“Oh, god, Brandon…” I moaned, as my brother stared at me, a wild look in his eyes. “We shouldn’t be doing this…”

He didn’t reply, but as his hand moved higher and higher up my leg, his eyes turned red with lust.

“Please…” I cried, not sure if I was begging for him to stop or keep going, and for a split second, I saw a bit of humanity return to Brandon’s face.

“I need this…” he said thickly, his throat already reshaping with lust. “God, sis…I need this.”

With that, his eyes became completely animalistic, and his mouth went to my throat, gently nipping and biting—not enough to transform me, but certainly enough to leave a mark. I breathed in his heavy musk, and panted with need. My legs spread involuntarily as Brandon’s claws ripped through my panties, and his thick fingers plunged into my pussy.

Against my will, my hips began thrusting forward, desperately wanting to feel Brandon inside of me. I knew how much he needed this….because I needed it too.

ONE WEEK EARLIER:

“Mom!” I cried out when I opened the shower door. “Brandon left hair everywhere again!”

“Oh, dear…” Mom said, tutting as she walked in and inspected the carpet that my step-brother had left after his shower. “I’ll clean it up, darling, but do try to cut him some slack…you know the poor boy is going through a lot at the moment.”

I sighed. Looked like I wasn’t going to be showering before school that morning. Everyone always had such sympathy for werewolves, but no one ever thought about their families—sure, it mustn’t be easy, transforming into a wolf at every full moon, but living with someone who’s gone through such radical transformations is almost impossible.

Before he got bitten, Brandon was just a normal, weedy kid. We got along well enough, but there’s been such a transformation in the last few weeks…it’s like he’s replaced every meal with steroids. He’s gone from shy and stammering to confident and sexy—he never breaks eye-contact any more, and I’m starting to wonder if he ever blinks.

I walked back to my room wearing nothing but a towel, grumbling all the while. Before I could reach my door, however, I noticed another pile of hair on the carpet outside my brother’s door. I rolled my eyes, and knocked on his door.

It wasn’t fair for him, sure—he didn’t mean to be bitten—but his mistake didn’t mean that the rest of us had to suffer. It wasn’t fair for Mom to have to clean up after his mess all the time, and it certainly wasn’t fair for him to remain unaware of the problems that his shedding was causing.

He didn’t answer, but I could hear the loud thrash metal that he’d suddenly become addicted to, ever since transforming, and so I knew he was in there. I opened the door slightly, and almost gagged at the smell that met me.

Teenage boys stink—we all know that. But the smell that penetrated my nostrils was more than just BO, it was a powerful, pungent stench…it immediately made me light-headed, and seemed to draw me in. Without even noticing, I had taken more deep breaths, over and over—I wanted more of Brandon’s stench, I wanted it to fill me up. I wanted to breathe nothing more for the rest of my life.

Chills ran up and down my spine as I gulped in the smell, like a thirsty man given a gallon of water. I closed my eyes to savor the experience, and when I opened them again, I was standing in the darkness. I’d been so overwhelmed by Brandon’s scent that I hadn’t even realized I was walking into his room, and closing the door behind me.

The thrash metal suddenly didn’t seem as loud and obnoxious—in fact, the loudness of it was suddenly enticing. The bass drum provided a steady rhythm that seemed to make my whole body pump—my fists had involuntarily began to open and close to the beat, and suddenly, to my embarrassment, I noticed that my pussy had begun to throb to the rhythm as well.

It took a few seconds for my eyes to adjust to the darkness, but when they did, I suddenly noticed what Brandon was doing. He was laying on his bed, completely naked—the small amount of light peeking through the curtains bounced off the sweat on his muscles, but though I could have spent several hours staring at his new (and vastly improved) body, my attention was instead drawn to his hand.

He was masturbating. Brandon was laying on his bed, furiously pumping his fist up and down his thick, hard cock.

Now I’m no virgin, but I’m also not an expert, if you know what I mean. I’ve had two or three boyfriends, and yeah, maybe I’ve become acquainted with their cocks in that time…and I can assure you, none of them have had cocks like Brandon’s. It must have been a foot long, and with every stroke, it looked like it was oozing out half a cup of pre-cum.

Again, uncontrollably, I began to step towards it. I was entranced—the smell of his sweat, combined with the loud, sticky music, and the sight of his glorious member…it overcame me, and I suffered a few moments of temporary insanity.

Without meaning to, I dropped my towel, reached out, and grasped his cock. Brandon’s eyes opened in shock—I’d never seen them like that before. Since he’d been bitten, they had a strange color to them, but in that moment they were a dark, fierce red, and his fangs curled out of his mouth.

“Anna?” he said, but I didn’t even notice. My mouth opened, watering, and slipped over the head of his cock, and he threw his head back and howled with pleasure.

It had been months since I’d had a boyfriend, and so I hadn’t given head in a while, but I instinctively moved in time with the music, tasting my brother’s hardness, breathing his musk deep into my lungs. He tasted different to the other boys I’d gone down on—tangier, somehow.

