Morning Laundry with Sister

"... so I might have to ask my manager for a lift," Ashwin moaned.

"That sucks," I replied vaguely. I hadn't really been listening. I stole another glance at the clock on the wall as I took another bite of the piece of toast I had been nibbling at for the past ten minutes. Eight twenty-six. Come on.

"Anyway, I'm gonna go," Ashwin said as he downed the last of his filter coffee. "Don't forget, it's your turn to do laundry this week, Archana."

"Yeah, I'm not the one who always forgets," I called after my brother, but he was already out the door.

As soon as I heard his footsteps receding down the stairs, I dropped the rest of my half-eaten toast and made for the bathroom through my bedroom. The apartment our Chitti had found and rented for us in Indiranagar after Amma and Appa died was quite small, with only two rooms and an adjoining bathroom between them, but neither of us had really cared. I don't mean to sound ungrateful, but it just felt good to be away from overly concerned relatives constantly dropping in.

The plastic laundry basket we shared was about three-quarters full. I reached into it and fished a pair of boxer shorts off near the top of the pile. There was, as always, a telltale stiff drying stain at the front. Bringing the soiled boxers to my face, I breathed in the heady smell of my brother's cum. The alkaline tang made my breath catch in my throat.

Ever since I found out that my brother jacked off when he woke up every morning, it had become almost a daily routine for me to use his cum-stained boxers as a masturbatory aid. It was a secret I guarded fiercely. The scent alone was enough to make my thighs clench.

Ashwin had left for his IT office later than usual today, and I had a lecture at my college at ten. To be safe, I decided to load up the washing machine first. The wash-and-spin cycle took a little over an hour, which would give me ample time to cum and take a quick shower before taking the clothes out, hanging them on the balcony, loading in the delicates, and booking a cab to my ten o'clock class.

An idea struck me as I was sifting through the laundry, separating the regular clothes from the delicates. I picked up my brother's boxer shorts again. Why not? The morning Bangalore air wafted against my nether lips as I quickly slipped out of my comfortable cotton pajama shorts, and stepped into his boxers. I usually just buried my face in the fabric as I got off, but the coolness of the still-damp stain as it rested directly against my lower belly felt, for some reason, even naughtier.

A familiar sense of shame washed over me at feeling this kind of raw lust towards my own brother, but the vague sense of wrongness only made the titillation far more potent. I felt my pussy clench with deep arousal, and almost on its own volition, my hand had slid down under the elastic band of the boxers.

I managed to stop myself just before my fingers reached my swollen clit. I should probably deal with the laundry first. I'd almost certainly lose track of time and have no time to take the first load out to dry if I started pleasuring myself right now.

Energized by the anticipation of what was to come, I quickly sorted through the pile and brought the heavy clothes to the washing machine. There wasn't a proper utility area in our small apartment, and the washing machine was just tucked into an unused corner of the kitchen, right next to the gas stove. Ours was one of those old top-loading behemoths that we brought from our old house. It was probably older than I was, and it shook and clanged mightily every single time it ran.

I loaded the clothes into the drum absently, set the water level for the wash cycle, and started it up. I barely registered the low hum of the machine starting its cycle, my mind already entirely focused on the sensation of the rough fabric of my brother's boxers rippling lightly against my bare crotch.

As I turned away, there was a niggling feeling that I had forgotten something important. I scowled at the rumbling washing machine for a moment before I finally remembered.

Damn. In my haste, I had forgotten to put any Surf Excel washing powder in.

I scanned the kitchen and realized that the washing powder was pushed all the way back on a high wooden shelf right above the washing machine. When it's my turn to do the laundry, I always leave the heavy packet of detergent on the top of the machine instead of putting it back on the high shelf, but Ashwin always forgets that I am half a foot shorter than he is.

I leaned heavily on tiptoe over the rumbling washing machine, stretching my arm, trying to reach the shelf. I gasped out loud as the metal corner of the violently vibrating washing machine slid right under my crotch. The sudden flash of intense pleasure that shot through me as it grazed my sensitive clit made my legs go completely weak, and I had to quickly brace a hand flat on the machine's lid to prevent myself from crumpling to the tiled floor.

The sudden downward motion made the hard corner slide up firmly over my clit once again.

"Oh," I breathed out. "Ohhh..."

Experimentally, I tiptoed again, adjusting myself to just the right height so that my clit was pressed firmly against the vibrating corner of the machine through the fabric of Ashwin's boxers. As if the machine had somehow read my mind, at that very exact moment, it began spinning much faster, making the whole heavy appliance shake and hum more vigorously than before.

