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Part 1 is here: http://www. sexstoriespost. com/stories/story/212528/
As you can imagine, we did it again. Not the next day, which we spent mostly locked in our respective rooms and not daring to look at each other during meals, so much so that our mother felt the need to take me aside in the evening and ask me if anything was wrong between us, which I clumsily denied; nor over the weekend, during which Cristy visited a friend and I sat at home angsting over whether she would tell her everything and ruin both our lives, which luckily apparently she didn't do. Monday at our father's brought a surprise: he'd furnished her a room of her own in what used to be his home office, right next to his own incidentally, so there was no way I could sneak in and have sex with her without him noticing it. So apparently I'd have to wait until Thursday again, when our Mom was on late shift; and maybe, I thought, it was better that way, better that I had some time to think about what I had done and whether I really wanted to do it again even after my sister had told me and showed me in no unclear terms that she didn't agree with it when she was out of the drug-induced stupor.
But what the hell, of course I did. I guess the decision ultimately came when I went to the spa again on Wednesday, taking the same cubicle as usual, only to find my comic (the one I had made of her and Dad fucking all day) neatly pasted to the back wall, with some appreciatory comments scribbled under it. It seemed to have become quite popular, which pleased me and frightened me a little at the same time. How long could I hope not to be discovered if I didn't remove this, and would removing it have any effect at all considering that probably someone had long photographed the whole thing and posted it somewhere on the internet? I'd have to do a search for it sometime, I decided, jacked off quickly and left it hanging. It gave me a thrill, leaving it hanging, leaving my sister fucking hanging there for everyone to see. Man, I was one creepy sicko, come to think of it.
Thursday arrived. I caught an icy glance from my sister the moment the door fell shut behind my mother going out to work. "I know exactly what you're thinking of", the glance said, and something along the lines of "no way, fuck yourself. " She took her glass of orange juice from the kitchen table, which of course I had already prepped with a sprinkle of sex potion, and vanished in her room.
She obviously tried to suppress her moans, and did well for most of the time, but when they finally came out and I could hear the wet splash of her fingers between her legs, I decided it was far enough and gripped the door handle.
The door was locked.
"Fuck off!", Cristy cried after a moment of silent shock. "Go 'way, you fucking perv!" But I could hear she was still masturbating as she said it, her voice strained to the extreme to keep the moaning out of it and her breath coming in little gasps. "Why, don't you wanna fuck?", I shouted back provokingly, but she didn't reply. I slumped against the door in disappointment, too angry at her and my bad planning now to even jack off to the sound ouf her masturbating. I'd waited a whole week to fuck her, and now she was ruining it all. . . and I was sure that if she hadn't guessed already what it was that made her this horny all of a sudden, she soon would; and that would be when the real problems began.
I was still sulking with my back against the door when suddenly it opened and I toppled backwards, staring up at Cristy's naked body as she stared down at me. "Come on", she said, her voice raspy and irritable, grabbing my arm to drag me up and into her room before she closed the door again and turned the key.
"Come on!", she rasped again, laying down straight across the bed, her legs spread wide and her feet pulling me towards her, her hands grasping for my arms to drag me down. Before I could even think about it, my penis was swimming in her juices, her pussy a swamp, and when she pushed herself against me, I was suddenly inside her, her warm wetness enveloping me, dragging me deeper into her, making me push.
So I pushed. I was still dizzy with excitement and a lingering confusion when she came, grinding her pubis against mine with startling force and letting out a long, guttural groan like someone finally laying down some great burden and stretching his back for the first time. Then she went limp in an instant, collapsing beneath me and not opening her eyes until I started climbing off the bed.
My cock was raging. She had come so fast that there had been no chance for me to work up anything resembling an orgasm; and although she was lying prostrate before me, wet and naked, and I could easily have fucked her again until I came, I found out that suddenly I didn't want to. She had used me, dragged me to her bed to satisfy her lust, and that made me furious. Of course, that was just what I'd done to her last week and had wanted to do again today; but at least I had given her an orgasm, and not just one!
"What did you give me?", she hissed, sitting up abruptly and grabbing my wrist. "What did you put into that juice?"
"Nothing!" I lied, unconvincingly. "What do you mean? You were the one who just begged me to fuck you!"
"I don't want to fuck you!" she growled, her fingernails cutting painfully into my wrist.
"I didn't do anything!" I pleaded, tugging at the hand strangling my wrist.
"Suck my dick", I said.
