Chapter 1

Leah was three fingers deep in her own cunt, stretched back on the unmade bed, her swollen belly rising like a pale hill under the thin tank top she’d yanked up over her tits. The house was quiet except for her own slick, squelching rhythm, the wet noise of a horny pregnant woman with nothing better to do on a Thursday afternoon. Her clit was hard as a pebble under the pad of her thumb, her thighs glazed with slick, and the pressure low in her gut was just starting to coil into something useful when the front door banged open and her sister’s voice cut through the house like a blade.

“Leah! The door wasn’t even locked. You’re lucky I’m not some random pervert.”

Lynn didn’t knock. She never did. Leah heard boots in the hallway, then the bedroom door swung wide. She didn’t even try to cover herself — she couldn’t, not really, with her fingers still buried knuckle-deep and her other hand trembling against the top of her mound. Lynn stood in the doorway, one hip cocked, phone already in her hand.

“Christ, look at you,” Lynn said, and there was no shock in her voice, only that familiar edge of disgust that somehow always made Leah’s pulse jump. “Pregnant and still can’t keep your hand out of your slutty cunt. Is that all you do now? Lie here and stuff yourself like a cheap whore?”

Leah’s face went hot, but her pussy clenched around her own fingers. She should have been ashamed. Instead she spread her legs wider, letting her sister see everything — the dark pink slit, the shine of her juices, the way her pulse beat visibly in her swollen clit.

“I was just—” Leah started.

“Shut up.” Lynn crossed the room, thumb gliding across her phone screen. A small red dot appeared in the corner. “You want to act like a whore, I’ll treat you like one.” She climbed onto the bed, planted one knee between Leah’s spread legs, and swung her other leg over Leah’s face, her black denim skirt riding up to show the damp gusset of her panties. “Go on. Since you’re so fucking hungry for it. Lick.”

Leah’s mouth was already watering. She lifted her head, nosed against the cotton, inhaled the hot, briny smell of her sister’s cunt. “Lynn, I—”

A hand fisted in her hair, yanking her up until her lips smeared against the wet fabric. “I said lick, you dumb pregnant slut. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

So Leah licked. She dragged her tongue up the soaked cotton, felt the shape of Lynn’s lips through the fabric, the hard nub of her clit pressing against her tongue’s tip. Lynn’s hips rolled down, grinding against her face, and Leah moaned into the heat of it, her own fingers forgotten, her cunt still pulsing, still dripping onto the sheets.

“Getting off on this, aren’t you?” Lynn’s voice had gone thick, but the cruelty in it only sharpened. “Degenerate. Licking your own sister’s pussy while my phone gets every second of it. You want to come so bad you can’t even breathe thinking about it.” She pulled the panties to the side, and then it was bare flesh against Leah’s tongue — the slick, pink folds, the swollen bud, the familiar, forbidden taste of her own blood. “Put that pretty mouth to work. Earn it.”

Lynn filmed everything. She found the angle, held the phone steady, narrated as if the camera was her only real audience. “Look at this needy little bitch. Sobbing into my cunt like it’s the only meal she’ll get.” She ground down harder, smearing herself across Leah’s open, gasping mouth. “You want more, don’t you? Want my strap on? Want me to fuck that used-up hole until you scream?”

Leah nodded, her whole body shaking, but Lynn just laughed. “Say it. Beg for it, you pathetic whore. Tell me how much you need your own sister’s cock inside you.”