The sun was persistent, frying the car from the inside out and making us feel trapped in a moving sauna. My red hair was damp from sweat and stuck tightly to the back of my neck and over my forehead. I kept moving, hoping to find a less uncomfortable posture, but the heat made it difficult. My skirt had climbed up my thighs, and as I moved, the fabric crumpled underneath me, sticking to my body in the humid air.
I tugged at it, but it was a losing battle. The crop top I’d picked this morning—small, snug, and low-cut enough to show just a hint of cleavage—felt like a second skin, the fabric gripping my curves and making every movement difficult. I could still hear Mum’s irritated sigh from the first time she saw me in it, her eyes narrowing slightly as if to say, “Really, Sarah, silently?”
Sitting next to me, James looked like he was already over this road trip. His t-shirt was sticking to him in all the wrong places, and his shorts bunched up awkwardly as he tried and failed to get comfortable. He had that familiar, brooding look on his face — the one that told me he was about two seconds away from either snapping at me or begging Dad to pull over and let him escape into the cool air outside.
“Hey, James,” I said, letting the mischief seep into my voice. I leaned in close, my bare shoulder brushing against his arm just enough to annoy him. He let out a dramatic sigh, his eyes still glued to the scenery flashing outside, doing his best to ignore me.
“What now, Sarah?” he grumbled, his voice heavy with irritation. But I could tell he was trying to keep his cool, though it was a battle he was bound to lose.
“Just wondering how long you think it’ll be before Dad tells you to walk the rest of the way,” I teased, a grin spreading across my face. I knew exactly which buttons to push, and I wasn’t about to let this opportunity slip by.
“Sarah, knock it off,” he muttered, his face scrunching up in annoyance. He was trying so hard not to take the bait, but I could see the tension building in his shoulders, his body betraying his frustration.
I nudged him lightly with my foot, just enough to make him squirm in his seat. “Come on, James. Lighten up. We’ve got hours left on this trip. You might as well make the best of it.”
“How am I supposed to enjoy it when you don’t stop annoying me?” he snapped, finally turning to glare at me, his eyes flashing with the kind of irritation only a sibling can evoke.
I smirked, leaning back into my seat, the tightness of my crop top pulling slightly as I moved. “You know you secretly love it.”
But before he could retort, Dad’s voice sliced through the air, sharp and commanding. “Will you two pack it in? Stop squabbling!”
Mum turned around in her seat, her eyes narrowing as she gave us that stern, warning look that only a mother can provide. James crossed his arms, his face flushing with frustration and embarrassment, but he said nothing more.
The car fell into a thick, stifling silence, broken only by the engine’s hum and the tyres humming along the road. I glanced sideways at James, half-expecting him to plot some revenge, but for now, he was quiet, staring out the window with a scowl etched into his features.
I slumped back in my seat, trying to get comfortable despite the sticky heat and the lingering tension in the air. My crop top clung to my skin, and the low-cut neckline made me acutely aware of every breath and every movement. A part of me felt a little guilty for winding James up, but another part — the one that had spent years perfecting this sibling rivalry — knew it was all in good fun. After all, what’s a road trip without a bit of drama to keep things interesting?
I was lost in my thoughts, trying to ignore the sweat trickling down my back, when I felt eyes on me. I turned my head slightly and caught James staring at me. His gaze flickered quickly from my face down to the neckline of my crop top before he looked away, his cheeks turning a deeper shade of red.
“Why are you eyeing me up, weirdo?” I teased, half-serious, half-amused.
His eyes widened in surprise, and he quickly looked away, stammering, “I’m not! You’re just… You’re just being annoying.”
I rolled my eyes and shook my head, settling back into my seat with a small, satisfied smile. Even when he wasn’t saying much, James was so easy to wind up. And, as far as I was concerned, that was all part of the fun.
“Honest, James,” I said quietly, leaning in just a bit, “I don’t mind.” I gave him a cheeky smile, watching as he turned an even deeper shade of red, his discomfort palpable in the oppressive heat of the car. The tension between us hung in the air, thick as the summer heat, but it was laced with that unspoken bond of siblings — a mix of annoyance and affection that only we understood.
I stretched my legs out a bit, letting my skirt ride up just a little higher, feeling the cool air from the vents hit the bare skin of my thighs. The movement caught James’s attention, and I didn’t miss how his eyes flicked down to my legs before quickly snapping back to the window. He was trying so hard to ignore me, but it was clear that he was failing.
“James,” I said, my voice a little more insistent now. I reached out, my fingers lightly brushing against his arm. He flinched at the contact, his head whipping around to face me, his eyes wide with a mix of surprise and something else — something that made my heart beat.
