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[This follows on from An Online Sin and A Physical Sin]

I spent a week or so in a daze, barely leaving my room let alone the house. I went through all sorts of emotions, including shame, guilt and disgust. But mostly I felt elation, I felt a buzz, I felt horny, I felt curious, I felt desperate to do it again. There was one obvious step up from the fuck in the nightclub toilet cubicle, and that was for me and Ben to fuck face-to-face.

How I could make that happen took up virtually all of my waking hours for that first week. I lay under the covers in my slobby PJs trying to play out in my mind a scenario that would work. Ben and dad assumed I was feeling unwell and I played along, moping around the house with a blanket wrapped around me. I was finding it difficult to engage in conversation with my brother. As soon as I looked at him I would get flashbacks of his cock in my face, of his cock in my cunt, of his cum drip dripping out of me on to that ceramic floor.

Towards the end of the week I booted up my laptop, and on checking my emails discovered 12 from Ben. I had totally forgotten that he would be bombarding ‘Kate’ with messages after her rather rude post-coital disappearing act. The emails started off in a perplexed and concerned tone, dipped briefly into anger, then tailed off into begging. The poor boy was smitten with her. And it was hardly surprising. Fucking any girl in a full-length PVC catsuit was mind-blowing, but he had got to do it with the girl of his kinky dreams.

I tapped out a short apologetic email, saying I had freaked myself out with my brazen behaviour and wanted to put some space between us. He replied as soon as he returned from work that night, understandably asking whether we would see each other again. I said I’d think about it. He was actually quite down. I felt a sisterly sympathy for him, quickly followed by an urge to have him fuck me. I had no idea how he would react if I told him the truth, and at that point the prospect of him disowning me was too much. But my craving for him was growing each day, to the point where I couldn’t stand the thought of my boyfriend being with me. I called him in an effort to postpone his visit, telling him I was still sick. Ha fucking ha.

Not having seen me for over a month he turned up on the doorstep anyway. My face betrayed the horror I felt at him being there and he obviously knew something wasn’t right. He stayed a couple of nights, suffering a cold shoulder as my ‘illness’ meant I wasn’t in the mood for sex, and left abruptly one morning with barely a goodbye. The night before he had stayed up late and chatted to Ben downstairs over a few beers while I strained to hear from my door without success, tiptoeing back to my fake sleep when I heard him coming up to bed. The next morning he packed his bag and went home.

A weight lifted from my shoulders and I perked up immediately. That afternoon I decided to go shopping for a few hours, as I’d hardly been out of the house for the past week, and I shouted up to Ben that I would be back for dinner. He was still in bed.

I enjoyed myself, bought a few tops and magazines, some new make-up and got home around 7pm to find the house empty. Oh well, takeaway for me. Then Dad rang to say he wouldn’t be coming home tonight. Yes! Go Dad! The twinkle in his voice said there was a special someone to blame for this. I told him I loved him and said: “Enjoy yourself!” Then when I got off the phone I realised it would be just me and Ben in tonight. Unless he was out all night, too.

I was unsure how to approach that kind of situation but, in the end, I didn’t have to. By midnight there was no Ben and I sloped off to bed, fairly disappointed. I stripped off and clambered under the covers, dropping more or less straight off after all the nervous energy I’d expended in the recent days.

Hours later, I woke with a start. Ben was sat güvenilir canlı bahis siteleri next to me. Was I dreaming?

“Sorry didn’t mean to scare you,” he slurred. Drunk. He smelt like he’d been swimming in vodka.

“Um. It’s OK. What’s up? … Oh – Dad phoned he’s staying out tonight, he’s fine.”

“No, no. It’s not that.”

“Oh, what then?” I was about to push myself up and sit up against my pillow when I remembered I was naked under the covers, so I just rolled over a little to face him.

“Mikey was pretty upset last night. He thinks you’re having an affair.”


“So… are you?”


“Do you want to know why he thinks you’re having an affair?”

“Because I didn’t put out for him this week?” I said sarcastically.

A snort, then an uncomfortable pause. “No, Jane. It’s mainly because of the PVC catsuit he found in your wardrobe, the one that had been worn.”

The blood drained from my face, my mouth dried up, my heart was beating wildly. There was a noise of some sort ringing in my ears. We were staring at each other in the half-light, but I couldn’t see a thing. I felt like I was blacking out.

He shifted in his chair. “And I thought that was a coincidence, cos I pulled a girl wearing one of those last weekend. So I had a look at it today while you were out.”

