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The next day I arose more distraught than ever. This had gone way too far. Not only was my sister getting me erect, but now she was also jacking me off? And getting herself soaking wet in the process?! No way. I couldn’t allow this horror show to proceed. She was my baby sister. She was counting on me to protect her, to be her brother, to spend time with her, and how did I repay her? I got her to molest my cock; I manipulated her to think she was enjoying it; I fucked her over, bad. I could barely live with myself by noon.

To make matters worse, she emailed me our plans for Friday night—as she’d won one of the poker games we played—and this time she registered us for salsa dancing tutoring. That’s the last thing I needed: for my sister to press her tight, virgin anus against the head of my rock-hard cock.

Brooke and Mom returned from work just after dusk. I was in my room, disgusted with myself, praying to god Brooke wouldn’t stop by. I guess I was praying to the wrong dude because two hours later, there was a knock on my door. I was so terrified it was Brooke that I swiftly slunk into bed and pretended to be asleep.

The door opened, yet I couldn’t tell who it was since I was lying with my back facing it. A spell later, I could hear a door shut followed by distancing strides. Thank god. I crawled out of bed and lit up a cigarette. I was suckling on it like a newborn that had been desperate for milk, brooding over recent events some more. Amidst brooding, I again heard footsteps edging closer.

I snuffed out my cigarette and launched myself headfirst into the bed just as my door opened again. This time, however, the proverbial knock on the door was conspicuously absent. The intruder shut the door and entered my domain, wandering about until reaching my bed. I could sense the sweet-sour fragrance that gave away the culprit’s identity in an instant. It was my sister.

I was terrified she would attempt to end my fake sleep, yet I soon discovered that there were some things far more terrifying than having your sister waking you up, e.g., your sister getting into bed with you under the covers and spooning you. I was just barely able to keep my dozing facade alive, worshiping every deity I had ever heard of, offering my allegiance to whatever god that was able coaxing her out of my bed first, but to no avail. Foolish me. Who would have helped me really?

Who would have helped the guy who had made his baby sister work his shaft just 24 hours earlier while she was leaking like a faucet from what I could only assume was an exquisitely delicious cunt if its mouthwatering scent was anything to go by. No. No one was about to help me. Even Lucifer wanted nothing to do with me.

I was now so immersed in self-pity that I didn’t even notice that her warm hand was cornering my cock yet again over my shorts. She gave it a few good long strokes, making sure she would not be the only one who was up in that room. I was so fucking horny, and she got me insane in less than thirty seconds. I was aching for a good release and hated myself for letting my sister take care of my cock under false pretense of sleeping.

She tugged up my T-shirt and approached my shorts, her hand fighting to slither into my boxer briefs.

I faked a stir and squinted my eyes open. “Brooke, please.”

She raised her upper torso, propping her bust up on my side. She met my troubled gaze, her hand motionless, trapped between the pair of my waistbands.

“I’ve missed you so much today,” she whispered, her hand still.


“Stop me,” she whispered. “Go ahead, tell me to stop. You’ve got three seconds before you’re in my hand.”

My mouth went dry as I was desperate for her to rub me, but I quickly regrouped, fishing my winning argument, “You’ve already given me my reward.”

She placed her pouty lips in my ear, and her tongue started twirling in it.

“Fuck,” I sighed in great pleasure. “Brooke…”

“No, darling,” she tenderly whispered in my ear, her hand idle between my waistbands. “Last night was from me… to show you how much you mean to me.”

“We can’t. This is beyond wrong.”

“It’s not wrong, baby,” she sex-panted in my ear. “It’s your reward; you earned it last night. All I’m doing now is simply abiding by our agreement. It’s siblingly binding, you know.”

“Brooke, I’m begging,” I feebly uttered, my eyes indeed begging.

She gave no respect to that shaky whisper, her stare determined and unyielding. “I’m going into your briefs. Stop me. I dare you to.”

Our eyes were locked in a duel of wills; mine was crumbling quicker than I’d thought, feeding hers more resolution.

“3… 2… 1… you’re mine,” she panted, her hand back slithering.

Her gaze didn’t free my own as she wanted me to see that I wanted it, that I could have stopped her but didn’t. She overcame both of my waistbands, slipping her hand into my briefs while staring right into my eyeballs.

“Brooke, god,” I gasped as she made contact with my cylinder of sin. “Please…”

She ankara escort began caressing my expanding cock skin to skin, manifesting a firm grip on my shaft.