"What?" Cristy exclaimed, her confused look again giving way to angry wrinkles all over her brow. "Are you crazy now?" But I think I could see in the way her eyes widened at the thought that it was not entirely unappealing to her. "You just used me", I explained, stroking my erect member with two fingers while pointing it straight at her face. "You had your orgasm, and remember last week? So it's only fair if you do something for me now. " My penis was still slick with her pussy juices, and still tender with excitement; if I had to, I thought, I would just jack off right there, humiliate her a little and let her deal with the problem of getting my semen out of her bedsheets before Mommy came home.
But it didn't come to that. Halfway to my surprise, Cristy sat up abruptly after staring at me for some seconds longer like I was a madman, and took the whole length of my penis into her mouth, sucking at it and licking her own juices off it with her tongue.
"I could just bite it off, you know", she mumbled without taking it out of her mouth, while she grabbed its hilt with one hand and started tickling my balls with the other. I tensed, less out of fear for what I knew she wouldn't to than out of sheer excitement at my sister actually giving me head, and when she started running her tongue around my glans and pumping the shaft with her hand at the same time I convulsed without warning and squirted three big loads of cum into her mouth, followed by quite a lot of smaller ones which she patiently sucked out of my dick after she'd swallowed the first load.
"Bah", she said, slimy sperm threads glinting between her rows of teeth before she whipped them away with the tip of her tongue. "Have tasted better. "
I was at a loss for words. I honestly hadn't expected her to really do that; my intention had been to provoke her, to insult her, make her pay for locking me out first and using me as her sex toy afterwards; but at the same time I was absolutely exhilarated. This had been something new; not just blind animal fucking that could be wholly blamed on the drug, but a clearly intentional sexual act. My little sister had given me head, and what was more, even swallowed all of my cum like a matter of course. How far did this drug go?, I thought, almost frighened. What had it done to her to make her do this?
Rather than stand around in front of her thinking about this, I decided to take revenge. "Think you taste better?", I retorted, pushing her down onto her back again and diving between her legs in a quick lunge. There was a moment of instinctive revulsion when my lips hit the soft wet mass and I took her musky smell in full, but her reaction at the touch immediately reignited my enthusiasm. I swooped up tongueful after tongueful of her juices, sucking her labia between my lips and tickling her swollen clit with my tongue and teeth, unfazed by the strands of hair occasionally getting in my way or the contractions of her thighs around my head when I'd hit a particularly sensitive spot. My little sister panted, writhed, clawed and screamed, again trying to pull away when she thought she was peaking, but I clung on to her hips with both my arms and didn't stop until her cries suddenly turned into a fit of laughter that she didn't seem able to control. I couldn't help laughing along with her while still intermittently flicking a finger at her hypersensitive clit to make her cringe and scream, until we were lying side by side on the bed, completely exhausted and happy in a rather insane way.
"Are! you! crazy!", she hissed when she finally found the strength to turn her head to face me. "You're completely nuts!"
"Why, you're the one who started laughing like a maniac", I replied, trying to get another grab at her pussy to prove my point but having my hand batted away with a resolute slap.
"Yeah, right, but it's a little late for that, don't you think? So just lay back and enjoy it. . . "
"You're insane", she repeated, but there was admiration in her voice. "This can't be happening. "
"Too good to be true, eh?"
"Hey!" Now she slapped me for good and rolled away, getting up with slightly wobbly movements and shaking like a dog coming out of the water. "Listen", she said, suddenly serious, when she turned around to face me again. "Yes, that was great fun, and yes, we can do it again, okay? But nobody can ever know.
I grinned, sat up, and extended a hand to her. "Deal", I said.
"Deal. "
She was shaking her head in disbelief or self-admonishment as she went out to take a shower, while I slowly gathered myself up and went to the toilet to clean my dick, the grin remaining on my face until I'd gone to sleep. The little plastic bag with the crushed pills still rested safely in my mattress, but I reflected now that I probably wouldn't need it anymore; after all, Cristy had agreed to us fucking whenever an opportunity presented itself. It was all, no it was more than I could have ever hoped for.
But it wasn't.
It was then that I got a little more experimental with the drug. One morning I sprinkled some of it into her breakfast sandwich before putting it in the toaster, hoping it would survive the heat, which I first thought it hadn't, as she kept shunning me and doing nothing even remotely sexual after she'd eaten up.
