My Sister...All Mine
Caution: This Incest Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Reluctant, Heterosexual, Incest, Brother, Sister, BDSM, First, Oral Sex,
Desc: Incest Sex Story: Chapter 1 - When a brother spends his life raising his younger sister he discovers he has eyes only for her and has every intention of making her his.
By modern standards I suppose we were not all that different from the average family. I knew no one who came from a complete, happy, family so our broken home didn't seem all that unusual to me. Mother was the type of woman who had relied on her beauty her entire life to see her through and had never bothered to further her education or seek a career of her own. As a young girl she had been more interested in the praise horny teenaged boys heaped upon her than being responsible. She had teased and flirted and had allowed advances by these boys that most girls her age were not allowing just yet. It was no surprise to anyone when she turned up pregnant at fifteen by an older man who disappeared the moment she announced she was carrying his child. Me.
Forced by strict parents to carry a child she didn't want I was born and for the first five years of my life we lived with my grandparents. They raised me and gave me all the love they could in what should have been their golden years of retirement while my mother struggled to finish high school and make a life for herself, for us. A beautiful woman she didn't care about getting an education, determined that her looks would always provide for her and if they didn't, her parents would. Unfortunately for her my grandparents died a few months before I turned six only a month apart. We had no other family and she was forced to handle the funeral arrangements on her own, funeral arrangements we could barely afford.
Unable to cover the cost on what was left in my grandparents savings, savings that had been eaten up by raising me and my mother, she was forced to sell the house and we moved into a small apartment. Mother found her niche in the world when she went to work for a businessman as his secretary, personifying the image that all secretaries were buxom and easy. It was barely enough to pay the bills but somehow she always had money to spend on her toiletries and clothes and jewelry. Though I was only a child I understood she was her boss's mistress and that all these extra things were from him. Gifts to his kept woman.
I couldn't hate her though. In spite of her selfish nature she did love me, in her own way. Often she would take me in her arms and hold me tightly, her words almost sad as she'd whisper, "My sweet little Marcus. The only man in my life who loves me for nothing." Her moments of sad introspection were few and far between, however, and never enough to inspire her to find a better way.
Her affair with her boss went on for several years and as I grew older I realized he was married though she had often hinted to the possibility that he might propose to her some day. It was a nice fantasy but even I could see that he was stringing her along. I tried to tell her that he wasn't serious but she wouldn't hear anything I had to say, stating I was just a child and didn't know anything about men and women. No matter what she maintained the delusion that he was going to leave his wife for her and she refused to accept any reality but the one she had so carefully crafted in her imagination.
I was ten years old when he got her pregnant. I can remember it as clearly as if it had happened the day before, hearing the muffled sobs coming from the bathroom as I came in from school one afternoon. I knocked on the door but she called out that she was fine and would be out in a minute. That minute turned into several minutes and it was nearly an hour later when she finally emerged only to head straight to her bedroom where she again closed herself in. Curious and a little frightened I listened in at the door as she called her boss and told him her news, that she was expecting his child.
It was obvious from the ensuing one sided conversation that she expected him to finally leave her wife now that she was pregnant. It was also obvious that he was not giving her what she wanted and by the end of the conversation she was in tears all over again, berating him for abandoning her in her condition before eventually hanging up on him entirely. I could hear her sobbing again but I couldn't move, I was frozen thinking about a new sibling, worried over matters that no ten year old should even know about.
I never understood why my mother didn't end her pregnancy, why she kept Cynthia. I always suspected she was holding out hope that her boss would see the light some day and leave his wife for her. He never did of course, but he did provide for his daughter, giving my mother money for her even after her employment at his office was terminated. Though she didn't tell me what happened I had become quite adept at listening in to her conversations and learned that she had been making inappropriate comments in the work place, no doubt hinting to the fact that she had had the boss's baby to people she shouldn't have been talking too in the first place.
She had never been overly maternal with me and she was even less so with Cynthia so much of the responsibilities for caring for her fell to me. Perhaps if Cynthia had been a boy mother wouldn't have minded so much but the older Cynthia got the more apparent it became that she was going to be stunning and it was almost as if Mother was jealous of her. As a result she was overly hard on Cynthia, cutting her down and doing her very best to make Cynthia feel inferior while she spent the money from Cynthia's father on herself rather than her daughter.
