt how tense my muscles had become from sitting so long at the table. “I should take a shower. A shower always helps me clear my head.”

As I walked up the stairs to head into the shower, I passed by my bedroom and decided to strip down for the escort ataşehir shower in my bedroom. When no one else was at home, I loved strutting around naked. As I tossed my jeans into the laundry hamper, it, and several other articles that were piled up at the top, caused the hamper to turn over. Behind it, I noticed the sticker I had put on the wall several years before. It wasn’t anything special, just a star shaped sticker I’d gotten out of a random pack, but it had been put up for a specific reason.

I walked over to the hamper and bent over for a closer look at the star. One of the sides was still slightly bent, perfect for being able to gently peel it away and then replace it. I pulled on the sticker and bit, and looked at the hole it had been hiding. I leaned down and pressed my face against the wall, as I had done several times during before Josh had finally left for college, and glared through the wall. Josh’s room sat, mostly untouched since his last visit home. Mom had gone in to dust occasionally, but everything else was still in its rightful place.

I closed my eyes and could feel my heartbeat quicken as I thought about what had happened when I had first discovered that hole. At that time, my dresser had been covering the spot, and after casually tossing some new paintbrushes down, one had rolled off and fallen behind it. Since the dresser hadn’t been all that heavy, I moved the dresser out of the way. As I bent down to retrieve my brush, I discovered the hole. I assumed Josh, or one of his ridiculous friends, had accidentally punctured the wall and never spoken up about it to avoid chastisement from our parents. I had peered through it to see Josh, alone, sitting at his desk, looking at his laptop. Making out the specifics had been difficult, but I could see he was doing something with his arm, and after a few seconds of studying him, he leaned back in his chair, laying his head back against the back rest. It wasn’t the quick shot of the porn on his laptop that forever had burned into my mind, but the look on his face. His look of pleasure had excited me in a way I’d never been excited before, and it had scared me. A part of me, for a reason I couldn’t understand, wanted to be the person making him look like that. In my panic, I found a pack of stickers in one of my art boxes and quickly covered the hole, hoping that it would also cover the strange feeling that had come over me.

Unfortunately, the sticker hadn’t done its job. I moved my dresser back and forth daily in hopes of catching a glimpse of him again. Finally, after a few weeks of doing so, I even decided to rearrange my bedroom, placing the laundry hamper over the hole instead of the dresser because it could be moved more easily and more silently. When my mom had questioned me about it, I told her I’d changed up my room for better lighting for my artwork. The response was complete bullshit. It was closer to a window, but it was actually worse for me as it cast too much of a glare on my work. I didn’t care. I had needed to see Josh’s face like that again.

Eventually, a week after I’d rearranged my room, I caught him once more. He had no idea, but watching the cum spurt from his cock and hearing his stifled moan had been exactly what I had needed to send me over the edge. I continued to move the hamper and peel back the sticker until he left for college. He spent a year working before he started, knowing that college costs were high which I had been grateful for, as it had given me another year to watch him. Afterwards, I spent the next year recalling the images I’d stashed in my memory to give myself the release I needed. Each time I came, I felt ashamed but I couldn’t deny myself the pleasure.

I had met Lukas my freshman year of college. He was smart, handsome, and an art major. We dated for two years before he decided that he “needed to be free for the sake of his art.” Turns out, needing to be free for his art meant he needed to be free to stick his dick in as many women as he possibly could. I took an entire semester off of school to mourn the loss of that massive douche.

It wasn’t until now, as I stared through that hole in my wall and felt my pussy begin to tingle and grow warm and wet, that I realized that I had completely forgotten about how I badly I had once wanted Josh. I reached down and slid my fingers across my opening and felt the slick wetness on the tips of my fingers. I can’t chalk it up to puberty hormones if the thought of it still makes me this wet, I thought. I could feel the tinge of shame creeping up on me, but as I slid my fingers across the wetness once more, I dismissed it quickly. I laid down on my bed, bringing up the images once more. I dipped the tips of my fingers into my hot, wet pussy and then used them to glide across my clit. As I twirled my fingers around in short, sharp circles, I could feel the orgasm starting to build inside of me. I could see his face. I could see the cum spewing forth from his fat cock. I could picture myself, riding him into oblivion. kadıköy escort The orgasm rolled over me like a truck. My back arched and my legs shook with the ecstasy. “Oh Josh!” I heard myself whisper as the sticky cum beaded up on my pussy lips.