The intense sensation on my clit of the rapidly vibrating metal rubbing right through the wet cotton made me feel light-headed and dizzy with lust. I had wanted to take this much slower, to tease myself, but the sheer novelty of this exhilarating new method was rapidly pushing me right over the brink. When I looked down, I could clearly see the damp stain that marked Ashwin's morning cum being entirely subsumed by a rapidly growing dark patch of my own wetness.

The overwhelming thought of our intimate juices physically mingling together right there—

"Oh." I flinched violently at the sound of Ashwin's voice right behind me. The shock made me stumble sideways in a panic, and I desperately grabbed onto the granite kitchen countertop for purchase.

"Oh god, Archana, I'm so sorry," he said, quickly swinging the wooden kitchen door close to give me privacy. Outside the closed door, he paused. "Are those... my boxers?"

"No," I lied terribly, "I, um. Don't know what you mean." My weak denial was completely undercut by the husky, breathy quaver in my own voice.

I held my breath, waiting in agony to see how he'd react, but he made no reply, though I could still clearly see his shadow lingering from under the gap in the door. There was a long moment of terribly awkward silence before I saw the shadow under the door finally move away and heard the door to his bedroom click shut.

Oh, no. That immediately snapped me out of my lustful trance. I knew I had to handle this quickly and face him, or it'd become unbearable and weird between us living in this tiny flat. I desperately wanted to avoid that.

I walked over and knocked tentatively on the door of his room, and when there was no response, I slowly pushed it open.

He was having a smoke by his open window, resolutely avoiding meeting my eye. With his crisp formal office shirt-and-tie, he made a dashing, handsome silhouette against the morning sunlight from the window, I noted guiltily. It might have just been the heightened state of sheer arousal I was still trapped in, but I felt a massive rush of pure desire for him just then.

I shook myself mentally. Get a grip, Archana.

"I thought... I thought you stopped smoking those."

He gave a half-hearted, dry chuckle. "Well, we all have our secret vices."

An agonizingly awkward pause settled over the room. "Ashwin, I wasn't—"

"Archana! Stop. I really don't want to know, alright?" He took a deep, stressed drag of his cigarette, staring blankly out at the Bangalore traffic below his window. He had a tight, unreadable look on his face that I wasn't sure what to make of.

I milled anxiously at his doorframe, totally unsure how to proceed. "I didn't know you were going to come back home so fast, alright?"

He seemed to make a sudden decision as he stubbed out his cigarette hard on the metal window frame. The corner of his mouth tugged upwards into his stupidly cute lopsided grin, which I instantly knew was his way of trying to be conciliatory. "I forgot my cigarettes," he said with a self-effacing shrug. "That's why I came back from the cab stand. Can we agree to never talk ab— um."

He stopped mid-movement when he turned fully towards me. His suddenly wide eyes were matched by his rapidly flaring nostrils. I slowly followed the downward direction of his intense gaze, but with a sudden sinking feeling, I realized exactly why before I even saw it. Shit. I was still wearing his boxers, the crotch fabric still glistening darkly with an unmistakable, massive wet patch of my own making.

I was absolutely mortified, and for a long moment, I was paralysed by indecision. After what seemed like an awkward eternity, Ashwin moved first, grabbing his bike keys from the dresser and strictly avoiding my eye.

When he passed right by me at the door, the stale odor of cigarettes mixed with the underlying clean pine smell of the body wash he always used was entirely overwhelming, making my belly lurch violently with liquid heat. Seizing purely on the reckless impulse of the moment, I leaned forward and kissed him softly on the cheek.

Before I had time for any second thoughts, he immediately reciprocated, and in a flash, we were locked in each other's arms and his hot tongue was pushing eagerly into my mouth.

"Wait." He suddenly tore his face away from mine, breathing heavily. "We can't—"

Ashwin's sudden hesitation gave me pause as well. I had fantasized constantly about my brother ever since I became sexually aware, but actually doing this was crossing an entirely different, permanent threshold. It was this exact thought, and maybe the insistent, throbbing tingle still burning in my crotch, that ultimately spurred me onwards.

Swallowing nervously, I lowered my hands across the small of his back to firmly clutch his firm buttocks. "Let me... let me take care of you," I whispered, putting as much sultry heat in my voice as I possibly knew how to.

With trembling hands, I quickly undid his leather belt and popped the button of his formal office trousers. His natural scent was intoxicating—deeply sexy but also strangely comforting to me at the same time. I pulled down the zip to eagerly reveal the heavy bulge of his cock straining hard against his boxers, the exact same cut as the one I was currently wearing.

His manhood twitched violently and grew visibly thicker as I confidently rubbed my hand up and down against his thick shaft right through the plain dark cotton. When I looked up again at his face, I saw the exact same raw lust and deep confusion I felt mirrored perfectly in his eyes, though he made absolutely no move to push me away.

