The house was quiet except for the low hum of the fridge and the wet, rhythmic slap of skin on skin in the upstairs hallway. Jake had his sister pinned against the wall, her legs locked around his waist, her shorts and panties shoved down to one ankle. His cock was buried balls-deep in her tight cunt, thrusting hard and fast like he was trying to fuck the secret deeper inside her.
"Don't stop," Rachel hissed, her nails digging into his shoulders. "Fuck me harder. Mom's gonna be home any minute."
Jake slammed into her again, the sound filthy and loud. "Then shut the fuck up and take it," he growled, gripping her ass with both hands, spreading her wider so he could drive in even deeper. Her pussy was soaked, dripping down his shaft every time he pulled back. "You wanted this. You begged for it."
She moaned into his neck, biting down to muffle the sound. Her brother’s dick felt perfect—thick, hot, stretching her just right. They’d been sneaking around for months, ever since that drunken night after their parents’ anniversary party. Now it was an addiction. Quick, raw fucks in the laundry room, the garage, the hallway like this. Always with the same warning.
Don’t tell Mom.
Jake’s hips snapped faster. He could feel her clenching around him, getting close. “You’re such a dirty little slut for your brother’s cock,” he muttered against her ear. “Bet you’d let me fuck you right on the kitchen table if she walked in.”
Rachel’s breath hitched. Her orgasm hit sudden and sharp, her whole body shaking as she came hard on his dick. Jake didn’t slow down.
He fucked her through it, chasing his own release, until he pulled out at the last second and painted her stomach and the tops of her thighs with thick ropes of cum.
They heard the garage door opening downstairs.
“Shit,” Rachel whispered, scrambling to pull her shorts up. Cum smeared across her skin, soaking into the waistband. Jake tucked himself away, breathing hard, both of them grinning like idiots.
“Later,” he said, voice low. “My room. After she goes to bed.”
Rachel licked her lips, tasting the salt of his sweat. “Don’t tell Mom,” she answered, the familiar phrase slipping out like a promise and a threat at the same time.
They separated just as their mother’s keys jingled in the door. The secret stayed between them—hot, filthy, and theirs alone.
