I never planned to fuck my sister. It just happened one humid summer night when we were both home from college, the house empty except for the two of us and years of pent-up tension that finally snapped.
We were in the kitchen after midnight, both half-drunk on cheap wine and the fact that Mom and Dad were gone for the weekend. Lena was twenty-one, barefoot in an old T-shirt that barely covered her ass, and I was twenty-three, trying not to stare at the way her nipples pushed against the thin cotton. She caught me looking and smirked.
"You've been staring at my tits since I got home," she said, voice low and direct. "Just say it."
I didn't answer with words. I stepped in, grabbed her hips, and kissed her hard. She kissed back like she'd been waiting, tongue pushing into my mouth, hands already yanking at my belt. We didn't make it to the bedroom. She shoved me against the counter, dropped to her knees, and pulled my cock out. Her mouth was hot and wet, sucking me deep without any teasing. I fucked her throat while she gagged and moaned around me, spit running down her chin.
When I pulled her up, she turned around, bent over the table, and pulled the T-shirt up to her waist. No panties. Her pussy was shaved and already dripping. I slammed into her in one thrust. She was tight and soaked, gripping me like she wanted to keep me there. I fucked her rough, hands on her hips, slapping against her ass while she begged for it harder.
"Harder, fuck your sister harder," she groaned, and hearing those words made me lose it.
I pounded her until the table legs scraped the floor, then pulled out and shot thick ropes across her lower back and ass. She reached back, rubbed my cum into her skin, then licked her fingers clean while looking over her shoulder at me.
We didn't stop there. We moved to the couch. She rode me, tits bouncing in my face while I sucked her nipples and fingered her asshole. She came twice, clenching around my cock and screaming my name. Later, on her bed, I ate her out for what felt like an hour, tongue buried in her cunt while she ground against my face and told me how long she'd wanted this. When I finally slid back inside her, we fucked slow and deep, staring at each other, both knowing this was the line we could never uncross.
By morning we were sore and sticky, lying tangled in her sheets. She kissed my chest and whispered, "This is our secret. But we're doing it again."
We did. Every chance we got that summer. Her pussy became my favorite place, and the dirtier the talk got, the harder we came. It was raw, wrong, and exactly what we both needed.
