Tag: incest

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Familial Cohesion

PS; I’m a father in my late fifties now, with a devoted wife, and a daughter that has long outgrown our control, but not in the dramatic way. Just.. her on her own schedule. My English is not superb and getting incoherent so my train of thoughts might bring some unnecessary details into this story.

After my daughter turned 15(?), my wife and I had kind of let her went on her own. With basic safety nets in place, she had freedom to hang out with whomever, for however late, and spent within the limits we gave. Yet, she mostly stuck to the routines we had around the house, although there was absolutely nothing wrong about that. Simple, mundane activities like breakfast together, occasional texts throughout the day, and being home at around dinner time. My wife and I were partly relieved that she felt comfortable around us, but also knew how she could ‘rebel’ more for a girl her age.

Things were mainly fine even through the phase when we stumbled upon her ‘self-love’ moments, since there was nothing unnatural or unhealthy about that. We knew that a girl has to become a woman at some point. The three of us then spoke openly about being ‘discreet’, and life went on until years later when she asked to speak to me, as a teen girl to a grown man.

I remembered almost everything my girl said to me, because it was that impactful. It was a long conversation, but I never dodged any questions. She had ust wanted to know, if it was normal to fantasise about someone, even though he was way older and definitely impossible to be with. Well, how else would I answer that? You know, as a guy (amongst being a husband and father), there were countless.. ehem idols and.. imaginary situations that were occasionally unspeakable.. along with close calls, that we (I mean we guys!) sometimes get inspirations from.

Of course it was normal! And totally acceptable, because of how unlikely we will be with the one(s) we get hard for. That conversation went positively smooth, and she was clearly in a better mood after.

It wasn’t until many years later, when she was overseas on her yearly trip with her friends, did I understand what she was hinting at. Because of her long absence, it was routine for me to air her room for a few hours every few days. And seeing a compact camera, along with a mini tripod on her bed, kind of set me off in a panic mode. How could she forget something so important for a holiday?!

I texted her my concern and she was suspiciously, excessively, dismissive. Like half being dismissive, and half being defensive, in between long period of inactivity in our chat.

(Her WhatsApp) ‘Dad? Please keep that camera very safe. I kind of made some videos of myself and its in there.’

(I replied) ‘Of course I will. Don’t worry about anything else. As long as you know that the camera is home, just enjoy the trip.’

Besides that camera and tripod, I kept the dildo and vibrator out of our conversation, because those are really out of my scope, nor concern.

(Her WhatsApp) ‘You can look through the camera. But don’t show it to anyone else, not even mom.’

(I replied) ‘I won’t. You’re not a baby anymore. And that’s for someone else to see.’

Without touching her bed and the belongings on it, I opened the windows and wiped and covered whatever surfaces that had dust, and was about the leave the room when her next message came.

(Her WhatsApp) ‘You’re the person I made the videos for.’

Was it ‘by the time you see this video’ kind of video? Or a sobbing tale about something she wanted to tell me but couldn’t? Or a self-improvement video she wished I had seen earlier to be a better dad? Or was it just harmless, selfie-porn that I was overthinking about?

It was the last. Almost 80GB of it, in 1080p, taken from a year ago when she received that camera as a birthday present. That 001 serial on the file told me enough. All of it was of her, professing her thanks, love, and lust for me, followed by some name calling, multiple orgasms, in full frontal, sometimes rear-doggy, angles that displayed the full glory of her shaven vagina.

I didn’t watch all of it, but some of all of it, simply because all the thumbnails always showed the ‘formal’ frame of her well-cared face as if she was going to say (and do) something different. Did I get a boner? Yes I did. Because every 10-minute-ish video started with a heart-warming recount of her affection for me. There were ‘thank yous’, the ‘do you remembers’, and ‘that time you’, some happening way back when she was very young, up till the day before she flew.

She returned five days later, and her hug felt extra tight. The kiss on my cheeks was the first I received in years, and her gaze into my eyes spelt ‘relief’. The days following her return, there were some hand-holding, arm-hugging, head-on-my-shoulder, and more kisses on my face. Then, came the kisses, that landed on my lips.

