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Pumpkin Spice and Everything Nice

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Penny tried to sleep. She really did. She scrolled through AO3 tags until her eyes blurred. She made a cup of hot cocoa, moving carefully through the kitchen so as not to wake her parents. She listened to three My Favorite Murder minisodes—which were usually so soothing—but as the night ticked over into midnight, and then deeper into the dark, early morning, she still couldn’t sleep. One thought kept her awake, brushing her every nerve like the chill autumn wind outside:

Henry!

She had been marking the days until his return. Did he think about her as much as she thought about him? Henry loved Halloween. Ever since they were both little, they would go trick or treating with each other. Henry always watched over her, making sure that the mean kids never took her candy, or if she ever got too cold, he would bundle her up in whatever piece of his costume he could until they could get back inside.

Once they got old enough, their parents would stay home to give out candy to other trick or treaters, and Henry and Penny would go out into the dark October night together, hand in hand. That was when watching over her developed a whole new meaning.

Those were some of the sweetest memories Penny had with her brother. Like last year—when she had dressed as Sailor Moon and he had dressed as a taller, buffer Sailor Moon—

“Aren’t you two getting a little old for this?” the lady at the door had asked, her eyes lingering on Henry. She was judging him, hanging onto her stupid bowl of Coffee Crisps like Henry was going to trying to steal them from her. Penny had bristled, anger rising from deep inside.

Henry just laughed, because of course he did. He was too kind, too forgiving. That’s why Penny loved him best. Henry never took offense.

This lady didn’t know how important this was. Henry always took Penny Trick or Treating. Always.

Henry’s hand landed on her shoulder, and Penny jumped, quickly rearranging her features into a smile before she looked up to him.

“Of course, Mrs. Nesquik. Sorry to have bothered you.” Henry’s smile was perfect, so pleasant and sincere. “Have a good one!”

Penny followed Henry as he walked away, her candy sack thumping against her leg with every stride. Mrs. Nesquik shouted something after them—an apology? It didn’t matter. “She was rude, Henry.”

“I know, little sister, I know.” He called her that to make her squirm, but knowing that didn’t make Penny like it any less. Henry smiled at her, and she brushed up against him, making her eyes wide and hopeful and cute. “You look delicious,” Henry added, giving her one of his perfect smiles.

“Good enough to eat?” Penny asked, the problem of Mrs. Nesquik momentarily forgotten. It was so good to have him home. Close enough to touch, to hold. She had missed him so much.

“All night long,” Henry answered, patting her on the head, careful not to dislodge her wig. “You want to melt in my mouth and not in my hand, don’t you, Penny?”

She did, but… “I’d melt in both, Henry. Anything for you.” The street behind them was empty, and her skirt was as short as his was. There were live wires under her skin, crackling with eager energy, and Henry had barely even touched her earlier. “...please?”

Henry’s eyes crinkled at the corners, his mouth curving into a beautiful smile, and Penny laughed in delight. “Anything for you, baby sister.”

The leaves crunched beneath her feet as Henry led her off the sidewalk to the old oak tree in Mrs. Nesquik’s yard. Her hand felt so small, wrapped in his.

“I missed you,” Henry said. His eyes glowed like a jack-o-lantern’s in the reflected light of Mrs. Nesquik’s bay window, shimmering as he dropped to his knees in front of her. He licked his lips, staring up at Penny like she was a whip-cream-topped latte, and he’d been deprived of coffee for far too long. “Are you wearing underwear, Penny?”

She shook her head gleefully, lifting the hem of her skirt to show him. “Is this okay?” Penny asked, knowing that it was—of course it was! But Henry liked it when she asked, and Penny would do anything for him.

Henry’s hand slid in between her thighs, and Penny quickly spread them wider, shivering as the cool autumn air met the heated flesh of her freshly shaved pussy. Henry’s fingers slipped easily into her wetness, meeting no resistance as they thrust in deep, and Penny had to bite her lip to hold back a moan.

She loved him so much that it hurt. When he left her, it was like someone ripped off a piece of her soul, but he had to go. If Henry didn’t leave, he could never come back.