Cynthia had more spirit than our mother gave her credit for and she took her comments for what they were, jealousy, but she grew up shy and reserved none the less, especially when our mother was around. I seemed to be the only one she was comfortable around and as a result we were very close in spite of the age difference. I took care of Cynthia and grew to be very protective of my sweet natured little sister who always looked at me as if I were her hero. I became driven by the desire to give her a better life and I was a diligent student and spent most of my time studying. When I wasn't studying I was with Cynthia. The little girl had quickly wormed her way into my heart and became my reason for everything I did.
I graduated from high school with honors and went on to college almost immediately. We lived in Boston and with my grades I was had earned myself a scholarship to BU. I lived at home while I attended college to save money but also to make sure Cynthia was alright. I couldn't trust my mother to care for the little girl as much as that knowledge saddened me. I just couldn't bring myself to leave her behind.
I worked my balls off and graduated in three years instead of four, with honors, and with my business degree I plunged into the workforce. Fiercely competitive and determined I quickly climbed the corporate ladder and soon was the main breadwinner for our little family though Mother had moved on to a string of rich men who showered her gifts and ensured her bills were paid. Though we never spoke on it I knew she was little more than a prostitute. Just because the men kept her around for a period of time didn't mean they weren't paying for her. I learned to ignore it and in time almost forgot our mother lived there with us.
I was 26 when I bought my house in Cambridge. Though part of me wished I could take only Cynthia with me I moved both of them into my home. Mother enjoyed the more upscale living she had been denied in my youth but little changed with her. She still craved the attention, still needed the masculine praise, only now she didn't have to worry about paying the rent based on how good a girl she was and if anything she became even more wild.
Cynthia was 16 when we moved into the new house and had grown into a beautiful young woman. Pale blond hair that curled softly below her shoulders, vibrant blue eyes, peaches and cream skin that I knew was like silk to the touch, rose bud lips, she stood at 5'4 and had a curvy figure any woman would envy. Gentle by nature she was still shy around strangers but had enough spirit not to let our mother's catty remarks get to her. Though Cynthia rarely saw her own beauty she understood our mother felt threatened by her and forgave her her cruelty when few others would. She learned to avoid our mother and to remain quiet when in her presence so as not to draw any unnecessary attention to herself when Mother was around. Unfortunately that shyness extended outside the house as well and she had few friends and even fewer boyfriends. She went on the occasional date, mostly to special occasions like school dances, but for the most part her free time was spent with me, my own social life placed on the back burner for Cynthia's sake.
She had a brilliant mind and our evenings were often spent focused on her schoolwork. I was insistent that she get good marks and have the same education and opportunities that I had had and I made something of a stern task master. I was protective as well, maybe overly so, but Cynthia never questioned my authority, never challenged me, as if my governance of her was to be expected. I was big brother and father figure all rolled into one. I loved her though, dearly, and she knew that. I made sure she never doubted it. We were all we had in the world, really, and I would do anything to keep her safe and provide for her.
She had just turned 18 and was a couple months away from graduation when she began dating a boy from her school, Jeremy. He was a nice enough boy and seemed to accept Cynthia's more reserved nature. It was all very exciting for her, her first boyfriend, and though she never said it I knew she was self-conscious being so inexperienced at her age. From watching our Mother she had never really developed an interest in boys as a younger girl and I knew deep down she didn't want to turn out like her. I appreciated this about her, knew she was level headed and responsible, and trusted her instincts. Like any parent, or surrogate parent, I had to accept that she was growing up and finding her own life.
I didn't like it though. In fact, I hated it.
I suddenly had more free time than I had ever had and was left with finding ways to fill that time. I had always made a point of keeping in shape, weight training actually provided a wonderful way for me to de-stress so I didn't carry any negativity from my hectic day home with me, but now I was spending four or more nights a week at the gym rather than the two or three I had spent before. My already solid frame began to take on more definition and though I had never lacked in confidence I was pleased with the results. I knew I was a good looking man. I wasn't arrogant but I wasn't one of those people who feel the need to put themselves down in order to gain a complement. While Cynthia took after our mother I had been told I looked like my father. He may have been an asshole but he had given me decent genes. At 6'2 with ink black hair, hazel eyes, and skin that always looked as if it were lightly tanned I knew I cut a striking figure.