Pecks at first, then it lasted a second, then three, then too long. Her hands no longer stopped on my bulging belly, but went slightly lower – and lower. Soon, every lip kiss came with a gentle push on my groin.

My wife wasn’t home all the time, with groceries to buy and kakis to do yoga and Pilates with. And my unshapely figure limited all my workouts to the yoga mat our daughter got me. And things went out of hand during one of those days we, my daughter and I, were alone at home.

We hugged, and kissed, and stripped, just enough for our hands to touch where we were sensitive. The yoga mat became useful, as the gym ball which I balanced on while she sucked me off – the way she did to the dildo in her videos. We swapped places, and she spread her lower lips with two fingers, and moaned while I ate her out until her back was literally horizontal on the ball.

We changed positions next, with me seated on the mat while leaning on the ball, while she lowered herself over my dick. We kissed so much that time till the ball rolled away and she just herself crazy like in those bull-riding events. We were in that cow-girl pose when I came for the first time, inside the girl my wife birthed with my sperm. Sperm met sperm once more.

When she finally pulled away, I was still rock hard. And that gym ball came back into the picture for her to bend over. In doggy-style this time, I hammered her silly and kept loving my girl this way until she went silent, but was actually too overwhelmed by orgasms to make anymore noise. In this very position, I came a second time into her, and there were nowhere else for my load to go except back out her pussy that was brimming with a foam.

Like cheating spouses do, we cleaned everything up, and returned everything to its place. Following that day, her affection for me had kind of tapered down. No more hand-holding, no more arm-hugging, and no more kisses.

At least not in front of her mother who was completely clueless. Our physical intimacy remained intense and illogical, until the day she moved out, into the BTO she bought with her husband. Which after, we would only meet once every week for a ‘session’, in between every two weeks for a family dinner.

Many, many years have past since then, and things have changed a lot. Her work, pregnancy, and matrimonial duties, barely left us enough time for family dinners – apart from the frequent, normalised visits to each other’s places for a quickie to alleviate the stress of daily life.

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Tall Tale

FYI – I am a female, in my 30s, mentally stable and physically healthy. I have lived through an ‘epiphany’ that corrected my thoughts, so any long term damages were accounted for and corrected.

As much as I wished that this ‘story’ didn’t have to appear on an erotica site, I think putting it here would hopefully cast some doubts on the realism of what I am about to recall.

On the day my mother stormed out of the house, was the very night my dad made his move on me. I am not his step-child, I am not adopted. I was born to a very young mother, and I knew that from the way she dressed and stayed out late.

My dad was, and still is one of the kindest men I’ve ever met. He raised me right, despite how my mom treated him. According to him, he was already in his mid-thirties when he met my mom. She was about twelve years younger than him, but it was exactly his maturity and stability and discipline that led her to him. Being way younger than him, she was as expected, wilder an hornier than him. So she wanted it more frequently than his body could handle.

Eventually, after about 2 years of dating, they started doing it raw, and that was how I came about. Within 3 months, they got married, and moved into a home without taking on too much debt. Soon, I was born, and she received the best care he could provide to get her physical and mental health back to normal. From getting married, to giving birth, my mom had this group of friends that never left her side. My dad didn’t give too much thoughts about them too, since it was only right for girls to have their own click.

Years then passed, until I turned 13 and my mom, 38. I was about that age when started questioning the way my mom dressed, in skirts and dresses, with full make up, hanging out till late. And my dad always had good reasons for her. The late nights soon turn into staying out, and I could tell how my dad needed her occasional presence when he had to work a different shift. Being raised by a thinking and analytical dad, we managed to do it without my mother.

One day, she was awake earlier than the both of us, and dad kept me in my room while they spoke. Less than an hour later, I was let out of my room, just in time to see my mom shut the main door behind her. For the first time, I saw tears rolling down his face while he kept smiling.

