[NB. if this seems familiar — it is an edited, somewhat expanded version of a story I posted on my alt, in another sub. Enjoy; feedback is welcome. May be continued if feedback is positive. Reminder: this is pure *fiction*; don’t read if you dislike taboo topics, the nature of which should be pretty clear from the title.]
My parents had me late in life (I think I was kind of an accident) and my sister is 7 years older than me. When I was little, she was always like a distant, big slightly scary person who didn’t really seem to like me, probably because she was going through her angsty years when all I wanted was someone to play with. Later on, it wasn’t so bad. She definitely wasn’t unkind to me or anything, just a little bossy, but most of the time she’d just ignore me and do her own thing.
My parents weren’t emotionally detached, exactly, but they had busy lives and I don’t think they really wanted to raise another kid that much. So I was lavished with lots of toys and things, but I always had the feeling that no one really wanted to pay attention to me, not them, and not my sister either. To be fair, I probably annoyed my sister with trivial stuff more than I should have. Our parents went out a lot. When I was really little, there was always a babysitter, but later they would just leave my sister in charge. It didn’t mean she really had to take care of me or anything; I was old enough to do my own thing and not get into trouble. But if there was an emergency or something like that, my sister was supposed to be the responsible one. There were never any real emergencies, of course, and so mostly my sister would stay in her room and I’d stay in mine, or I’d watch TV, or whatever; but sometimes I’d come up with some excuse to knock on her door and bug her. I was just trying to get her to pay attention to me. Usually, she’d just want to do her homework or something; but sometimes at least she’d be up for playing some game or watching TV with me. Sometimes we’d even make sandwiches together. When she did spend time with me, I was so thrilled that I would do anything she wanted me to.
Anyway, at one point we were watching TV and, sort of out of the blue, she asked me if I wanted to play a game of truth-or-dare. Of course I agreed. At first we kept choosing truth and she just asked questions like: did I like any girls in my class? I didn’t know what to ask her, so I more-or-less just bounced the same questions back to her. I was pretty lame at this game, to be honest, but I was thrilled just because she was talking to me and we were actually kind of finding out about each other’s lives a little.
I didn’t want her to stop, so I was never the first to ask anything really personal; but she kept escalating the questions, and eventually she asked me if I liked to touch myself “down there.” Of course I acted embarrassed and didn’t answer, so she made me do a dare, which was to pull down my pants briefly. I voiced a token protest, but eventually flashed her as she stared avidly. I couldn’t help being flattered by the fact that my sister was actually *interested* in seeing me expose myself, so I kept choosing dares after that, and she kept upping the ante. I had to take off all my clothes, I had to go with her to the bathroom and pee in front of her, I had to let her examine me closely for as long as she wanted, and so on. At some point I’d stopped asking *her* questions (and she didn’t volunteer to do a dare), but I didn’t mind — I was so caught up in the knowledge that she really *wanted* to see me naked. I’d never imagined I’d get this much of my sister’s undivided attention!
All that really happened that night was that I pranced around naked for her, but of course we repeated the next time our parents left us alone, and the next time after that, and it quickly became a habit. I loved that my sister was finally engaging with me and looked forward to these occasions. Pretty soon, even though she’d still ask me if I wanted to play truth or dare, we didn’t really bother with the game; she’d simply ask me to do stuff. It kept escalating: get undressed, bend over and show her my butt, let her look as closely as she wanted at my boner, touch myself in front of her, let her touch my penis, let her put her finger in my butt, stuff like that. I sometimes pretended to be reluctant, but secretly I didn’t mind her interest at all and I always gave in eventually.
Then, after a while, she started asking me to touch her, which, weirdly, I was kind of grossed out by at first. I mean it’s weird that I didn’t mind her looking at me and touching me, but when she wanted *me* to touch *her* down there I wasn’t too enthusiastic. I guess I was kind of scared; I had no idea what it would be like, but she pulled down her pants and there was this big hairy glistening slightly red swollen… place that I just couldn’t make head or tail of. I had had no experience whatsoever with female genitalia; no idea of what to expect. I was very hesitant to touch it at first, but she grabbed my hand and made me, and of course it wasn’t so bad at all, warm and wet, and most importantly: she obviously *liked* it when I touched her there. She was breathing hard and making little noises as I felt around. Eventually she got impatient and pushed my hand away and masturbated, right there on the bed, right in front of me, as I watched transfixed with curiosity. After she came — it didn’t take very long — the game was over for the night. I went to bed confusedly excited, smelling her strong scent on my fingers, and touched myself, thinking about what had happened, not entirely sure what I was doing.
