I never planned on fucking my sister again after that one drunk night in college, but 2023 changed everything. We were both stuck at the family lake house during a brutal winter storm, adults with real jobs and real lives, yet the old rules didn't matter once the power went out.
She walked into the living room wearing nothing but one of my old flannel shirts, buttons open, her tits half out, nipples hard from the cold. "It's freezing in here," she said, voice low and rough. I was already hard just looking at her.
We didn't talk much. She dropped to her knees, yanked my sweats down, and took my cock straight into her mouth like she'd been waiting all year. Her tongue worked the head while her hand pumped the shaft, spit dripping down my balls. I grabbed her hair and fucked her face, watching her eyes water as she gagged but kept taking it deeper.
When I pulled her up she was dripping wet. I bent her over the couch, spread her ass, and slammed into her pussy in one thrust.
She was tight and hot, moaning "fuck me harder, big brother" like the filthy words turned her on even more. I pounded her deep, skin slapping, her juices running down my thighs. Every time I pulled out almost all the way she pushed back, begging for it.
We switched positions all night. She rode me on the floor, grinding her clit against me while I sucked her nipples. I flipped her onto her back, legs over my shoulders, and drilled her until she came screaming, pussy clenching around my cock. Then I flipped her again, spread her cheeks, and pushed into her ass. She took every inch, fingers rubbing her clit while I fucked her hole raw.
By morning we were sore, covered in cum and sweat, but we didn't stop. We kept going in the shower, against the kitchen counter, even quick and dirty on the stairs when the lights flickered back on. No guilt, just raw need. Two adults who knew exactly what they wanted and didn't give a fuck about anything else.
The storm ended, but the hunger didn't. We made plans for the next time the family "got together."