And throughout the entire day, tears kept rolling, and I kept wiping. This, was a lesson he had once told to me – anyone can leave anyone for no reason, in pursue of their own happiness, no matter how much it would hurt others. That day, I didn’t ask him any questions about mom, and just stayed by his side while he did the chores.

At night, we just sat on the sofa in front of the TV, but only I was watching. Then, he asked me, ‘xxx, can I kiss you?’, using my Christian name. I nodded, and held his cheeks as he kissed my forehead, then my cheeks, and then my lips. It was my first kiss, so I could remember how soft, and wet they felt. Tears were coming even harder, at the same time his lips parted mine to stick his tongue out.

Not knowing what else to do, I just did the same, and his hands started squeezing my legs gently. He parted them, and continued moving upwards until he reached my panties. Then, a finger pushed against my pussy, and began vibrating. It felt more weird than uncomfortable. Next, he pushed my panties aside and placed his finger directly on my slit, and moved up and down.

My vision started fading white, and I found myself panting. My dress was lifted above my chest, and his mouth went over my nipple. For some reason, they were more sensitive than I had ever felt. Soon, his finger went deeper, and deeper until I felt ‘filled’, and ‘happy’. There was no pain, nor blood, just bliss.

We kissed so much that night, and when he finally laid me down on the sofa, my eyes were full of that man who loved me way more than my mom did, and cared more than any teachers did. He took his shorts off, and I looked at my first sight of a penis. It was large, and red. I asked if he was going to put it inside me, and he asked if he could.

I think I nodded.

He then slid it inside me very, very slowly, with our fingers interlocked as my thighs muscles twitched. My next memory of us were fuzzy, but I knew how much my body was jerking against the sofa. On the cushions, his hands were on my hips pushing me back and forth. I was just heaving and covering my mouth to suppress any weird noises I was making.

After what felt like an overwhelming roller coaster ride, he finally slowed down, and leaned down for a hard hug – at the same time my pussy felt a jet of hot liquid getting pumped into me. He came, and came lots, but it wasn’t until a few minutes later when he carried me up (sitting on his lap), and lifted me off, to truly comprehend how much he had cummed inside me. It felt like incontinence, but there was no way I could ‘hold’ that load inside me.

‘I’m sorry xxx.’

I didn’t know why he apologised, but I knew it helped him feel better. That night, we took a shower together again (after many years), and slept in his bed. I still didn’t know what we had done, but I was ready to sooth him if he needed it. I reached into his boxers again, and touched that organ that went inside me. After a few minutes of massage, he asked again, ‘can i put it inside you again?’

I think I nodded.

He put me into doggystyle this time and I felt a different kind of ‘happy’. It was more intense, though a little achey when he went all the way. My head was just shrouded in bliss and love and happiness for those few minutes he was thrusting his dick into me. When he finally slowed down, I knew what was coming, and I just dropped my chest onto the bed out of exhaustion, letting him fill me up again – lesser this time.

A routine was then formed, from the next night when I moved into his bedroom. He started licking me, then fucking me. Kissing me, then fucking me. Rubbing me, then fucking me. Outside the bedroom, I would start rubbing him, then ride him, kissing him, then bending over for him, hugging him, then spreading my legs for him.

Two years of that later, a lesson on biology awakened me. It’s bad to have sex with a blood-related person, but not wrong to do it with someone I love. That afternoon after I finished school, I went home, and told him about that lesson.

That weekend, on my request, he brought me to a women’s clinic, and funded a check up, along with an IUD.

Decades have passed, things have changed, and he might never know this, but he is the only man I would give everything to.

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Fucked Childhood

Fan note – When I read your latest story, it reminded myself of mine. Although vastly different from yours(?), I think it might also be considered an ‘alternate’ scenario? For clarification, I am a male.

This happened way back but a recent (condolence) meeting brought the three of us together again, and that situation couldn’t get anymore awkward. While most of us (guys) would see it as a ‘fortunate’ event, I was still consumed by the ick and twistedness of it even after many years had passed, all because it has somehow shaped my current ‘personality’.

