Betsy moved down, her hungry nether mouth searching for that spot again, the hardness she’d been rubbing on. Only this time, my dick had flopped into a different position. So, when my baby sister slid down, my cock wasn’t under her at all.
In case it’s not evident, I was so hard I could have hammered nails and constantly leaking lubricating fluid. My sister’s pussy was slippery, dripping wet. Already open and primed.
My cockhead dipped into her wanting sex. Breached her opening as easy as sliding a greased-up grape into a rain-slicked tube. Almost too effortless. I felt the heat of Betsy’s pussy slowly start to engulf my cock.
“Bets,” I said. A gasp. “It’s going in.”
“Yeah,” my sister said. She lowered herself further. The head all swallowed. Shaft halfway down. Betsy breathing like she was on the last mile of the marathon. Like every gulp of oxygen burned her throat. As if her lungs were about to burst.
Betsy stopped and for a moment I thought the madness had cleared. She lifted up slightly and I felt myself overwhelmed by the deluge of relief and disappointment. My sister caught my eye. Fuck she was gorgeous. I realized I’d rested my hands on her hips and, damn me, I squeezed to keep her in place. My cock having found this wonderful place now unwilling to let it simply slip away.
Betsy held herself up on her hands. Her tits hung down over my chest, sheened with sweat. Her neck muscles ropy tight. Inexorably, she let me lower her back down on my dick. Till I was buried completely in my sister’s wanting cunt.
As soon as we made contact, as we hilted to the farthest point, my beautiful Betsy began to shiver.
“Hurt?” I asked. I knew it was my sister’s first time. I assumed as much, anyway. The smooth slide into her pussy made me wonder if she’d opened that box before, but everything I knew told me I’d taken my sister’s virginity.
Betsy shook her head vigorously. She was feeling no pain. Quite the opposite, in fact.
“Cold?” I asked. She nodded through the tremors.
I couldn’t imagine how. Betsy was wrapped around my body, under heavy covers in a warm house in the middle of a state famous for heat. But still my sister shook something awful. Lips purpling and skin pricking up.
I squeezed Betsy tight, pressing her against me like I was trying to truly merge us into one. She rested her head in the crook of my neck. For a moment, I remembered back to how we would be in a similar spot every time we cuddled. As if this was our position. The way we fit together as one.
But as I held her close, my sister shook me off. She sat up, abruptly. Body trembling. Shiny with sweat and amber from the windowlight. Breasts so perfectly voluptuous. The lips of her vagina spready lewdly over my staff.
Betsy reached back and undid her braid. Brown hair spilled forth. Longer than I’d realized, the ends now practically covering her breasts. She drew the locks back behind her, almost apologetic for obscuring what she had to realize was my favorite sight in the entire universe.
My sister leaned forward, resting her palms on either side of me. She gave me a cocky grin, and I immediately recognized that look. It was the face she made right before the start of a race. The expression she flashed as she passed yet another competitor by.
Betsy raised her curvy butt, luxuriating in the feel of my cock in her pussy, then lowered herself back down. Feeling every ridge and bump in exquisite detail. She stared into my eyes, searching. The confidence overwhelming, only marred by the occasional quirk as she trained her body to tame this new, incomparable invader.
She shook. Shivered. The little hairs on her arms stood up straight. Gritted teeth and wild eyes.
Betsy began moving faster. No longer sliding but bouncing. Pumping up and down on my dick. Hands on my shoulders. Nails digging in. I didn’t feel them till the morning when I noticed the little cuts burning.
I did what I could — grabbed my sister’s hips and held on. Thrusted upwards in time to her own movements. Both of us lost in each other. Connected physically, yes. But emotionally even more.
We weren’t playing around anymore. We weren’t helping each other out or doing ourselves a favor or however we’d rationalized it. I was fucking my sister. Betsy was screwing her brother. Both of us lost in a lusty, incestuous swamp from which we’d never climb out.
Explaining what sex with my sister was like seems futile. It’s a unique experience, unlike anything else. Yes, it has all the appeal and wonder of intercourse. But then added into the mix is all this other emotional stuff, biological connection, that is supposed to blunt the experience. But instead it only twists those things and intensifies them more.
The wrongness doesn’t go away, it makes things even better. The crawling nature of knowing you’re fucking familiar flesh and blood doesn’t dissipate, it only increases every other sensation. You never forget you’re having sex with your sister. And what’s supposed to be the worst part unfortunately only makes it the best.
Like I said, I wasn’t supposed to know what my sister’s pussy smelled like. Felt like. Wasn’t allowed to know what she looked like when she came. But I saw it. I watched it. Memorized every detail.
