Skip to content If anyone asked me what it was like living with my older sister, I could give them the short answer, “insufferable” or the long answer, which would be a novel-length confession I’d never actually say out loud. When you’ve got a sibling like Sophie, the only thing you learn fast is how to deal with frustration.
Here’s a taste of a normal week at our house. Mom leaves early for her job at the clinic and comes home late, which means that for most of the day the house is just me, Sophie, and whatever questionable hookup she’s dragged in from the night before. Most days, by the time I get back from class, Sophie’s either “napping” (her euphemism for getting dicked down by someone she met online), or prowling the kitchen in an outfit that could start a riot at any all-boys’ high school.
I’ll be honest, it used to annoy the shit out of me. Not the hookups, the fact that Sophie couldn’t even wait for the ink to dry on her high school diploma before she started her “adult career” as a full-time bimbo was predictable. No, it was the way she made being a total slut look like an Olympic sport. She didn’t just wear short shorts; she wore them with her ass cheeks poking out and her hands “accidentally” tugging them higher whenever I looked. She didn’t just wear tank tops; she cut out the sides so you could see the outline of her tits when she leaned across the counter. Every guy she brought home, she made sure to parade past me first, like she wanted me to see exactly how hard she was getting railed every night.
I’d love to say I was above it. But even the best of us crack eventually.
Case in point: Tuesday night. I’d just finished a run, my attempt to sweat out the horniness that had become a permanent feature of my existence, and was slumping up the porch steps when I heard Sophie’s room rattling like a washing machine with a brick inside. The headboard thudded against the wall. The guy’s voice, a deep frat-boy baritone, grunted so loud I could hear it from the kitchen. Then Sophie, shrieking and giggling like she was doing it for an audience, which she basically was, since the paper-thin drywall turned every moan into a megaphone.
I dropped my gym bag in the hall and tried to tune it out. Did some pushups, washed up, but the noises got worse, then better, then stopped altogether. After a minute I peeked in the fridge, and that’s when the door to her room squeaked open.
He stumbled out first. Tall, sweaty, not bad-looking but with that raw red face of someone who’d just had all the blood sucked out of his body and relocated south. He gave me the half-nod and did the Walk of Shame past the family photos and out the door. I almost felt bad for him.
Then Sophie strutted out, completely naked, holding her phone and texting like nothing had happened. Her hair was a mess, long and chestnut-brown, sticking up in places like she’d been struck by lightning, and her tits bounced with every step. She had the kind of body you don’t see outside of porn or those IG thirst traps you pretend not to follow. Big, perfect boobs that could smother a grown man. A flat, tan stomach with an innie belly button and that faint shadow of ab definition. And then, of course, her ass: a thick, round peach that never stayed inside her shorts for long. She was freshly waxed everywhere, and her pussy was so puffy and pink you could probably see it from orbit.
She didn’t even look up from her phone as she walked past. “You want anything from DoorDash?” she called out.
I said, “I’ll make eggs or something.”
She shot me a smirk. “Kinda late for breakfast, don’t you think?”
“More like early for dinner.”
She rolled her eyes and wiggled her ass at me as she disappeared down the hall. The whole exchange took under ten seconds, but I still had to wait five minutes before my hard-on went away enough to stand up and risk walking to the kitchen.
That was normal. That was my life.
If you want to know when everything went from bad to biblical, it started a couple weeks later, the Thursday Mom left for her wellness retreat, and Sophie decided she was going to one-up herself in the slut department.
It was already late when I got home from my shift at the gym. The house was dark except for the dim glow under Sophie’s door, and the TV was muted on some Netflix menu. I could’ve gone to bed, but I was wired from chugging pre-workout all afternoon, so I wandered down the hall to see if I could catch Sophie in one of her less-annoying moods. Sometimes, after a good lay, she’d be chill and funny, even affectionate, like the version of her from when we were kids. I guess that’s what I was hoping for.
Instead, I heard voices. Not arguing, just a low, steady murmur. At first I thought she had a guy in there, but then I realized she was talking to someone on speaker. I stepped closer, careful not to creak the old floorboards.