A few nights later, my sister came up with a very specific game: I was going to be a baby and she would clean me and feed me and stuff. She even made some excuse about how it was practice that she needs for when she being a mother in the future. Of course I knew that was bullshit, but I didn’t mind playing along. I drew the line at actually wetting myself (I don’t think I could have even if I’d wanted to), but we pretended that I had, and that my underwear was really a diaper, and she pulled it down and rubbed my crotch with a washcloth, feeling me all over. The sensations were unexpectedly pleasurable, much more intense than when I touched myself, and I nearly had to push her hands away, it was so intense.
The next thing she came up with was that she had to “feed” me. At first I naïvely imagined this would entail making me eat something and pretend it was baby food or something. Of course, what she actually wanted to do was pretend to feed me from her breast. I guess she’d had ample occasion when I was a baby to observe and be curious about our mother breastfeeding me. Here again, I was very reluctant at first — I don’t know why exactly — but eventually I gave in. She took off her top, and I saw her topless for the first time. Hers were really the first breasts I’d ever seen close up (I don’t remember my mother feeding me, of course). They weren’t as scary as her genitalia had been. They were small but prominent; kind of inviting really. I guess that’s just the way we’re all programmed. My sister’s always been on the chubby side and her belly seemed soft and inviting, so I just nestled in and instinctively took a nipple into my mouth and began to suck on it.
There was no milk obviously, but her nipple got hard and felt nice in my mouth, and I played around with my tongue and she stroked my hair. It really felt incredibly nice. After a while, she began to fondle me down there while I continued to suckle, and eventually I had an orgasm. I had been touching myself for years and was no stranger to the pulsing good feeling that would result, but this was a whole new level; my whole body felt electrified. I had to force her hand away afterwards, as the stimulation became unbearable. Confused, I ended up getting up and running out of the room. My sister didn’t follow me.
I felt weird and embarrassed after this episode, but inevitably it happened again — the very next time our parents were out. My sister didn’t really even have to ask this time, just sort of vaguely alluded to the baby game and in a minute I was naked and suckling again while she fondled me. This time, after I had an orgasm, I didn’t run away; I again moved her hand away so she’d stop touching my now unbearably sensitive genitals, but I kept sucking and licking her breast. Soon, she pulled down her bottoms; I was afraid she was going to ask me to touch her again, but instead she began masturbating vigorously, so I just kept suckling. I could smell her scent, wafting up from her crotch. It was strong, almost overpowering at time, but not unpleasant. Eventually she began to moan, really loudly (I was irrationally afraid someone would hear, though the house was empty). Then she stiffened and shook a few times, and it was over. Oh, we exchanged a few embarrassed words, but I knew it was time to go back to my room.
The pattern was set for a long time afterwards. Whenever we were left alone, she’d initiate the “baby game” (I never did). Most of the time, unlike the first occasion, we left out the part about pretending that I wore diapers, although once she did persuade me to climb into the bathtub and pee my in my underwear — I found it very hard to get over my natural inhibition to do this and I felt gross and uncomfortable afterwards, though I enjoyed my sister cleaning me with a washcloth. We didn’t do that again, though. Generally, without much preamble, I’d simply undress in front of her. Then she’d take off her top, revealing her belly and breasts. I’d lie down and suck her breasts while she fondled me; I’d have an orgasm, then she’d masturbate while I continued to suckle. I understood she was basically using me, but I was happy to be an object of interest for her and of course I absolutely enjoyed it physically.
She kept trying to get me to touch her down there, but at first I didn’t really comply; it wasn’t so much that I was scared any more, but just worried that I wouldn’t be able to touch her expertly enough for it to feel good. However, as time went on she got more and more insistent about it. Eventually she persuaded me to touch her, gingerly. That’s when things began to get a little rougher. I’d start masturbating her, and she’d get up on her knees and try to rub herself, hard, against my hand. It still wasn’t really doing the job for her, and she’d always end up pushing me away with a sigh, which made me feel bad. After a while, she started asking me to put my penis in her. I was petrified. I didn’t know much, but I knew that wasn’t a good idea, and I always demurred.
