I never planned on fucking my sister. But when I came back to our family home in Quezon City after five years in the States, everything changed the night our parents went to a wedding in the province and left us alone.
Isabel was twenty-three, all curves and long black hair, the kind of Filipino girl who turned heads in her tight tank tops and short shorts. I was twenty-six, and the moment she opened the door in nothing but a thin white shirt and panties, my cock twitched. She hugged me tight, her full tits pressing against my chest, and whispered, "Kuya, I've missed you so much."
We drank San Miguel beer on the couch, talking about old times. The air got thick. She kept crossing and uncrossing her legs, flashing the damp spot on her panties. "You've grown up," she said, staring at the bulge in my jeans. "So has this." Her hand brushed my thigh, then stayed there.
I grabbed her wrist. "Isabel, what the fuck are you doing?"
She smiled, dirty and direct. "I'm horny, kuya. I've been thinking about your cock since I was eighteen. Mom and Dad are gone. No one has to know."
That was all it took.
I pulled her onto my lap and kissed her hard, tongue deep in her mouth. She ground her pussy against my jeans, soaking the denim. My hands went under her shirt, squeezing her heavy tits, pinching her dark nipples until she moaned. "Suck them," she begged.
I yanked the shirt off and latched onto one nipple, biting just hard enough to make her gasp. She reached down, unzipped me, and pulled my thick cock out. "Fuck, it's bigger than I imagined." Her fingers wrapped around it, stroking slow and firm, thumb smearing the precum.
She slid off my lap, dropped to her knees, and took me in her mouth without hesitation. Wet, sloppy sounds filled the living room as she sucked. Saliva ran down my shaft while she bobbed, gagging when she took me deep. "That's it, ate your brother's cock like a good girl," I growled, holding her head.
Isabel pulled off, strings of spit connecting her lips to my dick. "I want you to fuck me, kuya. Right here." She stood, peeled off her panties, and bent over the arm of the couch, ass up, pussy glistening. Her lips were swollen and pink, already dripping.
I lined up and slammed in deep. She was tight and hot, gripping me like a fist. "Shit, yes!" she cried. I fucked her hard from behind, slapping her ass, watching it jiggle with every thrust. The wet squelch of my cock pounding her cunt echoed off the walls. She reached back and spread herself wider. "Deeper, kuya. Fill your sister's pussy."
I flipped her onto her back on the floor, hooked her legs over my shoulders, and drove in again. Her tits bounced with every stroke. I rubbed her clit with my thumb while I fucked her, feeling her walls flutter. She came first, screaming, pussy clamping down and squirting around my cock.
I didn't stop. I pulled out, flipped her again, and took her ass. She was even tighter there. I worked in slow at first, then pounded her while she fingered her own clit. "Cum in my ass, kuya," she panted. I did, shooting thick ropes deep inside her, groaning her name.
We didn't stop that night. She rode me on the dining table, sucked me clean in the shower, and let me fuck her bent over the kitchen sink while we ate leftovers. By morning we were sore, sticky, and already planning the next time our parents would be gone.
It became our secret. Every visit home turned into raw, filthy sessions. Isabel loved whispering "kuya" while I was balls-deep in her. I loved hearing her beg for my cum in every hole. We never got caught, but the risk only made it hotter.
Years later, when she got married, we still found ways. Some secrets taste too good to quit.