A second later, she giggled, this fake-laugh I’d heard her use on every single dude she ever met. “Like this?” she said, and then I heard a very different kind of sound: a slick, wet squelch and a gasp.
I froze. There was silence, then more squelching, faster this time. Another giggle then a moan. “You like that?” she whispered, way quieter than she needed to be. The mattress started to creak, just a little, rhythmic. I recognized the sound from years of living down the hall from her, but this was the first time I’d ever eavesdropped like a fucking creep.
I couldn’t help myself. I pressed my ear closer. A slap. “Say it. Tell me what you want to see.” The voice was muffled, but Sophie answered like a pro, “You wanna see my tits, don’t you?” Another slap, then more wet noises. “Oh my god, I’m so wet,” she moaned.
Now I was hard as a diamond. I didn’t know who she was talking to, a boyfriend, some rich perv from the internet or maybe just a stranger, but whatever the truth was, I’d never heard her put on a show like this. It was… mesmerizing.
Then, without warning, the door flew open.
I jerked back so hard I smacked my head on the wall. Sophie leaned in the doorway, still naked, face flushed and eyes wide with surprise. She had her phone propped on a tripod, pointing at the bed. Next to it was a gigantic dildo, glistening wet and balanced upright like a missile ready for launch. Her tits were covered in lotion, nipples hard enough to cut glass. Even her thighs were shiny.
She stared at me for a second then grinned. “You like watching, huh?”
I stammered, “I was just … I thought … I didn’t—”
“Don’t be such a prude, Alex. You’re the only guy in the house who’s never seen me naked before. At least, not on purpose.”
I tried to look away, but my eyes snapped back every time to her tits, then her pussy, then back to her face. She loved it.
She leaned in closer, lowering her voice. “Wanna help me film the next scene?”
I jumped backwards. “You’re joking.”
She shrugged then started rubbing lotion onto her tits, right in front of me. “You think I haven’t noticed you jerking off in the shower, bro?” She emphasized the bro like she was using it as a punchline. “Not very subtle.”
I felt my cheeks burn. I wanted to run, but something in my brain made me stay … some sick, animal curiosity.
She grinned and closed the door, but not before giving me a wink. “You’re welcome to watch anytime,” she whispered.
I barely made it back to my room before I came in my pants.
*****
The next day was… weird. I avoided her at breakfast, but she was already dressed for the gym when I came out, tight white leggings that turned see-through over her ass, a tiny pink sports bra that did nothing to hide her nipples. She had her hair up, no makeup, still somehow looked like a sex doll with a functional IQ. She poured herself a shake and drank it in slow, exaggerated gulps, locking eyes with me the whole time.
“You got plans tonight?” she asked.
“Just lifting with Jason.”
“Cool. I might have a friend over.” She winked. “Or two. You okay if I use the living room?”
I shrugged, pretending I wasn’t staring at her cleavage. “It’s your house too.”
She waited until I was about to leave, then called out, “Hey, Alex?”
I turned.
She lowered her voice. “Next time you wanna watch, just come in. Don’t be a pussy about it.”
Then she smirked and left for the gym, her ass wobbling in the see-through fabric.
I hated how hard it made me.
*****
That became the new normal. For weeks, Sophie escalated her game. First, she started “forgetting” to close the bathroom door when she showered. Then, she left her dirty panties on the laundry room floor, right on top, lacy and still damp, like she wanted me to see, and maybe smell, them. She texted me selfies, half-dressed, with captions like, Does this make me look slutty? or Oops, lost my bra again. Once, she even sent me a pic of her bent over the kitchen counter, naked except for high heels, with the caption, Breakfast is ready 😉 I almost broke my phone in half trying to delete it before Mom saw.
Mom, for the record, never cared. If she noticed Sophie’s antics, she treated it like a phase, like letting your kid dye their hair blue, but with more tits and less rebellion. “I wish I was as confident at your age,” she told Sophie once, and that was that.
