Jake pulled into the driveway of the two-story house he hadn’t seen in eight months. Twenty-one, home from college for a long weekend, duffel bag over one shoulder, keys already in hand. The place looked the same—faded blue siding, the old basketball hoop with the net half gone. Mom and Dad both worked until six. The house should have been empty.
It wasn’t.
The living-room TV was on, volume low but clear enough. Moans. Wet, rhythmic, unmistakable. Jake froze in the foyer, bag sliding off his shoulder. He knew that sound. He’d jerked off to enough of it in his dorm.
He stepped closer, quiet.
Lily sat on the couch in an oversized black tank top and nothing else. Twenty-six, tattoo artist, the older sister who had always been a little too loud, a little too wild. The tank was thin, the kind of cheap cotton that clung. No bra. Her tits were full, soft, nipples dark and hard against the fabric every time she shifted. One hand was buried between her spread thighs, two fingers working slow circles over her clit while the other held the remote, skipping through scenes. On screen a guy was throat-fucking a girl while another girl licked the first one’s cunt. Lily’s eyes were locked on it, lips parted, breathing through her mouth.
Jake’s cock went from half-hard to rigid in three seconds. The sight of his sister—older, inked, shameless—touching herself to porn in the middle of the afternoon hit him like a fist. He’d jerked off thinking about her more times than he wanted to admit. The way her tank rode up when she stretched. The flash of underboob when she leaned over the tattoo chair. The time she’d walked out of the shower in only a towel that barely covered her ass. He had never done anything. She was his sister. That was supposed to be enough.
Apparently not today.
He dropped the bag. The soft thud made her jump. Her hand froze between her legs. She twisted on the couch, eyes wide, then narrowing when she saw who it was.
“Jesus, Jake. You could knock.”
“Door was unlocked.” His voice came out rougher than he meant. He couldn’t stop staring at the outline of her nipples, the wet shine on her fingers. “You’re watching porn in the living room.”
Lily didn’t close her legs. She didn’t pull the tank down. A slow, wicked smile curved her mouth. “Parents aren’t home for hours. And I was bored.” Her gaze dropped to the front of his jeans. The thick ridge of his cock was obvious. “Looks like you’re not bored anymore.”
He should have walked away. He should have gone upstairs, locked the door, jerked off like a normal person. Instead he stepped into the living room.
“You’re not wearing a bra.”
“Observant.” She leaned back, arched a little so the tank stretched tighter across her tits. “You always stare this hard, or is this a special homecoming?”
Jake’s throat worked. “I can see everything.”
“Then stop pretending you don’t want to.” Lily’s fingers resumed their slow circles, deliberate now, putting on a show. “I felt you looking the second you walked in. Your cock’s trying to rip through your jeans. Don’t act like this is one-sided.”
He crossed the last few feet and stopped in front of the couch. Up close he could smell her—skin, faint tattoo ink, the sharp scent of her cunt. On the TV the girl was gagging, spit running down her chin while the second girl moaned around a mouthful of cock. Lily’s eyes flicked from the screen to him and back.
“You like that?” she asked softly. “Two girls sharing a dick? Or the deep-throat part?”
“Both,” he said before he could stop himself.
Lily’s smile turned filthy. “Good. Because I do too.” She hooked two fingers into the neckline of her tank and tugged it down. Her tits spilled free—heavy, soft, pink nipples already tight. She kept the fabric under them so they stayed pushed up and on display. “I’ve been bi since before you left for college. Girls, guys, both at once when I can get it. Right now I just want my little brother’s cock in my throat while I finish watching this.”
Jake’s brain short-circuited. He reached down, cupped one full breast, thumb dragging across the nipple. Lily’s breath hitched. She arched into the touch.
“Risky,” she whispered. “Parents could come home early. Neighbors. Anyone.”
“Then we better be quiet,” he said, and shoved his jeans and boxers down.
His cock sprang free—thick, veined, already leaking. Lily’s eyes went dark. She sat up, swung her legs over the edge of the couch, and took him in both hands. Her palms were warm, slightly damp from her own cunt. She stroked once, twice, then leaned in and licked the head like it was candy.
“Fuck,” Jake hissed.
Lily opened her mouth and took him deep on the first try. No teasing. Just wet heat sliding down until her nose pressed against his stomach. She held there, throat working around him, eyes watering, then pulled back with a thick string of spit connecting her bottom lip to his cock. She looked up, mascara already smudging.
“I’ve been practicing,” she said, voice wrecked. “Tattoo conventions. After-parties. Girls teach each other things.” Then she swallowed him again.
Jake grabbed a fistful of her dark hair and held on while she deep-throated him like she was starving. Wet, filthy sounds filled the living room—gags, slurps, the wet slap of her throat taking every inch. Spit ran down her chin, dripped onto her bare tits, soaked the front of her tank. She didn’t care. She kept going, one hand rolling his balls, the other still between her own legs, fucking herself with three fingers now while she choked on her brother’s cock.
On the TV the scene shifted—two girls on their knees, trading a cock back and forth, covering it in spit and cum from a previous load. Lily pulled off long enough to glance at it, then grinned up at Jake with shiny lips.