I dropped smoothly to my knees on the living room floor. With my heart pounding in my throat, I slid my fingers gently under the elastic waistband of his boxers and peeled the fabric off his heavily engorged cock. My tongue snaked out eagerly, giving the sensitive underside of his cock an experimental, wet lick.

His entire body shuddered hard and his cock twitched, the thick circumcised bulb bumping lightly onto the tip of my nose. Ashwin gave a nervous, breathy chuckle and I couldn't help but grin playfully up at him.

Focusing intently again on his stiff cock, I licked my lips and wrapped them fully around the wide head of his shaft. With an exhaled 'ha', like he was completely surprised by the wet sensation, he seemed to shrink back reflexively for a second, but then his hips surged forward hungrily, propelling his thick shaft much deeper into my mouth.

My brother groaned loudly above me as I sucked wetly on his cock. His skin was strangely velvety but rock hard at the same time. As I ran my warm tongue all around the head, there was a slightly bitter undertaste to it that strongly reminded me of clean soap. For some twisted reason, that domestic familiarity turned me on even more.

I slid a free hand down under the waistband of the boxers I wore and began to rub my swollen clit. It didn't take long before my hand was completely sticky with fresh pussy juices.

I began bobbing my head much more vigorously, wrapping my free hand tightly around the base of his thick shaft to pump him. He brought his hands down from his sides to rest them gently on my head, his thumb tracing little affectionate circles in my hair. It was a sweet, brotherly gesture I remembered warmly from when he was much taller than I was as kids.

Ashwin came heavily just a few seconds after I did, his body tensing up tight and spurting thick, warm cum deep into my mouth as I moaned and shuddered violently around his cock. I swallowed it instinctively, though the bitter saltiness made me gag slightly.

"I'm sorry! For, uh, finishing in your mouth like that," he gasped out as I slumped back on my heels, licking my lips clean. When I looked up, I saw that he had a deeply sheepish frown on his face.

"It's totally fine," I said breathlessly, my face heavily flushed with pleasure. I grinned up at him. "You really should stop smoking, though."

"Okay, amma," or some other smart-ass retort would usually be his typical sibling response, but he just hastily said, "I'm going to be late for work, I have to go," and almost practically fled the house, awkwardly tucking his cock—still glistening and moist from my saliva—back into his formal pants as he made a frantic beeline for the front door.

"Dammit," I muttered softly to myself as the door slammed. I buried my hot face in my hands. What the hell had I just done?

The rest of the day was an absolute, agonizing blur. I found it incredibly hard to concentrate on the lectures in class. I kept anxiously checking my phone every five minutes, desperately hoping that Ashwin had replied to my frantic WhatsApp message ("are we ok?"). My brother was the closest person in the entire world to me. Our Chitti gladly took us in after our parents died in that accident, but she'd always kept us strictly at arm's length.

I don't blame her for it. She never really got past the sudden death of her sister, and seeing my mother's features directly reflected in our faces every day must have been incredibly painful for her. And all the other extended relatives treated us with total kid gloves, but our parents had never been particularly close to them anyway, and they had absolutely nothing to offer us but empty condolences and pity.

Throughout all that trauma, my brother and I have exclusively had each other's backs. And this morning, he couldn't even look me straight in the eye, after what we did. Had fulfilling a dark fantasy I'd harbored since adolescence really been worth the catastrophic fallout?

It was a deeply self-loathing rhetorical question—but then I forcefully thought about the precise way his hot tongue tasted in my mouth; the intense heat of his chest as he held me tight in his arms; the particular, loving way he kneaded my scalp as I eagerly sucked his cock. Yes, the incredibly stubborn voice at the back of my head fiercely insisted.

Then came the crushing weight of the shame again. I knew, intellectually and culturally, that incest was entirely wrong, so why was I so deeply turned on by the mere thought of it? Thinking back carefully, I'd always had some complicated, blurred feelings for my brother. I clearly remember absolutely hating his high school girlfriend for no logical reason.

Though I didn't really know the truth until we'd finally moved into this Indiranagar apartment alone, I had accidentally found his hidden porn folder on the shared laptop, and found myself so much more aroused by knowing exactly what my brother jerked off to than by the actual porn itself. And that heavy guilt and shame was always lurking just closely behind the intense arousal, adding an indefinably delicious, sharp tinge to the entire experience.

It was entirely in this thick haze of shame and deep uncertainty that I completely sleepwalked through my day. Evening finally came, and I was absently collecting the dried laundry from the basket near the washing machine when I heard the front door lock click open. I tensed up immediately, and almost subconsciously I felt my pussy instantly moisten in anticipation.

"Hey sis, what's up?" he said completely casually when he saw me standing there. "I ate dinner with some other guys from work. You didn't ask so I didn't parcel any biryani for you."

