Anything for the Man of the House: Ten Brats who Learn how to Behave

Anything for the Man of the House

Shameless Book Press

Published by Shameless
Book Press at Smashwords

Copyright 2015
Shameless Book Press, Respective Authors

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Author's note: All characters depicted
in this work of fiction are 18 years of age or older.

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Table of
Contents

Sibling Lust: In the Barn – Selena
Kitt

Filthy Rich 1 – Scarlett
Skyes

His Brat’s Fertile First
Time: Blaire – Candy Quinn

Don’t You Dare Pull Out, Part 1 –
L. Hannover

Seducing Her Seal – Vixen Von
Fock

Amabelle – Connie Cliff

She Is A Flirty BBW Brat – Candy
Dance

The Brat and the Naughty Movie
– Ashley Rixxan

Stealing Daddy – Saffron
Daughter

CumSwapping Sisters – Cheri
Verset

Free Stories and
Recommendations

Sibling
Lust: In the Barn – Selena Kitt

My adopted brother masturbated
in the barn, way up high in the loft, lying alone in the soft,
clean hay we shoveled down for Da to feed the animals. I didn’t
understand at first, what he was doing. I think he would have heard
me, that first time I climbed up the ladder, ready to tell him Ma
needed a hand moving something in the kitchen, if he hadn’t been
about to make a mess. I saw him, lying down, black hat tossed
aside, head cocked at a funny angle, and at first I panicked,
thinking he was hurt. But then I heard his fast, labored breathing,
saw his hand moving between his legs, and knew he was holding onto
his privates.

But what could he be doing to
them?

I stood frozen on the ladder,
eyes wide, as his hand moved faster and faster, like lightning, up
and down. He gave out a soft moan, his hips bucked up, and I
stared, shocked, as thick, white streams shot over his fist, up
onto his bare belly, where he’d pulled up his shirt.

I knew it was a sin. It couldn’t
be anything but. Instead of confronting him that first time, I
snuck down the ladder as quiet as I could. I told Ma I didn’t feel
well—and no, I didn’t find Eli in the barn, I said—and went to my
room, which was really mine and Ada’s and Becca’s together.

I felt sick, remembering what I
saw, but I was curious too. What could he have been doing with
himself like that? The sounds he made were sort of like he was in
pain…but why would he be hurting himself? And at the end, the shock
of the liquid shooting from his privates…it wasn’t pee. I knew what
that looked like. My littlest brother, Isaac, had peed on me enough
during diaper changes for me to know the difference.

I lay there a long time, feeling
funny down low in my belly, playing the scene over and over in my
head. Eli was the eldest, in his twenties now, me just behind him,
turned eighteen last spring. He was Ma’s sister’s boy really, but
when my aunt died of sepsis soon after he was born, Eli’s father
had left our order, too full of grief to stay, and the baby had
stayed too. My parents had raised him as their own and we had known
each other as brother and sister from the beginning. I knew I
shouldn’t have watched him, knew I shouldn’t be feeling the way I
was, but I couldn’t seem to help myself.

That’s when I decided to watch
Eli, to see if he did it again. It was the next afternoon he
disappeared from the side of the house where Da had him stacking
wood. I was hanging laundry and saw him head to the barn, so I
followed.

This time, I saw it all, from
beginning to end. I peeked over the top of the ladder to watch,
even untying and taking off my white cap—a sin in and of
itself—hoping the darkness of the barn would hide me, and let my
brown hair blend into my surroundings. If he looked over, he would
only see that—the top of my head and my wide eyes. I watched him
lie back in the hay, unfasten his pants, and start touching his
privates.

It was soft at first—a small
snake in a nest of hair—but the more he touched it, the bigger it
got. I stared, aghast, when it stood straight up, more than double
its original size. Eli licked his palm, calloused from hard work,
and wrapped his fist around the length, moving his hand up and
down, just like the day before.

His breath came faster and
faster—and so did mine. That funny feeling was back in my belly,
low down, cradled in my pelvis. Something ached there, throbbed,
like a tooth does, only it wasn’t a hurtin’ sort of agony, but a
delicious kind. I wanted more of it. And the more I watched, the
more the feeling swelled until I felt like I was going to
burst.

It wasn’t long before he was
moaning again, whispering, “Oh, oh, oh!” and then shoving his
privates up into his fist, the thick white stuff flooding out the
end. There was so much of it!

