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Belle frowned into the mirror, leaning in to examine a strand of hair pinched between her fingers. She angled it left and right, changing the way the light hit, how it gleamed dully—a far cry from her usual blue. No use in denying it: simply put, Belle was graying.
"Belle?" came a voice from the other side of the door, followed by a knock. "You're taking way too long—can I come in?" Belle leaned on the counter for balance and, without leaving her spot in front of the mirror, used her foot to push the handle down and pull the door open. "What have you been doing in here anyway?" Wise asked. Rather than wait for her to leave, he simply squeezed into the spot between her and the shower, and upon finding that he didn't have enough room, nudged her to the side with his hip.
"I'm graying again," Belle said, holding up the affected strand. "See?"
Wise didn't so much as look, instead sticking his toothbrush under the faucet and then into his mouth. "I told you two weeks ago that I could see your roots."
"I thought you were just being mean!"
Now Wise looked, but with his eyebrow raised and the toothbrush in his mouth, he didn't exactly ooze with sympathy.
So Belle stomped on his foot.
The toothbrush flew from Wise's mouth to clatter on the counter, toothpaste smearing across marble. "What's wrong with you?!"
"I can't go out like this, and you know I can't do my hair alone!" Belle's voice petered out and she took to examining her hair in the mirror again. Now that she was looking for it, it wasn't just that single strand going grey. Worse: Wise was right, even if the rest of her hair hadn't been a shade of waning blue, her roots definitely needed a touchup. "I always miss spots when you're not there to help me."
Wise put the toothbrush back into his mouth and said around it: "I'm busy."
"Liar. With what?"
"I'm going out with Lighter later."
"Oh yeah," she challenged, "when?"
"At three."
Silence reigned as Belle checked her phone— "It's eleven! You have time!" Then, when that didn't work, Belle changed tactics and made her cutest face, the one she sometimes practiced in the mirror after Nicole showed her how best to do it, and looked up at her lashes as though she was the preciousest little thing in the entire universe. " Pleeeeeeeeeease won't you help me? I'll make it up to you!"
"You'll owe me a favor?" Wise asked, frowning slightly as though already thinking about how he'd cash in. He'd stopped brushing his teeth, his hand paused.
"And I promise I'll pay it back real fast," Belle purred. Wise had entered the room wearing nothing but his boxers, prepared to shower, and so Belle stepped in, pushing him against the wall with her hand on his bare chest, then trailed her fingers down, through the slight line that separated his abs until her fingers rested on his waistband. Below, his cock twitched once, already reacting to Belle's presence. In an instant the mood had switched, and not even Wise, the calm and collected older brother, was immune.
"When you said you'd make it up to me, this isn't really what I had in mind—" he began, but his voice cut off at the way Belle squeezed him. " —Fuck! " She began rubbing him over the fabric, coaxing a wet spot to soak through the fabric as he became hard. Gripping him, she pumped once, twice while looking up at him, watching the way his beautiful sea-green eyes fluttered shut on the third.
Belle released him suddenly, allowing his erection to tent his boxers and pulse with need. "What, do you want me to stop?"
Wise's eyes went wide for a moment, his mind at war. It was a face with which Belle was intimately familiar, an expression that told of the battle of will going on in his mind. He was tempted, yes (how could he not be when he had the cutest little sister in the entire world), but his mind could still be swayed in the wrong direction by the smallest bit of reason. If Belle was going to get what she wanted, it was time to take matters into her own hands, or perhaps her mouth.
Dropping to her knees, she hooked Wise's boxers on the way down. His cock sprang up, ready and eager to press against her cheek; Wise sucked in his breath—
—and blew it out in a slow and shuddering exhale—Belle grinned. Game, set, match.
"Wait, Belle, I haven't even showered yet—" he began to protest as Belle gripped him by the base and opened her mouth ("It's fine~" she said), and then she guided his head to meet her lips, to push between.
Wise groaned, his hands flying up to cover his mouth in shock at the sound, and then when Belle took him deep he flailed, desperately searching for anything to grab onto, to anchor himself. He settled on the counter with one hand, the other on her head, his fingers carding into her hair and pulling her onto him, gently at first and then urged to roughness by her moans.
She loved the way he hit the back of her throat; loved the way he tried to hold himself back so that she didn't choke—so gentlemanly!—but what she needed right now was a little of that big brother roughness she knew he had in him. All she had to do was bring it to the forefront. Wrapping her hands around his rear, Belle pulled , impaling herself on him—coaxed him into action so that he thrusted in time with her as she bobbed her head.