“Shhhhh,” she softly whispered, like a mother cradling a baby to tranquility. “Go back to sleep.”

Against my better judgment, I shut my eyes in pain, and let her have her way with me.

She began working it with purpose, not even trying to pretend to care for my “sleep”. She swirled her thumb at my piss slit, feeling the contours of the head, sloping down my swollen vein to reach for the base. I hoped she might have given up when she paused for a moment, yet I was soon to be stand corrected, feeling her cradling my balls and kneading them with care, assessing their weight in her petite hand. She then shifted her attention back to my dick, bobbing in full throttle, determined to drench her hand in my jizz once more.

What could I have done? Should I have “woken up” and stopped her? No. I didn’t even want to think about that talk I would need to have with her. Sadly, I was sentenced to come in my “sleep” to my baby sister’s dexterous hand. And dexterous wouldn’t even begin to capture it. She used different techniques to subdue my cock, ranging from solely tugging at the head, to rubbing the shaft in slow, loving strokes, to bobbing in frenzy.

“I’ve been daydreaming about this all day,” she whispered in my ear, clarifying that we both knew that I wasn’t truly asleep, and that she did hold my permission to proceed with this sin.

I kept my fucking mouth shut though, conflicted, aroused, torn, and horny like hell while she was sucking on my neck, working both her tongue and hand.

“You’re gonna come like a madman by the time I’m done with you, Bro,” she softly breathed. “You’ll just wait and see.”

My dick flinched first, signaling it was ready to be taken when a few beads of pre-cum were smeared all over her laboring hand, yet suddenly her hand vanished, and a booming sound of suction echoed off the walls and into my ears. Oh, god… my baby sister was sucking my pre-cum off her fingers.

My place in hell had now been double booked and triple sealed. No just god, compassionate as he may be, would allow the guy who made his baby sister suck his pre-cum off her fingers to put a foot inside his realm. Although I really hoped there was indeed such a god who might look the other way. But even I wasn’t so feeble-minded to believe that there was a god, who would have granted entrance to his kingdom to the guy who made his sister jerk him off and suck on his pre-cum while she was getting herself wringing wet as the appetizing scent of her pussy juices traveled across the room, making sure I was aware she was pouring down under.

I wanted to eat her out so bad, feast on her cunt for days, sip her juices from a goblet, gulp her wetness straight out of a keg, bathe in her warm oils until I had been drenched to my bones with her pussy-essence. I was seriously contemplating whether to just rip her panties off and start sucking her dry.

“You taste so good,” she whispered, sucking on her sticky fingers some more. “You feel so good.”

I had little time to bask in this bliss of a vision since her nimble hand returned to my cock, more resolved than ever to bring it to soak her again, and she wasn’t playing around, either, going for the head right from the get go: one finger on the vein while the rest clutched the umbrella like a crane, tenaciously jerking back and forth.

My prick was heroically fighting an uphill battle, but it could not stave her off for more than a minute when her cute, soft panting started playing in my ear, and all that was left for it to do was to spit my cum like a cobra, spraying my venom all over her hand, while she kept relentlessly tugging at the tip, breathing heavily, unwilling to accept she had long expelled every single drop.

“Just”—she licked my neck—”like”—she nibbled my earlobe—”a madman.”

She let out a breathily moan of satisfaction as she strangled the base of my cock, pressing all the way up my rod like a piston. Once she stroked me dry, she rinsed her hand in my cum until she was satisfied with her new, fresh paintjob. A peck on my cheek, and she was out of my door. Satan, here I come.


“Those are some thick-looking jeans, Josh. You should have probably worn something more aerodynamic. We’re going dancing tonight; not working in a cotton field.”

“Yeah, um… those are my favorite jeans.”

“Weird. I don’t remember you ever wearing them. Doesn’t matter. The instructor must have an outfit ready just in case guys like you show up wearing… whatever it is you’re wearing.”

“What do you mean outfit?”

“You know, those silky smooth, thin pants that you see all the dancers wearing in the movies.”

“Oh, shit… are you sure he has one?”

“Well, here he comes; let’s ask.”

Five minutes later, I was clad in an outrageously thin, itchy satin pants, ostentatious in their color scheme and sewing pattern, and completely ridiculous in shape escort ankara and figure, sinfully eyeing my sister, who was wearing a tight, thin, short, sexy red dress.

