My Sister Swallows

My sister swallows. She brings home boyfriends, strangers, and a few of her friends' beloveds, giving them all what others won't. She kneels at the foot of her bed and takes them, swallowing what they give before sending them on their way, back to whatever lives they have. When they've gone, she lies back against the bed and claws out her pleasure with their taste no doubt still on her lips.

I, in turn, take mine, lurking outside her door, looking through an aged keyhole, feeling none of the shame and guilt I no doubt should. After all, what normal person watches their little sister suck and swallow for a string of strange men, or perhaps more accurately a string of strange cocks, and frigs herself in the hallway instead of having a nice long talk with the poor misguided creature about the nature of sexually transmitted infections and not being a gigantic cumslut? Still, with my hand pressed into my panties, my throat tight, I cum time and time again dreaming of things best left unsaid. College life didn't bring me the lusty aggression it brought my freshman sibling, but it certainly brought me the lust, so I take my pleasures where I can get them.

Today, she seems to have found a rough one. She kisses him briefly, but he forces her to her knees with little ceremony. My breath catches in my throat - these were my favorites. The ones that knew what they'd come for and didn't want it dressed up in flowery wrapping paper. Judging by the look on her face, the look she was carefully but imperfectly concealing, she didn't mind them, either.

Once he has her down and looking up at him with the big saucery eyes I've seen her practicing in the mirror, applying and removing makeup until the effect is perfect, he strips completely. A black shirt seems to disappear from his chest in a flash, dropped onto her unceremoniously. She picks it off her rather delicately and tosses it aside as he steps out of his pants, revealing a hardened physique which is as pleasant as it is irrelevant to all of this. She's still clothed, the powder blue top and pleated black skirt she wears to seem innocent but which I assure you makes her look more like a fashion disaster than a creature of moral fiber. Still, what do boys know about fashion? They're just glad that they get a glimpse up her skirt when the Seattle winds catch it. Of course, they never get more than that glimpse - she doesn't bring them back to our shared dwelling for that. I always wonder (hope?) if she'll get cum on it, but she almost never does. Clearly she's had more practice at holding it in than the rest of us...

Her eyes still showing an utterly false image of trepidation and curiosity, she leans forward and catches the tip of his cock, beginning to give up his taste, with the very tip her tongue, a gentle and coquettish touch which nonetheless has an impact on him. When his eyes close, she giggles and pulls away, still playing coy. He smiles down on her, enjoying the corruption of this innocent little thing, and she rewards him with a more confident lick from the bottom of his hanging balls all the way up again to the tip of his impressive prick, the flat of her tongue making his ass tense and his nostrils flair briefly. When she gets where she's going, she looks up at him once again, letting him rest on his tongue, the edges of her mouth slightly upturned in an approximation of a smile.

At this moment he begins to realize that he's been had, his unsullied virgin bearing intensely into his eyes, daring him test her. He smirks down and her, clearly bemused at her little game, and pulls her head onto him, his not-insubstantial member pushing in at an even but ungentle pace as she closes her lips around him, giving up the mind games. My throat contracts a bit as I imagine the feel of him at the back of hers. I resist the urge to pleasure myself. There's still plenty more to this show.

She puts her hands on this thighs, fingers hyper-extended in what seems to be the international symbol for 'please don't fuck my throat,' and he obliges her, pulling her head back off of him until her lips begin to purse around his head, the ruby lipstick shining obscenely as he savors the feeling of pressure on the rim of him. This is a process I understand mostly through watching her. I tried it, once, after the first time I watched, let a close friend have his way with my mouth, but the slow, sensual, talented use of hers is an entirely different thing, indeed, and watching the faces which are almost incidentally attached to her stream of pricks as she plies her talents is an exquisite envy.