I laid still with my eyes closed for a moment, soaking in the sensations when the sound of a muffled cough shocked me into reality. At my door, which had been wide open since I had entered my room, stood an incredibly handsome and utterly shocked Josh.

I stared in horror as a deep red flush colored his face and he turned his head to look away from me. I tried to speak, tried to move, but I was frozen. What felt like centuries passed in agony before he, kindly, faked a laugh and said, “Wow… so, when you’ve got the house to yourself, you really take advantage of it, don’t you?”

His words were somehow enough to give my limbs the ability to move again. Grabbing for my comforter, I quickly threw it across my naked body, unable to look at Josh. Oh my god. OH MY GOD. Did he watch me? Did he hear me say his name? DOES HE KNOW? The thoughts raced and screamed through my mind over and over again. I could feel the warm sting of tears welling in my eyes.

“Woah! Hey! Don’t cry. Jesus. It’s not that big of a deal. I like a good orgasm as much as the next person.” He chuckled nervously then straighten and sat down on the edge of the bed, lifting my chin so that my eyes would meet his. “Seriously Lil, we’re adults. Let’s just accept that you’re a little freak and move on.”

His smile was warm and genuine and I couldn’t help but laugh. Almost all of my embarrassment had faded with those words, though my fear of him hearing my whispered words still haunted me. “I thought you wouldn’t be here until the end of the semester?”

“My semester ended yesterday. I think my school started classes about two weeks before yours does. I finished up the last of my finals on Monday and spent the rest of the week packing up my stuff. I was planning on being here on Saturday, but since I finished packing a bit early, I figured I’d go ahead and head home. It’s been forever since I’ve seen you! I was excited to catch up.” He broke for a moment to laugh heartily. “I mean, not as excited as you seemed to be!”

My stomach felt sick. Does that mean he did hear me? How the hell am I supposed to explain that? “Listen, Josh… I…”

“Lil. Stop. I’m just kidding. I know you probably got yourself all worked up over that art dude you’ve been dating, right? Lukas or whatever?”

“We broke up forever ago. Didn’t Mom and Henry tell you? I took a semester off school because that asshole hurt me so badly.”

His face darkened for a moment. “That fucker. He better hope I never see him.”

I shrugged. “With any luck, he’s caught some disgusting STD from all the women he’s been banging.”

He chuckled, his face bright again. “You’re just as evil as you’ve always been. Anyways, I need to go get my stuff out of the car and bring it in. I’ll see you in a bit.”

He walked out casually, as though he hadn’t just witnessed the single most awkward thing in existence. Laying over on my side, I drew my legs up to my chest and pulled the comforter over my head. Most of my mortification had passed, and had given way to my questionable emotions again. Josh had always been handsome. With sapphire blue eyes and sandy blonde hair, he had, for years, been the picturesque surfer boy. All through high school he’d worn his hair longer, his messy blonde curls falling just past his eyebrows, but now, his hair was cropped much shorter, and neatly spiked. His tall frame was broader than it had been as well. What once had been lanky arms and legs had been replaced with lean, defined muscles. Even his face had slimmed around his jawline, defining his strong nose and rosy lips that much more. His clothing was, as it had always been, simple- a black tee-shirt that looked as though it had been made specifically to fit him and a pair of light washed jeans. I couldn’t have imagined I’d ever find him more attractive than I had in high school, but somehow, he’d managed to make himself even sexier.

The images of what had just occurred flew into my head again, this time, with a shocking new thought. Am I happy that he saw what I was doing? Am I getting turned on about the idea of him watching me? I shivered with excitement, but quickly forced myself to come back to reality. “Stop it Lillian. You know that can and will never happen,” I said to myself with a hushed breath.

