I had just turned twenty-two and my sister Emma was twenty when it finally happened. We had always been close, but living together in that tiny apartment after our parents moved away made everything tense and electric.
One humid summer night we were drinking cheap whiskey on the couch, the TV flickering with some dumb movie neither of us was watching. Emma sat in just an old tank top and panties, her long legs stretched across my lap. Her skin felt hot against my thighs.
“You ever think about how fucked up it is that we’re both still single?” she asked, voice low and a little slurred. She shifted and her foot brushed my crotch. My cock twitched hard inside my shorts. I tried to laugh it off but she didn’t move her foot away. Instead she pressed down a little, feeling the growing bulge.
“Em, stop,” I muttered, but my voice came out rough and she knew I didn’t mean it. She smiled that slow, dirty smile and slid closer until she was straddling one of my thighs. Her panties were already damp; I could feel the heat through the thin cotton.
“Make me,” she whispered.
I grabbed her hips and pulled her fully onto my lap. Our mouths crashed together, tongues sliding wet and desperate. She tasted like whiskey and something sweeter. My hands shoved under her tank top, squeezing her full tits, thumbs rubbing her stiff nipples until she moaned into my mouth. She ground her pussy against my cock through our clothes, rocking hard.
“Fuck, you’re already so hard for your sister,” she breathed, reaching down to yank my shorts open. My cock sprang free, thick and leaking at the tip. Emma wrapped her fingers around it and stroked once, slow and tight, spreading the precum down the shaft. “I’ve wanted to suck this for years.”
She slid off my lap and onto her knees between my legs. Her mouth opened wide and she took the head in, tongue swirling around the crown before she sank down, taking half my length in one wet glide. I groaned and fisted her hair, pushing deeper until I felt the back of her throat. She gagged but didn’t pull off; she just sucked harder, spit running down my balls while her hand worked the base.
I pulled her up after a minute, needing more. “Get those fucking panties off.” She stood and peeled them down, revealing a shaved, glistening pussy. I pushed her back onto the couch, spread her thighs, and buried my face between them. She was sweet and slick, clit swollen under my tongue. I licked her from asshole to clit in long, filthy strokes, then sucked that little nub while two fingers pushed inside her tight cunt. Emma bucked and cursed, thighs clamping around my head as she came hard, flooding my mouth.
“Fuck me,” she begged, voice shaking. “I want my brother’s cock inside me right now.”
I flipped her onto her stomach, yanked her hips up, and lined up. The first push was slow; her pussy gripped every inch like it was made for me. Once I was buried balls-deep I started fucking her hard, skin slapping, the wet sounds of her cunt loud in the room. She pushed back to meet every thrust, moaning “yes, fuck your sister, harder.” I reached under and rubbed her clit in fast circles until she came again, pussy pulsing around my cock.
I didn’t last long after that. I pulled out at the last second, stroked twice, and painted thick ropes of cum across her ass and lower back. Emma reached back and rubbed it into her skin, then licked her fingers clean while looking at me over her shoulder.
We didn’t talk much after. We just cleaned up, went to her bed, and fucked twice more before morning—once with her riding me slow and deep, once with her face down and ass up while I pounded her from behind. By sunrise we were sore, sticky, and already planning how we’d do it again the next night.
That first time didn’t feel wrong. It felt inevitable, raw, and exactly what we both needed.