With all this free time I even started dating. Though I had never lacked for casual feminine companionship I made it clear to all the women who came into my life that my family was my priority and I could not, and would not, put them on the back burner for anyone. Some accepted this, some didn't, but I never really cared either way. Logically I knew Cynthia was growing up and wouldn't need me as she once had, but I still approached my dating life the same way, no woman ever managing to interest me enough to abandon that mind set. Though I enjoyed their company I knew they were just a substitute for Cynthia. I missed her and the evenings we would spend together but I would never say anything to her about it. No matter how much I longed too. She was my sister. I couldn't keep her with me forever. Could I?
It was early spring and Cynthia's graduation was a few weeks away when I arrived home late one evening from the gym. Work had run later than usual which resulted in my spending more time in the gym than I normally did in an attempt to rid myself of the annoyance of my day. The house was silent when I entered and I knew that meant Mother was off on another of her "dates". I refused to indulge her needless spending so she had continued to live much the same lifestyle as she had before. We had developed something of a "stay out of my way and I will stay out of yours" relationship. It was Friday so I knew it was a possibility that Cynthia was out with Jeremy and when I didn't hear the television or radio I assumed that was the case and headed upstairs to shower and change. As I reached the top of the stairs I began to turn left towards the master suite when I realized the light was on in Cynthia's bedroom and I could hear muffled voices coming from within.
Common sense told me Cynthia was in there with Jeremy and that I should respect her space and go to my own room but instinct drove me forward until I was standing just outside her door. It hadn't latched properly and was open a crack of perhaps two or three inches. I wouldn't have been able to see much at all if not for the oval vanity mirror that reflected the image of Cynthia sitting on the edge of her bed with Jeremy perfectly. They were kissing and I could clearly see Jeremy's hand slip beneath the hem of the white sun-dress she wore. Anger swelled instantly and I had to struggle with the urge to throw the door open and pummel the little prick into the ground but part of me also wanted to see how Cynthia would handle his advances. Were they already having sex? Just the thought of my sweet little Cyn letting another man put his hands on her was enough to make me crazy but I didn't have enough time to analyze the improper nature of my reaction as Cynthia chose that moment to push Jeremy's hand away, her soft voice admonishing him to stop.
Smiling in grim satisfaction I could hear his frustrated voice asking what he had done wrong, why she wouldn't let him touch her when they had been dating as long as they had. To his credit he wasn't pushy about it but the fact that he was trying so hard to get her to give in only fueled my anger and I realized with a moment of sudden clarity that I was jealous. That I didn't want another man in Cynthia's life and it wasn't just because we were so close and I would miss her. It was because in my heart of hearts I had always considered her mine and right or wrong I still did. Cynthia had turned away from him, sitting on the edge of the bed with her back to him, her soft blonde curls partially hiding her reflected face from view but I could still see how she struggled with her next words.
"I'm sorry Jeremy. You've been so patient with me. I know it's not fair but I'm still not quite ready. Unless..." I saw her mentally gather up her courage, her eyes shutting tightly against whatever reaction he would have to what she was about to say. "Unless you wanted to force me."
I was shocked. So shocked in fact that I almost forgot that I was supposed to be spying and nearly exclaimed my surprise vocally. Cynthia, my sweet angelic shy little sister, wanted to be forced? I had known women who enjoyed the whole non consent fantasy. It wasn't rape, it was a fantasy, and I understood the difference clearly. I had no problem with the fantasy and had indulged several of my past lovers in a little forced play from time to time. It was sexy as hell but I would never have guessed that Cynthia would be one of those women and I couldn't help but wonder what had caused her to develop this desire. It was true she was shy and often reserved so perhaps she craved this as a means of being released from those bonds, or perhaps she was just submissive by nature. It would certainly make sense.