“Pass me the picnic blanket, James,” I said as I fiddled with my crop top to make it look tighter.
James’s reaction was almost comical, his eyes darting between my face and the blanket I had just mentioned as if unsure whether this was another one of my pranks. I kept my expression neutral, though the corners of my lips threatened to curl into a smirk.
“Why do you want the blanket?” he asked, his voice laced with suspicion, yet there was a slight tremor that I picked up on, a tell-tale sign that the tension between us wasn’t just in my head.
“You will see, and shh, don’t shout,” I said as I looked at our parents, who were none the wiser.
James hesitated momentarily, his eyes narrowing as he tried to figure out what I was up to. The car’s interior was thick with heat, the air stifling and heavy, and the tension between us only seemed to add to the oppressive atmosphere. I could see the wheels turning in his head, his uncertainty mingling with a curiosity he couldn’t entirely suppress.
“Fine,” he muttered, finally relenting. He reached over, carefully pulling the picnic blanket from between us. His arm brushed mine again, the brief contact sending a slight shiver through me despite the heat. He handed me the blanket, his fingers brushing against mine long enough to make the moment feel strangely charged.
I took the blanket, trying to keep my expression neutral, though inside, I was buzzing with the electric tension between us. I unfolded the blanket slowly; I then dropped it over both our legs to the waist.
The blanket settled over our laps, its soft fabric contrasting the oppressive heat that clung to everything else in the car. The gesture was casual enough on the surface, but underneath, there was a current of something more, something unspoken and thick with tension. I could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on us, mingling with the oppressive warmth that made the air in the car feel almost unbearable.
James shifted slightly, his leg brushing against mine under the blanket. The contact was brief, but it rained through me, a spark of awareness I tried to ignore. I kept my eyes forward, pretending not to notice, but how my heart sped up betrayed me. I could feel James tense beside me as if he was just as aware of the charged atmosphere as I was.
The road stretched endlessly, the landscape outside blurring in greens and browns. The engine’s hum and the steady rhythm of the tyres on the road were the only sounds, but they did nothing to drown out the pounding of my heart in my ears. I could still feel James’s eyes on me, a furtive glance here and there, as if he couldn’t help but look, even though he knew he shouldn’t.
I tugged at the edge of the blanket, pulling it up a little higher, and in doing so, my fingers brushed against his thigh. The contact was light, barely more than a whisper, but it was enough to make him flinch, his breath hitching in a way that made me glance at him, half-curious, half-amused.
“Relax, James,” I murmured, my voice soft and laced with the teasing affection that had always been our unspoken language. “It’s just my hand.”
James swallowed hard, his eyes darting away from mine as if he were trying to process the situation without overreacting. But I could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his breath quickened, even though he was trying hard to keep it together. The air between us felt charged, humming with an unspoken energy that tinged my skin.
I left my hand where it was, lightly resting on his thigh beneath the blanket. It was a simple gesture, but it felt so much more like we were tiptoeing around the edges of something that neither of us fully understood. The car’s interior seemed to shrink around us, the heat pressing in, amplifying the closeness, the contact.
James didn’t move or push my hand away, but he didn’t acknowledge it either. He just sat there, staring straight ahead, his jaw clenched, as if waiting for me to make the next move. The silence between us was thick, almost suffocating, and every breath I took felt shallow and laboured.
I could feel the fabric of his shorts under my fingers, the warmth of his skin radiating through the material. My skin was sweaty, and my crop top stuck to me uncomfortably, but I barely noticed. All my focus was on that small point of contact, how it made my heart race and the air between us feel electric.
I leaned in slightly, closing the distance between us just a little more, so close now that I could feel the heat coming off his body, mingling with mine. My voice was barely more than a whisper when I spoke, teasing and soft.
“You’re so tense, James. You need to relax,” I said, letting my words hang between us, knowing exactly what kind of reaction I was provoking. Also, I kept checking Mum and Dad.
“Sarah, what are you doing?” he finally whispered, his voice strained and low, as if he was afraid to speak any louder.
I smiled softly, leaning in closer, feeling the tension coil tighter between us. “Nothing, James. I’m just trying to make this trip a little more bearable,” I murmured, my fingers brushing lightly over his thigh. The movement was subtle but enough to make him shift uncomfortably; I grabbed his hand and put it on my thigh.
“Sarah,” he whispered again, his voice barely audible, laced with confusion and something else—something that made my heart skip a beat. He glanced towards the front of the car, checking on Mum and Dad, but they were still oblivious, lost in their world.
