Christine: My Sister

It was like date rape in reverse as my sister turned into the wicked bitch-in-heat of the demonic pits of hellfire itself. Every plunge of that cunt down around my cock broiled my balls bringing me closer, and closer to what would have to be the ultimate in guy climaxes. Every bounce up, and off of my prick showing the slick wet residual essence of her incestuous pussy. Her tits rubbing up against my front making the whole thing surrealistic, almost out of body like. My mind becoming a petri dish for the collecting of every insane thought in the universe suddenly became over crowded, and I almost blew my head out of my ass as my cock exploded right up against the very womb of my own sister.

Christine’s body shook violently then. Her titties flopping in every direction, her limbs squeezing tighter around me, and her butt rippled in my hands as she came in multiplications of ten by comparison to my own volcanic orgasm. Her flesh becoming slippery with her sweat I eased her back against a wall, and slammed the last three wads of my cum into her cunt in rapid succession. In effect, nailing her to the wall so to speak.

I stood there, with my sister attached to my body, and the dinning room wall like a living parasite. Our union of writhing flesh smoldering in the after math of spent passion with sweat running the same gambit as our sexual lust to drip onto the carpeting below as we caught our breaths. The release of our tensions bringing on a new challenge, requiring a new payment, the cost of shame. Or at the very least, the invasion of guilt on my part in this relationship into the realm of society’s worst taboo.

At last Christine broke our kiss, and then lowered her legs so that she was standing with my brotherly penis still firmly lodged in her vagina. Her doe like eyes looking as if caught in the hunter’s blinding light as she realized what we had just done looked deep into my own.

“We are one,” she whispered.

“It’s all my fault…” I started, but she put a hand to my lips to silence me.

“I am your whore, your sex slave now, Duke, and nothing can change that. We are equally to blame, but I seduced you, remember… Master.”

I pulled back then, my cock exiting her pussy, her cunt evacuating my sperm to plop down on the puddle already forming on the carpet between her legs. I looked down then, and saw our liquid sin. It was a sickly looking lake of commingled scum.

“Clean up that mess,” I pointed at our deluge, then turned and hurried off to my room.

A last look over my shoulder caught Christine down on all fours licking up that muck with her tongue. As far as I know she licked it all up as I heard her enter her own bedroom about a minute before the front door opened announcing our parents arrival. It’s now 2am, and all is quiet in the house, and I am alone with my incestuous thoughts…

“Hey sailor,” Christine whisper-giggled behind me, “want a blowjob?”

As I sit here continuing this self-revealing confession, my sister has joined me in my bedroom now. Dressed only in the garter belt, nylons, and high heels from dinner she is under my desk, sitting between my legs, and sucking hard on my cock, even deep throating me to the short hairs. I guess confidence comes with a hardon, and guilt shuffles off to some corner to hide when one’s sister takes your dick in her mouth willingly. Already visions of shoving my cock up her asshole now have gotten my balls broiling again. Christine has already informed me that she’s let a couple of black dudes take her in the butt, so she doesn’t have any cherry left in her.

Indeed, by her recollection Christine has been whoring around now for the last five years with any guy brave enough to get this close to her, even dad. Though like me, she had to seduce him. However I am the only one who she has ever committed to becoming a sex slave for. And I in turn have committed myself to turning Christine into the sleaziest whore possible. And who knows, maybe once I have sis trained, we can work on turning our mother into my whore next.