Jeremy managed to snap out of his stunned silence more quickly than I did and while I stood there analyzing Cynthia's bombshell his face had twisted into a mask of disgust. "Are you serious, Cindy? Do you think I'm some kind of sick pervert who can only get off on raping a chick?" His voice was becoming angry and I wondered if her request hadn't hit a little too close to Jeremy's own fantasies, the flicker of guilt I could see in his eyes a dead give away. I might have felt sorry for the conflicted boy if not for the look of utter humiliation on Cynthia's face as she struggled to maintain her composure in the face of his condemnation.
My anger returned tenfold and without hesitation I stepped back a bit and rapped sharply on the door. I could hear their startled gasps and the door was quickly snatched open by Cynthia. Her horrified gaze met mine and she knew in an instant that I had heard everything that had just happened. Looking past her to the boy who still sat on her bed I let my anger and disdain show plainly in my face, my voice sounding cold and harsh even to my own ears. "I think it's time for Jeremy to go home, Cynthia. Escort him out, please."
Jeremy was off the bed like a shot and coming towards the door. At the last minute I stepped to the side so he could pass, the desire to punch the shit out of him so strong my hands actually clenched into fists at my side. Cynthia noticed this and assumed my anger was because of her and as she followed Jeremy out I could see her eyes were glassy with tears she refused to shed. "Come right back upstairs Cynthia. We need to talk," I said quietly as she passed me. She simply nodded, her head down with eyes fixed firmly to the floor. I hated seeing her so upset but my emotions were riding high and I wasn't sure what I was going to say to her when she came back upstairs. Anger, jealousy, possessiveness; all of these emotions vied for dominance within me and underlying it all was the revelation that my innocent little sister had fantasies of being forced. More important than any of that though was the realization that I wanted her for myself. The potential ramifications for acting on what I wanted could be devastating, but I knew what I wanted and in the midst of my conflicting emotions I couldn't think of any good reason not to take what I wanted. Especially when I knew I could give her what she wanted.
I had no idea what I was going or do when she returned. I didn't plan any of what happened next. She must have practically thrown him out the door because she was walking back into her room in minutes. She began to apologize almost instantly, her sweet face distraught as the tears threatened to fall in spite of her best efforts to contain them.
"I'm so sorry Marcus. This is so humiliating! You must be so disappointed in me."
I remained silent as she spoke, my eyes traveling possessively down her body until her voice came to a stop. When my eyes again met hers she didn't seem to notice the new way I looked at her, to caught up in her own emotional distress to see that something had changed between us. I considered my response carefully but nothing I could say to her sounded right, no words could accurately convey exactly what I was feeling at that moment. Acting purely on instinct I decided to let my actions speak for me. I don't remember moving but suddenly I was standing in front of her, her expressive face revealing her surprise as my hands rose and cupped her face. I gave her no opportunity to protest before I was pulling her towards her, my lips claiming hers with a need I had never felt for another woman.
She stiffened in surprise but I didn't stop. She wasn't actually protesting nor was she trying to get free. It was then I knew I was going to fulfill her fantasy, at least in part. My lips remained on hers, growing more aggressive as my tongue forced her lips to part for me, my hands sliding down her bare arms until I had encircled each of her wrists with my hands. I was careful not to hurt her but I tightened my grip on her enough that she couldn't pull away from me and using that grip I pushed her back until she collided with the wall. Her cry of surprise was muffled by my lips as I deepened the kiss, my tongue delving into her mouth, coaxing her own tongue to mimic the action. Still gripping her wrists I pulled her arms over her head until I could capture both wrists in my left before pinning her wrists to the wall. I made sure I didn't pull her arms so far above her that she would be in pain but my grip was firm and she knew there was no pulling free.
As if realizing how vulnerable she was Cynthia finally pulled her lips free, her blue eyes wide with surprise and confusion as she looked up at me. "Marcus ... wh ... what are you doing?" I could read her confusion clearly but beneath that was a flicker of excitement and seeing that I smiled down at her, my body pressing into her's until she was trapped between me and the wall, her soft form molding perfectly to my harder frame until my cock hardened painfully, something she could no doubt feel pressed against her abdomen given how closely we were pressed together.
"I'm giving you what you want, sweet Cyn. This is what you want baby ... I heard you myself."
