The 37-year-old Janet lay prone in her bed, wearing a thigh length sleeping gown hiked up to her belly, having stripped off her panties and thrown the covers off earlier. Her feet positioned flat on the bed, thighs spread, her knees high, she was pleasing herself, slowly climbing the ladder to orgasm. Her right middle finger stroked inside of her wet fuck hole, while her left forefinger teased her clit.
“Sis, are you awake?” She heard her brother’s low query after the light knock on the door. “I’m hungry.”
“Go back to bed, Jeffrey.” I’ll get up and fix breakfast in a few minutes. It’s too early.” She scolded.
Janet was in her childhood home, having left her husband three months earlier and had filed for divorce. Her parents had welcomed her back with open arms, especially her father. Jeff was her younger brother, only 19. A surprise pregnancy to their parents, he was the star of the family, a genius really, and was a pain in her ass as he always had been. Home for the summer months, he would soon have his doctorate in microbiology, but the way he acted one might suspect him of being mentally deficient. To her, he seemed helpless at times… like when it was time to eat.
The spell was broken. Though trying to rekindle the fire between her legs it appeared hopeless and she gave up, cursing her brother. She rose from the bed. Entering the hall, she saw no sign of her brother, her scolding had sent him scrambling back to his bed. She continued to the bathroom, bathing quickly under the steaming hot water. Naked under a terrycloth robe, her flaming red hair combed straight, left damp, she, leaving the light and fan on, proceeded to the kitchen to prepare her brother’s breakfast. Passing his door, she knocked firmly and told him in no uncertain terms to be in the kitchen in 10 minutes.
Janet stood at the sink washing dishes, taking up the slack from her mother as agreed, her mother and father having left for work more than an hour ago. Looking over her shoulder, she greeted her brother, Jeff, as he came into the open concept family area of the recently remodeled home.
“Hey, sleepyhead.”
“What time is it, sis?” He asked, as he usually did every weekday morning. He wore only his briefs and a T-shirt.
“Time for me to be getting ready for work. Your plate is on the table. You can heat it up in the microwave. And, be sure to wash your dishes. I am not your slave.”
“Where is my water and juice?”
Janet threw the washcloth in the sink and reached or two glasses. Shaking her head, she studied her brother as he closed on the table to sit down. She saw the bulge in his briefs, knowing he was well hung, and wondered if he was as sexual as she was, masturbating often of late, not having a husband around. How many times had she pushed her anger and frustration at her husband’s shortcomings aside to fuck him. Her sexuality was a curse, her several undiscovered infidelities contributing to her wrecked marriage.
Janet went to her bedroom, tossing her terrycloth robe on the bed. She retrieved a few clothing items and began putting them on, studying herself in the mirror as she put on each item; her panties, covering a thick forest of pubic hair, matching her top-knot and a well proportioned, a mite heavy, bubbled ass; stockings, firming up her smooth, well proportioned thighs that did not touch; her bra, corralling ample breast with raisin sized nipples that were impressively tall when firm; the skirt, black and formfitting, showing off her hips; the eggshell, white blouse that fit tightly across her boobs; And lastly, the black high heels that postured her ass nicely, that, she knew, drew the looks of men.