For context, I was about 12 then, going into secondary school. I could remember my exact age it happened because I had to move accommodations to my uncle’s house which was closer. His family had 2 daughters (14 & 15) studying in that same school, and a spare bedroom. I was the second (of three) child in my family so it was kind of a relief for my parents.

His 2 daughters were typical ‘lians’, likely due to how little my aunty and uncle was home. Skirts a little too short, elastic bands at the hems of their blouse, and piercings that had to be hidden from all adults. As a new member to their household, they kept their distance at the beginning. Since I was in lower secondary, the workload and subjects were fairly few compared to the stuff they were going through. So I was mostly home, and was taught to clean and upkeep the household to show my gratitude for their kindness.

I was doing the same thing in my own home anyway. Sweeping, mopping, wiping – and doing laundry. I was no stranger to panties and bras, though I usually just leave them in a clean laundry basket for my mom to pack it herself. But at 13, I was obviously stunned by how tiny and.. colourful.. teenage panties could get. Although none of it was lace or see-through, most of them were thongs.

How could I not be ‘distracted’? Right?

Anyway, I did their laundry as I’ve always done it and kept my thoughts to myself. Another small but important fact, their parents both had to work. Dad in some kind of engineering job, and mom as a hawker stall assistant. So none of them would be home between 10am to 6pm. Anyway, I kept my distance from the sisters, and they had little or nothing to say to me – until that day.

One fine day, on a weekend, we happened to be in the living room together watching whatever was on the TV when Natalie, the older of them, asked me if I ever felt weird doing their laundry. And I explained that it was normal. Emily, the younger of them, then asked, if I had ever seen a woman’s part upclose, to which I replied, ‘only on the internet’.

I couldn’t remember how that conversation went but someone asked if they could see mine and she would show me hers in exchange. To my youngers self then, ‘just see see’ was as harmless as it sounded. I stood in front of them between the coffee table and sofa, and slowly pulled my shorts down (I didn’t wear an underwear because I was home).

They looked, and held it. One of them took a whiff, and got her head nudged onto my dick. Then, it got bigger, and bigger, until it was fully erect. ‘Wow.. ‘, was that one word I remembered. ‘Have you shoot before?’, someone asked. I nodded. ‘How?’, and I replied, ‘I moved my hand up and down.’

‘Like this?’, as the hand moved, my knees almost gave way. I had never imagined it to feel so much better for someone else to do it, and my face turned so red they kept commenting on it. Being my first ‘experience’ with someone else’s hand, I tapped out within 2 minutes. I remembered how it happened too. I was about to cover the tip of my dick when they used one hand each to hold my hands down, and continued to jerk me until cum squirted far out onto their legs.

Instead of being shocked, their eyes were locked onto my face as one of their hands kept going, until I begged them to stop. Embarrassed and lost, they kept me seated on the coffee table while they wiped the cum off themselves.

‘Who’s pussy do you want to see?’, I kept quiet to that question. ‘You! You show him yours’, Nat shoulder bumped Emily and they had a little girl-fight to get her shorts off. Once her bottom was freed, she raised her feet onto the sofa and opened her legs. Needless to say, my eyes were glued. Skinny thighs, almost skin-coloured pussy. It wasn’t only after I got older did I know that that was how a 15 year old pussy should look like – untouched.

Natalie then got up and moved me to sit between them. Reaching across my legs, she then grabbed one of my hand and dragged it to her sister’s groin, isolating my middle finger and shoved me into her sister’s hands. ‘You guide him la!’, she chided at Emily. Emily then brought that finger up her slit, and stopped at the top before I reached her belly.

‘Rub here’, she pushed my fingertip into the slit and I felt that little nub. Her face too, was flushing like mine. As my finger went on autopilot, my eyes remained on her shut-eyes-face. She was panting deeper, and her thighs were shivering harder. One of her hands were on my forearm, and her other was on my wrist, resisting slightly in case I hurt her.