Her eyes grew even wider, if such a thing were possible, as I confirmed that I had heard everything she had said to Jeremy, her own words of wanting to be forced coming back to her. I studied her face intently in those moments, searching for her reaction to what was about to happen. I would never actually hurt my sister and I needed to know if that initial spark of excitement I had seen in her was real or just imagined on my part. She tried to pull her wrists free, giving several experimental tugs as if gauging how serious I was about holding her there, her heavier breathing drawing my attention to her full breasts as they rose and fell quickly beneath the thin material of her sundress. Looking to her parted lips I saw her tongue dart out to nervously lick at the soft flesh and I nearly moaned in response.
"We can't Marcus. I'm your little sister..."
She whispered her denial, her sweet voice wavering slightly and I knew that regardless of her arousal, or potential lack thereof, she was nervous about what was happening between us. To be honest I was too but I wanted her and I was going to make her want me too. Drawing my gaze from her breasts I met her eyes, the confusion, fear, and excitement all mingling in the deep blue depths. Leaning down I again claimed her lips, my tongue pushing past her the sweet folds to ravish her mouth. Her hands began to tug more forcefully against the grip I held on her wrists but I only tightened my fingers and continued to kiss her, a kiss which after a brief hesitation she began to return with a fervor I might not have expected from my typically shy little sister had I not heard her whispered fantasy to her now ex-boyfriend. There was no way I was letting that little punk touch her ever again.
I moaned as her tongue began to swirl around mine, her lips parting beneath his eagerly now, and no longer content with just her lips. Moving my right hand down her body it came to rest on her upper thigh, my fingers gathering up the skirt of her dress until I felt bare skin beneath my touch. Sliding my hand between her thighs I caressed up her silken skin until my fingers met the barrier of her white lace panties. I pressed my fingers into the warmth of her pussy and she squealed against my lips, her body arching against mine as she tried to free herself, her arms struggling to pull free, yet as I pressed between the lips of her slit I could feel her panties becoming moist with her excitement and pushing the fabric roughly aside I forced my fingers between the wet lips of her pussy and found her clit.
Her muffled squeal became a full scream as I began to rug her swollen clit, her body writhing between my body and the wall though the line between her trying to get away and get off became even more blurred until she could barely maintain the pretense that she didn't want what I was doing to her. She was so wet and the moist sound of my fingers as they played with her clit mingled with the muffled moans she tried to hide against my lips. Finally my mouth slid away down to her neck and I kissed the tender flesh as her lips gasped for air, a whimper that conveyed her mounting arousal and confusion the first sound to come from her mouth once it was freed of my ravishing tongue.
"M ... Marcus ... this is wrong..." she protested yet again, almost as if she were doing so out of a sense of obligation. I knew my little sister better than anyone. I had practically raised her and I could tell when she wasn't sure about something, when she wasn't being totally honest with herself. I could feel her inner struggle, the way her hips would arch against my fingers when I pinched the throbbing flesh of her clit before she jerked away as if scalded, once again trying to keep her body out of my reach. Raising my head I met her wide eyed stare, her lips parted as she tried to breathe normally, tried to hide the fact that she wanted to part her thighs for my fingers, wanted to fuck my hand. I could see it all past the fear, past the confusion, and slowly I smiled, the same dogged determination that had made me a formidable success in the business world making me just as relentless in this situation. When I wanted something, I got it.
"Alright Cyn ... If you truly wish me to stop, I'll make you a deal. For the next ten minutes I will play with your body as I please. If you can resist cumming during those ten minutes then I will leave and I will never touch you like this again. If you do cum though ... then you will belong to me. Deal?"
Often while she was growing up I had made bargains like this with her to get her to do things she didn't really want to do. Usually the bargain was stacked in my favor just as it was now, but it had always worked in the past. Her teeth bit into her bottom lip and my cock jumped in response. I could see the indecision in her eyes and knew her well enough to see the desire to accept just beneath her doubt and my smile widened a moment before my head dipped back down to kiss at her neck again. I had found a spot just beneath her ear that made her shiver and I played on it mercilessly, my tongue flicking across the flesh as my fingers leisurely explored her pussy as I had yet to stop toying with her wet slit.
