Skip to content This is part 2 of Sister’s Sex Toys. For part 1: Sister’s Vibrator
*****
When I woke up, the first thing I did was touch the spot on my sheets where she’d come last night. The second thing I did was press my palm flat against the mattress and wonder if I could get her to jerk me off again, except this time for longer.
I didn’t jerk off, not right away. I was curious if I could last the morning without it. The answer was no, but I made it to the third TikTok doomscroll before I caved. I pulled the covers down and let it rest out on my thigh and just sat with it for a while, letting it get hard. I thought about her face. I thought about the way she spread her knees and then called me a perv for looking. The smell had faded, but my cock remembered every detail of her hand, slick with her own mess, stroking me in even pulls until I shot over both of us.
I’d never come so hard in my life. I’d told myself it was just curiosity, a brother-sister thing, not incest if there wasn’t penetration. I told myself that a lot of things aren’t incest if you squint hard enough. None of them stuck this morning.
I started slow, just a lazy up and down over the morning wood. I let myself think about how her tits pressed out her tank, the way her nipples stabbed through, and then I thought about the gap when she bent over. I thought about her thighs, wet, the taste of her smell when I’d gotten close, even though I’d pretended I wasn’t breathing it in.
I made myself stop after a minute. I wanted to save it in case she came back. I closed my eyes and waited for her moan through the wall. It didn’t come. Instead, the door slammed open.
She came in nude. Totally nude, no attempt at hiding, like it was a prank. Her pussy was shaved now instead of hairy, a little red from the night before, but she didn’t cover it up. Her tits were out, the tan line like a watermark, nipples hard in the cool air. She padded over to my bed, phone in one hand, and didn’t even hesitate before sitting on the edge and tucking a leg under. She wasn’t blushing. She wasn’t even trying to be sexy. She was just naked, and I was the one with the problem.
I said, “You need something?”
She turned her phone to me. There was a website up, one of those popup-plagued sex toy stores, all neon fonts and bad photos. She didn’t say anything, just thumbed to the product list and flicked her finger to scroll. Vibrating panties. Butt plug. Anal beads. She stopped on one of the gifs, just a loop of some girl in mesh, writhing on a hotel bed.
She said, “Order these.”
I tried to think of something clever but nothing arrived. “You’re kidding.”
She didn’t blink. “You owe me.”
“For what? I did what you wanted last night.”
“That was the deal for the batteries.” She dropped the phone on my pillow and got up on her knees, facing me. “This is a new favor.”
I said, “Get a job.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m not walking into a store and buying that shit, and I’m not ordering it either. Just order it.” She said it like this was a totally normal conversation, like I was her Amazon Prime plug and not the guy who’d just spent five minutes trying not to cum to the memory of her pussy.
“You could just do it yourself, you know. It’s not illegal for girls to shop online.”
She said, “I don’t want Mom getting the packages.” She paused. “Or the tracking cookies. Your browser is already a war crime, it’s not like it’ll make a difference.” She was right, but I wasn’t going to admit it.
I scrolled through the page. Vibrating panties, check. The butt plug was bigger than I expected, which made me blink. The anal beads were black silicone, and the demo girl had a look on her face like someone had just paid her tuition for this photo set. The price tag for all three was seventy bucks. I could afford it, but that wasn’t the issue.
“What do I get out of this?” I said.
She arched an eyebrow. She looked at my lap, which was still tenting my covers, then back at me. She didn’t say anything for a few seconds, just let the silence settle. She said, “You want to fuck me, don’t you?”
I almost dropped the phone. “What the hell.”
She shrugged, totally naked, tits out, and didn’t care. “Last night you could have said stop at any time. You didn’t.”
“That doesn’t mean I want—” I started.
“It does,” she said, “You just don’t want to be the one who asks.”
She grabbed my hand and set it on her thigh, like she was proving a point. Her skin was warm, smooth except for the goosebumps. She didn’t move it higher, but she didn’t let go either. “Buy me the stuff and I’ll let you fuck me.” She said it quiet, like she was daring herself as much as me.
“You mean like, for real?”
She licked her lips. “You can even do it raw, if you want.”
I wanted to. Every part of me wanted to. Every part except the one that still thought it was maybe possible to go back to a normal life after this.
I said, “Fine.”
She smiled, not nice. She squeezed my wrist, then let it drop. “You’re the best,” she said. She slid off the bed and padded out of my room, hips swaying a little more than necessary. I saw the line between her legs, the way her ass dimpled when she walked. She left the door open.
I placed the order. It was the fastest I’d ever checked out in my life. Express shipping. The site said “Discreet Packaging,” which sounded like a lie, but I risked it.
The rest of the morning passed like a dare I couldn’t win. I made coffee. I avoided the living room because she was sprawled on the couch, still naked, streaming Love Island reruns with the volume up. I could see the curve of her side-boob from the kitchen. I could see the way her legs opened and shut, toes curling into the couch, one arm tossed behind her head.
At noon she went back to her room. I heard the shower. I heard the moan again. I was so hard my balls turned blue.
The toys were scheduled to arrive next day. I didn’t know if I could wait that long. I spent the afternoon trying not to imagine what she’d look like with a plug in her ass.
I was in my room, doomscrolling, when she came back in.
This time she wore clothes, a crop tank and boyshorts, but it made her look more naked. She had her phone again, but the screen was off.
She said, “You ordered it?”
I nodded.
She said, “Good. Because I’m not letting you fuck me until it gets here. So, you know. Anticipation or whatever.”
