Sister Candy

Story Info
Candy and Bray, siblings, stumble during a porno shoot.
5k words
55.2k
47
0
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here

Silence scattered with lightning speed inside the parish, muting chattering lips and cutting short unrelenting rackets of laughter. Father Apollo picked himself up. The rallied mob cast their keen eyes on him in the same breath. Onward to the pulpit he tramped, frocked in a laundered white alb, his graying hair groomed nicely from back to front. He drew up his hands as he stood before everyone, exclaiming out in a piercing voice, "Our father in heaven, bestow favor to each one of us present here. We meet on your day to honor your name, to glorify you for this wonderful life you have given us, and to recognize you as our only God, for there is no one else greater than you, be it in heaven or on earth." In harmonious unison, we bobbed our heads up and down, eventually sealing the priest's prayer with a submissive, "Amen," that echoed repeatedly from wall to wall.

On the first tier of pews I sat, clad in an ornate purple habit that swept clean the dusty floor beneath every time that I stirred. I was the first one to put, "Amen," into words. Down I bowed my head before the devout priest, crossing myself and giving my rosary a soft peck. In a humble voice I rebuked the talkative woman seated beside me, who was letting a friend know that Father Apollo and Mother Superior were secret lovers.

That whole afternoon, I wept, bowed down on my knees. My dress wetted all over with tears. My eyes bloated like I had received the cruelest of beating. In an agonized voice that moved a watching nine-year-old girl into instantaneous tears, I called out for God's intervention against the many sins corrupting this world, shuddering from head to toe, and having great difficulties in breathing. The tearful girl, thinking I was giving up my ghost, ran outside to seek immediate aid.

I bought clothes of all fads day after day and stashed them in flush wrappings. I would stand meekly in the burning light with a sweet, guiltless smile worn on my face. My look mirrored that of harmless Jesus when he ministered to the needs of the afflicted—healing the sick and filling up empty bellies with invigorating food. The sun baked my skin, transfiguring it to a dark gold. I underwent this crucifixion with astonishing perseverance. Not the sharp nails of the sun piercing into my hands and feet, or the grueling desire to have a chilled drink, would ever triumph in crushing my purposes.

I was a liberator to the aged and youth, both captives of poverty. I used up every single cent I owned in assisting these hapless souls. As gifts of eternal outfits were lavished to my followers, I would place my hands upon their heads, divinely, and send them back to their homes with imperishable blessings from heaven. The entire neighborhood loved me. They looked upon me as their knight, evermore gleaming in the flawless armor of Christ. What they did not know was that I changed my name to Alex Peters every night and sneaked out to film porn in various hotels.

The moon was dragged halfway the sky by an unseen gravity. Hills towered steeply in the distance, black as the cosmos even with soft light twinkling everywhere. I ghosted out of my apartment, a low-pitched clink following my ankle-strapped stilettos. A navy miniskirt securely clung to my curved hips while a cap-sleeved blouse held on to my huge breasts. Down my head hung a platinum wig, its spread out hairs littered carelessly. My wary eyes fluttered left and right, checking every spot that roused my suspicion. Frightened with the persistent clacking of my heels, I took them off one after the other and tiptoed away into the thick forest enwreathing our quiet Little Sisters of Swanson.

I made haste past the lofty trees like I was being pursued. My bucket bag swung down my shoulders, slapping my waist and rocking away towards the shrubs. It was the dearest thing I could never bear to leave behind. Diverse sex toys were stowed inside so that it bulged to near rupture. In the midst of affrighting darkness, I advanced with well-calculated movements, knowing that tripping down would make certain fatal consequences.

My lungs stinging, I stumbled on a deserted road and waited for what seemed like generations before a dawdling cab finally surfaced from the east. It streamed the tar with blinding lights, filling me with sudden hope. I squirmed delightfully in the same way those ragged men and women did every time they saw me walking towards them, burdened with packages they would keenly wrench and embrace. My plea to God was that the taxi would not happen to be packed with passengers. This, it turned out so! I cheerfully leapt into the backseat, slamming the door shut and kissing my rosary. God loved me for a saint I was during daytime, didn't he?

Every night meant videotaping porn in a different hotel. Tonight, I was bound for Sea Lake Hut, sited ten miles away from that place I disliked very much—the awful convent. I had always wanted to do porn growing up. Even though no one knew it, my mom, Cindy, was a working girl who never reached glory heights. 'Working girl' was her nickname for fellow whores who relished sex with men in the face of cameras.