"Keep in mind baby ... that this is your only chance. If you decline I'll just keep doing what I was doing and you'll cum whether you want to or not. This is your only chance to get me to stop..."
I emphasized my final word by gently pinching her clit, my fingers encircling the throbbing flesh as her thighs tightened around my hand, a cry that could so easily have become a moan tearing from her lips almost against her will. I continued to kiss her neck, my lips trailing up along her jawline until they were again hovering over her lips. Gently I brushed my lips against hers, a soft tender kiss, so unlike the first few, and I felt her shiver. I knew deep down that she would respond, that I would make her cum so hard her eyes would cross and she would love it, but I had to be sure and I also wanted to give her her fantasy ... her fantasy of being forced. A fantasy I found sexy as hell and was only too happy to indulge.
"Um ... okay ... I accept," she finally agreed, uncertainty lacing her voice though whether it was uncertainty about letting me continue or possibly having me stop I couldn't really tell and honestly didn't care. She had agreed and I was going to stake my claim one way or the other.
Smiling slowly at her reluctant acquiescence I nodded before easing my hand from between her legs. The look on her face was priceless, confusion mingled with physical frustration as I left her pussy aching and wanting. I knew she wanted to question my actions but she had given me free reign for ten minutes and I intended to make use of every second if that time. Glancing to the clock I could see it was 10:01pm and I made note of it. By 10:11 I had to make her cum or give her up forever. I knew I couldn't do that and returning my gaze to her I was struck with sudden inspiration.
At the top of her door was a metal hook for hanging clothing from. Along with her coat was a sheer pink scarf I had seen her wearing on her way out the door earlier in the day. With my free hand I reached up and gripped the end of the silk garment and before she realized what I was doing I had moved my hand from her wrists and was binding them with the scarf before reaching over her head and tying off the other end on the metal hook. She was bound tightly enough that it would require more than just a tug to get free but in all of it I was still careful not to harm her skin.
A quick time check announced it was 10:03. Eight minutes.
I felt her shifting, her hands reflexively tugging at the scarf as if testing her new restraints. Meeting her wide blue eyes I smiled at the anxiety mingling with excitement within her and easing my hands up behind her neck I untied the small knot that held her halter style sun dress in place and drew them down before my left hand slid behind her to grip the metal of her zipper before drawing it slowly down, the sound of her dress being undone punctuating the electrified silence that blanketed us. Taking hold of the skirt of her dress I tugged and it slid down her body to reveal she wore no bra beneath when her breasts finally came into view.
My mouth went dry at the sight of her. Her breasts were full but not obscenely large, a beautiful C cup with rosy pink nipples that just begged for my mouth. Giving in to the impulse (as seemed to be the norm for me this evening) I dipped my head low enough to capture her left nipple between my lips. Her strangled gasp only encouraged my actions and I quickly trailed my tongue around her hardening nipple until the flesh was hard and throbbing between my lips. Gripping her dress I pulled it down the rest of the way until it fell to the floor to pool around her ankles leaving her bare save for the white lace panties she wore beneath.
I knew she was trying to resist what my mouth was doing to her but as I continued to lave her nipple with my tongue I could feel her body moving instinctively towards me, her back arching ever so slightly so that her breasts pressed more forcefully to my lips. Capturing the flesh with my teeth I began sucking on the engorged flesh, my right hand rising to cup and fondle her free breast.
"M ... Marcus ... what are you doing?"
Hearing her tentative voice speak as she tried to hide her growing arousal was enough to have my lips releasing her flesh so my head could rise enough to meet her gaze. Grinning at the question she had already asked me once I glanced to the clock. 10:06. Five minutes. Realizing time was growing short I again met her gaze, the intensity of my own taking her aback just a bit.
"Whatever I want for the next five minutes as per our agreement."