Natalie was not sitting idle either. She reached over my leg and grabbed my dick once again, which had gotten hard due to the ongoing situation. It was that exact moment, the loop was finally closed. Something came over me then to brazenly place my free hand over her legs, parting them slowly until her feet was on the couch as well. I then found my way into those loose shorts of hers and did the same as my other hand.

The three of us just sat in that position, jerking and rubbing each other off. The girls took turns with me as my refectory period took more time, but none of us really paused. We came one by one, and by the end of a 30-minute long cartoon, we were exhausted. No one said anything but the two sisters went to take a shower immediately, leaving me to sit alone half-naked, brain overwhelmed by ‘bliss’.

After them, I went and got myself cleaned up. Back in the living room, they told me not to tell anyone about this, because I was not supposed to know this at my age. I said ok.

From the next day onwards, they were home earlier than usual, to do that ‘fun’ thing with me before the adults came home. And I indulged myself immensely in it too, without any deeper thoughts. Soon, our ‘daytime’ activity crossed the line into the nights, when one or both their parents would be home. At first, it was just casual teasing, poking and rubbing over my shorts whenever they had the chance. Then, it escalated to those times when we would be seated side by side, although I was mainly the one doing the work because of how ‘messy’ my cum could get if they reciprocated.

About a year passed after it began, and Emily, the younger of them, came into my room one afternoon. ‘Go lie on the bed’, she commanded, and I obeyed. There was something about her that day, which felt more like frustration or anger, than the usual playful mood. Without any warning, she yanked my shorts off and took hers off as well. Then, she climbed over my belly and slid herself back, until our genitals touched.

‘Don’t say anything’, she quipped. Her wet and warm orifice then slipped over mine and my mind went blank immediately. I was so overwhelmed by how hot and slippery and erotic that I lost control of my body. My hands just clenched the sheets at my sides while she bounced her hips up and down, groaning and moaning into the wall behind me.

It was my first time, and it lasted minutes. Within a few strokes of that powerful hips, I was trembling like a fish while cum erupted into her pussy, and she just kept going. My head was twisting left and right from the agony but she just kept going. The cramps in my thighs, the ache in my abdomen, the coat of perspiration on my forearm, and the beads of sweat appearing on my face, all did nothing to slow her down.

She, just kept riding. After another load of cum fired into her pussy, she then slowly pushed herself upright, and kind of stopped moving. It was just her fingers on her clit now, rubbing left and right, as her moans softened into purrs. By then, my dick had shrunk out of her, but I managed to get a few of those initial squeezes in her pussy.

At last, Emily came, and she collapsed on my chest.

‘What happened to you?, I asked in a worried voice.

‘I let a guy finger me, and he kept doing it even though I said it hurt’, she sighed.

It was then I realised, that there were other guys out there – who didn’t care. We went on to do our own things that day, and it wasn’t long before Natalie found out about what we did. Being older, and having dated before, she knew more – about positions.

The two sisters then rotated between themselves, letting themselves into my room at around 3-4pm every afternoon, to release their stress, and mine. It would go on until I was 16 (and them 19-20) when I dated my first girlfriend, whom was clueless about ‘adult subjects’. My sisters being official teenagers then, had began to dress even more daringly, with those tiny tops and shorts. I had tried to decrease the number of times we’d do ‘it’, but they always had their ways with me. Be it random blowjobs, or completely one-side cowgirl rides, I was being treated more like a dildo then.

After I finished my final year of secondary school, I moved back to my parents’ place. And everything went back to normal. We met each other a few more times during Chinese New Year, but after a few more years, work and scheduling took CNY from us.

I eventually married my first girlfriend, and she is still in the dark about that part of my childhood. How did the sisters ‘ruined’ me you asked? Well, the sofa became my favourite spot to fuck on, and even more thankfully, my wife was into making amateur videos, right on said sofa, making some clips an exact re-enactment of my best childhood memories.

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Rekindled

PS; This story is very dialogue heavy, and the use of English is intentionally ‘downgrade’ to reflect real thoughts and natural speech.

(Ann began) ‘Kor.. you remember what we did when we were younger?’