“Want to cover me like that?” she asked. “Paint your sister’s face and tits while Mom and Dad are still at work?”
He answered by shoving back into her mouth. Lily moaned around him and took it deeper, eyes rolling. Her free hand left her cunt and started squeezing and lifting her tits, offering them up. Jake’s hips snapped. He fucked her face in short, rough strokes, watching her throat bulge, watching the tears streak her cheeks. She never pulled away. She just took it, messy and eager, like she’d been waiting for this exact moment.
When he felt the first warning pulse he tried to warn her. Lily only pushed deeper, humming, until he broke. Thick ropes of cum pumped straight down her throat. She swallowed hard, once, twice, then pulled back just enough that the next two shots painted her tongue and lips. The last few pulses she aimed lower—across her chin, down the valley of her tits, one long stripe over her left nipple. She stayed on her knees, mouth open, showing him the mess, then slowly closed her lips and swallowed what was left.
Jake’s legs were shaking. Lily wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, smearing cum across her cheek, then stood. She peeled the ruined tank the rest of the way off and kicked it aside. Completely naked now except for the thin silver chain around her neck and the ink covering her arms and ribs. She pushed Jake down onto the couch and climbed into his lap, straddling him.
“Your turn to recover,” she said, grinding her wet cunt along the length of his still-hard cock. “I’m not done.”
She reached between them, lined him up, and sank down in one smooth motion. Jake groaned. She was soaked, hot, gripping him like a fist. Lily started riding immediately—slow rolls of her hips that made her tits bounce, then faster, harder, the wet slap of skin on skin loud in the quiet house. She braced her hands on his chest and looked down at him with that same wicked smile.
“Feels good having your sister’s cunt on your cock?” she asked. “Been thinking about this since you left. Every time I got fucked I closed my eyes and pretended it was you. Every time a girl went down on me I imagined teaching you how to eat me the same way.”
Jake thrust up hard. Lily gasped, then laughed, breathless. She leaned down and kissed him—messy, open-mouthed, tasting like cum and her own spit. He grabbed her ass and fucked up into her while she ground down. The couch creaked. Outside a car drove past. Neither of them slowed.
Lily reached back and cupped his balls, rolling them while she rode. “I want you to fill me,” she whispered against his mouth. “Then pull out and cover me again. Face, tits, stomach. Make me look like the girls in the porn. Risky enough for you?”
He answered by flipping them. Lily landed on her back, legs spread wide. Jake hooked her knees over his elbows and drove in deep. The angle made her cry out—loud, unrestrained. He clapped a hand over her mouth. She licked his palm and kept moaning into it while he pounded her. The wet sound of his cock slamming into her cunt filled the room. Her tits bounced with every thrust. Cum from earlier still streaked her chest, drying sticky.
He lasted longer the second time. Long enough to feel her clench and shake through an orgasm that left her thighs trembling. Long enough to pull out at the last second, fist his cock, and paint her again—thick white stripes across her stomach, between her tits, one final shot that landed across her lower lip and chin. Lily scooped some of it with two fingers and pushed it into her mouth, eyes locked on his the whole time.
They stayed like that for a minute, breathing hard, the porn still playing on mute in the background. Lily eventually sat up, looked down at the mess covering her body, and laughed softly.
“We’re going to have to shower before they get home,” she said. “And maybe burn this couch cushion.”
Jake ran a hand through his hair, still half-hard, still staring at his sister covered in his cum. “Or we could go upstairs. Lock the door. Do it again.”
Lily’s eyes lit up. She stood, cum dripping down her thighs, and held out a hand. “Lead the way, little brother. But this time I want your tongue in my cunt first. And if you’re good, I’ll tell you about the last girl I fucked at the shop. In detail. While you’re still inside me.”
They left the living room exactly as it was—tank top on the floor, porn still looping, the faint smell of sex hanging in the air. Upstairs, with the door locked and the afternoon sun slanting through the blinds, they started over. Lily spread herself on the bed and taught him exactly how she liked to be eaten. Jake learned fast. When she came on his tongue she pulled him up, flipped onto her stomach, and told him to fuck her from behind while she described the girl with the sleeve tattoos who’d gone down on her in the back room of the parlor last month.
He did. Hard. Deep. When he came the third time he stayed buried and filled her completely, then pulled out slow so he could watch it leak out of her swollen cunt. Lily reached back, scooped some of the mess onto her fingers, and fed it to him. Then she rolled over, pulled him down, and kissed the taste into his mouth.
They kept going until the light started to change. Risky. Filthy. Everything the afternoon had promised when Jake first walked through the door and saw his sister’s bare tits under that thin tank top. By the time they finally staggered into the shower together—bodies still sticky, still hard, still hungry—the living-room TV had long since gone to sleep mode. The only evidence left was the damp spot on the couch and the faint scent of sex that neither of them bothered to open a window for.
Parents would be home in an hour.
They still had time for one more round against the tiled wall, Lily’s legs wrapped around Jake’s waist, his cock buried deep, her mouth open against his ear telling him exactly how much cum she wanted on her face before they cleaned up.
He gave it to her.
Every drop.
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