“You look good, Josh. With these pants you’ll be able to feel the energies much more intensely.”

“That’s exactly what I was afraid of.”



We attended a two-hour lesson in salsa dancing, and just as I feared, my sister was grinding her cute little ass against my fully erect penis, which had stayed that erect for the duration of our dance. She felt it plenty and kept laughing her eyes out; however, towards the end of the dance, she ceased laughing and had a more focused look to her, even though she was clearly grinding her tiny butthole against my now achingly straining member.

After the dance lesson, we sauntered down the busy streets downtown, and strangely enough, neither of us had brought up the last two nights, which I was very thankful for since I felt like a sexually abusing brother by now. I had even managed persuading myself earlier today that I was potentially some sort of a rapist in disguise.

I was extremely rattled by what was happening between Brooke and myself emotionally and definitely physically. I planned on having a talk with her later that night, but for the time being, we were having fun, and I knew how much she was anticipating our time together, so I submerged myself in our conversations, and I was actually having loads of fun with her, which now seemed like the natural thing to expect whenever we spent time together, which was also quite distressing.

Strange as it seemed, when I was with Brooke, I was never even once glimpsing at my watch or plotting my retreat back home. I was totally and utterly absorbed in my sister, and I could spend hours with her conversing, laughing, or just staring at her, listening to her, admiring her. There was a lot to admire in Brooke. She was a glass-half-full type of person in a world where everyone around me were bitter, cynical bastards, constantly bringing me down. But not her. She didn’t bring me down at all. She was encouraging, supporting, uplifting… how could I not see it before? See her?

After spending five magical hours together, we returned home, and Brooke invited herself to my room after I fetched two beers from the fridge. I knew she was 18, so what? That was the definitely not the worst of my problems regarding her.

We were now in our pajamas: me in shorts and a tank, and her in her proverbial boxer shorts and a snug crop top… fucking barefoot. I had developed a minor fixation to her feet by now. They were absofuckinglutely perfect and arousing. I wanted to fuck them silly.

She was lying on my bed while I was resting in my luxurious office chair, smoking an old Indian pipe that I had purchased in a yard sale a year back.

“Josh, I’m having like the best time with you. I can’t believe how close we’ve gotten because of your um”—she smiled sheepishly—”problem.”

“Brooke, I asked you not to make fun—”

“I’m not! I swear, Josh. I’m being serious.”

“Oh. Well… I wanted to talk to you about something.”

She swigged her beer. “Shoot.”

“Our closeness, it’s… disturbing.”

Her fearful gaze was shot at me at the speed of sound. “Did I do something wrong, sweetie?”

“Brooke, you did nothing wrong, do you hear me? It’s all on me. I took advantage of you, and I used you, and I—”

“What are you talking about, Josh?! You did nothing of that sort! You’ve been nothing but amazing with me.”

“No, I haven’t. I’m your oldest and only brother, and I should’ve known better, but now I’m—”

“Josh, stop it! I know what you’re gonna say, and I know what I’m doing. I’m not your little sister anymore. I mean I am, but I’m now also a grown woman. Why can’t you see that?”

“For what I’ve done to you, you’re going to end up lying on some shrink’s sofa for years, trying to piece your life together! Can’t you see that?! I love you, Brooke. I don’t want to screw up your life.”

“But you’ve only made it better. Why can’t you see that? You know what will screw up my life? If you distance yourself from me again, sweetie. I won’t be able to take it. I’m too invested in you now.”

“Brooke! What the fuck do you mean, you’re too invested?!”

“You know exactly what I mean.”

“And here lies the problem: you can’t be invested in me. I’m your fucking brother!”

She stabbed me in the heart with her frightened look. “So you’re saying you don’t feel um”—she gulped—”what I feel?”

“It doesn’t matter what I feel. It only matters what society and the courts of law feel.” I let out a deep sigh. “Look, we had a good run, but we need—”

“Is it because I’m not pretty enough for you?”

“God, no, no, no, don’t go there. It has nothing to do with it.”

“Dad always says I’m pretty.”

“And he knows what he’s talking about. He’s a smart man.”

“I don’t trust him; he has to say it.”

“Then who do you trust? Ask that person.”

“I trust ankara escort bayan you, baby. Only you.” She arose from the bed and sashayed up to me. “Am I pretty, Josh? Huh, sweetie? Am I pretty?”

I took a sharp drag from my pipe and exhaled in dismay. “You’re fucking perfect, Brooke.”

