I walked in on my brother stroking his huge cock in the living room. He was twenty-five, I was twenty-three, both of us home for the weekend after years living apart. The sight froze me in the doorway. His fist barely wrapped around the thick shaft, veins bulging, the head shiny and fat. He didn’t stop right away. He looked straight at me and kept pumping.
“Close the door, sis,” he said, voice low and rough.
I did. My pussy was already throbbing. We had always flirted, always pushed the line, but this was the first time the line actually broke. I crossed the room, dropped to my knees between his spread legs, and wrapped both hands around that massive dick. It was hot, heavy, and so fucking big my fingers didn’t meet.
“Jesus, you’re huge,” I whispered, then licked the head, tasting the salty drop leaking from the slit.
He groaned and pushed forward. I opened my mouth wide and took as much as I could. My lips stretched tight around the crown. I gagged when it hit the back of my throat but kept going, drooling down the shaft, working the rest with my hands. He grabbed my hair and fucked my face in short, dirty thrusts.
“Fuck, your mouth feels good,” he growled. “Suck your brother’s big cock.”
I moaned around him and reached down to rub my clit through my shorts. They were soaked. I pulled them off without letting go of his dick and climbed onto the couch, straddling him. The fat head nudged my entrance. I was dripping but still had to work it in slow. Inch by inch that thick cock stretched my pussy open until I was sitting flush on his lap, completely full.
We didn’t talk much after that. Just raw grunts and the wet sound of my cunt sliding up and down his shaft. He held my hips and slammed up into me, hitting deep every time. My tits bounced in his face and he sucked on my nipples hard enough to leave marks.
I came first, shaking and clenching around him. He flipped me onto my back on the couch, hooked my legs over his shoulders, and fucked me even harder. The slap of skin and the squelch of my soaked pussy filled the room. When he was close he pulled out, stroked that big cock twice, and painted my stomach and tits with thick ropes of cum.
We didn’t stop there. Later that night I rode him again in his bed, this time facing away so he could watch my ass bounce on his cock. He fingered my asshole while I came, then flipped me over and fucked me from behind until he flooded my pussy.
By morning we had fucked in the shower, against the kitchen counter, and once more on the living room floor. Every time he pushed that massive cock inside me I begged for more. We both knew it was wrong, but the wrongness only made it hotter. We kept going until we were sore and sticky and completely satisfied, already planning the next time we’d be alone.
That weekend turned into a regular thing whenever we were both home. No one else knew. We just kept it raw, dirty, and between us.