After hearing Josh lug his things up and down the stairs for around twenty minutes, I finally listened to the sound of him shutting his door. I felt my breath catch for a moment, but forced myself to calm down. I listened closely but could only hear what sounded like boxes being moved around his bedroom. I sighed and made my way to the shower. The hot water and steam helped to loosen my muscles and wash away the stress and excitement of the past hour. I finished up my usual routine, shampooing, maltepe escort bayan conditioning, my in-shower body lotion, shaving the perfect little runway strip, and washing my face, and then turned the shower off. Reaching for my towel, I suddenly heard a slight noise. Since it had sounded as though it came from Josh’s room, I leaned my ear against the wall in hopes to hear the strange sound again. Is that… breathing? Is he breathing that hard? In my excitement, I hadn’t even realized my fingers had once again found their way to my tingling clit. I wanted to run, as fast as I could to my hidden little whole to watch him, but I didn’t want to risk missing anything. It paid off. A few moments passed and I heard the low moan of his muffled orgasm, a sound I was all too familiar with. I turned, pressing my back against the wall, my fingers trembling against my swollen clit. With my other hand, I pressed my palm and fingers firmly over my mouth as I silenced the knee-buckling orgasm that rushed across me. Wave after wave hit me, sending pulses from my spine to the very edge of my dripping pussy lips. When I finally finished, I was kneeling on both knees, my legs shaking so fiercely I was worried I wouldn’t be able to stand.

Over the next three weeks, Josh helped me study for, and pass my remaining finals, and even spent some time looking over my art work. It was a pleasant change to see him taking interest in my art, especially considering I had thought it had played a role in driving us apart as teens. He talked about the progress he had made on his two majors, math and engineering, and how, to keep his grades up, it would end up causing him to need an extra year and a half to get his degrees in both. As if no time or distance had passed between us, we carried on much like we had as kids. All the angst of our teenage selves had melted away and given us back the relationship we both had seemed to miss.

“By the way, I am surprised. You’ve actually let your hair grow out.” He remarked to me, as we sat outside of a Starbucks, drinking our over-priced lattes.

“This is petty as hell, but I’m mostly doing it out of spite. Lukas constantly told me one of the hottest things about me was my short hair. I had already been growing it out some before we broke up simply because school had gotten in the way of me keeping it cut, but after his bullshit, I decided I’d let it grow for a while.”

He laughed, and reached out and tossed a lock of my auburn hair off of my shoulder. “The long hair really suits you. It frames your face like a picture.” Then, as though he had said something he’d meant to keep private, he blushed and looked away.

“That was the cheesiest thing I’ve ever heard. I sincerely hope you didn’t use that line on the college girls.”

He flashed me a perfect grin and laughed. “Hey, I got invited to a campus party this weekend. Since I don’t really know anyone, would you come with me and help me meet a few people?”

I shrugged and nodded, sipping down the last remnants of my coffee.

In truth, I’d only been to about three parties since I’d started college. I spent most of my free time studying and working on my art, so it had left me little time to socialize. To make matters worse, I had always been a bit shy when forced out into large groups of people. Even though I knew that no one even truly cared if I was there, it felt, to me, as though everyone had their eyes plastered on me, watching for me to do something stupid. The few parties I had attended were forced on me. Lukas had begged, pleaded, and pouted until I had agreed to go, only to act like he owned me around all his friends at the party. “Oh yeah, she’s great! She cooks for me, cleans my dorm, and she sucks my cock whenever I ask her to!” He hadn’t been lying, I did do all those things, and more, for him, but to listen to him brag about it to all of his friends as they funneled beers had made me feel more like a slave than a girlfriend.

I stared in the mirror in my matching set of black lace bra and panties trying to figure out what I was going to wear to the party I had thoughtlessly agreed to attend. My typical wardrobe was a tee-shirt and paint-stained overalls with low-top Converse, but I knew I couldn’t get away with wearing that out to a party with Josh. I need to wear something sexy. My thoughts went back to my episode in the bathroom. A very deep, dark part of me wanted him to want me as much as I wanted him. I scanned my closet, hoping for something that would satisfy my tastes. Towards the back of my closet, I found a pair of black faux leather leggings that Lukas had bought me when he’d taken me to a rock concert. Smiling to myself as I slipped into them, I looked into the mirror once more. My legs, I had been told on more than one occasion, were one of my best qualities. Long, lean, and defined, the leggings fit them perfectly, emphasizing their slim, sculpted shape. I paired a thin, translucent red, loose tank top with them. The back of the tank top dipped low, almost to the small of my back. At first, I grabbed a pair of high-heeled ankle boots to blend seamlessly with the leggings, but after remembering how badly my feet and ankles had hurt the night I’d worn them to the concert, I sighed and went with the more reasonable choice- my trusty black low-tops.