Meanwhile, I was losing my fucking mind. Every day it got harder to pretend I was grossed out or annoyed. I started having dreams about her. Woke up most mornings with the sheets clinging to my hard-on, the scent of her lotion still in the air. More than once, I found myself jacking off in the shower, biting my own fist to keep from moaning her name.
The line between hating it and loving it blurred fast.
*****
Things finally exploded on the night of Sophie’s twenty-second birthday. She went out with her friends, stayed out late, and came home wasted. I was watching TV in the dark, half-asleep, when the front door slammed and she crashed into the entryway.
“Fuck,” she muttered, kicking off her heels. She had on the world’s tiniest black dress, barely covered her ass, definitely didn’t cover her tits. Her makeup was smeared, and her hair looked like someone had spent the whole night pulling on it. She didn’t see me right away.
I started to get up, but she held up a hand. “Shhh. Be cool, Alex. Just… gimme a sec.”
She staggered into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of water, downed it in one gulp. Then she slumped against the counter and groaned. “God, I hate men.”
I snorted. “That’s rich coming from you.”
She shot me a glare, but then her face softened and she started to laugh. “Okay, fair. But for real, they’re all assholes.”
She stumbled into the living room and flopped onto the couch beside me, legs splayed open. The dress rode up high enough to show everything. She wasn’t wearing panties, of course. Her pussy was shaved bare and already kind of puffy, and I tried not to stare but it was literally two feet from my face.
She leaned her head on my shoulder. “You ever have one of those nights where you just need to fuck so bad, but every guy in the world is too dumb to make it happen?”
“Can’t say I’ve had that exact problem.”
She giggled, then looked up at me, eyes bloodshot but weirdly clear. “Bet you have. You’re a guy. You get horny too.”
I shrugged. “Yeah, sometimes.”
She studied me for a second. “Bet you’re horny right now.”
Her hand landed on my thigh, way too close to my crotch. I felt my body tense, and she noticed.
She whispered, “Do you think I’m hot?”
I froze. She never, ever asked that. Not seriously. She stared, waiting for an answer.
I nodded. “Yeah. You know you’re hot.”
She smiled, slow and wolfish. “You ever jerk off to me?”
My heart stopped. “What?”
“You heard me. You ever jerk off thinking about me? About your slutty sister?”
I was half-hard already, and now I was hard enough that my jeans hurt. She pressed her hand right up against my cock, still outside my pants, and started rubbing.
“You can say it, Alex. I won’t tell anyone.”
I couldn’t speak. I just nodded.
She licked her lips. “Good. ‘Cause I’ve been thinking about you, too.”
She yanked my zipper down and fished out my cock, stroking it with both hands, so fast and rough I nearly shot in her face right there. She giggled and leaned down, licking a fat stripe up the underside, then sucking the tip into her mouth like she was dying of thirst.
It was the dirtiest blowjob I’d ever gotten. She looked up at me while she sucked, eyes wide, drool dripping down her chin. She moaned like she was the one getting off. Every time I tried to say her name, she bobbed faster, choking herself on it until I nearly blacked out.
“Fuck, Sophie, I’m gonna—”
She pulled off and spat a line of spit over my cock, then used it as lube to jerk me off. “Cum for your big sister,” she whispered. “Be a good boy and give me all of it.”
She gave me no time to abort. Instead, I came so hard I thought I was going to pass out.
She caught it all in her hand, smeared it on her tits, then licked it off her fingers. “Mmmm. Tastes like family,” she said, grinning.
I didn’t even have time to be mortified, because she stood up, straddled my lap, and shoved her pussy in my face. “Now you,” she said.
“We shouldn’t be doing this—”
She just pushed her pussy against my face, and I couldn’t resist licking her. She tasted like musk and gin and something so much better than I’d ever imagined. I licked her, and she ground her hips into my mouth, calling me a, “good little brother,” and moaning loud enough for the neighbors to hear.
After a minute she pulled me up by my hair and said, “Fuck me, Alex. Fuck your sister like a real man.”
“Christ, Sophie,” I said, wiping her honey off my lips. “We can’t cross this line.”