My face tightened with worry as I stepped into the filming room. I noisily shut the door behind me. Fifteen heads quickly reversed, their seething faces scowling at me. "I am so sorry," I apologized to the director, Kirby, who stroked the tip of his cigar on a glowing flame. "The traffic delayed me. I also had a long way to walk just to chance on a cab."

As the cigarette touched his lips, he sucked in a breath of dissipating smoke, and gracelessly bemoaned, "You give me the same lame excuse everyday. I no longer have faith in you, Alex. Try being an honest nun that you fake to be, even for just one single day."

I blazed red. When I was Alex Peters I loathed being reminded of the work I did in the hours of daylight. My heart tore apart with madness, my fingers tensing and my hands curling up into stony fists. In my vision, everything flared red. My teeth gnashed; through the gaps between them I chimed out, "I have jeopardized my reputation so I can keep your ungrateful ass from slipping into poverty. If you won't tell me what the hell I am here for, I am going to return the same way I came. Do you hear me?"

A driblet of sweat oozed down Kirby's appalled face. He glimpsed my piercing glare and shrank back. I crinkled my nose as if though he stank. Perhaps he did. In his moment of unease, his penis swelled inside his pants and soaked his feet with passing urine. What the hell was that? I burst into instantaneous laughter. The rest joined me. Stupefying shame overpowered him, crippling him in the process. He wanted to go into hiding that very instant and never come out.

"We have a man from Dallas nicknamed Brady Fucks. He is new in porn; he is also the guy you will be screwing tonight. There is no script. It's just immediate sex with no any kind of plotting or precise direction. Fuck him all the hell you want. The cameras will be switching close. We are filming this as a promotional clip to our new website, www.raunchygirlz.com. Please bear in mind that you have ten minutes to fuck this guy like this will be your last porno ever."

"And where is this Brady chap?" I questioned, my curious gaze prowling around, "Does he meet my requirements?" I concealed this in my heart: All the men here were ugly. I never had sex with plain-looking guys. I fancied comely boys with stuck-out muscles, unmistakable two-packs, and heavy asses. A satisfying dick of whatever shape, whether banana or zigzag, was a must have. If any of these things lacked, the deal was scrapped.

"He will be here soon. He is getting prepared in the next room," Kirby divulged.

I pulled my mini away and remained in a taut black leather V-string. My hands gripped my U-necked blouse at its margin and I laboriously wriggled out of it, flicking my breasts upward as I did this. I had quit wearing bras. My boobs cooked every time I put on one. Gently, they swayed to and fro, their movement closely monitored by the spectators' eyes. Kirby licked up his lips, laying his riveted eyes on my breasts, and down he dropped his gaze to my beardless, ruddy-looking pussy lips.

"Do you mind if I participate as well?" He asked, joking in all probability.

I threw him a spiteful look. "You're too old for this, honey. Men your age don't arouse me. They make me never want to have sex again. I am not joking, mind you."

"You are so disrespectful, you know. Being a nun does not befit you. You should try getting a job in a bar. Alcoholics will never turn a blind eye to gross people like you, not for love or money. They will surely teach you how to have a high opinion of everyone, unmindful of age or appearance."

"Enough!" I shrieked, "If you don't mind, I have work to do here. Mister Cameraman, where are you? You fool: Did you come here to make eyes at me in my birthday suit, or to get your rubbishy items filming? Your cameras need urgent repairing. I can see that they are in a very poor condition. I can't believe Kirby hired you. Did you follow him here with a gun leveled on his head?"

My eyes sidetracked to the timber door that squawked open shrilly. An undressed man stepped in, his pale lips twisted into a content smile. On his back was tattooed a snaking dragon that had unfolded wings and whetted teeth. The dragon's lengthy tongue jutted out, spewing flames that unfurled relentlessly. In a rude awakening, my mouth slumped open. I knew who this man was! He was my young brother, Bray! I had never thought it probable that he'd videotape porn as well. His eyes dilated the instant he identified me. Even though we ran into each other frequently, I had not let him know what I did in secret.

"You're the lady I'm going to shaft, right?" Brady asked me, lifting up his eyebrows. His handsomeness softened my heart and sacked me of all ability to reason. The cells in my body responsible for locomotion stopped dead so that I was not able to stretch myself any way I wanted to. Like a flying moth enticed with a dazzling flash of light, I stood ogling him, short-winded of breath and enslaved by lustful sensations.