“How do you know that? You haven’t even seen me.”

She reached for her crop top.

“Brooke,” I said pointedly

“I just want you to tell me if I’m pretty, baby, that’s all.”

She held her crop top with crossed arms and took it off in a split second, revealing her white push-up bra and whatever of her bosom it allowed seeing, which was almost all of it.

She was stunning. Her milky-white breasts were out in the open, almost right down to her nipples as the push-up feature of her bra was quite aggressive, bordering on slutty.

She stepped closer. “Am I pretty, Josh?”

I wanted to sob in pain. “God, Brooke… so damn pretty.”

“And my nipples, are they also pretty?”

She reached for her back to unhook her bra.

“Brooke, please don’—”

Too late. Her bra was already carelessly cast on the floor, and my sister was standing in front of me bare-breasted and absolutely mesmerizing. Her upper torso was to die for: beautiful teardrop-shaped breasts that flared out ever so slightly; pink hard buds that were pointing at me, aching for my approval. Her plump cargo was assembled on a quite narrow frame, which kept reducing in circumference the closer to her waist before erotically flaring again at her hips.

My sister’s twins would have put to shame every pair of tits I had ever seen, and I had seen my fair share of tits. They stood up, they were smooth, full, symmetric, and just incredible in every way. She looked like the cast from which models were molded.

“Josh?” she tentatively called.

“Your tits are fabulous, sweetheart; god, they look amazing…”

“They feel amazing, too.”

I nodded, spellbound and aching. “I bet they do.”

She shook her head. “I want you to feel them, so I’ll know for sure it’s not just me.” She stepped closer and was standing as close as my sizable executive chair allowed her. “Feel them, Josh.”

“Honey, I’m so fucking hard now. It’s best I don’t touch you.”

“I’m sure you’ll be able to hold yourself.” She seized my right hand and guided it to her magnificent bosom. “Feel me up. Feel my nipples.”

I was sitting in my black executive chair with a pipe in my mouth, a beer in my left hand, and my sister’s left tit in my right. I couldn’t help it. I cupped her smooth breast and squeezed on her supple flesh, softly at first, sensing the composite of blood, tissues, and fat stirring inside her to my will.

That stir didn’t agree with my stamina at all as I was building the tent of the century from barely touching her, when up till now I’d been fucking pussies with a quarter of an erection and had been certain I could have never gotten stiffer. My sister just seemed to bring out the hardness in me. I was sporting some raging hard on, and I could feel my cum coursing along the shaft back and forth, undecided.

“Josh, you can press harder,” she almost pleaded, her tit in my hand. “Don’t be afraid; I want you to… feel me up.”

After a brisk moment, where my soul and cock were battling as to who was calling the shots, my sister’s titty got squashed in my hand, resulting in a ragged intake of air from Brooke, yet she did not object. I freed her from my inconsiderate grip and circled her pretty areola, watching her seductive lips quivering at my touch.

I began feeling her, thoroughly rubbing and squeezing. It felt like a religious experience. I held her nipple between my finger and thumb and gently curled and tugged while my sister sharply inhaled to every pull. I rotated between her boobs, sparing them an equal amount of attention and care while I was getting myself acquainted with them. I took note of the almost nonexistent crack between her breasts as she was so narrow and her bosom was so plentiful. I trailed my fingertips down to her toned tummy and softly pulled on her piercing while Brooke was flexing her abs for me as I did. I went back to her tits, and I was now fully in the moment.

“How do they feel, sweetie?”

“Sensational,” I sighed, bewitched, as I pulled my sister by her nipple to me.

“Ouch! Josh!”

She had no option but to quickly climb into my chair, so she could keep her nipple intact. She was on her knees straddling my crotch in the air, back arched, and breasts leveled with my mouth while my painful erection was at an upright position and was aligned perfectly with her clothed vagina.

I gazed up to meet her eyes. “This is your fault.”

“Be careful, baby,” she softly murmured, caressing my cheek. “My nipples are so sensitive.”

I took her right nipple into my mouth, assaulting it with my tongue and lips, suckling and nibbling at her perfect pink flesh while she gasped, trembled, and whimpered, palming the back of my head as she watched her brother having his way with her titties.

“Take this.”

I shoved my pipe into her mouth and emptied my beer in a single gulp, tossing it on the bed once I was done. She took a few drags from my pipe and placed it on the desk behind me.

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