I didn’t go to my room this
time. Instead, I hurried down the ladder and went back to hanging
laundry, but the gnawing tickle took a long, long time to go away.
Eli’s hand touched mine when I asked him to pass me the milk
pitcher during dinner and I thought the heat rushing through my
torso would make me faint. He gave me a funny look, but I just kept
my eyes down and finished eating.

Still, I didn’t stop watching. I
couldn’t. I felt compelled, even though I knew it was a sin, I knew
the devil was in me, and I had to rub him out. I tried. I did. I
stood on the ladder, watching my brother pump himself like he was a
well, waiting for the blessed moment when the liquid finally
surfaced, and I lifted my long skirts to touch myself too.

I didn’t have what he had. Girls
and boys had different parts, I knew that much from changing
diapers for Ma when the babies needed it, but I never knew how
complimentary the parts were, how different and yet how similar. I
pressed myself there over my undergarments while I watched him,
worrying myself between the legs again and again. I knew if someone
came into the barn—if Da had come in…my blood curdled just thinking
about it.

But he never did. And one day,
when Eli was thrusting up into his hand and I was at my usual spot
on the ladder, watching, I felt the little tickle between my legs
build to a sneeze. Something had to give. My fingers moved, back
and forth, around and around, my whole body tingling with
sensation, and then…it happened.

The world exploded.

I cried out—I couldn’t help
it—my whole body trembling with the force of the devil inside of
me, and I wondered briefly if I had finally driven him out. My legs
wouldn’t hold me. They turned to jelly and I fell, catching myself
halfway down only to lose my grip again and land, hard, on the dirt
floor below.

“Sarah!” Eli was calling. I was
okay, but dazed, breathless, still stunned by what had happened,
and I didn’t answer him. He took the ladder two rungs at a time,
sweeping me up over his shoulder and carrying me back up like I was
a sack of potatoes.

When he had me on the hay,
touching my face, calling my name, I finally opened my eyes. He was
concerned, but embarrassed too, and I knew he was wondering how
much I’d seen.
Oh, Eli, I’ve seen so very much,
I thought,
catching his hand and bringing it up to my heart.

“I know it’s a sin,” I
whispered, lifting his fingers to my mouth and kissing them. “But I
can’t help it.”

“Help…what?” His dark, puzzled
eyes met mine, and I searched his earnest face with my heated
gaze.

“I saw you,” I admitted, feeling
the heat move into my cheeks. He flushed, too. “Eli, it was so
wonderful!”

“Sarah, I’m sorry.” His eyes
dropped to the hay. “It is a sin. I shouldn’t. I need to stop. I
know you’ll have to tell Ma…or Da.”

“No.” I swallowed hard at the
thought and cradled his hand against my cheek. “I don’t want to
tell.”

“But…”

“Something that feels so good
can’t be a sin,” I insisted, half sitting now, back on my elbows.
“It can’t possibly. I just…I understand now. Why you keep doing it,
how the whole world opens up for a moment and you feel like you’re
dying, or flying. I felt like I could touch God himself.”

He was staring at me, wide-eyed.
“How long were you watching?”

“I’ve watched lots of times.” I
lifted my chin, defiant, in spite of my flushed cheeks. “I touch
myself too.”

Eli gaped. “Where?”

I hesitated before slowly
placing a hand between my legs, over my long skirts. “Here.”

Puzzled, he frowned. “But you
don’t have…”

“I know.” I shrugged. “But it
feels good, all the same.”

His eyes brightened, still
focused between my legs. My hand still rested there. “Will you…
show me?”

Stunned, I stared at him for a
moment, unable to breathe. The sort of sin I’d committed so far was
nothing compared to what he was asking. Only babies were allowed to
be naked in front of others. I looked into his eyes, saw the
eagerness, the hunger there, the longing I felt too, and slowly I
started to lift my skirt. His gaze followed its path, up my
knee-sock covered calves, and then my bare knees. He gasped when he
saw those, his eyes following the path of my skirt up my bare
thighs until I had it pulled up to my waist.

Then I pressed my hand between
my legs, over the heated, damp mound there, and began to rub
myself. He watched, fascinated, his breath coming almost as fast as
mine.

“Have you ever taken these off?”
he whispered, tugging at my undergarments.

I shook my head, my heart
hammering in my chest.

“Will you?” he breathed, his
eyes meeting mine. What I saw there made me want to do anything,
anything at all for him. “Oh Sarah, please.”

The desperation in his voice
moved me and I tugged them down and off. The air over my privates
was cool, and I explored with my fingers a place I had only touched
through my clothes, or when I quickly washed myself on Saturdays.
The sensation was incredible, so intense, my fingers growing wet as
I parted the dark hair and probed in between.