At last, I thought to myself, the past has finally caught up with me after so many years. I could not deny how often I have thought about that incident, only because of how ashamed and guilty I was, for allowing that to happen no matter how old we were there.

(I sighed) ‘Yes. I don’t think I can ever forget about that. a long pause Why did you bring that up suddenly?’

In my mind, I knew it wasn’t ‘sudden’. It was more of ‘overdue’. The both of us have gone so far ahead, and apart with our lives, dating our fair share of partners, going through heartbreaks and bliss in equal parts, etc. As much as I wished that she had forgotten about that ‘incident’, I knew that there was no way I would get away with it. It will come back sooner or later, as karma.

(Ann continued) ‘We never really had closure.. did we?’

‘Nope. We definitely did not. We did something stupid, and we both thought it was.. fun.. and tried to.. get each other to.. sigh.. a few times. And we stopped asking.’

(Ann continued) ‘We stopped talking too. We stopped being there for each other.’

‘Yes. And we both know why.’

(Ann asked) ‘Do you blame yourself?’

‘Of course! Although we didn’t know what the fuck we were doing, I have watched some.. porn.. by that time to know better. I just wasn’t thinking.’

(Ann asked) ‘Do you blame me?’

‘Never! It was never your fault. You just did what I asked most of the time.’

(Ann rebutted) ‘No? I was the one who told you what to do and you did it.’

(Ann continued) ‘You said you remember what we did that time. What do you think about most?’

‘The shame.. the guilt.. almost every time when I get intimate with someone.. ‘

(Ann asked) ‘Did it affect your sex life?’

‘Not really.. but.. I’ve wronged you.. ‘

(Ann continued) ‘I couldn’t forget either. But I remembered it differently from you.’

‘How so?’

(Ann blushed) ‘I’d get wetter.. ‘

I whispered a ‘fuck’ and looked intently at her, heart slowly wincing as I realised how I might have messed her up, in a grave, grave way. The guys she met after me, the desires she had after me, her whole history after me.. was built on that foolish mistake.

Now, for some context. Our dad was a chain-smoker, so you can imagine how our house smelled on a normal day. On top of that, he has some paranoia about keeping our house very safe. So apart from the 3 locks on our gate, the windows in the house were mostly shut. You know, ‘in case of rain and no one hears it’. And! Our mom was a hoarder, so you can imagine how much free space we had. Our ‘introverted’ character were partly shaped by the character of our hot-tempered dad.

In short, he has to have the final say, and everything he says is right.

So we learned to keep our mouths shut most of the time we were home. Being a growing ‘boy (14yo)’ and ‘girl (13yo)’, we gradually had less (topics, thoughts) to share with each other. But we had one common habit, which I would say kind of kept us together.

Because of the cigarette smoke and occasional quarrels, we would often hang out outside the house. We started ‘waiting’ at the void deck, then we realised we couldn’t tell if the chaos was over, so we moved to the stairs. Then we bumped into our outgoing dad and got questioned about why we were not in the house he worked so hard to pay for. So again, we moved, up a few floors, still at the stairs.

Now, the interesting part. While all of us took ‘Math & Science’ in primary school, and have an idea of the male/ female anatomy, the act of ‘sex’ weren’t covered. In secondary school, we were the first generation of students to receive ‘sex education’. So while some of us ‘knew all about it’, all of us took it as a joke. ‘Who doesn’t know what is sex?’, we assumed. And might I remind you, we were still about 5 years away of the launch of the first Google phone (I remembered because that was my first smart phone – G1).

I couldn’t remember the exact phrase my sister asked, but she was wondering if my school had started sex education as well. She was at that age to get her first mensuration, and that was how we went deep into the topic. Days past on that fateful flight of stairs, and before we knew it, we were at that moment to show each other our parts.

‘Just see see’ right? Until Ann had to ask me how would it enter a woman’s vagina if it was that small. She actually held my (unerected) dick in her fingers and flipped it up and down to ‘see’. And I.. being a ‘growing boy’ – reacted accordingly. It grew, and she kept holding it to watch. That awkward moment didn’t last long, but she later admitted to me that she too, had a secret of her own – about how good she would feel when she rubbed a certain part on her vagina.