I miraculously blinked back to life and stated, "Of course we will be screwing each other, Mr. Fucks." His joystick dangled down his legs—long, lean, and immersed into a deep sleep. His thighs were gorged with sweetly flesh. I pictured myself fondling them and convulsing in sweet stimulation in the end.

He moved towards me, sticking out his tongue and brushing it on his lips. A tingle ran through me, tickling me downstairs and fattening my breasts concurrently. I fought for breath as I drew near him. His penis slowly straightened up. I raked my hair with a shaky hand, messing it up, and finally placing my fingers into my mouth.

Into his bouncy arms Brady snatched me. His eyes glittered like emeralds, sizing me up from my head down to my waist. I towed my fingers out of my mouth and sniffed them. A tempting scent trickled into my nostrils, inflating my lungs until they eventually began to tighten. My mouth then spilt open, and the appetizing smell that had gushed into my nostrils slid out through my lips. "Would you like me to lick you up?" He queried.

I raised my head high and dipped it low. "Lick me, Brady," I implored, "I want your tongue to brush me all over like you eat ice cream. Visualize that I am made of chocolate. Now you must taste me." My words poured out of my mouth like sweetest music. They proceeded into his ears, euphonically prompting him to smile and drag his lips up my throat. I crouched rearward as though I would hit the floor with the back of my head. Brady's hands hardened on my back, wrapping me into his arms and pushing on to nip my tits.

I unclosed my mouth and let a moan burst. Brady's long index finger twitched on his right hand, sliding between my legs and caressing my large lips. I gazed down. Vaginal cum was gently soaking my hole, permitting it to straighten out like rubber; into my cunt Brady jabbed, sinking down a pool of escalating cum. He then removed his finger and stuck it into his mouth, where he sucked it slowly while throwing me a rapt gaze. My eyelids did not flicker slightly despite the growing urge to seal them; neither did my gaze elude his.

"Please fuck me," I petitioned, gripping his balls and rubbing them lightly. As I was feasting my eyes on his bewitching beauty, I thought back to the good old days when we were growing up. Merry siblings we were, with faces that bespoke inexpressible happiness. Whenever the sun seared, we would race for the shore adjoining our home—slack swim trunks sagging down my brother's rear while a skintight bikini clung to my sweat-oozing body. Brady's legs always thrashed the sand faster than mine. They dug into the shore as he went, leaving behind a mould of large footprints. As one would expect, he surpassed me in stature, with bigger, untiring feet. Our friends nicknamed him Mister Elephant. Folks routinely misjudged him for being senior to me.

Since Brady flew faster than me, he every time made it to the waves first—leaping into them gracefully and casting a light drizzle of salted sea water at me. I giggled back, turning around as light waterfalls sprayed in my direction. It wetted my face and hair all together. Then I would unrelentingly backtrack and spatter continual sprinklings towards him. Brady was more than a sibling to me, even more than a best friend, and here I was, having sex with him. Was this right? It didn't matter to me.

He smacked my bum with his bare hand and wheeled me around. I arched down, facing the floor and squawking like a hen whose asshole was enlarging behind. He slapped my butt once again, his delicate palm drumming my softest flesh and generating loud pitter-patters in the proceeding. I jiggled my ass, left and right, up and down. My breasts jigged too—they bounced forward and backward repetitively. Brady greeted me with a wide grin as I stood up to peek behind.

He pressed his lips on the back of my neck and shoved two fingers into my butthole simultaneously. A sudden spasm of an orgasm followed, renting me asunder. My heart throbbed four times each second, causing me to breathe very fast and my veins to overflow with unneeded blood. Too much blood triggers high levels of lust—doctors caution. The situation was not in my favor. I itched with a consuming desire to be laid incessantly. My genitals were now infested with an alien virus that craved solely sex and continual sex. I wasn't sure if I would survive this.

Brady budged forward, pursuing me. He stood on warped feet and inched his face towards mine. Our noses flicked together with our lips and brows. I pressed my lips against his and pulled back suddenly. His icy breath breezed into my face, pitching strands of counterfeit blond hair behind me.

I straightened up on my toes, seeing that he soared higher than me in stature. I was hoping to grow as tall as he was and thus meet him eye to eye. My plans fizzled out like a burning candle puffed out by a waft of wind. I furrowed my brow in displeasure. A wry smirk took shape on his lips and he heaved me up into his arms, smacking my bum mercifully.

