Defending Sis
I was sitting in my recliner watching the finals of a cricket competition on TV. Literally sitting on edge, because the game was so delicately poised, it could go anyway. I wanted badly for it to go the way of my team because I had bet money on them -- money I could ill afford to lose because I was jobless going on a month and had just enough savings to pay my rent and keep me fed for about three or four months if I was really frugal. If my team won, the winnings would cover another three months, giving me ample time to find something. I'd taken a chance and went for the big odds on the underdog, betting on them three games past to win those three games and then the finals.
I felt my phone vibrating for about the tenth time. I had been disregarding all calls and message alerts over the past hour, glancing at them only during over breaks in the game, but replying to none. Four of them had been from my ex-girlfriend I'd recently broken up with, just before I'd been laid off. She'd been seeking a makeup, saying she could help me financially until I got another job. I wasn't interested -- it was over.
I'm not superstitious, but It was like I could feel the urgency in the vibrating phone, and thought I heard an ominous little voice telling that I had to answer this one. I reached for the phone. It was my younger, pretty and, also pretty troublesome sister Kylah. I felt chills run through me as her anxious voice asked me to come immediately to the club where she worked as a dancer. She said I was the only one she could think of who would help her. Her boyfriend had moments ago threatened to drag her outside and beat her if she didn't agree to do what he wanted her to do. He'd taken money from a rich older guy, in exchange for Kylah spending the night in a hotel room with him. Kylah was adamant that she had never prostituted herself during her year as a pole and lap dancer and had no intention of doing it.
The club was only five minutes away; my apartment was in the heart of the city. As I sped along the busy Friday night streets, I was thinking of what Kylah told me and felt a sense of relief that she had not sunk as low as the rest of the family, including myself, believed she had. She had been wild and rebellious, since finishing high school, and eventually moved out of the family home at nineteen. She was now twenty two, six years my junior. I knew for a fact that she'd slept with a lot of guys over the years. She was not on talking terms with most of the family, and I hadn't spoken to her in two years, but it was touching that she thought I would stand up for her. She was right, we might not be on good terms, but I'd risk my life for her if need be.
I pulled up in front of the club and felt immediately that the commotion was about Kylah. I was right. Persons were busy recording as a guy was slapping and dragging my sister by her hair. I rushed in and tried dragging him away. I could easily have knocked him out from behind, but didn't, for a reason. I wanted him to make the mistake of hitting the peacemaker first. He did -- once, twice, and then I went to work, quickly and clinically making a mess of his face, ribs, shoulders, belly and genitals. He was going to be out of action for some time. I also threw his friend against a store wall where he slumped to the ground and remained, after he'd sucker punched me. I was an ex-army guy, and also to my credit, years of martial arts training at competition level.
I asked persons filming the assault to forward the video to my phone. Several of them volunteered and I gave them my number. Kylah let us into her apartment, and we collected her clothes and some other belongings. She went to where the guy kept his money stashed and cleaned him out, saying it was really money she had earned dancing. He didn't work anywhere, and she'd been handing over all the money she made at nights to him, for the past year. Apparently he wasn't satisfied with that, and now wanted to pimp her out.
Back at my apartment I helped Kylah attend to her bruises and cut lip with medication we'd picked up from a pharmacy. She had stripped down to bra and panties for the treatment. She was an eyeful of sensuality, but I was more concerned with her well-being, than the enticing treat before my eyes, despite the familiar stirrings. The apartment had only one bedroom, but also had a pull-out sofa bed that I'd been using at another shared apartment before renting my own. I told Kylah she could use that to sleep but could put away her other stuff in my room. After we'd fixed her up she showered and emerged from my room in a sheer, white babydoll nightie with matching thong. It failed to fully cover both her crotch and plump, high ass.
Kylah was a beauty, period. A bit short at five feet four and slightly chubby around the mid-section, which gave her a girlish look and the added mystery of persons wondering if she was slightly pregnant -- unusual figure for a dancer, but I'd heard that she was extremely good at her job. She had nicely rounded slim-thick thighs and shapely legs. Her butt was a fluffy delight. Her breasts were full, round, C-cup beauties. They were now clearly visible, stout nips and all, through the sheer nightie. Her partly monolid eyes were sparkling -- our dad was half Chinese, part Indian and part black. Our mom, a light-skinned, mostly black, woman. Kylah's face bore our dad's family trademark, squareness, set with black eyes, and straight nose. She had her own special attraction of full, bow lips.
I had to use all my will power to keep from gazing too fixedly at her as she moved about. I wondered if she was aware that the visible panty crotch had slipped away on one side, revealing half of the clean shaven vulva.
We sat drinking aged brown rum and ginger ale while snacking on mixed nuts. I found out that my team had won the cricket match, and that served as added aphrodisiac. Kylah shared my delight, and we celebrated, halving the bottle by the time we decided to go to bed. I was happy when she suggested it because the rum in my head and Kylah in what she was wearing was having an uncomfortable effect on me and several times I found myself staring, looking up sometimes to find that she'd been observing me observing her body. I needed to get away from her, so I quickly sprung up. I saw the glance she gave to my mid-section, probably curious, because of how I'd been checking her out. I guess I confirmed her curiosity because I had a noticeable stiffy. I felt my face burning.
About ten minutes after retiring, I was half asleep when she knocked and entered the room. She asked if she could sleep with me, only for that night. She said she didn't want to be alone. I said ok, and she thanked me and jumped onto the bed, climbing over me to the other side. Her boobs dragged across my chest and her knee bumped my crotch. She settled down with her back to me, said goodnight and was soon obviously asleep.
I awoke to the sound of someone gurgling, gagging, moaning, and breathing heavily. At the same time there was the feel of a sweet torment in my crotch. I realized that the pleasurable pain was as the result of my balls being trapped in someone's wet, hungry mouth. My balls were being sucked, chewed, pulled and chomped on. In the darkness I managed to make out the moving head that was pleasuring me. My head was fuzzy from interrupted sleep and the lingering inebriation from the rum I'd downed the night before, but, keeping still and gathering my scattered wits I tried to make sense of what was happening.
As I lay there, thinking hard, I felt my balls being released from the captive hole and was now being licked by a kitteny, soft tongue. Just as things began falling into place, I felt my cock being fitted into the mouth where my balls had been. Seconds later It was clamped tight and being sucked passionately, with the accompanying sounds of gagging and choking. The head between my legs was bobbing rapidly. I realized it was the head of my little sister. I froze, but not for long.
"Kylah ... what are you doing?" I cried out half-heartedly.
I got no answer, only an increased pressure on my hard stick.
"Kylah!"
I heard some muffled words and barely understood what she was saying.
"My mouth ... is full Kieron," she mumbled, through a giggle.
"Kylah, what ... "I asked, not completing the question because I realized how foolish it was.
She lifted her head and sat up on her knees.