Breathing became difficult. Wise hit the back of her throat with each thrust, more vicious now, surging forward to hilt himself in her. At one point Belle gagged, pushed him away to master that pesky coughing reaction, then took him all the way again, humming as a pulse ran through his head, getting closer.
Her hair bobbed with her, bangs waving in front of her eyes—damn, she really was getting gray—and then the gremlin in her rose up and she smiled and pulled off his cock with a slurp. Looking up at him through her lashes she said, "With me sucking your cock like this, is it like looking in a mirror?"
"Can you not be cringe for one blowjob?" Wise groaned, then groaned again for a different reason entirely as Belle began jerking him off with her spit-lubed hand.
" Showwy ," Belle said around his shaft, sputtering bubbles down her chin. She pulled off before continuing, still working him: "Answer the question and I'll let you come in my mouth."
Wise's head tipped back, cock twitching again. "Argh—"
Belle slowed, stopped pumping, licking him from balls to tip, reveling in the way his stomach muscles fluttered, so nearly undone yet so helpless without her to finish him off. "Answer the question," she said.
"Y-yeah," Wise said, staring down at her. His face was red, his chest heaved with exertion as a shudder rippled through him. "It's like staring in a damn mirror!" (Belle could tell he was close because Wise only ever cussed when he was about to come.)
Within five seconds of fucking her throat, Wise's composure shattered. No hint of his usual eloquence remained, gasps of air making him desperate. "Belle, I'm gonna—" His voice was cut off as orgasm ripped through him. Belle tracked its genesis from the tensing of his legs, his grip on her head tightening as she widened her throat and allowed him to thrust in, deeper and deeper until her nose brushed the tightness of his lower stomach. Then with a gasp he released, cock flexing in her mouth, pulsing and pumping into her throat, pulling back to fill her mouth.
Belle pulled him close again, to the base, knowing it was torture, knowing how sublime her throat must feel with his exhale becoming an arching cry, that line of pleasure and pain blurred beyond recognition until all that remained was pure sensation.
Wise's seed was slippery and bitter on her tongue; Belle waited until she was sure Wise's vision had returned and he was looking down at her to swirl it around in her mouth before swallowing in one smooth motion.
" Ahhh ," she said after, showing off the well of her tongue, her empty mouth.
Wise slid down the wall until he was on his butt, naked and wrung out before her, and Belle decided she quite liked seeing what kind of effect she had on her usually straight-laced other half. His cock twitched in aftershock, still stiff.
"S-should we do your hair, then?" he asked, fighting to recover his breath. His eyes were bleary, like he'd just seen an angel and was still recovering from its blinding aegis. His arm trembled with exertion and nearly buckled as he stood.
Belle smiled, accepting his hand to stand back up in turn. "Thanks bro! Let me get the dye."
The canister was in the bottom drawer, hidden near the back, and it took her longer to extricate it than she expected.
And maybe, just maybe, the way she bent at the waist and wiggled her butt wasn't entirely an accident. The perfect trap laid, all she had to do was spring it.
"Oh," she said far too theatrically, snapping up to put her hand on her hip, "I forgot something from my room. I'll be right back!"
Or so she said, but as she turned to leave Wise caught her by the hips, pushing her against the counter to cage her.
Hook, line, sinker.
"What is it big bro?" Belle teased, grinding against his cock. He was already hard again, his shaft nudging between her asscheeks. Injecting as much coquettish innocence into her voice as she could Belle asked: "Did you need something else?"
He said nothing for a moment, breathing heavily into her ear. Then, his voice low enough to be a growl, Wise said, " I need to be inside you, Belle. "
The admission tickled her. "Well if you insist, I suppoooooose I could let you~" No response, save for a desperate huff of breath in her ear. She continued, "But you're gonna owe me! One favor, got it?"
Wise moaned, "Belle, please. " His grip had become obsessive and hard, as though he feared she'd try to leave again and his life depended on her not doing that. That possessiveness, that roughness that he tried so hard to disguise in the day-to-day, sent a bolt of lightning right to Belle's clit—she rubbed up on his cock again, grinning victoriously to herself in the mirror.
When Wise pulled her panties down a string of wetness connected her pussy to the fabric for a long moment before dripping; Wise caught it on his fingers and glided them over her pussy, sliding up between her lips to slicken her clit. Her whole body reacted at that, already sensitive from feeling Wise come in her mouth; her clit was stiff and her lips swollen with want.