I couldn’t speak. What could I say anyway? Protest about him rummaging through my clothes?

“And guess what? It’s the same fucking one. And the shop in town that it came from say they only had one, sold a couple of weeks ago to a pretty brunette who was going to the college fancy dress party.”

He took a deep breath, running his hands through his hair as his head slumped down. “Did I fuck you Jane?” he said to the carpet.

My mind was racing for any plausible explanation, but he had me bang to rights. I couldn’t think of a way out.


“Um… yes… sorry.”

There was a silence that seemed to last for hours, though no doubt only a few minutes. My turn to take a deep breath.

“How does that make you feel Ben?”

He looked up. “Ahhhhh let’s see. Confused, pissed, stupid, sick, embarrassed . . .”

“I’m sorry Ben, I w…”

“And horny.”


“Horny. It was horny as fuck. I doubt I will ever experience anything as horny again in my life.”

Another silence. This was an unexpected reaction. Was it just the booze talking? I felt like I had to strike while the iron was hot. I ventured a foot out from under the covers and gently, subtly stroked his leg with my big toe. “Me too Ben.”

He looked down at the foot, his head still in his hands. He watched it, initiating physical contact, making a move. My leg was probably exposed from just below the knee in reaching over to him, so if he was thinking coherently he would have deduced that I had ditched the Winnie the Pooh PJs of the previous five days.

I broke the silence. “Are you OK with me?” I stopped my foot’s scratching of his thigh and held it there against his leg, waiting for some kind of encouragement.

His right hand fell to my calf, gently holding it. “Yes.”

I straightened my leg fully, exposing it further from beneath the covers, enabling his stationary hand to slide up the back of my calf and just beyond the back of my knee. My foot was at his waist as he sat on the chair beside me. I curled my foot to squeeze him gently. He didn’t remove his hand, bet neither did he indulge in any stroking or movement. I wanted him – I knew this might be my only chance to see this through. He would need some coaxing.

“Are you feeling horny now, Ben?”

“Uh-huh,” came the immediate reply.

“Me too.” I lifted my leg so there was a decent gap between my thighs, lifting the covers simultaneously. “See for yourself.”

Still his hand didn’t move. He must have been güvenilir illegal bahis siteleri having one final wrestle with his conscience. I reached down and placed my hand on his, squeezing gently then pulling it up my thigh. My heart was beating so wildly I was sure he must have been able to hear it. He didn’t resist, and I let go of his hand a few inches from my pussy, hoping he would go the final stage himself. He was leaning across now, and I had been forced to move my foot from his waist, resting it on the bed with my knee bent so that my legs were open even wider.

I pushed my hips forward a little as one final gesture, and then he took the bait. His hand nudged between my legs and I gasped. He drew his knuckle down along my slit and smeared the building wetness. I tried to seek out his eyes in the semi-darkness but couldn’t see if they were even open. Then a finger slid slowly inside me. My brother was fingering me in my bedroom. And it felt divine. He slowly fucked me with his middle finger a few times then began exploring a little more inside me, two fingers entering after a while and making me squirm.

Emboldened, I threw back the covers. I writhed slowly on the bed under his control, realising his eyes would certainly be open now, watching his big sister getting wetter and wetter as his hand explored between her legs. My thighs were just about as far apart as I could prise them, my hips pushing towards him, wanting him to use and abuse me.

I reached over with a hand and tugged on the sleeve of his other arm, pulling harder until it dawned on him I was pulling him on to the bed. He clambered slowly next to me, his fingers slipping out of me as he lay down. I kissed him gently on the lips and began unbuttoning his shirt. His hand switched to my clit, the lubrication from inside me ensuring his oiled fingers were sliding smoothly over my obvious arousal. I was shuddering every time he pressed on me, my hands frantically working down his shirt, then wrenching his belt away from his jeans when I had reached the bottom.

My hand delved straight inside and grabbed his stiff cock. Finally. This time it would be for real. I squeezed inside his pants, moving closer to start a proper kiss with him. We started slowly and built up, mouths open and accommodating, tongues probing as our hands reached down between our sibling’s legs, slowly squeezing and rubbing.

He eventually made his own move, breaking free of me to take off his shirt, he then began to push his jeans down but realised he still had his shoes on. He began to sit up but I pushed him back down. “I’ll do it,” I whispered. I pushed myself up and turned to face his feet, throwing a foot over him and standing tiptoe on the floor while my other leg knelt on the bed. I was deliberately straddling him, my ass staring at him – and vice versa hopefully – as I slowly unfastened his laces and pulled off his shoes and socks. I felt a hand stroke my thigh and another surge of electricity went through me. I pulled on his jeans, whipping them off, and then pushed myself further up the bed, finishing with my head directly over his cock as I removed is boxer shorts, my cunt directly over his face.