*****
The next day was agony. Every time I heard a car outside, I thought it was the package. Every time she walked past me in the hall, I smelled her shampoo and wanted to bury my face in her neck.
At 3:17 PM, the doorbell rang. She beat me to the door by four seconds. She signed for it, and I watched her walk back into the kitchen, box held against her chest. She set it on the table and peeled it open. She made a little sound of victory.
Then we went to my room, her holding the vibrating panties while leaving the rest of the toys in her bedroom. They were black lace, cheap but not tacky. She dangled them from a finger. In her other hand she had the remote. She stepped out of her shorts. She peeled them down and off, then tugged the tank up and over her head. Naked again, just like that. She stepped into the panties and pulled them up her thighs, wiggling her hips so they snapped into place. They didn’t cover much. You could see the outline of her lips, the faint bump of the bullet vibe in the crotch.
She tossed me the remote. “You’re in charge.”
I turned the dial. The panties buzzed. Her eyes widened. She pressed her hand between her legs, like it was too much. She sat down on my bed, knees clamped together.
“Is it good?” I said.
She nodded. She kept her hand over the panties, rubbing slow, almost like she forgot I was there. She shivered and then made a little sound. It was the wall noise, but right in front of me.
I turned it up. She gasped.
She said, “You’re such a freak.”
I said, “Takes one to know one.”
She dug her heels into the mattress, rocking her hips. Her tits bounced. She slid her hand up to pinch a nipple. Her face got red, her lips parted. She moaned, louder this time.
I kept turning the dial. I wanted to see what happened if she lost control.
She grabbed my arm. She dragged my hand to the waistband of the panties. “Inside,” she said. Her voice was shaking.
I slipped my fingers under the lace. She was wet, soaked. I pressed the tip of my finger against her clit, felt the buzz through my bones. I slid a finger in. She clamped down so hard it hurt. I curled it, and she moaned.
She came on my hand, juice running down my palm, soaking the panties and the bedsheet. I kept the vibrator going until she shoved my wrist away.
She lay there, panting. Her legs were shaking. The smell was incredible.
She looked at me, and there was a wet shine on her cheeks, not tears, just sweat and afterglow.
She said, “You’re so hard it’s stupid.”
I looked down. I was tenting the shorts. She reached over and tugged them down, slow, teasing. My cock slapped up against my belly, wet at the tip.
She grabbed it in both hands. She stroked, slow, using the slick from her own pussy. She smeared it all over the shaft, twisting her grip at the head.
She said, “You ready?”
I should have said no. I said, “About time.”
She lay back on my bed in those cheap black panties and pulled the crotch aside with two fingers. That was the whole ceremony. My sister’s pussy, swollen from the vibe, shiny, the lips darker than last night, open because she’d already come on my hand. I shoved the shorts the rest of the way off and got between her thighs. The head of my cock lined up against her and I felt how wet she was, how easy it would be, and the only thought left was: that’s Lila. That’s your sister. I pushed in. She was tight even soaked. The first inch stretched her. I watched it happen, the way her hole had to take me, pale skin going taut around the head, then swallowing, then another inch. She hissed through her teeth and grabbed my shoulder. I bottomed out in one long slide and stayed there, buried in my little sister, balls against the soaked lace.
“Fuck,” she whispered. “That’s … you’re in me.”
“I know.”
I knew. I could feel her around me, hot, twitching from the orgasm she hadn’t finished coming down from. I pulled back and the drag was filthy, slick, the kind of wet that makes a sound in a quiet room. I pushed in again. Her tits shifted. Her mouth fell open. I put a hand next to her head on my own pillow and fucked her.
I fucked my sister like I’d been listening through the wall for months and this was the only way to make it stop. Deep strokes, her knees hooked my hips, and every time I sank in I thought the word sister and it made me harder instead of stopping me. The panties cut into her hip where she’d yanked them aside. The bullet was still warm against my stomach when I ground down.
“Jack, wait, no, don’t stop—”
I didn’t stop. I hooked her knee higher and the angle changed and she got louder, the same voice that used to rattle the frame above my pillow, except now it was under me and I was the reason. Her pussy clenched when I went deep. Honey ran down onto my sheets, onto my balls, onto the lace. I could smell her, that sweet-musky smell from the bathroom, from last night, from the inside of her.
“You’re fucking me,” she said, like she needed it said. “You’re actually fucking me.”
“You’re my sister.”
“I know. Keep going.”
I did. The bed complained. Her nails bit my back. I looked down and watched myself disappear into her, pull out shiny, drive back in. Incest. Not a joke. Not a handjob you could squint at. I was raw in Lila, no condom, no pull-out plan, just the wet clutch of her and the fact that Mom was somewhere in the city and the door wasn’t locked well enough.
She came again with me inside her. Her whole body went tight and her pussy milked me in little pulls that wrecked the last of my control. She made that punched-out sound and I felt her spill around my cock, hotter, sloppier.
“I’m gonna—”
“In me,” she said. “Don’t you dare pull out.”
I slammed in to the base and came in my sister, hard enough my vision tunneled. Pulse after pulse, raw, pumping into her while she held me there with her heels. I kept grinding through it, emptying everything I’d saved that morning, everything I’d told myself wasn’t incest if we didn’t do this.
I stayed in her until it stopped. When I pulled out it was slow. She was open, pink, used, and I watched my cum leak out of her onto the panties and the sheet.
She looked at the mess, then at me, flushed and mean and satisfied.
“Guess the toys were worth it,” she said.
I dropped next to her, still shaking, and put a hand on her stomach. I could feel how hard I was still thinking about what I’d just put in her. “It was definitely worth it.”
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