Without further comment I slowly fell to my knees in front of her. I had only five minutes left to enjoy her body and if she won, if she managed to resist me enough to refrain from cumming, this would be the last chance I had to taste her. With that thought in my mind my eyes fixed on her white silk covered pussy with single minded determination and reaching up I gripped the edges of her panties and pulled them roughly down her legs, her gasp of surprise and embarrassment at being so abruptly exposed to me ignored as I fixed my hungry gaze to her bare pussy. I was by no means inexperienced but I wasn't expecting my presumed innocent baby sister to be shaved completely bare. Usually I preferred women to look more mature, or so I thought, but as I gazed at her swollen and wet slit I moaned with a hunger I had never felt before for any woman.
Time was running out and I had to make her cum if for no other reason than I knew I would be incapable of keeping my word. Whether she came or not I was never going to be able to let her go now and I would rather she be mine willingly in the end. I wanted her to want me as much as I now wanted her. 10:07. Four minutes. Leaning forward my left hand reached out to grip her right ankle and sliding my fingers up her calf I gripped her knee and drew it up until I could hang her limb over my shoulder. My left hand slid beneath her ass as I trailed my right index finger up the length of her pussy, the shiver that covered her skin only serving to feed my need to take her.
I dearly wanted go slowly and savor her but I knew time was an issue. Besides, if I succeeded I would have plenty of opportunity to enjoy her body at my leisure. With the clock ticking I was a man possessed as I leaned into her, my tongue following the same path as my finger until I reached the top of her slit and pushed my tongue past her swollen lips to find her clit. The strangled gasp of both surprise and pleasure that came from my baby sister's lips was gratifying and fed the possessive need that drove me to consume her, my cock throbbing painfully in time with the throbbing of her clit against my tongue as I teased her.
I could feel her trying to resist, trying to keep from crying out and showing me just how much she liked my tongue in her pussy, but with every lick her muffled cries got louder until she was moaning in spite of herself. Her body trembled with the force of the passion I was forcing on her as she tried to keep her body from moving, from revealing just how much she wanted me to tongue fuck her, but as I sucked her clit between my lips her hips arched involuntarily towards my mouth, pressing her pussy against my face, the leg draped over my shoulder tightening against my back as if trying to draw me closer. She was so sweet on my tongue, like butterscotch, and I moaned against her lips, the sound vibrating against her clit causing her to whimper at the sensation.
As my tongue continued to circle her clit I slid my left hand from beneath her ass, her leg over my shoulder keeping her spread and pressed to my lips, and caressing her slit I slowly eased my index finger into her wet pussy. She was so tight I had to work my finger into her until it pressed against the fleshy barrier that told me she was still a virgin. I growled at the proof of her innocence, my finger sliding out of her pussy only to thrust back into her as I began fucking her with my hand as well as with my tongue. She was beyond trying to pretend she wasn't enjoying it, beyond feigning resistance, and her hips rolled against mine in a sensual rhythm that nearly had me cumming then and there.
Her cries became louder and louder making me grateful that our mother was out for the evening and her pussy tightened so forcefully on my finger that I knew she was about to cum and I sucked at her clit hard as my tongue laved the swollen flesh, my finger thrusting into her one last time as her orgasm crashed over her writhing body. Her voice screamed her release as she arched her hips against my mouth, grinding her pussy on my lips, tongue, and finger wantonly. My tongue lapped at her pussy hungrily as my finger fucked into her over and over as she came, forcing her orgasm to last as long as I possibly could as her pussy milked the digit as if her body were silently pleading for a cock in its place.
Eventually she began to calm, the movements of her body slowing until she was slumped against the door, the single foot still on the floor barely enough to support her weight if not for my body pressing to her as tightly as it was. Slowly I eased my finger from her and placed a soft kiss to her swollen and wet pussy, a soft whimper my reward for teasing the overly sensitive flesh. Drawing back I gently lowered her leg back to the floor and made sure she could stand before I rose to my feet in front of her, my face and hand soaked with the moisture from her pussy.
She was leaning back against the door, her eyes partially closed in a post orgasmic haze as her breasts rose and fell rapidly as she tried to catch her breath, her skin flushed with excitement. She was beautiful, absolutely gorgeous, and I was utterly entranced by the sight of her. Reaching up to untie her hands I let my eyes drift to the clock to check the time and slowly I grinned before letting my eyes return to lock with hers. I knew she had looked at the clock and had seen the time as well.
She was all mine.