Breakfast

Dylan woke up disoriented, feeling like something had changed in the world and he was all off balance, but in the haze between sleep and proper wakefulness, he couldn't put his finger on it.

Before he could wake up properly, his hand was already inside his boxers, stroking his dick while he pictured Emily naked. He loved to think dirty thoughts about his sister. He felt himself coming to the edge, and so slowed, and in this way kept edging until the alarm clock started blaring and he let himself go, the better to shuck his soiled underwear right before showering.

Of course, he jacked off again in the shower, imagining Emily cleaning herself in the same oversized stall. Suds slipping tantalizingly down her back and front.

At breakfast, he stared at her, memorizing the lines of her face, the curve of the breasts hidden by her tracksuit.

She grinned to see her suggestion was having such a big effect. But what good was having a lovesick boytoy who believes everything she says without being able to show off? She slipped off a shoe and rubbed at her socked foot, enjoying how his eyes locked on.

"Fatima is coming over this afternoon. It's okay with you." Fatima was her best friend, and had a special ability to drive Dylan crazy.

He nodded, never looking away from her foot. Emily smirked to think of her power over her stupid brother, and the fun they'd have tonight.