My Older Sister

When I was 13 and in the throes of that which vexes all boys of the age (the inability to see anything vaguely boob shaped without immediately hardening up and having to run to the nearest portajohn to rub one out) I had a very attractive older sister. She was 4 years older than me, and had an early birthday so she was one of the oldest in her grade but still relatively close to me in grades since I had a late birthday. Anyway, we had a good relationship, like I was the typical annoying younger brother and she was the hot older sister who would prance around in a bra and panties and “accidently” leave the door open in the bathroom while showering and changing and I would be left longing and drooling and diving into her hamper to bath in her dirty underwear and she knew how I felt because she would wink and laugh and joke around and it was all very non-serious so it wasn’t really fucked up. Well, she worked at a popular fast food restaurant (name withheld because they’re region specific) in the kitchen, doing beautiful things with cooking oil and greasy meat. I still to this day remember her radiance when she’d come home reeking of sweat and grease and tear off her uniform in the living room while jumping in joy at her shift being over, her teenaged boobs bouncing joyfully while I shift a throw pillow over my crotch to shield my 4-inch boner.

One day, I got a phone call from my mom that my sister had been hurt at work and she was in the hospital. She had been pretty badly burnt on her forearms and hands at work, and would be at home for a few weeks to recover, since she was all taped up like a mummy from the elbows down. So I became my sister’s helper in a way. I would get stuff for her, keep her entertained, scratch her itches, all the normal stuff. After two days, she turned to me with tears in her eyes:

“I really have to shit but I can’t wipe myself… I just can’t get a grip on the paper… can you do it for me? Be the best brother ever?”

My eyes glazed over and I’m sure my jaw slackened a bit.

“I… uh… yeah, that’s pretty gross, I guess, but I’d do it for you.”

She grinned and stood up.

“I knew you would do it. Now help me get my pants off.”

There was no hiding my gigantic boner. It was the most intimate thing I’ve ever experienced in my entire life. I unbuttoned her jeans and tugged them down, exposing a blue lacy thong that hugged the contours of her voluptuous ass. She walked over to the toilet.

“Now the thong please. Oh thanks you are the best brother ever!”

Now, if she noticed my hand lingering a little longer than it needed to over her soft pubic mount, she didn’t say anything, and i noticed her breathing speed up as well. She sat down.

Her bowel movement can only be described as the sound of angel’s trumpets announcing glorious news. The timbre of her resonating asshole, the stench of her earthy waste, the splatter and the thumps, all come together in a majestic cacophony of ecstasy. At this point, I had my hand in my pants and I was inhaling deeply, gasping at the air like a drowning man. I wanted her essence inside of me.

The moment lasted forever and it lasted 30 seconds. I was so excited that what happened next is only recalled in a series of flashbacks. My hand, clutching a wad of pearly white paper, slowly and intimately massaging her asshole. Getting up close for observation. Maximum cleanliness. The glory of love, desire, passion, and need. Gentle strokes from pussy to ass. Hair as fine and beautiful as silk. The eradication of earthen brown from her salmon colored asshole. Incalculable pleasure.

And just as quickly as it happened, it was over. She giggled, had me pull her clothes up, and led me, gauze-wrapped hand in mine ignoring the pain, back into the living room, where we turned on “Family Matters” and laughed at Urkel’s shenanigans.

Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/i20wy4/my_older_sister