The taste of him made me wet, and when he reached down and grabbed my hair, I didn’t resist.

The music pumped into my ears at the same rate that my brother’s cock pumped into my mouth, and my whole body seemed to be finely tuned to providing him pleasure. He fucked my mouth roughly, and I silently screamed with pleasure as he did. One hand was playing with his balls, while the other reached down and rubbed my aching clit as I looked up at him, hoping that he could see that my entire body was dedicated to giving him pleasure.

Soon—all too soon—he howled again as he began to cum, forcing his cock deep into my throat as he pumped wave after wave of semen into my hungry mouth. I came at the same time as he did, my eyes rolling back into my head as I knew that I was serving my purpose, giving my wolf step-brother as much pleasure as a sister can possibly give.

After he came, I kept his cock in my mouth, continuing to enjoy the taste as he slowly softened. As he’d climxed, a fresh layer of hair had begun to poke through his skin, but as he came down it slowly fell out.

Well, I thought, that explains the piles of hair everywhere…

His eyes and face lost their wild look, and he reached over to turn the music off, causing me to shift on my knees slightly to keep his cock in my mouth.

“Sis?” he said groggily, as if he’d just woken up. “Oh, Jesus…”

The high was beginning to fade for me as well, but I continued to suckle on his now-soft penis as we stared at each other awkwardly. It was like a pacifier, it comforted me, even in that incredibly unusual family moment.

Brandon opened his mouth to speak, but before he could the door flew open, and my mother stared at us in shock.

“Brandon!?” she shrieked. “Anna??”

I opened my mouth and let Brandon’s (still large) cock fall out. Mom stormed in, grabbed me by the ear, and pulled me out. As soon as I was clear of the thick smell of Brandon’s pheromones, I burst into tears.

* * *

Apparently it was a well-documented phenomenon. After the transformation, the men get all stinky and horny…and any girl who smells it becomes horny as well. I wish someone had warned me.

Brandon apologized, over and over again, but I couldn’t look him in the face. I couldn’t believe what he’d done…what we had done. What he’d made me do.

Worst of all, I couldn’t believe how much I’d enjoyed it.

I felt sick, horny, and above all confused.

* * *

“Of course you can leave us,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Now that I know what caused it, I won’t do it again. Geez Mom, do you think I’m stupid?”

“Well,” Mom said, pursing her lips and looking at me. “If you’re sure…”

It was clear that she didn’t trust me. It had been two days, and as soon as we got home from school, both Brandon and I locked ourselves in our rooms. I think we all knew what he was doing in his…but only Mom seemed to suspect what I was doing in mine.

Yeah, I couldn’t help it. Ever since I’d smelled Brandon’s musk, I’d been so turned on…it was a miracle that I managed to get through the whole school day without sneaking into the bathrooms and jilling off. I’d get home, plunge my hands into my panties, and after just a few minutes of playing with myself, I’d cum.

I’d masturbated before, of course, but it had been more of a special occasion kind of thing—once a week, when I had a long bath, or if I was reading a particularly hot book. Now, it was a near-constant need. If I didn’t cum two, three, even four times a day, I couldn’t sleep. I’d just lay there, tossing back and forth, remembering the look of Brandon’s cock, the feeling of it in my mouth, the taste…

Finally, Mom left—it was some important function at her work, else I know that she’d never have left me alone in the house with my step-brother. But I wasn’t going to do anything…I was a grown woman, and perfectly capable of staying out of trouble. Even though I knew that Brandon’s cock was only two rooms away, and that no one would ever know if I sneaked in for just one more taste…

No. I was an adult.

An adult with full, firm breasts that I was sure Brandon had noticed. How could he not? Since I’d turned eighteen, I was practically bursting out of my tops…even some of the teachers had begun to stare. Perhaps that was what had gotten him so worked up in the first place, thinking about my cleavage. Maybe he wanted to sink his thick cock between my boobs as much as I wanted him to…

I shook my head, trying not to let such insidious thoughts enter my brain. I had homework to do. Homework that was totally unrelated to sneaking into Brandon’s room, opening the door without him noticing, letting the sweaty, thumping music sink into my brain, stripping off for him and letting him fuck me…

Not staying in my room was definitely a bad move. But I knew that if I tried to do homework on my bed, it would inevitably lead to self-pleasure, and when my head was thick with lust it would be difficult to resist going into Brandon’s room and helping him, the poor boy, so horny, in need of a girl’s touch…in need of his sexy, turned-on sister’s touch.

So I’d gone to the kitchen, and really tried to concentrate. But math problems quickly turned into sexual hypotheticals: how many times could Brandon fuck me before we passed out from exhaustion? How many times could he cum in each of my holes? How deep could I take his cock before I started choking, and would my pussy be able to stretch to accommodate his length…?

And that’s how Brandon had found me. He’d stepped out of his room for a snack—since the transformation, he eats more than the rest of the house put together—and found me with my eyes shut, at the kitchen table, one hand buried between my legs, the other up my shirt, desperately groping at my breast, panting his name…

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