“Oh yeah, we can,” she said, straddling my lap and pushing her tits against my face.
I palmed her ass, my cock was already hardening. “Can we at least go to the bedroom?”
“Nope, Mom isn’t home anyway. I like it filthy, so we do it on the couch.” She turned around and bent over the couch, ass high in the air, and looked over her shoulder at me. “Do it,” she begged. “I want you to cum inside me. I wanna be full of my baby brother’s cock.”
My hands shook as I gripped her thick ass, spreading her cheeks. Her pussy was soaked, swollen and glistening. I pressed the head of my cock against her entrance and pushed forward.
The stretch was insane. Sophie’s pussy was tighter than I ever imagined, gripping me like a fist as I sank in. No wonder guys were crazy about her. She let out a long, throaty moan, pushing back against me until my hips met her ass and I was buried to the balls.
“Fuuuuck, Alex…” she gasped. “You’re so thick… stretching your sister’s pussy so good.”
I groaned, the feeling overwhelming. Her walls fluttered and clenched around every inch of me. I started thrusting, watching my cock disappear between her round cheeks. The wet, filthy sounds of her soaked pussy filled the living room with every slap of skin on skin.
Sophie pushed back harder, fucking herself on me. “Harder, little brother. Don’t be gentle. Fuck your slutty sister like you mean it.”
I lost control. I grabbed her hips and started pounding her, deep and rough. Her big tits swung beneath her, slapping together. Every thrust made her ass ripple. Her moans turned into desperate cries as I railed her from behind.
“Yes! Right there … oh my god, you’re hitting so deep!”
I reached around and rubbed her clit while I fucked her. Her legs started shaking. She was dripping down my balls, the couch getting soaked beneath us.
“Flip me over,” she panted. “I want to see your face when you cum inside me.”
I pulled out, my cock glistening with her juices, and flipped her onto her back on the couch. She spread her legs wide, holding her knees open for me. Her pussy was red and puffy, visibly stretched from my cock. I climbed between her thighs and slammed back inside in one hard thrust.
Missionary felt even more intense. I could see everything, her flushed face, her bouncing tits and the way her pussy stretched obscenely around my thick shaft. I fucked her deep, grinding against her clit with every stroke.
“Fuck, Sophie… you feel so good,” I groaned.
She wrapped her legs around my waist, pulling me deeper. “Cum in me, Alex. Fill your big sister up. I want your cum dripping out of me.”
Her words pushed me over the edge. The pressure built fast, my balls tightening. I fucked her harder, the couch creaking violently under us.
Then I buried myself as deep as I could and exploded. My cock pulsed violently, shooting thick, powerful ropes of cum straight into her womb. I kept thrusting through it, grinding deep, pumping load after load into her tight, clenching pussy. The sensation was mind-blowing: hot, wet and intensely taboo. I could feel my cum filling her, some of it already leaking out around my shaft with every thrust.
Sophie cried out as she came with me, her pussy spasming hard around my pulsing cock, milking every last drop. Her whole body shook, nails digging into my back as waves of pleasure tore through her.
We stayed locked together, panting, my cock still buried deep inside her as the last spurts drained into her. When I finally pulled out, a thick white river of my cum oozed from her stretched, gaping pussy and ran down between her ass cheeks onto the couch.
Sophie looked up at me, flushed and glowing, a wicked, satisfied smile on her face. She reached down, scooped some of my cum from her pussy, and brought it to her lips, licking it off her fingers.
“Hmm… my baby brother tastes good,” she purred. “We’re definitely doing this again.”
I collapsed beside her, still catching my breath, my mind reeling.
Afterwards, we just lay there on the couch, sweaty and tangled up, both of us breathing hard.
She rolled over, grinned at me, and said, “You know I’m gonna make you do that again, right?”
I nodded. I didn’t even try to hide my smile.
She kissed me then whispered, “God, you’re such a fucking perv. I love it.”
That was the night I learned I’d never have to be frustrated again.
Not as long as Sophie was around.
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