Penny squirmed, Henry’s fingers stretching her pussy while Mrs. Nesquik’s curtains twitched. A curl of cool, sweet October air skimmed her bare thighs, and her willpower shattered—not that she’d ever had much of it. Penny’s fingers dove for her clit, Henry’s gentle laughter following her through her first treat of the night.

“Henry—” Penny whined when he stopped fingerfucking her to suck her juices off his fingers. “—please big brother? I missed you so much.”

“Are you sure? I barely felt necessary,” Henry teased, his grin making another tremor of pleasure roll through her. “You made it all the way home by yourself—what’s a big brother to do, huh?”

Penny spread herself open with her fingers, and tilted her head to the side, pouting at him. “Henry, you haven’t fucked me since Labor Day. I haven’t even touched myself!” she lied, before grinning as he slowly stood, his fingers licked clean of every last drop.

Henry was so much taller than her! It was so unfair—he took after dad’s side—but Penny barely minded when he was fucking her. She flipped up his skirt with a giggle that became a snicker when his cock wound up holding it up like a flag pole.

He was so hot in her hand, and his eyes fluttered shut in such a gratifying way. Penny stroked his cock again, just to see Henry’s mouth open, to hear her big brother moan for her. She loved him so much. He was like a king-sized candy-bar in her hand, and she wanted to stick him in her mouth almost as bad as she wanted to fuck herself on it.

“Henry?” Penny asked, her voice sweet and innocent because she’d fake anything for him. “Can you give me a creamy filling?” His eyes opened, and Penny beamed at him, stroking his full-size fun bar and watching Henry squirm for her. “Please big bro?”

“You want to be my Cadbury Creme Egg—”

“That’s Easter, Henry.” She pinched his foreskin between her fingers to help him concentrate. “This is Halloween.”

“My pumpkin spice latte?” Henry corrected himself, his grin wavering only for a second.

That will do, Penny decided after a second.

Then Henry’s warm hands cupped her ass and lifted her up to greet his red licorice whip. “Oh Henry!” she cried out, wrapping her legs around his waist, feeling his cock press against her and then pause there while he grinned at her, the jerk.

Henry’s grin widened. He tugged her top down until her breasts spilled out, her gumdrop nipples tightening from the autumn chill. When he dropped his head and pulled one into his mouth, while squeezing the other between his fingers, Penny bit at her knuckles. He knew how very sensitive she was there, her pussy leaking like a gusher. It’s just not fair“Henry, please—”

“Please what, my sweet little Penny candy?”

She frowned, and tried to drag him into herself using her legs as levers. Her attempt to fuck herself was foiled by Henry lifting her higher, and she sighed, “Henry, will you please fuck me?”

“Is that how you ask for a treat?”

Penny glared, but she couldn’t keep the scowl, not with Henry so close to finally celebrating the holidays with her. “Oh Henry. Fine, you big jerk—trick or treat!”

His eyes crinkled at the corners as he grinned at her and finally filled her candy bag. Penny stretched her neck to press her mouth against his, tasting candy corn and coffee in her beloved brother’s mouth.

Henry stretched her so much wider than his fingers had, and Penny nearly came from that alone. Her big brother was big and curved perfectly for her pleasure. But it was Henry teasing her clit that sent her straight into sweet, sugar-soaked heaven.

It’d been months since Labor Day, and neither of them lasted long. Henry’s mouth was nougat-y soft on hers as he spilled their family fun recipe inside her welcoming body.

After they straightened their clothes and attempted to make themselves presentable again, Henry had thrown his arm around Penny’s shoulders and pulled her close against his side as they slowly wandered back to their house. Each step they took caused Penny’s shirt to rub against her swollen nipples, sticking out like obscene milk duds through the clinging fabric of her sailor outfit. Henry just shot her a knowing smile and pulled her closer against his side. Feeling Henry’s creamy filling leak from her body and down her thighs, Penny had felt a delicious, naughty thrill at the wrongness of it.

Now, in the phantom gray before dawn, Penny gave up on sleep and moved into the kitchen. She ran her fingers through the bowl of candy corn on the counter. There was something so sensual about the hard, smooth little candies rattling at her touch, soft and firm against her palm. Her hand twitched, clenched into a fist, held a palmful. She closed her eyes, and the too-sweet scent filled her lungs.

