Naughty Bae Pt.

It’d been more than two days since that fateful encounter with Irene, and yet
you were still in shock. Numb from the utter ridiculousness of it all. How could
you not be? It’s like something out of a bad fanfiction. Your dreams - both
waking and sleeping - are filled with images of what she’d done to you. Her ass
lowering swiftly, inexorably toward your erect tip. The bounce of her body
against yours, the way she’d been so shameless, without a single sign of
hesitation. She’d treated it like it wasn’t that big a deal at all, as if it hadn’t been
literal incest. Jesus Christ, you’d even finished inside of her. You had filled
your older sister’s pussy with cum, unknowing of whether she was on birth
control, of if she’d taken Plan B afterward, or if she was crazy enough to have
recklessly taken your seed with the possibility of mothering a deformed, fucked
up brother-sister baby.
But of course you couldn’t text her about that. You could barely think about her
anymore without cringing. So you waited and waited, staying mostly holed up
in your room, doing your schoolwork but ultimately avoiding any kind of
unnecessary social contact. The ease at which you hid what had happened,
along with the definite trauma you’d been subjected to, is appalling. You
believe that this faux complacency might come from the fact that you
actually enjoyed fucking your older sister.
On Saturday at noon, however, when Irene shows up for a surprise visit to your
house, it becomes clear that mere acceptance of the situation is not enough. The
sound of the front door opening, followed by Irene’s familiar, husky voice
greeting your father is enough to make your heart thud audibly in your chest.
Slamming against your ribcage, driving your breathing to quicken, sweat
stinging the underside of your armpits. You try to hide in your room, pretending
to be taking a nap or something, but of course your parents don’t allow that. Of
course they borderline force you to the dining room, a journey that seems to
take an eternity. Reaching the bottom of that staircase, you feel as if you’re
about to pass out, and you pause for a moment, holding onto the wooden railing,
trying to get your head together.
All you had to do was act normal. Get through this one interaction, maybe a
quick hello or something, a casual hug, then right back upstairs. You could do
this. It would be simple and fast. Nothing complicated at all-
“Hi, little brother,” a whisper comes from close beside you, bringing with it a
flutter of minty breath against the cup of your ear. Rather than jumping or
scrambling away, you freeze, muscles paralyzed, mind blank. “What’s wrong?
Do you have a headache or something?”
Taking a deep breath, you look up, then turn to face your older sister. She stands
before you, hands set on her hips, head tilted to the side as if in challenge, a
smirk teasing the corners of her picture-perfect face. Thankfully, she’s wearing
clothes this time, and all things considered they’re pretty tame. After all, what
could be provocative about seeing your big sister in plain jeans and a button-up
cardigan? What did it matter that those buttons stopped just a little too low on
her chest? It’s not like you should be bothered by the tiny peek of cleavage she
graces you with, or the delicious, milky outline of her collarbone. Right?
“My face is up here,” Irene’s smirk grows and she tucks her fingers beneath
your chin, tilting your head upward, bringing your teeth together with a soft yet
audible click . Her dark eyes sparkle with barely contained humor; she’s trying
her best not to laugh at you. “It’s not polite to stare. Especially with your jaw
hanging open like that.”
Irene leans past you, probably checking to see if your parents are coming. You
don’t follow her gaze; how could you, when one of her hands grabs your upper
arm, the other cupping the back of your neck, fingers tickling at the peach fuzz
of your hairline.
“Don’t worry. You’ll get to see everything you’d like after lunch.”
Before you can say or do anything, your sister leans forward, nibbling on the
cup of your ear, the tip of her tongue dragging against your lobe. Then she pulls
back, a whirl of ebony hair and ivory skin, hurrying past you and into the dining
room. Leaving you standing there, goosebumps thrilling on your spine, a
monstrous feeling of hot fullness gathering in your gut and loins.
***
Lunch turned out to be much better than you expected it to be. You weren’t
really sure how Irene was going to act around your parents, but normal certainly
wasn’t it. It was borderline shocking to see her laughing at your dad’s dumb
jokes, debating your mother on the best cooking methods for various foods, and
even berating you for getting a bad grade on your latest Calc quiz. You try your
best to flow along with the conversation, to treat it like the usual family meal.