As embarrassed and shy as I was, I didn’t need to make any requests. A few days later, she was seated up a few steps behind me and her school skirt was apart. She pointed a spot to me, and I, in my unthinking mode, touched, and rubbed it like she had described. As you could have imagined, our default dwelling was no longer home, but at the stair where we would just please each other as fair siblings.

Juice-soaked fingers, cum-stained hands, we were in our own world for a long time. No amount of sex education could tell us that brothers and sisters weren’t allowed to do that for each other. It didn’t fit the criteria of ‘abuse’, and we weren’t strangers to each other. Plus, we have already started kissing a.k.a. making out with each other by then.

If the stairs was the ‘waiting area’ for us to head back home, then the nearby community centre was where we officially ‘hung out’. Before your mind starts wandering, we would only go to that community centre when our friends were around. For basketball, for doing homework, for wasting time, and never just the both of us.

We were about a year into that ‘relationship’ when we decided to explore that community centre – at 11pm. To skip the boring parts, I knew when the gates were closed because I had played basketball (with friends) until they had to lock up. So when Ann and I visited, we were literally trying our luck, for that one side door that was unlocked.

Once in, I could only say that all hell broke loose. Assisted by dim lighting from the street lamps coming in through the windows, we had truly let ourselves go as we hugged, kissed, touched, groped everywhere. She sat on a chair, and I was on my knees the next second, licking and sucking her pussy like a hungry tiger. Once she came once, we instinctively swapped places, and she went at it like a hungry baby, sucking and moaning while rubbing herself.

It was then we ‘discovered’ the 69 position, when we wanted to be in the same moment at the same time. It was just all glory when I came so hard into her mouth the same time she flooded my mouth with juices. When that was over, she turned around to keep making out with me, as her hand kept jerking me off.

‘Do you want to try it?’

Those six words.. I think I nodded when she suddenly stood over my waist, one hand holding up her skirt and the other going around my dick when she stooped herself into range. To date, I could vividly remember how ‘scorched’ the first inch of my dick was when it entered her. Both her hands suddenly fell onto my chest and I grabbed her waist hard. I wasn’t sure what we said to each other then, but I was slowly lowering her onto my dick.

I remembered how tightly we hugged each other (while penetrated), and it lasted a long time. The next thing I knew, we were moving our hips against each other as her groans turned to moans. Soon, she was on the floor while I assumed missionary, pumping my dick deep into her. Her legs were locked around me, just as our eyes did. We kissed gently, and hugged with me on top of her, until I came.

Until I came, into my sister.

While I froze inside her, her pussy started squeezing around me, growing in tightness until she threw her head back. I just stayed inside of her until she regained her composure, for a tears to roll down her temples.

‘Was it painful?’

‘No. It was beautiful.’

Those were the last words we spoke that night. We got dressed, went home, and never met at the stairs or community centre again. Our words were reduced to daily concern, though our eyes were hoping for more.

(Ann continued) ‘You never got hard thinking about me?’

‘A few times.’

(Ann asked) ‘When?’

‘When I get intimate with someone, and thought of you, and got angry with myself.’

Without saying a word more, Ann walked in front of me and hugged me, as tight as the last hug I had received from her. She just held me there until her hands came over my cheeks, tilting my watering eyes upwards to her.

Then.. a kiss – which I reciprocated. We touched, we groped, we felt. She still had that underweight physique I had established my past relationships on, and I was as chunky as the men she had posted on her IG with. Now with doors we could lock, there was no need to keep any clothes on. With experiences we had gained, we no longer had to take turns. With modern contraceptives, no more barriers could stand between us.

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You Lil Bitch

(Jade whispered) ‘heyyy.. can I just help myself? you can continue sleeping.. ‘

My brain had barely registered what she just said when a hand reached over my bulge, an unintentional one in the middle of my sleep. Within seconds, the elastic band of my boxers were pulled under my balls and her fingers quickly went around my shaft. Part of my couldn’t believe what she was asking at that hour, and the other part of me was smothered by her slow and gentle squeezing on my throbbing dick.