To a neighboring couch he carried me and placed me down. My eyes wandered up to him. He gave me a slow, loving peck on my lips and fixed his hand on my clit—unbending his fingers and inserting them into my gash leisurely. Everything about me reeled. The walls spun round and round; the crew present upturned and revolved in a perpetual circle. No one amongst them crashed into me, taking heed of how tumultuous they lurched.

I moved my hand behind Brady and latched on to his ass. Rapturous sensations rippled through me, gutting me with titillating goose pimples. I shivered in excitement. His behind was the softest thing I had ever fondled, even more baby-smooth than my own plump cheeks!

Brady mopped away the sweat falling in heavy drops down his face. He set his lips a sniffing distance away from my labia, snuffling it; my vaginal scent, moist and strong, unfurled throughout the air, seeping into his nose and gorging him with ecstasy. His tongue snaked out of his mouth, waggling like a serpent, and past his lips it lapped, moistening them with thick, adhesive-like saliva.

I slammed my eyes shut as Brady's tongue wiggled for my clit. He writhed into me, steadily, and licked deeper. I contorted that very instant, overwhelmed with intense bliss that hauled my breath far away beyond my reach. My hands stretched as far as the margins of the couch and gripped here tightly. I threw my head up and gaped at the wide ceiling aloft. Brady's tongue kept on boring deeper, winding left and right repeatedly, zigzagging up and down at the same time.

I screeched. An orgasm was close to bursting through my vaginal walls, sweeping away into my body and swamping it with sweet, electrifying sensations. Brady nipped my small lips with his teeth and slotted his fingers into my tear. He twisted them this way and that way, which his tongue had been working out before. He cuffed my ass and gnawed playfully into my abdomen. I shrieked with laughter and pinched his ear. This was a light rebuke.

He got up on his feet and grasped his stiffened, vertical penis. "Suck my dick, Alex," he bade me. I took hold of it, plunging myself into a fleeting fantasy and picturing that near moment when I was going to stuff it into my wringing wet pussy. God, his cock was just as soft as his bottom! The sole contrast extant was that it had some sort of hardness thriving within its bulky flesh. This was so because its interior veins, swamped with warm blood. With that kind of warmth scattering stealthily into my mouth, I felt good and contented.

Like an infant slurping its mother's milk into its famished mouth, I drank all of Brady's cum the minute he unshackled it into my steaming mouth. He took his phallus out without warning and knocked it on my cheeks. I bestowed him one happy smile. He unloosed fresh seed straight away, which crashed into my face and began trickling down in slow-moving drops.

He dragged me up to my feet and wheeled me around. Setting my foot on the couch beneath, I arched downward and hardened like ice while waiting for him to spear his thing into my back door. Fear stormed in the depths of my heart, warning me that I was not going to pull through this. It raided my mind and had me visualize myself sprawled on the floor after this screwing was finalized. In misery, I threshed about, slinging my feet and hands anywhere I possibly could. I trusted that this would ease my suffering, but it did not. Petrified I was, I shrugged away these thoughts and stayed my sights on the positive side of things.

First, Brady rubbed baby oil on my anus. Then he carefully slid his fingers into me to make sure that the oil had tenderized my rigid skin—it inevitably had! He removed his fingers slowly and placed his cock into my butthole. I opened wide my mouth, dilating my eyes all together, and making every persevering effort I could to keep on breathing. He bounced up and down, blowing out inexhaustible cum into me. "Fuck my ass," I howled, twirling my eyes and feeling all giddy. "Fuck my ass, Brady—yes, yes, harder!"

Until now, we had not revealed to anyone that we were brother and sister. Had we, I had no clue what reaction we would have drawn to ourselves. Kirby saluted me, ramming his lips and then stretching them out—he had blown me a kiss. I put my fingers on my mouth and flicked them with my lips. Then I took them away and split them in his direction. The cameras, arranged in all angles, did not however make a recording of this.

By the time Brady's dick slipped out of me, my bunghole was greatly swollen from his tremendous pounding. We wrestled for air like we were knackered dogs—hanging our mouths open and forcing our tongues out only to quickly wrench them back in. His hand ran through my back, goading me with renewed lust. He beat my bum in the end. It seemed my soft, obese buttocks were his revered fetish, weren't they? I suspected so.

12