One night, though, she just grabbed me — we were both completely naked at this point — and started wrestling with me, laughing hard. I kind of mock-defended myself, but given the age difference, and especially that she was a pretty big, husky girl anyway, she didn’t have any trouble pinning me down. She was breathing hard as she did so, and suddenly I could tell this wasn’t just a wrestling game. I struggled a bit to get away, but she basically planted her crotch over mine and began to grind against me. I was a bit scared, but also excited. I’ll never forget the look on her face: she was basically out of control, her little breasts hanging down and swinging as she moved back and forth, her belly obscuring what was going on down there. I could feel her wetness in my crotch, could smell her excitement, and could hear the squishy noises as she ground against me.
It wasn’t really intercourse in the typical sense; even fully erect, I wasn’t big enough at that age to penetrate her properly. She was basically forcing herself on me, taking advantage of my relatively puny size and my hardness, and I was completely unable to resist but also didn’t *want* to be able to resist, if that makes any sense. I would never ever have agreed to what we were doing of my own accord, but because I couldn’t fend her off, I allowed myself to just experience it. It seemed to take forever but eventually she suddenly stopped grinding, groaned and squeezed me between her thighs. Then she rolled off. I didn’t have an orgasm myself, and she didn’t make any moves that indicated that I was going to get one; she was basically lying there, naked, breathing hard with her eyes closed. I forget what I said, but I snuck off and had very, very, very confusing dreams that night.
The next time our parents left us alone, my sister just stayed in her room with the door closed. After a few hours elapsed I was disappointed and agitated. Eventually I dared to knock on her door and she let me in. We sat around, embarrassed, not really knowing what to say. I guess I kind of enjoyed that I had the power to discomfit my older sister so much! But at some point, as the tension grew unbearable, I finally blurted out that I thought we should have a rematch of wrestling; I’d surely beat her this time. She looked… relieved, I think. We ended up on her bed, just play-wrestling for a while — we were both in our pajamas — and of course she kept pinning me, or I let her, wanting an excuse for what had happened last time to happen again. And it did; she began to get excited, and she felt for my boner under my PJs, and then the PJs came off and we ended up just like before, with her on top of me, basically forcing herself against me until she came. This time when she was done I kind of kept her from rolling off of me and she rubbed her thigh absently back and forth on my erection until I came too.
We didn’t talk about it, but after that it was easier. It just became the thing we did; she’d overpower me and I’d let her, and she’d use me to orgasm, and after a while I actually got pretty good at just coming at roughly the same time as she did. We didn’t always do the same thing. Once she got the notion that she really, really wanted me to lick her down there. She sat down with her legs spread on the edge of the bed and told me to kneel down. Honestly I was kind of excited to try this, but I felt like I had to pretend that I didn’t want to and she’d have to force me. I was sitting up against the wall next to the bed at the time, and she got back onto the bed, on her hands and knees, facing away from me. Basically, she just thrusted her big butt up against my face, initially pretending it was a joke, like she was going to defeat my resistance with the smell of her butthole or something. But with her big, hairy vulva right up against my nose and mouth, I needed little more than her musk to get me excited, and I began, instinctively, to lick. She pushed herself back against me, and of course that was a bit unnerving – I thought for a moment I might suffocate – but the fact was, I absolutely loved it. It tasted good and I could feel every bit of her excitement, and of course the element of always feeling like she was sort of forcing herself on to me allowed me to give up responsibility, to not have to admit to myself that I liked it. I had no choice! That first time, after a lot of licking, we ended up again with her on top and grinding my crotch; but on other occasions, I did make her come with my tongue, almost always in that same position, where I could feel like I had no choice but to do what she wanted me to.
This went on for a couple of years, during which time I began to mature physically. I got hair down there, and my penis got big enough that when she got on top of me, I’d actually enter her. She’d rock back and forth on top of me, and it no longer felt like just being rubbed, but more like being enveloped in her heavy wetness. I wasn’t yet ejaculating, but my orgasms had taken on a deeper, more… solid sense, as if to hint that there was more soon to come. It was one of the most satisfying times of my life, feeling I was on the cusp of adolescence and would soon experience pleasure exceeding even what I already knew.
Then my sister left for university. I was adrift – our sex play, if it can be called that, had become such a part of my life that I didn’t know what to do with myself without it. It took me a long time to recover. Eventually, I kind of got ahold of myself and learned to relate to girls my own age. Naturally, at first I kept looking for big girls who could overpower me, and I didn’t find them – first of all, I’d had a growth spurt myself, and was a pretty strong lad by that point, and second of all, the girls I knew in school were much more interested in behaving demure and shy and having *me* boss them around. Nor was sex quite a thing at that age, though it was more for lack of opportunity than lack of interest — though tentative dating had begun, girls didn’t generally have that much unsupervised time with boys.