Betsy hung halfway down on my dick. Her mouth slowly gaping wider and wider. Her eyes, her hips, her pussy all yawning open in the exact same way. The slow build unending till I thought she would never stop.
Suddenly her body snapped closed. All at once. Lightning quick. Betsy’s legs cinched. Her body stilled. Eyes rolled back. Her pussy tightened so much, I swear she was trying to rip my cock off.
A creaking, aching groan flooded out of my sister. Again, I thought of a towel being wrung out. The last juices of pulp forced from an orange. Betsy’s whole body clamped down and eked every drop of ecstasy out of her. It didn’t look like pleasure, but I knew that it was.
“AAAHHhhhhuuuhhhhnnnHHHaaa,” the sound so low and quiet, yet so inescapable my sister might as well have screamed it.
Her face shifted as she bore down. Lips turn to a half frown. Eyes big and wet. Almost supplicant, like she was scared and confused by her need for me. Begging for something more.
Then Betsy fell forward, gasping. Her arms went limp. Whole body like a wet rag. She gasped for air, ragged and pained. Finally, she looked at me and smiled. Kissed me so hard we nearly knocked heads.
“Yeah?” I asked her.
“Oh yeah,” Betsy replied.
Again, I worried we might be done. That the cold reality of my sister’s cum would wash over her and she’d realize what we were doing, and she’d stop. Because that made sense, right? That’s how a rational person would choose to react.
We were doing something truly, epically wrong. Like gulping poison, knowingly, because we were both so desperately thirsty. And yet, once that flood of need was staunched in my sister, it should have led her to call an end to all this.
A good brother might have let her.
Instead, I grabbed my sister around the waist and violently rolled her over. My dick slipped out with the movement, but I grabbed my cock and shoved it right back in.
Betsy groaned as I filled her once again.
“Fuck you feel so good,” I said. Like that made a lick of sense. Seeing my sister’s body had broken my brain, so you can only imagine what feeling it did to me. Not that Betsy was any more coherent.
“Oh fuck yes,” she said, “Like that.”
As much as I liked my sister humping me, I have to say it was even better now that I was able to plow her. The snap of my hips against her backside. Running my hands all over her bare skin. Seeing her writhe beneath me. Knowing that I was doing this to her. Taking her there. It brought me to another level.
Unfortunately, it also brought me to another level. I’d have fucked Betsy like that forever if my body had let me. But there was an endpoint to my endurance and, as I told my sister, it was encroaching fast.
“Getting… close…” I warned her.
“Ohhh, uhhn. Me too.”
“OK,” I said. Again, I know, the rhetoric was riveting.
To this point, I’d moved in ways that seemed to make Betsy respond. Now though, I abandoned myself to my own pleasure. Did what my body and millions of years of biology told me was right. The tingle started at the base of my dick and spilled forward.
“Getting thicker,” Betsy said, “Feel it. Is he going to shoot for me?”
“Uh huh.”
“Good,” Betsy said, “I like it when it shoots.”
As I plunged forward, I did my best to hold back. To ready myself to release from Betsy’s body before I let go. My sister sensed my hesitation. She snapped her legs around my waist.
“No,” she gasped. “Inside.”
For a second, everything held on the precipice. Then the spark raced across my body. The pleasure exploded out of me. And a river of my sperm raced out of my cock and burst straight into my sister’s pussy.
“Oh fuck!” Betsy cried out. She gripped my arms tighter, and I realized that my sister was cumming, too. Her body’s pleasure responding to my own, like each feeding the other. A counterpointing crescendo of ecstasy in our sibling-induced symphony.
I’m pretty sure I roared as my fertile fluid finally filled my sister. The bliss coming in long, sharp bursts that matched my ejaculations. Each slightly lesser than the last.
“Oh Betsy,” I said. Practically a sob. “Oh God.”
“That’s it. There’s a good boy,” Betsy said, stroking my back. “Let it all go.”
I don’t remember the rest of it. We separated ourselves, I’m certain. I have a vague recollection of a kiss. A tight squeeze. I’d poured my essence into my sister. It wasn’t just the energy of the sex, the buildup of the evening. It was days of anticipation. Weeks. A lifetime of waiting for this moment. And when it hit, I could barely do anything except let sleep overtake me.
*
I woke up freezing cold.
I was naked in bed, covered in the comforter. No different than my usual morning. Yet I was shivering. Shaking. I got up and got dressed, quick as I could. But it wasn’t enough. I dug through my drawers and found a pair of jeans and a long sleeve sweater from a long-forgotten high school trip to New York City. Still, I wrapped my arms around myself.