When he pulls free it's with a tiny sound of pleasure, seemingly involuntary, and a gentle but audible pop as pressure is released. She smiles evilly up at him again and I start to get wet with the sense of her abilities building. I lick my lips and wish for the fiftieth time that they were put to a very different use. Her expression changes, a hint of the false innocence coming back to taunt him. When she's certain he's noticed, she grips his ass with the nails I'm pretty sure she grows for the purpose and pushes herself forward onto him suddenly, dragging his hand, still tangled in her hair, forward, allowing herself a little squeak of what might be pleasure.

He loses his composure at this, moaning like a girl. Quickly his lost masculinity returns with a vengeance, and he reverts to his animal instincts. He begins to thrust into her mouth, a bit further each time until I hear half-gags at the apex of each insertion become audible even to me. It's this moment where I can't resist and put my hand up my skirt, closing my eyes for a moment when I find my clit through my panties, soaking through them with the image of a creature in that moment as much beast as man fucking my sister's throat like she's little more than an unusually noisy, slippery sex toy.

As the gagging sounds get worse, or perhaps better, I see his balls start to move up towards his body. I briefly regret that I won't get to see them swing forward to slap humiliatingly against her chin, but he's far too long for her to take him anyway. He's still a ways from coming, but it's an inevitability now. He's going to use my beautiful little sister's red lips and willing tongue to get himself off, and when he's done she's going to swallow down what he gives her. All that's still in question is who is in control, and who will be when all is said and done.

Her hands move around to this thighs again, slapping at them with increasing commitment as her body begins to rebel at his treatment of it. This time he doesn't pay attention, though, and her throat opens for him, if not welcomingly at least willingly. Deep down I like these the best, the ones where her mascara starts to run just a little and the beasts she brings to our rental can't help but use all of her to best advantage. I remind myself for the umpteenth time that she could bite if she really wanted to, though the justification hardly matters as my own breath grows short in time with the thrusting creature's.

She doesn't seem to be hating it as much as she once was either, gently playing those nails over his testis, one dipping to stroke the bit just behind. Her gentleness contrasts with his increasing power as he loses control of himself. Her other hand is slapping at his thigh noncommittally, and I can hear her gagging again and again, faster until it's an almost continuous sound, music to my ears. My throat tightens more, almost painfully. I look closer and see her nipples are hard underneath the blouse which she really ought to have worn a bra with.

I smile wickedly, her smile, and watch as his ass tenses up, the tanned muscles suddenly sharply defined. I can tell he's coming the second it starts because her eyes go wide and she tries to pull off of him. It's a show, I know, but even I'm drawn in as his hand tangles firmly in her hair and he holds her freshly-fucked lips on him. She makes something between a moan and a squeal, genuinely shocked at how much he is giving her, and closes her eyes tight, her face contorting. My eyes glue to her face as her throat contracts. I watch as she alternately gags and swallows, revelling in my favorite part of the show. I'm so close as I watch her struggle, the hint of shame tugging at the back of my mind doing very little to dull the sensation of my mouth and cunt watering sympathetically. I swallow down the saliva and for a moment swear I taste the salty-sweet mixture the pitiful, powerful beauty I'm watching is very nearly drowning in. When I gag watching her do the same, I cum so hard I very nearly cry out. The very moment I crest he forces himself into the back of her throat one last time, leaving her coughing as much to prove he can as to eke out a last stirring of pleasure. It's one of the only genuine reactions he's dragged out of her, though he likely doesn't know it.

I know what comes next. She calls him an asshole and shows him the tears in her eyes, mostly fake. He gets no chance to apologize, though having watched him use my baby sister (the girl whose first course signup I'd explained only months ago, the one whose first sip of hard liquor had been with me to celebrate her first day, the one I was absolutely certain was a virgin princess when she arrived but who clearly wasn't any longer...) the way he did I suspect he isn't the type to. He's thrown out unceremoniously, his cock drained and his usefulness outlived. By the time her door opens for him to make his exit (he'll have to dress in the living room, his wilting cock in view of the neighbors) I'm off my knees and hiding in the bathroom. She, I have no doubt, is where he left her, wiping her mouth and her clit, getting what she really brings them for.

Alexis Darlington has published other erotic short stories on Amazon.