Of course my sister would come back to visit periodically, on her break and so on. She would comment on how grown up I was getting and… it felt terrible. I wanted her to treat me like a baby again, to hold me, to overpower me; but realistically speaking, we couldn’t pretend that I was little anymore. If we *did* “wrestle,” I’d win now, and so of course we didn’t. In fact, on the first few occasions she came back, we didn’t do *anything*. Eventually — she was already in her second year — we had a talk, and to my great shock my sister apologized for what she said was wrong, abuse, something she was deeply ashamed about. She was seeing a psychologist at the university about it, she felt so guilty.
I didn’t know what to say. I understood intellectually that, at least at the beginning, she had taken advantage of my being so much younger, but ultimately I felt we were on more equal footing now, and I didn’t blame her for anything, so what was there to be guilty about? We ended up cuddling, and in the end, inevitably, she pulled off her top and, feeling a bit ridiculous (I really was much bigger and taller now), I laid my head on her belly — she’d gained a fair amount of weight at school, and it was soft and comfortable — and greedily sucked on her breast. She reached down for my erection, making some comment about how big it was, and then I shifted a little and put my hand down her pants. We ended up just masturbating each other to a gentle, simultaneous orgasm. It was nice, not frenzied at all; we had to stay quiet as our parents were home. I had started to ejaculate while she was away, and mumbled to warn her, but she didn’t stop. When I came, it got all over her big hands, and she giggled and kissed the top of my head. I felt loved and secure in her embrace.
After that, whenever my sister was home on break, we always masturbated each other like that. We didn’t have intercourse again. Perhaps it would have been foolhardy now that I was capable of impregnating her, but I also think it was easier for her to accept mutual masturbation and not feel guilty about it, because it was clearly unforced, both of us sitting next to each other, fondling each other. But I definitely missed the sense of being overpowered. Who knows, maybe she also missed the feeling of overpowering me? If so, she never brought it up, never suggested we do anything else. Neither did I.
A couple of years after she graduated, and was working in the same city as her school had been, she met a guy and brought him home with her on her next visit. I had to laugh, knowingly; he was… little. Like, no taller than her, and probably half her weight. She’d gained a lot at university, as I said before. It didn’t bother me: she was still my big sister and I loved her, and I still enjoyed cuddling and masturbating with her (we did it surreptitiously one night, in my room, while her boyfriend was asleep in the guest bedroom); but I was finding myself more attracted to big, tall, thick, but not necessarily fat women. I had a girlfriend myself at school by then, the tallest in the class.
That relationship didn’t last, but in my first year at university — who would have guessed? — I found myself a 6’3″ beauty, a little taller than me, definitely heavier than me — she carried it well. She instinctively understood my need to be “overpowered” — it wasn’t exactly a dominant/submissive relationship as I understand it (I may not, it’s not my kink); there was no real element of humiliation or coercion. I needed a girl who could physically pin me down the way my sister had back then, have her way with me, ride me and force her vagina onto my erection, enveloping me in her lust. She could Most importantly, she loved me, with all my warts, and I loved her.
We didn’t keep secrets, and I told her about my sister — not in the detail I’ve described here, of course, but that she had made me do “stuff” when I was younger and I’d liked it. My new girlfriend wasn’t shocked or horrified – she was an only child, but she’d played around with her friends and cousins, she didn’t think there was anything wrong with what we’d done — so on and so on. And after I told her my history, we had frenzied, explosive sex, with her holding me down and riding me and sitting on my face and all the wonderful stuff like that, and everything was OK.
My sister got married. To the “shrimp,” as I thought of him — in private only — he was really a great guy, and perfect for her, but I always had that little inward giggle when I saw him. Shrimp or not, he knocked her up pretty quickly. They moved temporarily back to our parents’s house, thinking they might settle nearby; this time it was I who was visited on university break. And so it was that I found myself alone with my sister (the shrimp was out house-hunting, our parents were somewhere or other, I don’t know) for the first time in a long time. She was already getting pretty big, above and beyond her already hefty weight. I made some comment about how her formerly quite small boobs had at least doubled in size. She joked about needing to start practicing breastfeeding. One thing led to another, and she ended up shedding her top, revealing newly thick, brown nipples on slightly distended breasts resting placidly on her round belly. I found it tremendously arousing, and with no further joking around, she sat on her bed, laying back, and I leaned in and slipped one of the nipples into my mouth.