Last October—before Halloween—one night when Henry was home for the weekend and their parents were off at a Rotary meeting—they had shared a bowl. Henry knew candy corn was her favorite, and he’d filled the giant popcorn bowl with it. Tugged her into the kitchen, his hand so large and warm around her wrist, so gentle over her eyes as he murmured, “I have a surprise,” against the shell of her ear. His voice, his touch, sent the same sweet heat through her as ever.

And when he let her open her eyes, she saw the veritable tub of white, yellow, orange sweetness, waiting for her.

“Holy moley,” Penny had said breathlessly. “That’s more candy corn than I’ve ever seen in my life.”

“Yeah, I got it online from a guy in Canada. Wait, that’s not even the best part,” Henry said, with a mischievous look in his eyes. He took out something from the pocket of his cargo shorts and handed it to her. Penny examined it. It was a box of pumpkin spice condoms. She blushed, beet-red. That Henry! How did he know that she was such a slut for pumpkin spice?

“I read your Tumblr,” Henry said, bending down so his mouth pressed against the back of her neck. “You’re up all hours, so it’s almost like I’m there with you. You reblog a lot of pictures of pumpkin spice this time of year.”

“Oh my God, Henry,” Penny said, her voice shaking with emotion. “You’re the best brother in the world.”

They couldn’t wait any longer. She bore him to the tiled floor, spilling the candy corn over his body, pressing the waxy candy against his hot skin. Penny licked and bit at any part of him that she could reach, so hungry for this, for this intimacy that she only had with him, only him, and not nearly often enough. She kissed down his body, licking down his abdomen—so taut from hiking and badminton—but before she could move lower, his soft, strong hand tangled in her hair, and held her still.

She looked up, panting, and he grinned at her, pearly whites flashing. He sat up—abs tightening in a perfect crunch upwards—and pulled her into a kiss. Her pumpkin-colored fingernails dug into his thighs, and then all her thoughts scattered as his mouth opened into hers. Something foreign nudged her lip. Too hard to be Henry’s tongue. Her heart pounded, and she eagerly licked into his mouth, claiming the half-melted candy corn.

The softening candy was gone a bite later, and she pulled away enough to giggle breathlessly, “You’re so sweet, Henry.”

He held her by the chin and tenderly brushed the sugary spit from her lower lip. “You’ve had your sugar,” he said, in a rich, rumbling voice like a coffee grinder that made her belly heat up like nothing else. “Now it’s time for some spice, and everything nice.”

He held up a condom. The wrapper had a picture of a winking jack-o-lantern.

She took it from him and sat back on her heels to open it, with a highly necessary toss of her hair. She loved the feel of his eyes on her—green like cat’s eyes, like a witch’s brew—like hers. They were the same in every way that mattered—

Except, she thought smugly, the parts I like best.

His cock swelled like a sun-ripened gourd under her hand, and she wasted no time in rolling the condom down over it. She loved the way he jumped to her touch, the way his breath hitched, the way he moaned, “Penny,” as she finally bent to kiss his cockhead through the orange latex. She lapped hesitantly, then with renewed fervor as the rich, autumnal flavor filled her mouth, her lungs, her very being.

Henry really was the best brother in the world.

Shivering with the memory, Penny suddenly recalled something else. She rushed to the cupboard, heart pounding, before she found the plump, crinkling white bag. It shifted obligingly under her touch, and the two-pound heft was solid and exciting. She had been saving it for this very occasion: Folgers Pumpkin Spice Cappuccino Mix.

Well, she hadn’t intended to save it. She fucking loved pumpkin spice. But when she made a cup by herself, three weeks ago, all she could remember was the taste of latex under the spice, and a gentle hand in her hair.

She wasn’t really a slut for pumpkin spice. She was only a slut for Henry.

Penny plucked one candy corn from the bowl and popped it into her mouth. She sucked it, let it melt, closed her eyes and imagined it blended with a richer, saltier flavor. And as the last sugar crystals melted away—

The doorbell rang.