Visiting Kitty
Copyright© 2026 by Deckhard
Chapter 3
Incest Sex Story: Chapter 3 - A young man visits his beautiful older sister.
Caution: This Incest Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Incest Brother Sister
I woke up in the middle of the night. Kitty wasn’t beside me. Not curled up, not tangled in sheets, not anywhere to be found in the bedroom.
The air was still warm from our bodies. My skin smelled like her.
I stepped out and walked toward the kitchen, groggy and naked, my feet silent on the hardwood.
That’s when I saw her.
She was sitting in the window nook, lit by moonlight and nothing else. A bed sheet was draped loosely over her lower body, barely covering her hips. Her upper body was bare. Her shoulders hunched. She was facing me, smoking a cigarette ... and there were tears in her eyes.
I froze.
“I ... I didn’t know you smoked,” I said, voice low. My cock twitched at the sight of her. She looked so beautiful, broken, glowing in the dark. And just like that, sadness filled my chest.
“I don’t smoke,” she murmured. “Don’t you go tattle-telling to Mom and Dad on me.”
A tear slipped down her cheek.
“Oh come on, Kitty,” I said, stepping closer.
“Come on Kitty what?” she snapped, voice cracking. “I took my little brother to a bar, got him drunk, then I took him to bed and I...”
She broke into soft sobbing.
“What?” I said. “You made me do things? I’m an adult ... if you haven’t noticed.” I pointed at my now fully hard cock. “You didn’t seduce me. Actually you did. But I wanted you.”
She looked at me, then laughed bitterly. “That’s obvious.”
We both laughed quietly.
“The problem is ... Tommy, that I want to do even more,” she said, pausing to draw slowly on her cigarette. After a cloudy exhale from her delicate nostrils, she continued, “I want to do so much more with you.”
“Let’s do more then,” I sighed. “For me it’s an easy decision.”
I walked over to her. She didn’t move. I leaned down to kiss her.
“I ... my mouth tastes like...” she said, holding her cigarette as far from me as possible.
I kissed her anyway. Deeply. I tasted her—smoke, her salty tears. Then I pulled back and smiled.
“Your mouth tastes like nothing I’ve ever tasted in my life.”
“An ashtray?” she asked.
“Oh come on, Kitty.”
“Sorry. I know you’re trying to be romantic and I’m ruining it.”
I kissed her again. This time, we both melted into each other.
She stubbed her cigarette in a shot glass, then grabbed onto my bulging triceps as I planted my palms on the surface of the cushioned nook bench on either side of her. Then I positioned myself right between her legs, my engorged cock pointing directly at the opening of my big sister’s luscious pussy. She wrapped her legs around me just as I tried to flush my throbbing head with her opening. Her eyes met mine.
“Oh God,” she sighed. “You are so fucking beautiful. You’re perfect.”
Mark had never been a good-looking man. He was a bad boy, and Kitty had been drawn to the rebellion in him. Her colorful tattoos were proof of that. They were little declarations of defiance against the conservative family we were raised in. She’d only ever been with Mark. And I’m not bragging when I say I was an upgrade in every way.
I flushed my cock with the wet opening of her pussy folds. Without looking, she placed two fingers on top of my throbbing tip and nudged it in.
As I entered her, we both sighed deeply. Her warm wetness and tight grip were overwhelming. With the backs of her heels pressed to my hips, she kicked gently, pulling me deeper inside her.
“Oh wow,” I let out a shaky breath and chuckled nervously.
“Wow?” she purred, melodic and teasing. “God ... so much more than wow. Do you have any idea how fucking wow you feel inside me?”
“Yes,” I laughed, burying myself down to the hilt inside her gripping heat.
“Doofus,” she laughed, then moaned hotly.
Her right pussy gripped my thickness, flexed and unflexed rapidly and tightly a few times, and then suddenly...
Her fingers dug into my triceps, tight and trembling. “Oh Jesus, baby bro ... I’m gonna come!”
I stopped moving. She looked high on lust with her eyes half-lidded, head thrashing side to side, lips pursed, hips bucking against me. Her love muscles convulsed around my cock, gripping, pulsing. Her breath came ragged, her moans turned to grunts and groans. Then I felt it. She sprayed my crotch and thighs with a sudden torrent of release, warm and sticky.
I waited patiently for her orgasm to subside.
She looked at me expectantly, then laughed that melodic, breathless laugh.
“Oh, you ... such a beautiful man. Your cock is still hard,” she said.
“Well,” I laughed. “I haven’t come yet.”
“Then what are you waiting for?” she teased, her voice airy and wrecked. “Start moving. I want you to fill me up. Fuck me. Fuck your sister.”
I couldn’t say no to such a heartfelt request from my beautiful sister. She was my first crush, the girl I started to love before I could even speak or crawl. She looked flushed, sweaty, and so devastatingly beautiful.
“Come on, big boy,” she encouraged. “Give it to me hard. Fuck your sister.”
I did. I pulled back slowly, then gave her my firmest, most powerful strokes.
“You’re killing me, little bro,” she almost shouted. “I—I’ve never been fucked like this. Oh ... I didn’t know how good it could feel.”
She exploded again—less intense, but longer, her body trembling beneath me.
“Jesus,” she laughed. “You can go on all night, right?”
“I can,” I laughed.
“Who knew little Tommy could fuck like a porn star?” she giggled, then kissed me.
“Okay,” I said, breath catching. “I’m not going to drag it on longer than you can handle. Give me a couple of minutes and I’ll come.”
“Thank you, Cock-man,” she laughed, but then her laughter turned to loud moans as I started to deliver powerful thrusts into her.
“God damnit,” she shouted, straining and tightening herself around my girth. “This is fucking ... heaven.”
And then we both climaxed simultaneously. I spilled my warm seed inside my own sister’s womb. We kissed and rubbed our foreheads, noses, lips together. We laughed breathlessly as I pulled back and out of her.
I helped her up and walked her to the kitchen. She sat down in a chair, legs trembling, her breath still uneven. I took a towel, held it under lukewarm water, wrung it out gently, then knelt beside her and handed it over.
She looked at me, voice trembling. “I can’t even hold the towel. You do it. Clean me up, please.”
I nodded, heart thudding, and leaned in.
I started with her slick, trembling inner thighs. I wiped slowly, reverently, tracing the warm trails of our mingled fluids. Her pubic hair was damp and golden, glistening with streaks of white and clear. I dabbed gently, then parted her folds with my fingers, careful and slow. She gasped softly as I cleaned the wet heat between them, the towel warm and tender against her swollen skin.
She didn’t look away. Her eyes stayed locked on mine, wide and shining.