Finally watching ‘Game of Thrones‘ prompted a discussion which lead me to explore the idea here. My inspiration was not so much Cersei and Jaime but instead the closeness between Jon and Arya. This story is an attempt to imagine this type of relationship from the inside.
I should have realised how hard it would be to find someone who could live up to my big brother.
He was the oldest child; his father was my mother’s first love. By the time she met my father that child was already at school. By the time she had me, he was rising ten. Some boys might have felt displaced by such a younger sister, but he simply took me over as his own.
He was my first teacher. I learned to walk holding his hands and he taught me how to buckle my shoes.
He was my first babysitter. He would tuck me up in bed and to me. Sometimes his choice of books was incomprehensible to such a little girl, but I would snuggle down under the covers and listen to his voice until I fell asleep.
He was my protector. Big enough to dissuade the school bullies from bothering me but more importantly teaching me how to stand up for myself. he was my knight in shining armour and I was his princess. I would order him about imperiously and with unfailing patience he would humour me and my demands. He played with me and made me laugh and I adored him.
He was my first vicarious taste of freedom. When he started dating I would approve his appearance as he went out and then wave him goodbye at he door. The next day when I would ask him about his adventures he would laugh and say that it wasn’t as much fun as playing with me.
All grown up, he moved out, and I missed him immensely. His flat became my second home, a refuge from the inevitable teenage rows I would get into with my parents.
He was my comforter. When my first boyfriends inevitably broke my heart he was there to listen. He would hold me and tell me that they were not worthy to lick my boots.
So one day, after another broken love affair, I ended up in despairing tears pouring my heart out on my brother’s sofa. He held me while I cried and when the torrent ceased I turned and saw his face. For the first time I saw him, my faithful, patient, loving brother.
Without conscious thought my head tilted back and his mouth lowered onto mine.
We kissed and our arms were around each other. His hands were gentle as he helped me out of my clothes. I remember the wonder as my hand stroked his erect cock for the first time. In response his fingers probed my pussy and found me wet and wanting.
Together we threw off our remaining clothes and wordlessly I straddled him on the sofa. I sank down onto him, taking in every inch of his shaft. I rode him eagerly, delighting in his moans of pleasure until with a desperate groan he came inside me, filling me with his cum. He helped me to dismount then and laid me back on the sofa. His fingers found my clit and within moments I too was lost in primal pleasure . As I trembled afterwards he moved me onto his lap and wrapped his arms around me, holding me and murmuring “my beautiful little sister” into my hair.
So finally I found my love where he had been all along, waiting for me to grow up and find him, right under my nose.