Sis and Wife’s Sis Need My Help
Copyright© 2026 by WildcatF4F
Chapter 12: Sis’s Quandary of Her Own Creation
Incest Sex Story: Chapter 12: Sis’s Quandary of Her Own Creation - This is a light-hearted saga beginning in the early 1960s about a couple madly in love and their good friend. Although the couple has to deal with their sexuality early on, they become comfortable with each other's sex and love. The husband is called upon to help his sister and his wife's sister with their sexual deficiencies.
Caution: This Incest Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Romantic Heterosexual Fiction Humor Incest Brother Sister InLaws Masturbation Oral Sex Tit-Fucking
Brother to the Rescue
Rita and I nodded like two idiots who’d just been asked if we wanted free candy.
Liza took a deep breath and dropped the bomb: “You’re going to find this hard to believe, but ... I’m still a virgin.”
I nearly spit out my drink. “Sis, you’re over sixty! You’ve dated half the planet — always those GQ-model pretty boys with perfect hair and useless personalities. There’s no way you never had sex with any of them.”
“Oh, I’ve done plenty,” she said casually. “Since college, I’ve given more hand-jobs than I can count. I’ve sucked off at least two dozen guys. I’ve had my pussy eaten so many times it should have frequent-flyer miles. I’ve eaten a few pussies myself, shoved dildos of every shape and size up my cooze, and taken real dick in my ass more than once. But I’ve never — not once — let a man put his penis in my vagina.”
Rita raised an eyebrow, already grinning. “So I’m guessing you’re about to ask if you can borrow my husband to finally get deflowered?”
“Yes,” Liza said sweetly. “I’ve never met another man I’d rather have my first real fuck with than my own little brother.”
Rita shrugged like she was offering someone the last slice of pizza. “Okay, he fucked my sister, so I guess he should bet a hall pass to fuck his own.”
Liza looked puzzled about that revelation, but let it pass for the time being.
Rita grinned and said, “y’all have at it. I’ll just sit here and watch. Popcorn optional.”
Liza and I looked at each other. I offered my hand like I was leading her to the dance floor. We walked over to the new chaise lounge and started kissing — our first real kiss in over thirty-five years. What began as nostalgic quickly turned into full-on, hungry make-out territory. I lay on top of her, dry-humping like a horny teenager while feeling up her tits through her low-cut cocktail dress. No bra. Bold choice.She rolled me over, rubbed my dick through my trousers, and our tongues went to war. Rita was clearly getting bored watching us osculate like it was 1987, but the kissing felt so damn good and brought back a flood of filthy memories.
Liza finally slipped out of her dress. Her tits weren’t as big as Rita’s or Gloria’s, but they were impressively firm. Big areolas, nipples the size of new pencil erasers. I peeled off her black bikini panties — her pussy was baby-smooth, probably waxed yesterday just for this occasion. I stripped too, popping a couple buttons off my shirt in my haste like a bad romance novel cover.