But that’s impossible, especially given what had happened less than five
minutes prior to everyone sitting down. Not to mention the fact that, less than
seventy-two hours ago, Irene had been riding your cock like her life depended
on it.
However, your acting skills prove to be enough, since neither your mother nor
your father ask you if something is wrong. Though it’s impolite to leave the
cleaning to everyone else, you drum up the excuse of an upset stomach, bolting
upstairs in a flash, tucking yourself into the bathroom and slamming the door
behind you. You splash some cold water on your face, lean up against the
counter, and listen out for when the coast is clear. For when Irene leaves.
However, about two minutes in, a knock on the door echoes slices through the
quiet of your safe, tiled space. You’d be an idiot not to know exactly who it is.
“Hey, it’s Irenenie,” your older sister says, using your childhood name for her.
For some horrid reason, this makes your already raging hormones go wild, and
you almost can’t bear how hard your cock has become. “Can you let me in? I
just need to grab something real quick before I go.”
“I-I don’t know,” you say shakily, trying to stave off your own desires, forcing
yourself to be as gross as possible. “Pretty smelly in here.”
You can practically see Irene’s eye roll in response to your lame excuse.
“I’m positive I’ve smelled worse. I can handle it. I can handle lots of things
better than you’d think, little brother. Now open up. It’ll be fast, I have to get
going soon anyway.”
Compelled not only by necessity but by your own skewed biological drive, you
do as your older sister says. You only need to open the door by a single hair
before she takes over, sliding inside and shutting it behind her with a swift,
abrupt movement. A hand at your lower back brings you forward, pressing your
chest against hers. It’s impossible to look her directly in the eye, so you cast
your gaze downward, unfortunately settling on the mouthwatering sight of her
bare cleavage. Though you’d already seen her tits in all their sororal glory,
there’s something about them being hidden from view that drives you mad.
At this proximity, you wonder if Irene can feel your heart thudding in your
chest. Or, more importantly, the wanting stiffness of your cock against your
boxers.
“You can’t hide from me,” she whispers, caressing the back of your neck again.
“Do you really think I’d just leave without saying goodbye to my darling little
brother?”
At a loss for what to do or say, you just stand there dumbly, staring at your
sister’s tits as she begins to kiss the curve of your neck. They’re chaste kisses,
barely more than pecks, but they’re enough to make you shiver. Whether it’s
from disgust or pleasure you can’t tell which, but you have a strong feeling that
it’s both. All thoughts of confronting her are eliminated from your brain, and
you barely move at all when her fingers find their way to your waistband.
“I never got to properly thank you for helping me get off,” Irene continues,
working your boxers and your sweats down, allowing them to fall to your
ankles. Her hand is on your cock immediately, stroking with a backwards grip,
slow and sensual and knee-weakening. “We don’t have a lot of time, but I’ll be
quick.”
“Irene, we shouldn’t be doing this,” you stammer, knowing it’s futile, knowing
that she’s going to have her way with you regardless of whether you like it or
not. “What if mom and dad find out? What if literally anyone finds out? What if
you get pregnant or something? What if-”
A placating, knowing smile spreads across your older sister’s face as she pushes
against your chest, cutting you off. Her hand remains on your shaft while she
guides you backwards in a swaying half-stumble. Less than three steps later,
your bare ass meets the cool marble of the counter behind you, and Irene takes
your chin in her hand, forcing you to look into her eyes.
“Are you telling me this doesn’t feel good?” she asks, increasing the tightness
of her fingers on your cock, speeding up her strokes, making you chomp down
on your lower lip to contain a moan. “No one will find out as long as we’re
careful. And the pregnancy thing is nothing to worry about. You just focus on
giving me nice, thick creampies like the last time we fucked. Just let your big
sister handle everything else.”
What relief that would have overcome you is replaced by entranced awe as,
without pretense, Irene drops to her knees in front of you. Her hand remains at
the base of your shaft, guiding your cock directly into her mouth. You can
barely contain your grunt of pleasure as your sister’s warm, wet lips wrap
around the tip of your cock. Her tongue flicks up and down, and when you look
down at her she opens her mouth and smacks your cock against it, smiling
brightly all the while.
“Holy fuck, Irene.” you hiss, because there’s nothing else to say, nothing else
you can do but let your sister have her way with you.