So we're just pretending nothing happened. I shrugged mentally and turned my back to him to face the laundry pile again. That was probably for the absolute best. "No problem at all, I've eaten some curd rice too," I said smoothly, acting exactly as if I hadn't spent the entire day balancing on a frantic, nervous edge. "I went down to the letterbox earlier, you have a—"

I faltered completely mid-sentence as I felt the sudden, radiating warmth of a large body pressed tightly against my back, not least the unmistakably hard rod nestling firmly right between the top of my butt cheeks. I clicked the lid of the machine shut and turned my upper body slightly to look directly at him.

I found my face barely an inch away from his. For a few charged moments, we just felt our ragged, hot breaths on each other's trembling lips, and I was entirely lost in his dark brown eyes, so exactly like mine, seeing a tinny, desperate reflection of myself right in the dark center of his pupil.

"Rough day?" I said finally, my voice cracking. I genuinely meant it light-heartedly, but the sheer nervousness and heavy arousal made it sound exactly like a sultry come-on.

He leaned in aggressively to wrap my lips in a punishing kiss, and I instantly melted completely into his strong arms. With urgent, frantic need, I fumbled blindly with the buckle of his work pants, and they quickly dropped down to his ankles. At the exact same time, he was roughly peeling off my shorts and cotton panties.

His unfettered, fully erect cock pressed hotly right into the deep valley of my butt crack, forcefully pushing my completely exposed crotch flush against the cold metal edge of the washing machine behind me.

"We're actually doing this," I breathed out against his lips.

"We are," he said firmly, with an urgent, rough tone that brooked absolutely no argument. I eagerly turned my hips all the way around to face him completely.

"Ashwin—" I began to whisper, but I suddenly felt him align his thick cock directly at the tight entrance of my virgin pussy. He hesitated for one final, agonizing second, then pushed steadily into me, his dark eyes staring intensely right into mine as he breached me. There was clear doubt and heavy confusion in his gaze, but also a raging desire that mirrored my own perfectly. His thick shaft met surprisingly little resistance as it slid deep into me, thoroughly lubricated by my copious pussy juices.

The intense sensation of my own brother's hard cock stretching my tight pussy completely took my breath away. It was so vastly different than what I'd always imagined it to be like, but also strangely, undeniably... right.

He thrust deeply into me again, lifting me backwards and entirely off my feet so that I sat partially on top of the cold machine lid. I screamed softly at the exquisite, sharp pleasure, and immediately threw my arms tightly around his neck to anchor myself.

"I've always loved you, Archana," he whispered breathily right into my ear as he steadily pumped his hips into me, "I just hadn't really realized—" He suddenly inhaled sharply as I eagerly wrapped my bare legs high around his taut butt and pulled him even deeper inside me.

"—that I wanted you this badly too?" I finished for him.

He laughed breathlessly, his rough five o'clock shadow rasping deliciously against my sensitive neck as he nuzzled deeply into it. I couldn't help but laugh out loud too, though it came out sounding like half a sob as overwhelming waves of raw pleasure continually wracked my entire body.

I honestly don't know if we made love on top of that vibrating washing machine for five short minutes or a whole hour. Everything else in the world seemed to just fall away entirely as we fucked each other senseless, moving like two halves of a whole that fit perfectly together.

I felt my heavy orgasm rapidly approach with gathering, unstoppable speed like a great tsunami, and then I came so incredibly hard that bright stars literally burst in my vision. I realized faintly that I'd been biting down hard on Ashwin's shoulder, but he didn't seem to mind the pain at all. His rough thrusts sped up frantically, until he was practically pistoning blindly into me, and suddenly I felt his firm buttocks clench up totally tight under my gripping legs.

I realized only belatedly exactly what was happening. "Ashwin, pull out!"

He flinched, trying to pull back, but it was far too late, and I felt him violently spurt his thick, warm seed deep inside me with a few final, uncontrollable thrusts. I rested my sweaty forehead heavily on his shoulder as we both aggressively panted, heavily flushed with both the intense physical exertion and the beautiful afterglow of a massive, shared orgasm.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered softly, but his quiet chuckle told me entirely otherwise.

I laughed breathlessly against his skin and kissed his sweaty neck again. "Stop constantly apologizing."

I rested my tired head warmly against my brother's broad chest, peacefully listening to his rapidly hammering heartbeat slow down. I briefly felt the familiar, dark stirrings of shame lingering in the far periphery of my consciousness. We undoubtedly had a whole lot of talking and emotional figuring out ahead of us, about our incredibly complicated feelings, if we were actually going to ever cross this line and do it again, and what this permanently meant for our relationship going forward in this apartment.

But for right now, wrapped securely in his strong arms, absolutely none of that mattered at all.