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NO BIG DEAL
Warning: contains incest, implied and otherwise. If this is likely to offend you, hit the back button, please. This story is not to be archived without permission. No Big Deal
The first time it happens is at the hotel, in Italy. Nothing much happening today so they're just hanging out in the master suite before lunch. The conversation starts out serious but - like always - it gets silly pretty fast. They end up rough-housing on the sofa like big ungainly kids, tickling and being tickled, but Ridge is a lot better at this than she is so before long Bridget's shrieking for mercy. She jumps up laughing, out of range or so she thinks - he just grins ferally and lunges up in one smooth motion, Bridget's giggle turning to a scream as he grabs her around the waist and whirls her around the room. She's slippery though, twisty like an eel and crafty from years of practice, so he doesn't keep a hold on her for long. Eventually, though, they're tired of chasing one another around the room and collapse onto the bed in a tangle of limbs. Her hair falls over his face and he complains loudly, picking the strands from his mouth. "Ha," Bridget retorts breathlessly, digging him in the ribs with her elbow, "you deserve it." Growling, Ridge wraps her in a bearhug to keep her bony elbows in check; thwarted but not yet defeated, Bridget kicks at his shins and wriggles in his lap in retaliation. And then - he think it's maybe because he's just been running around like a hyperactive kid and the blood's still pumping hot in his veins; and yeah they've done this a million times before but he's been kind of emotional lately so maybe that's why; or maybe it's just, y'know, the friction of her ass rubbing against his crotch - but Ridge is suddenly half-hard and he's never been so embarrassed in his life. It's not like he's still fourteen and turned on by linoleum, for christ's sakes, he's a grown man and he's supposed to have some control over this and Bridget is his sister, jesus, and fuck she just keeps on wriggling. She hasn't noticed, thank god. "Quit it, Ridge," she's giggling, "let go of my arms, you big bully." Ridge almost throws her aside in his haste to stand up. "Ow," he hears her say, "that hurt. Idiot." He ignores her. Quickly he glances down and jesus it's obvious, and he really really has to something about this soon. The bathroom's just a few steps away, thank christ, and he's already moving towards the door when Bridget pounces from behind and throws her arms around his waist. He stumbles forward a couple of steps and almost slams face-first into the wall. "Fuck, Bridget," he says, more harshly than he intended, wrenching her hands off his body, "watch what you're doing." "Stop being so pissy, Ridge," she says tartly. She shoves him in the shoulder and half-pushes, half-pulls him around to face her. "What's wrong?" Bridget teases, "big brother dishes it out but can't take it in return?" She plants her hands on the wall to either side of him. He's trapped. Ridge can feel the blood burning in his cheeks, his hands, his groin. It's worse now that she almost has him pressed up against the wall, for fuck's... "Leave me alone," he says hoarsely, hating how pettish and breathless he sounds. "I need to-" He strangles on the words and leaves the sentence unfinished. She must feel him pressing against her thigh because suddenly she blushes and says, "Oh," softly. She lets her arms fall to her sides; while her eyes drop to his crotch and widen fractionally. "Yeah," he says roughly. "Okay? So get out of my way-" Ridge assumes she'll step out of the way now, or that he'll be able to push her gently aside, but instead Bridget does something completely unexpected. She looks up at him for a moment, eyes wide and mouth smiling, and then her hands reach down for his belt. His mind reels; but his dick just gets harder. "Bridget," he gasps, "what the fuck are you-" "Shhh," Bridget says soothingly, as though to an impatient child, and now her nimble fingers are undoing his fly. "Don't be embarrassed. It happens to everyone. I don't mind." Ridge should do something, say something, should shove her away and run out the door screaming. But he doesn't. He's frozen, horrified, petrified. His mouth is open in an 'O'. He can't look down, he can't look down and actually watch Bridget - Bridget, his little sister - pulling his cock out of his trousers so he stares into her eyes instead. "Let me help you out, Ridge," she says gently, like this is something she does every day. "Just let me..." By this time he's so close to getting off anyway that there's really no point in fighting any more, right? So he closes his eyes and tilts his head back against the wall, while her hand works steadily below, slowly at first then faster, then - ohhhh. When Ridge can finally bring himself to open his eyes again, Bridget is matter-of-factly wiping her hands with a Kleenex. "Better?" she asks, smiling calmly. He makes an incoherent sound. "I'll take that as a yes. Okay, just let me wash my hands and then the bathroom's all yours," she continues calmly, heading towards the door. "Bridget," Ridge chokes out. Hastily he shoves himself back into his pants and zips his fly. "Bridget." "Something wrong, Ridge?" she says innocently, turning. "You -" he says. "You just -" He swallows hard. You just, he wants to scream, you're my sister and you just got me off and now you're acting like nothing's happened!? She's shaking her head. "Oh, Ridge, sweetie. Don't worry about it." "But it's- we're-" "Just helping you out," Bridget says lightly, waving it off. "I mean, I do it for all my brothers. It's not like it’s a big deal, you know?" She smiles and shrugs, steps into the bathroom, and closes the door behind her. After a moment the sound of running water can be heard. Ridge is grateful for that - the squeak of the faucet, the gurgle of water going down the drain. Otherwise, he thinks as he sits down on the edge of the bed, the silence could be deafening.
Disclaimer: I don't own the The Bold and the Beautiful or associated characters, and I am certainly not trying to make a profit off them either. |