Irene reaches up and holds your hand, intertwining your fingers as she takes you
fully into her mouth. Going hard right from the start, bobbing her neck like a
pornstar, hair swaying around her head as she jams your cock into the back of
her throat. On that first deepthroat, you clap your hand over your own mouth to
prevent yourself from gasping; it’s a sound that’s shoved from your lungs
unabated, brought forth by both stupefaction and stimulation.
“You like that, huh?” Irene says, backing up, stroking your now soaking cock,
holding it beside her face as she does so. “This is what a good boy gets. Keep
giving me what I want, and there’s a lot more where this came from.”
At that, all you can do is gasp and place your hand atop Irene’s head, stroking
her silky hair, trying your best not to think of the obvious. Trying not to face the
fact that your older sister is giving you the best blowjob of your life.
Irene's lips curve upward as she opens her mouth again, taking you in, gripping
each of your thighs and going for a much faster pace this time. It’s the same sort
of frantic rhythm that you’d used to jerk yourself off, with similar variations in
pressure and cadence. With the added flair of her soft lips and wet tongue,
you’re an absolute slave to Irene.
At the end of her marathon of rapid sucking, she goes for another deepthroat.
This time she keeps your cock in her throat, and you can feel the flex of her
throat against your tip, the muted gags she releases growing louder by the
second. Your hand clutches at her hair, fingers twisted, muscles clenched as you
feel your hips swaying. And yet she continues to hold you there, to rock her
head subtly back and forth, stroking you with the tight ring of her throat.
It feels as though an eternity has passed when Irene pulls back, strings of spit
hanging from her lips as she inhales a gasping breath. Somehow she manages to
continue stroking your cock, rubbing your tip against her lips as she recovers.
“I can feel your cock twitching,” she says, spitting shamelessly on herself,
letting her saliva drip down her chin. “You’re about to cum, aren’t you?”
Wordlessly, you nod. The heaven that’s rising in your pelvis is persistent and
powerful, and you know it’s only a matter of time before you finish.
“Where do you wanna cum?” she asks, grinning. “I’ll let you do it anywhere
you want. My tits, my ass… wherever .”
Giving in to your primal urges, you place a hand beneath her chin and tilt her
head upward. Meeting her crystalline gaze.
“Your face.” you say, allowing your sickest desires to seize control of you. “I
wanna cum all over your pretty fucking face.”
Irene giggles at that, a condescending laugh that only makes you hornier. She
strokes your cock so fast that it’s almost painful, pointing your tip directly at her
nose, puckering her lips as if ready to accept a kiss.
“Go ahead then. Cum all over your noona’s face. Cover me in your hot,
thick cum.”
It isn’t her touch but her words that throw your body into its sexual death throes,
and with a withering gasp, you erupt. That first burst is massive, causing your
sister to flinch back as it streaks up and across her face, managing to land all the
way up at her hairline. The second spurt covers her cute nose, running onto her
upper lip, caught by the eager tip of her tongue. Irene continues to stroke you as
your cum covers her fresh, pink lips, dribbling onto her chin as the initial flow
peters out. You grip the counter beside you hard, struggling to stay standing as
you drown in the sheer intensity of your orgasm.
“I hope you can put a load like that inside me next time,” Irene says, her left
still shut, lashes glued together by your semen. “Maybe in my ass?”
Panting heavily, you’re unable to respond as Irene stands up, unceremoniously
pushing you out of the way so that she can stand in front of the mirror.
“Now get out of here. I need to clean up.” Irene says, shooing you away,
morphing from a sensuous vixen back to your bratty, entitled older sister. “If
mom and dad ask, I wanted to fix my makeup before going to my next
schedule.”
And so with a filthy cock and a head full of butterflies, you leave the bathroom.
Your post-orgasmal daze follows you all the way back to your bedroom, where
you drift onto your bedsheets - the same bedsheets where you and Irene had
fucked less than three days ago - landing upon the mattress with a solid thud .
Before you can think of or do anything else, you hear your phone vibrate on
your nightstand. It’s a message from “Noona”. An image, to be exact. Dread
hollows your gut as you open it up to find that she’s sent you a mirror selfie.
Her tits are out, bursting over the top of her shirt, your cum still staining the
lower half of your face as she blows a cute, cum-covered kiss.