I reached for his cock with my hand, my familiarity with it meaning I felt no need to stop and stare. I lowered my mouth on to him, pulling the foreskin of his semi-hard dick as my mouth slowly enveloped his head. I sucked gently, letting out a loud groan. This was meant to be. I felt his hands stroke up the back of my thighs, up to my ass. He pulled me down on to his face. I felt his mouth on my pussy lips, his tongue on my clit, and I had to release myself from his cock as I shuddered with excitement, almost crying out as he slurped between my legs.

My hand continued to squeeze and stroke his cock, but I was in my own selfish world, simply enjoying the sensation of my brother holding güvenilir bahis şirketleri my pussy to his face, with his tongue hungrily exploring me, my juices smearing around his mouth and nose.

Ben was rock hard now, and I suddenly realised I was neglecting him and returned my lips to his tool, a brief kiss followed by a long slide down his shaft as far as I could go, holding him at the back of my mouth and sucking. We were both moaning with every slight change in pressure the other exerted, our bodies twitching and shifting against the other’s mouth in seeking to maximise the pleasure.

I, however, did not want to waste time on a 69 with my brother. I dragged my mouth off his cock, my teeth grazing the head as I broke free of his steel. I lifted my pussy from his increasingly eager mouth and swivelled round as gracefully as I could so that I was on all fours above him, my cunt hovering above his stiff cock, my mouth seeking out his. I could taste myself on him, and the knowledge that I was licking my own juice from my brother’s chin sent another surge of desire through me.

I reached down and grabbed his cock, plunging myself on to it. He opened his mouth to groan so I plunged my tongue into him. We kissed as I held him there, then I began to circle my hips with his cock buried inside me, grinding my clit against his own pelvic bone, feeling his moans well up from deep inside.

His hands suddenly moved from my hips to my shoulder and pushed me back.

“Jane . . . we could get locked up for this you realise.”

I stopped. I drew myself slowly off him, listening to the lush sound of the coating I was leaving on his cock as he slid out of me, and stopping when he was almost out. “So get me fucking arrested Ben,” I hissed, and impaled myself back on to him, sitting further back and drawing my knees up either side as I began to ride him.

I gyrated on him as much as I could without lifting my clit from rubbing against his body. His hands reached round to clasp my ass as I rocked increasingly violently on his compliant body. I fell on to him, my nipples rubbing against his chest, my tongue diving back into his mouth, my feet gripping the outside of his knees.

I began to lift slightly within my movements, he responded by fucking me from beneath. A familiar squeaking arose from my bed, a noise Ben had no doubt had to endure before as he listened to me being screwed by my boyfriends. Now it was my brother burying his tool into me. I was so close to cumming and yet I wanted this fuck to last forever. My hand gripped his shaggy hair as I ground my body against him. His strong arms were using me, dragging my smooth soft body over his hairy chest and legs, dragging my dilated pussy on and off his cock.

We were panting into each other’s mouths. I was getting really close.

“I’m going to cum Ben,” I whispered. “Cum with me. Cum inside me.”

He growled some sort of acquiescence and I pushed myself back, hands on his muscled chest, and bucked on him frantically for 10 seconds or so as I galloped past the point of no return. I came with a bang, my nails digging into him, a scream shattering the silence of the empty house. Another wave and I threw my head back, not knowing what to do with myself. I couldn’t find the momentum to continue on him, my body going limp numb and over-stimulated all at once. Ben still had to cum, and he grabbed my hips and fucked me, making sure he joined me in ecstasy.

I felt him lean into me from below, forcing as much of his cock into me as he could, then he cried out and I felt him shoot. I threw myself on to him and kissed him, wanting him to be aware that it was me, his sister, filling up with his cum as he unloaded over and over.

“Ah I can feel you cumming in me Ben. You’re fucking your sister.”

When he finished, and the twitching and the whimpering has subsided, we kissed some more then I clambered off him, dribbling his cum back on to his thigh and on to my bed

“Oh, you fucked me Ben. We fucked.”

“You call that fucking my sister?” he whispered, his hand reaching round my waist to pull my closer. “We haven’t even started…”

We kissed again. A long night beckoned…

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