Belle spread her legs and leaned over the counter, braced on her elbows; Wise slid his cock through her lips, not to penetrate but to nudge up against her clit a few times before pulling back and aligning himself with her slit.
"Hurry up!" Belle whispered, urging him in by shoving her hips backwards. In the next instant Wise was hilted, his fingers dimpling her hips as he bottomed out inside of her, filling her completely.
"Belle—" he whined into her ear, and the note of pure torture in his voice, as if he was holding back as much as he could; as if just being inside Belle was enough to shred his self control, nearly made her come on the spot. She clenched on him, tight, drawing out another strangled gasp.
She commanded: "Tell me how good my pussy feels."
Wise's breath was hot in her ear, words coming in a rush as he rutted into her. "Wet—warm, Belle —you feel so good." He reached around to spread her pussy wide, then his middle finger found her clit and that pressure became punishing, as though he was trying to pay her back for all the teasing she'd given him.
Tell me how much you love your little sister's pussy, she wanted to say, but Wise had pulled her hood back and was drawing the pad of his finger back and forth over her exposed clit, and thinking was suddenly so hard—
Orgasm hit suddenly, catching her in mid breath. Her exhale became a shuddering thing, depriving her of oxygen as her muscles tensed, preventing the next inhale, and her vision went black as her cunt throbbed, and the whole while Wise never slowed down, relentless. Stars burst, and for a moment in the mirror there wasn't "Wise" and "Belle", but rather two copies of the same person, reduced down to the most simple characteristics.
Gray hair, shaking with sex and sweat. Blown-out sea-green eyes, unfocused. Mouths open in ecstasy. The unspoken vow, the commitment to reach for oblivion, together.
Wow, we really do look alike. And then Belle voiced those thoughts aloud, reaching up to take Wise's chin in her hand, tilting it up to make eye contact. "Seeing us in the mirror like this—it looks like we're the same person!"
Those words seemed to be the nail in the coffin for Wise. Jerking forward, he ground against her hard and spilled his seed in her cunt, thrusting upwards with enough force to bring her to her tiptoes. Two strokes on her trembling and sensitive clit brought Belle over the edge with him, his pulsing cock sending ripples of pleasure through her as orgasm wracked her with a sob, sensation becoming overwhelming void. Wise's teeth found her neck, biting deep, and Belle arched into him, trying for all she was worth to take him just a little bit deeper, to feel him spasm and release in her.
They stayed like that, and for a minute all that existed was two sets of heavy breaths and the fog creeping up the mirror. Wise's aftershocks delighted; Belle squeezed him in return, and that drew more from him, and she imagined him painting her insides with so so much. Then Wise sagged and lowered himself so that he was pressed onto her back, his chin resting on her shoulder.
A droplet of sweat running down her arm—hers or his she wasn't sure—brought Belle back to reality. She took a breath and said, "Now why did that of all things make you nut? Do you like the idea of fucking yourself so much? Or is it that you like fucking me as me?"
Wise covered his face with his hands, red-cheeked, mouth open and still breathing hard. "I—I don't want to talk about it."
"Awwww!" said Belle, (she wiggled her butt to feel him shift inside) "You're a pervert, a narcissist, and a siscon!"
Wise dragged his hands down his face, making an expression that could only be described as despair. "This stays between us."
"Well obviously," Belle snorted, "it'd be a bad look if everyone's favorite proxy pair were publicly known as—" ("Don't! finish that sentence," Wise tried) "—siblings that fuck each other silly on the reg."
Wise groaned again, dragged his hands down his face again, and said: "I hate you sometimes."
"So you're gonna help me with my hair now, right?"
"Get in the shower first," he insisted, wiping his brow, "we're not going to have this conversation while I'm still inside you."
Belle pouted. "Pull out then," she said, and it was so intensely gratifying when Wise did not immediately do so. When he did finally pull out, come leaked down the side of Belle's leg—she brought her thighs together to prevent it from landing on the floor. " Oohhh," she said as the sudden emptiness sent a pang through her.
Wise too seemed to fare as well as she with the sudden loss of closeness: he stumbled and fell back against the wall. That beautiful sunset scarlet color still remained on his cheeks, and his cock shone in the light, soaked in the siblings' depravity.
Belle pulled her bra over her head, discarding it onto Wise's face. "Ugh, you got me all sweaty," she said, and then offered him her hand. "Come on bro, let's get cleaned up."
Still unsteady, Wise said, "S-sure," and stepped into the shower, still wearing her bra as a hat.
"H-hey! Take that off, I was gonna wear it!"
"Too late," deadpanned Wise, and turned on the water.