She uttered contented little sighs as I sucked, stroking my hair, and after a while, with a small gasp, she let down a littlte some milk. It excited both of us, and soon she was frantically trying to tear my clothes off me. I paused for a minute to get undressed, then lay down. She clambered on top of me, and we had full-on sex for the first time since I’d sexually matured: her leaning back riding me, my view obstructed by her huge belly, my penis straining into her pregnant vagina. It was all so different from years before when she had ground against my small hardness to get herself off. This time I was deep in her, and when my semen rose, knowing it could do no harm, I let loose deep into her. She groaned with me and, orgasming shortly thereafter, surprised me by gushing hot liquid all over my belly: the first time I had ever experienced that. She apologized, explaining that, since she had begun to grow big, she had often had such “wet” orgasms as she called them — apparently something to do with extra pressure on the bladder. It didn’t bother me at all and I told her so.
The whole experience had been, to be honest, incredible; and of course we both felt terribly guilty afterwards. I am fairly certain my sister did not tell her husband. But I told my girlfriend as soon as I got back to the university, bracing for the worst, only to find that it turned her on hugely. She wanted all the details, then wrestled me down to the bed and rode me, moaning, as the climactic moment came, “come, come, come into your big sister!” I groaned and pumped my semen into her (she was on birth control), loving her and thinking of my real sister at the same time. After that, it was not uncommon for us to role-play in that way, with her pretending to be the big sister and me the little brother. It never got old, and seemed to turn her on as much as it did me. She often teased me about how I’d no doubt love to fuck my actual sister again. I never admitted it, but of course I though about it.
A year or so later, I took her home to meet my parents, and afterwards we all flew out to visit my sister, the Shrimp, and the baby (they had ultimately decided to move back to the university town, feeling it would be less expensive to raise a kid there). I was terribly apprehensive about my sister and girlfriend finally meeting, but I needn’t have worried; they got along famously, almost as if they were sisters myself. My first sight of the two of them together, my stunning Valkyrie of a girlfriend towering over my comparatively short, plump sister (they probably weighed the same despite probably a half a foot difference in height), I sprung an involuntary erection and had to sit down lest my parents and the Shrimp notice. Nothing untoward happened on that visit, of course.
I proposed to the Valkyrie, of course, soon as I felt I could. How could I not, when we were so perfect for each other? We were just out of school, and she insisted on having my sister as the bridesmaid. Not really having any close male friends, I asked the Shrimp to be my best man — it seemed a bit unconventional, especially as I didn’t really know him all that well, but we got closer together during the wedding preparations. Naturally I never let on anything about what had happened between me and my sister. As we got friendly enough to joke around, though, his occasional, somewhat tentative jokes about how stunning my fiancée was — as well as the fact that I frequently caught him staring at her — led me to realize that he was very attracted to her. I didn’t mind. After all, I’d had sex with *his* wife! In fact I began to fantasize about all the various things that could possibly happen if we were all suitably disinhibited. Of course I had no delusions that this would be a good idea, nor did I have any intentions to pursue it. But as the wedding approached (especially as I was sometimes alone, my fiancée making frequent visits to *her* parents to get prepared) I often masturbated before going to sleep to various scenarios, groaning and soiling my sheets as I thought of, say, my sister riding me and my wife-to-be riding the Shrimp, who, I imagined, would almost disappear under her.
Nothing happened before the wedding, of course. But we went to Hawaii for our honeymoon, and two weeks later, flying back, stopped to visit my sister and the Shrimp for a few days on the way back, since the flight went through San Francisco. They had a really nice house in Oakland (this was long before the whole Bay Area became unaffordable), and they had a hot tub, and, as they let slip the second day, some pot, which neither I nor my wife had ever smoked before. (More innocent times.) From the moment we’d arrived, it had all seemed pre-ordained. The air was so close with sexual tension, at least after their toddler had gone to bed, I imagined I could almost smell it. Perhaps I could, some pheromones or something; I’ve always had a good nose.
The first night we were too tired for anything to happen, but we all spent the second day, as we toured San Francisco, in a pleasant state of anticipation. All the day’s excitement wore my little nephew out, and my sister put him to bed even before the sun set. After that it didn’t take more than a little wine and a few tokes before we were all laughing, and then heading for the hot tub. There was perhaps a moment of indecision — bathing suits? Underwear? — but my wife, as she always did, decisively took the lead, stripping naked on the redwood deck as the Shrimp stared. My sister followed suit, then, looking at each other, so did the Shrimp and I. I noticed with mild surprise that his “equipment” wasn’t exactly proportional with the rest of him. It looked as long as mine, though I couldn’t be sure as he was only half erect. Perhaps it was even a bit thicker. I was too busy trying to hide my full-on erection to pay much attention. The girls were already in the big wooden tub. My head was spinning with the wine and the unfamiliar sensation of being stoned, and I nearly stumbled as I clambered in. My sister caught me and steadied me; I almost sat next to her, but realized in time and plopped down next to my wife. The Shrimp negotiated getting in better, and sat down with his arm around my sister, hand casually draped over her breast.
