The Forbidden Night: A Brother’s Embrace

Isaac’s breath hitched as he stared at your trembling body, his resolve crumbling under the curse’s relentless pull. Your breasts heaved with every ragged gasp, nipples pebbled and aching, while the slick heat between your thighs glistened under the dim light. The air reeked of sweat and arousal, your body’s musk intoxicating him.

“We can’t,” he growled, fists clenched at his sides, veins bulging in his forearms. “Not like this. Not without… protection.”

The word protection snapped you momentarily out of the haze. “Condoms,” you panted, your voice a needy whimper. “Your room—do you have any?”

Isaac hesitated, shame and desire warring in his eyes. “Bathroom drawer. Top shelf.”

You scrambled off the bed, your new body’s movements unsteady, breasts swaying with every step. The cold tile floor stung your bare feet as you flung open the drawer, fingers trembling as they closed around a foil packet. The crinkle of the wrapper echoed like a lifeline.

Back in the bedroom, Isaac sat rigid on the edge of the bed, his cock fully erect now—thick, veiny, and flushed a deep red. Precum beaded at the tip, his balls drawn tight against his body. You knelt between his legs, the sight of him sending a fresh flood of wetness down your thighs.

“Let me,” you whispered, tearing the wrapper with your teeth. The latex unrolled slowly, clinging to your fingers as you sheathed him, your thumb brushing the swollen head. Isaac hissed, hips jerking involuntarily. “Fuck—careful.”

You didn’t care. The curse roared in your veins, your pussy clenching around nothing, **** to be filled. You climbed onto his lap, knees sinking into the mattress, and guided him to your entrance. The condom’s rubbery texture pressed against your swollen lips, the heat of him radiating through the thin barrier.

“Wait—wait,” Isaac gritted out, hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise. “If this goes wrong… if it breaks—”

“It won’t,” you lied, voice shaking. You needed him now. The curse’s timer pulsed in your skull—36 hours left.

You sank down slowly, the stretch burning as his girth **** your tender walls apart. A broken cry tore from your throat, your cervix already throbbing from the brutal stretch. Isaac’s hands slid to your ass, fingers digging into your cheeks as he pulled you down harder, burying himself to the hilt.

“God, you’re tight,” he groaned, head falling back. “Even like this… you’re still you.”

You rode him frantically, breasts bouncing, sweat-slick skin slapping against his. The condom’s ridge dragged against your inner walls, the friction unbearable. Your clit rubbed against his pubic bone with every thrust, the swollen nub screaming for relief. Isaac’s hands roamed greedily—kneading your breasts, pinching your nipples, smearing your arousal across your stomach.

“Gonna cum,” he warned, voice strained. His hips pistoned upward, driving deeper, the bedframe slamming against the wall.

“No—not yet!” you begged, but it was too late. His release pulsed into the condom, his cock twitching inside you as he emptied himself. The sensation of him throbbing, the heat of his cum trapped against your cervix, nearly sent you over the edge.

You collapsed against him, both of you gasping. Isaac’s fingers slid between your legs, circling your clit with rough urgency. “Your turn,” he muttered, lips grazing your ear. Three strokes later, you shattered, your walls milking his softening cock as you screamed into his shoulder.

The Aftermath

The condom held.

For now.

Isaac disposed of it wordlessly, his hands still trembling. You lay tangled in the sheets, your body humming with aftershocks, the curse’s hunger momentarily sated. But the clock ticked on—35 hours left—and the primal ache was already creeping back, worse than before.