We were both adults, me twenty-two and my sister Lena twenty-one, living back home for the summer like nothing had changed. The house was empty that night. Mom and Dad were at the lake house for the weekend. Lena came out of the shower with a towel barely covering her ass, water still dripping down her thighs. I was on the couch pretending to watch TV, cock already half-hard from the way she looked at me.
"Fuck this," she said, dropping the towel right there in the living room. "I'm tired of acting like I don't see you staring."
Her tits were full and heavy, nipples dark and tight. She had a neat strip of dark hair above her pussy. I stood up, grabbed her by the waist, and shoved my tongue into her mouth. She tasted like mint and heat. My hands went straight to her ass, spreading her cheeks while she ground against the bulge in my shorts.
We didn't make it to the bedroom. I pushed her onto the couch, yanked my shorts down, and fed her my cock. She took it deep, gagging but not stopping, spit running down her chin as she looked up at me with those big eyes. "That's it, big brother," she mumbled around the shaft. "Use my mouth like you always wanted."
I fucked her throat until my balls were tight and aching. Then I flipped her over, ass up, and slammed into her from behind. She was soaking wet, tight as hell, and she pushed back hard, moaning loud enough to echo off the walls. "Deeper," she begged. "Fuck your sister deeper. Fill that pussy."
I pounded her until the couch creaked. Her cunt clenched around me every time I bottomed out. I reached under and rubbed her clit in rough circles while I drove into her. She came first, shaking and cursing, pussy pulsing so hard it almost pushed me out. I didn't stop. I kept thrusting through it, slapping her ass red, telling her what a dirty incest slut she was for taking her brother's cock.
We switched positions. She climbed on top, sank down on me, and rode like she was trying to break me.
Her tits bounced in my face. I sucked one nipple hard while she ground her clit against me. "Tell me you love it," she panted. "Tell me you love fucking your own sister."
"I love it," I growled. "I love this tight wet cunt. Been wanting to wreck it for years."
She came again, harder, nails digging into my chest. I flipped her onto her back, hooked her legs over my shoulders, and fucked her deep and mean until I was right on the edge. She reached down and spread her pussy lips wider for me. "Come inside me," she said. "Pump that load into your sister's pussy."
I buried myself to the hilt and unloaded, thick ropes of cum flooding her while she milked every drop. We stayed locked together, breathing hard, sweat-slicked skin sliding. After a minute she started moving again, slow rolls of her hips, keeping me hard inside her.
Round two happened on the kitchen table. I bent her over it and took her ass this time, working lube and spit until she could take every inch. She pushed back and begged for more, filthy words spilling out nonstop. "Harder, fuck my ass, make me your family whore."
We didn't sleep much that night. Every room got used. The shower, the laundry room, even the floor in the hallway. By morning we were sore, marked with bites and handprints, and already planning how we'd keep sneaking it when the rest of the family came home.
She kissed me before we showered again, slow and almost sweet. "This is just the start," she whispered. "We're not stopping."
I knew she was right. Once you cross that line with family, there's no going back. And neither of us wanted to.