Hot tubs, at least they kind they had, are actually… really hot. Literally. It turned out to be surprisingly hard to stay excited; the heat sort of saps your sexual energy. The buzzed, aroused feeling that I and, I assume, the other had been feeling was replaced with a kind of languid, unhurried feeling of well-being, no doubt helped along by the alcohol and the weed. I wanted to be turned on by finally seeing my wife and my sister sitting naked right next to each other, but I couldn’t really concentrate on the sexy aspects of it; instead I was just feeling a wonderful sense of brotherly love for the both of them, and, hell, for the Shrimp too. We talked about inconsequential things, joked around, relaxed, giggled, and I thought I’d never been so happy in my life. When we finally got out, exhausted from the long, hot soak, not to mention the busy day, and dried ourselves off with huge, fluffy towels, he sexual tension seemed to have dissipated without anything happening. But after we’d walked through the dark house to stark naked, trying to be quiet so as not to wake the kid, we paused for a moment in front of the master bedroom and the guest bedroom right next to it. Seemingly acting from the same impulse, I hugged my sister close, feeling her nipples against my chest, as I watched the Shrimp do the same with my wife. His face was buried in her breasts; perhaps in another situation it would have been comical, but I felt only love and tenderness towards him at that moment. We all held the hugs just a little longer than necessary, and when we let go, I could see the Shrimp was half-hard again; I was too. Then we said goodnight and entered our respective bedrooms.
I hadn’t realized how exhausted I was; it felt like I lost consciousness almost as soon as I tumbled, naked, into the big, comfortable bed. But an indeterminate amount of time later, I awoke to my wife nuzzling up against me. I mumbled something, and her attention became more urgent. “Wake up!” she said, in a low, tense voice. My eyes snapped open; my heart started pounding. “I stopped taking the pill last month. Let’s fuck.” It took me a second to process this, but before it even really registered, I was hard. I turned towards her, and she rolled me back onto my back and climbed onto me. She was wet, panting; she’d been masturbating before I woke up. She reached down, grabbed my erection, and guided it into herself. I groaned, strained up against her weight. “Did you like seeing your sister naked tonight? Did you? Oh, you did, didn’t you! She’s so big, so beautiful! Aren’t you jealous of [she named the Shrimp]? Just think of her on top of him, his cock inside her, making a baby!” I moaned involuntarily. “Oh baby, yes! Push your cock into your big sister! Make a baby with your big sister!” Straddling me, her torso seeming to tower above, her breasts jutting out, she presented a very different picture from my actual sister, but it didn’t matter; I was turned on beyond belief by the words alone. I played along, as I had in the past: “Oh, sis, we shouldn’t! Mom and dad will kill us if you get pregnant!” “You know she wants you,” she said, “she wants to fuck you, she wants your baby.” I couldn’t tell if she meant herself or my sister. “Fuuuccccck her!,” she growled. She was fucking me, violently; I was ridiculously turned on, but finding it hard to center myself into an orgasm. Perhaps it was the residual effects of the weed. “Come into our sister….” she said, and I tried, but couldn’t quite. Then, as she launched into her orgasm, she said it — something she’d never said before. She named my sister. “Come.. coommmmee.. commmmeee into [sister’s name]!” “Oh, fuck me, [sisters name]!” I cried, and it all came together, and I had the strongest orgasm I’d ever had in my life, pumping my semen straight up into my Valkyrie wife as her vagina contracted in waves around my penis.
After it was all over, she rolled off, and lay on her back. I was embarrassed, didn’t know what to say, and thought she was too, but after a while she giggled and said, “who knows, maybe I will get pregnant if I lie on my back and let it soak in!” I wasn’t sure how likely that was just a month after she got off the pill, but didn’t say anything. We lay, contented, next to each other, and eventually fell asleep. The last thought I had before I slipped out of consciousness was: *I hope that my sister and the Shrimp, in the room right next door, didn’t hear any of that.*
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/sv8cpr/my_older_sister_made_me_do_stuff_and_i_liked_it
Wow, not a single comment or upvote? Guess no point in continuing this one…