I kept my eyes closed as I had to conserve any remaining energy, and let her uncover the sheets from my waist down. After a couple of minutes of that superficial ‘handjob’, a warm orifice came over my dick and flooded my senses with euphoria. As she moved her head up and down, my toes curled at that same pace, being half-horny due to the origin of my hardness.

As I thought I would enjoy ‘more’ lip service, she ended it as soon as she lathered enough saliva over it. Shifting her body on top of mine, her pussy instantly enveloped my entire manhood in one stroke. It was a move she had always liked, despite how shocking it was on her body. In her own words, it would somehow get her wetter and crazier, than doing anything else during foreplay.

A few seconds of stagnation later, her hips began rocking against mine. Flicking that dick up and down as it slid against the underside of her vaginal walls. Her moans, pace, and hand-placement, gave me an approximate gauge of her current mood. Although she was going solo, it was clear how much she was enjoying this man-doll moment. There wasn’t any loud groans or deep moans, just rhythmic sighs and the occasional pauses in her breathing, as her pussy contracted tightly around me.

The sides of my belly was getting a little sticky as juices ran along her thighs where she was grinding on my body, turning slickly at the same time she increased speed. I had my half-asleep mind to thank as it desensitised my dick a little, though that same repetitive motion was taking its toll on my stamina. At one point, I could no longer keep my hands still and placed them on her tiny waist, gripping them hard while inching upwards to her cutesy B cups.

Once my fingers located her jiggling nipples, a hard pinch sent her into overdrive, forcing her to perch herself up in a squat and switching the back-forth angle to an up-down, slamming motion. Again, I had not thought of that when my thighs began to stiffen, the obvious sign we both understood to be my biological countdown.

The loud, thumping, wet-slapping sounds filled the entire room, as were her moans that matched the downward drop of her pussy. From the slight ache I felt in my loin, I knew I was harder than ever, and perhaps.. longer than ever too. She slipped out of me a few times, but she never failed to come back harder and deeper.

Finally, her body fell backwards and she caught my knees for support. An overwhelming squeeze in her groin effectively suffocated, and silenced all signs of my incoming ejaculation. Very carefully, I then raised my knees up, replaced my hands on her waist, and brought her chest down onto mine.

(I whispered) ‘is it over?’

(she hushed) ‘yes.. i just need to rest for a whaaaaaa…. ‘

Without warning, I thrust my hips up and rammed her pussy full of my cock, shocking her body to shut her legs immediately – if not for my upright knees that held them open. Biting my teeth together, I had to exact some revenge for her disruption, and made sure to unleash all I had in those forceful jabs between her legs. I was like a machine-gun that has malfunctioned, shoving dick into her no matter if it met its required depth.

No more than a minute had gone by when I suddenly felt a gush of warm liquid between our bodies, and the convulsion happening her pussy instantly triggered my overloaded senses. Cum poured into her without regards and she was just trembling like a battery-depleted ragdoll. Besides our satiated mood, it was the mess that really got to me.

I was supposed to be asleep, and she was supposed to do this cleanly. And instead, I was wide awake, and the sheets were stained.

(I called her out) ‘You don’t get to sleep just yet. Suck this clean.’

In her side-sleeping pose, I tucked my soiled dick into her mouth and moved my hips accordingly, until I was hard again.. and came again. By then, I was too tired to care about the soaked sheets, and slept next to her, on top of the blanket she was under.

Argh..

Waking up the next morning before she did, I went straight on my knees and rolled that sleeping, selfish girl over. I then yanked her by the waist and raised her hips in air, giving her no chance to react when I plunged my dick right into her pussy. Despite being somewhat-wet from last night’s leftover, she still let out a muffled scream when I penetrated her half-dry. It was my turn to take my frustration out on her, and it took about two shots before my marbles were finally calmed down.