Unspoken Pleasure (erotica)

The wrongness doesn't go away, it makes things even better. The crawling nature of knowing you're fucking familiar flesh and blood doesn't dissipate, it only increases every other sensation. You never forget you're having sex with your sister. And what's supposed to be the worst part unfortunately only makes it the best.

Like I said, I wasn't supposed to know what my sister's pussy smelled like. Felt like. Wasn't allowed to know what she looked like when she came. But I saw it. I watched it. Memorized every detail.

Betsy hung halfway down on my dick. Her mouth slowly gaping wider and wider. Her eyes, her hips, her pussy all yawning open in the exact same way. The slow build unending till I thought she would never stop.

Suddenly her body snapped closed. All at once. Lightning quick. Betsy's legs cinched. Her body stilled. Eyes rolled back. Her pussy tightened so much, I swear she was trying to rip my cock off.

A creaking, aching groan flooded out of my sister. Again, I thought of a towel being wrung out. The last juices of pulp forced from an orange. Betsy's whole body clamped down and eked every drop of ecstasy out of her. It didn't look like pleasure, but I knew that it was.

"AAAHHhhhhuuuhhhhnnnHHHaaa," the sound so low and quiet, yet so inescapable my sister might as well have screamed it.

Her face shifted as she bore down. Lips turn to a half frown. Eyes big and wet. Almost supplicant, like she was scared and confused by her need for me. Begging for something more.

Then Betsy fell forward, gasping. Her arms went limp. Whole body like a wet rag. She gasped for air, ragged and pained. Finally, she looked at me and smiled. Kissed me so hard we nearly knocked heads. "Yeah?" I asked her.

"Oh yeah," Betsy replied.

Again, I worried we might be done. That the cold reality of my sister's cum would wash over her and she'd realize what we were doing, and she'd stop. Because that made sense, right? That's how a rational person would choose to react.

We were doing something truly, epically wrong. Like gulping poison, knowingly, because we were both so desperately thirsty. And yet, once that flood of need was staunched in my sister, it should have led her to call an end to all this. A good brother might have let her.

Instead, I grabbed my sister around the waist and violently rolled her over. My dick slipped out with the movement, but I grabbed my cock and shoved it right back in.

Betsy groaned as I filled her once again.

"Fuck you feel so good," I said. Like that made a lick of sense. Seeing my sister's body had broken my brain, so you can only imagine what feeling it did to me. Not that Betsy was any more coherent.

"Oh fuck yes," she said, "Like that."

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As much as I liked my sister humping me, I have to say it was even better now that I was able to plow her. The snap of my hips against her backside. Running my hands all over her bare skin. Seeing her writhe beneath me. Knowing that I was doing this to her. Taking her there. It brought me to another level.

Unfortunately, it also brought me to another level. I'd have fucked Betsy like that forever if my body had let me. But there was an endpoint to my endurance and, as I told my sister, it was encroaching fast.

"Getting... close..." I warned her.

"Ohhh, uhhn. Me too."

"OK," I said. Again, I know, the rhetoric was riveting.

To this point, I'd moved in ways that seemed to make Betsy respond. Now though, I abandoned myself to my own pleasure. Did what my body and millions of years of biology told me was right. The tingle started at the base of my dick and spilled forward.

"Getting thicker," Betsy said, "Feel it. Is he going to shoot for me?"

"Uh huh."

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"Good," Betsy said, "I like it when it shoots."

As I plunged forward, I did my best to hold back. To ready myself to release from Betsy's body before I let go. My sister sensed my hesitation. She snapped her legs around my waist. "No," she gasped. "Inside."

For a second, everything held on the precipice. Then the spark raced across my body. The pleasure exploded out of me. And a river of my sperm raced out of my cock and burst straight into my sister's pussy.

"Oh fuck!" Betsy cried out. She gripped my arms tighter, and I realized that my sister was cumming, too. Her body's pleasure responding to my own, like each feeding the other. A counterpointing crescendo of ecstasy in our sibling-induced symphony.

I'm pretty sure I roared as my fertile fluid finally filled my sister. The bliss coming in long, sharp bursts that matched my ejaculations. Each slightly lesser than the last.

"Oh Betsy," I said. Practically a sob. "Oh God."

"That's it. There's a good boy," Betsy said, stroking my back. "Let it all go."

I don't remember the rest of it. We separated ourselves, I'm certain. I have a vague recollection of a kiss. A tight squeeze. I'd poured my essence into my sister. It wasn't just the energy of the sex, the buildup of the evening. It was days of anticipation. Weeks. A lifetime of waiting for this moment. And when it hit, I could barely do anything except let sleep overtake me.