“It’s just a bit of fun, James; just go with it,” I whispered back, my tone light and teasing but with an undercurrent that hinted at something more. I could feel the warmth of his hand through the thin fabric of my skirt, and the contact sent a shiver up my spine despite the oppressive heat. I didn’t move; I kept my eyes on him, waiting to see what he would do next.
I felt his hand squeeze my thigh; I sneaked my hand to his crotch and squeezed his solid junk.
James’s breath hitches as my hand makes contact with his crotch, his body tensing in surprise and a mix of pleasure. He tries to stifle any sounds he might make, not wanting to draw our parents’ attention to what we’re doing. His grip on my thigh tightens, his fingers digging into my skin as if to ground himself.
“If I were you, James, I would ask Dad to put some music on because you’ll need it,” I said, sneaking my hand inside his shorts.
When James’s breath hitches, I feel a thrill of satisfaction surge. I curl my fingers around him, feeling the warmth and the solidity of his length. I keep my hand there, gently stroking him as the tension between us builds, growing heavier and more insistent. I can feel his body responding to my touch, and I feel him growing harder in my grip.
“We don’t need the radio on, Sarah, what are you doing?” James breathes, his voice a low whisper, full of disbelief and shock. But even as he protests, I can feel him relaxing under my touch, his grip on my thigh loosening slightly.
I don’t respond, choosing instead to continue what I’m doing. I watch as James’s face flushes, his eyes heavy with desire. I can feel the tension in his body, the way he’s straining against me, and it only heightens my excitement. I’ve never pushed things this far with James, and I can feel the thrill coursing through me.
“We’re going to get caught,” James says, but even as he speaks, I can feel the uncertainty in his voice, the way he’s wavering between stopping me and letting me continue. I can see the hunger in his eyes, the way they’ve darkened with desire, and it only encourages me.
“No, we won’t chill out pussy,” I said as I continued to stroke his cock.
The car suddenly stops, “ok, rest stop,” my dad says, getting out.
“We will wait here, won’t we, James? Can you bring us both back a coffee,” I said, smiling, looking innocent.
They both got out, leaving us; I waited until they were out of site. I moved the blanket and saw precum seeping out the slit of his cock.
I leaned my head to his dick, and I took James’s cock into my mouth, relishing the feeling of his hard length against my tongue. I could taste the saltiness of his precum, and I moaned softly, the sound vibrating against his skin. James’s breath hitched in response, his fingers tangling in my hair as he tried to hold back.
I took him deeper into my mouth, my lips stretching around his girth as I sucked him harder. I could feel him growing even harder under my touch, the feel of him inside me driving me wild with desire. I slid my hand up his thigh, feeling the muscles tense and release under my fingertips.
I began to move faster, my head bobbing up and down as I took him deeper with every stroke. James’s breath was coming in short, sharp gasps now, his fingers tightening in my hair as he tried to hold back. I could feel the tension building between us, the heat and the closeness only amplifying the sensations.
I pulled off his cock while wanking him off, “Just keep looking out the window in case they come back.”
I slid my hand up and down his cock, relishing the feel of his hard length, the silky skin, the hot blood pulsing through it. I could hear his heavy breathing and feel his heart pounding as he fought to hold back his moans. I moved faster, my hand tightening around him as I began to build a steady rhythm.
I put him back in my mouth; I could feel him throbbing in my mouth, the tension building, and I knew he was close. I sucked him harder, my cheeks hollowing as I took him in and out, my hand still working in tandem with my mouth. James’s breath was coming in ragged gasps, his fingers tightening in my hair as he tried to hold back.
My head bobbing up and down his thick steel rod as I moaned around his cock. My hand tightly around the base of his shaft as I give him intense strokes as I sucked his cock harder. I heard him gasp and mumble, “Oh fuck suck it, you slut,” and I sucked him harder. My fingers slid over the slick skin of his shaft as I stroked him firmly, my other hand gently teasing his heavy ball sack. The car’s interior filled with the sounds of our laboured breathing and the soft sucking noises from my mouth around his cock.
But then, suddenly, he couldn’t hold back anymore. I felt him stiffen, his hips bucking as he let out a low, guttural moan, the sound muffled by the car’s interior.
“Ungh… Sarah, oh fuck.” I felt him release, the warmth of his cum filling my mouth, and I swallowed, savouring the taste and the feeling of him inside me.
As James’s breathing slowly returned to normal, I pulled off his cock, giving it a final lingering lick before tucking it back into his shorts. I smiled up at him, feeling a sense of satisfaction and intimacy that I had never felt before.
“You can thank me later,” I whispered, giving his thigh a playful squeeze before settling back into my seat, the blanket still covering our laps.
We finished just in time as they got back in the car.
