Breakfast on the go

No breakfast is worth having to endure your creepy brother staring at you the whole time, pretending no one notices him jerking off under the table. Your mother would probably just make you suck him off. You groan at the thought. You'd rather be retarded.

You bound down the stairs two at a time and straight into the kitchen. Two lecherous pairs of eyes follow your breasts intently as they bounce across the room to the fridge. Three enraptured pairs of eyes watch you bend over to get a piece of fruit from the bottom shelf, exposing the thin black line that does nothing to cover your pussy and asshole. You stand back up and turn around to see your father and brother immediately pretend to be interested in something else, but your brother's hand doesn't stop shuffling around inside his pants.

"Morning Dad, Morning Mom," you say, more or less cheerfully.

"Pete" you glower, then begin looking on all the counters for your keys.

Your parents bought Pete the car when he got his license, but **** him to share with you once you got yours shortly after. Since he always saw it as "his car" you always seemed to end up having to beg Pete to use it even though it was supposed to be equal. The only favor he ever does for you is to give you your dose without physical ****; whereas you're still mad at him for giving you the keys by making you bend over so he could stick it up your ass and twist to "start your engine". You rub your aching ass at the memory.

"Has anyone seen my keys?" you say, and get the reply of jingling set of keys hitting the floor beside Pete. You can't believe he'd be so brazen in front of your parents.

You walk over to the keys and sigh as you bend over to pick them up. Pete grabs a handful of your exposed ass, trying to get the tip of a finger in either hole before you swat his hand away.

"Peter don't sexually harass your sister, she's not dressed like that for you, she has a condition," Your mother chides as she places down two plates of pancakes. "And get your hand out of your pants at the table. You're not gonna have pancakes?"

Pete jerks his hand out of his pants.

"No thanks mom, gotta go! Maria is meeting me at school for that festival thing and I'm already late" You say, violently biting off a chunk of banana and gnashing it in Pete's direction.

"At least get a dose from Pete before you go," you mother says, eyeing Pete who has already returned his hand to his pants. "He seems to be ready to... donate."

"No thanks, Mom! I was up two whole points this morning! Don't worry, I'm getting plenty," you lie, then begin heading for the door. You shout back playfully "Byyeeeee evverrryyoooonnnnee!" and jog to the door.

You exit quickly and slam the door behind you. Finally free, you enjoy the warm sunshine beaming down on your mostly exposed tan skin. You look across the street to see the your mailman face fucking your neighbor on the front porch. Home medication delivery it seems. He pauses momentarily and they both wave at you in a neighborly way before resuming with extra vigor. You look over to your car.

Alright! Time to go.