We had the house to ourselves for the weekend. Mom and Dad were gone, and the second the door shut behind their car, the air between us changed. Sarah walked past me in the kitchen wearing nothing but one of my old T-shirts, the hem barely covering her ass. She grabbed a bottle of water, twisted the cap off, and took a long drink, eyes locked on mine the whole time.
"You keep staring at my legs like that and I'm gonna think you want something," she said, voice low and rough.
I didn't answer with words. I stepped in close, grabbed her hips, and spun her around so her back hit the fridge. My hand went straight under the shirt. No panties. Just hot, smooth skin and the wet heat of her pussy already slick against my fingers.
"Fuck, you're dripping," I growled, shoving two fingers inside her without warning. She gasped and spread her legs wider, grinding down on my hand.
"Been thinking about this all week," she panted. "Every time I touched myself I pictured your cock instead of my fingers."
I yanked the shirt over her head and dropped it on the floor. Her tits were perfect, nipples hard. I sucked one into my mouth while I kept finger-fucking her, thumb rubbing her clit in tight circles. She came fast, legs shaking, juices running down my wrist.
We didn't make it to the bedroom. I bent her over the kitchen table, kicked her feet apart, and freed my cock. One hard thrust and I was buried balls-deep in my sister's tight cunt. She moaned loud and filthy, pushing back to take every inch.
"Harder," she demanded. "Fuck me like you mean it."
I did. I pounded into her, the table creaking under us, skin slapping loud and wet. Her pussy gripped me like it never wanted to let go. I reached around and pinched her clit, making her scream and come again, soaking my balls.
We moved to the couch next. She rode me reverse, ass bouncing, tits swinging while she told me exactly how deep she wanted it. I slapped her ass red and pulled her hair, forcing her to arch and take it even deeper. When I flipped her onto her back and hooked her legs over my shoulders, she begged for my cum.
"Fill your sister's pussy," she said, eyes glassy. "Do it."
I came hard, flooding her with thick ropes while she clenched around me, milking every drop.
We didn't stop there. That night we fucked in the shower, on the floor, against the wall in the hallway. She sucked my cock clean after every round, swallowing like she was starving for it. I ate her out until her thighs trembled and she squirted on my face.
By morning we were sore, covered in sweat and cum, but still hungry. Sarah climbed on top of me again, guiding my cock back inside her used, dripping hole.
"Round five," she whispered against my mouth. "Don't stop until we can't walk."
We didn't. We kept going until the sun came up, raw and filthy and completely lost in each other. When the weekend ended we both knew it wasn't the last time. We were addicted. And neither of us wanted a cure.