When the bus came, she appeared startled for a moment, but slipped back into her trance as soon as she'd sat down, not even noticing me when I took the seat beside her, rather than driving me away with slaps and hisses as she'd normally have done. I watched her as one of her hands played with the armrest while the other moved around in her face, tugging at her lower lip before she slowly moved it to her lap. Her thighs had been contracting rhythmically since the bus had started, no doubt pleasurably squeezing her clit, but now she actually wedged her hand between them and started rubbing herself, her eyes closed now, building up excitement until a low moan escaped her lips, unheard by anyone besides me, as I hoped. Still, I had to do something. I nudged her gently in the ribs, snapping her out of her trance and looking around wildly in the bus. "Ssh, Cristy", I said softly; "pull yourself together. There are people here. "
She blushed heavily at the realization of what she'd been up to and where, quickly pulling out her hand and sniffing it as if to see whether she'd leaked so much already that it might be visible through her trousers. But her thighs didn't stop their contracting, instead even quickening their rhythm, and I could see that she was getting more and more nervous at an alarming rate, looking around like a paranoiac and folding and unfolding her fingers to keep them occupied and away from her crotch. I thought I could even smell her now, a light musky aroma wafting up from her lap, and for a moment I actually pitied her, thinking how painful it must be to be so horny, longing for release so hard but unable to get it without being watched and sneered at by a busload full of schoolchildren.
"I've got to get out", she whispered, nearing a panic. "Can you press the button for me? Please!", she pleaded, when I didn't react instantly. "I. .
"Alright. " I nodded and reached forward to press the button that signaled the driver to stop at the nearest exit. There was some murmuring and some laughter probably directed at us when we got out, Cristy moving with her legs pressed together like someone who just peed herself, but at least nobody asked any questions. When the bus had taken off again, I looked around: We were standing at the entrance of one of the dozens of identical suburban settlements our bus travelled through on its way to the school complex. No children had entered the bus here, but some could be seen in the distance, heading to the bus stop to take the next one that would be here in about ten minutes by my estimate.
Ten minutes, then, would have to be enough.
"What's the matter with you?", I asked Cristy, who was panting now like a wounded animal while still not daring to touch herself where she needed it. When she didn't answer, but kept looking around in fear, I quickly decided that playing the fool was of no use here; I had gotten her into this situation, so I had to help her now to get out of it without making too much of a fool of herself. The instinctive pity I felt for her now and my own bad conscience combined to make the original purpose of my prank irrelevant, the cheap revanchism, wanting to make her pay for not wanting to suck my dick when she was not under the influence of the drug. I had to help her.
There were two kids coming out of the house closest to the station, so in a split-second decision I dragged Cristy by the hand to the porch of the house and called out to the children's father at the door if my sister could use his toilet for a second, if he didn't mind and all that. "Sure", he said and let her in. I waited on the porch, hoping that she'd get the worst of it out of her system with a little masturbation, that she wouldn't get too loud and most of all that she'd be done quickly enough for us to get the bus.
When she didn't return after more than five minutes, I got nervous; and when I could already see the bus coming around the bend less than a mile away, I knocked on the door and called: "Excuse me? Cristy? Bus is coming!"
Her only response was something like a squeal, which I optimistically took to mean that she'd finally peaked and would be coming out momentarily.
I shouldn't have been surprised, really, but there I was. The door to the loo was open and noone inside, but the repeated squeals gave her away, and with a few more steps I found her, in the living room, bent over the couch, her pants and underpants pulled down and the guy who had opened the door pumping his cock inside her from behind. He looked up when I entered, clearly terrified, and instantly retreated out of her, his penis poking wetly from his unzipped fly. "I. . . I didn't. . . ", he tried to explain himself while stuffing his dick back into his pants. "She just. . . "
I tried to look as shocked as possible, giving him the most condemning look I could muster while striding up to my sister and pulling up her trousers, playing the protective brother while I dragged her from the living room into the hall.
"We just missed our bus to school", I said coldly in the direction of the confused guy hovering between us and the safety of his home, while Cristy fumbled with her fly. "The least you could do is give us a ride. "
He did, stupidly staring through the windscreen while he pulled out of the garage and started down the road, excuses probably still racing through his head with none being anywhere near good enough to make it to his mouth. When Cristy in the seat behind him started masturbating again, becoming more noisy by the minute and her aromatic steam filling the car, I saw his eyes widen and his attention to the traffic falter; but a cautionary cough from me turned his eyes back out onto the street. "She's ill", I said. "It's called nymphomania. A clinical case. "
He nodded quickly, probably seeing his opening to excuse what I had seen, but when he tried to speak, I interrupted him before a single syllable had left his throat. "Of course", I said menacingly, "that doesn't give you or anyone else the right to take advantage of her. I really should turn you over to the police, you know that?"
"Yes", he said, out of breath with fear and desperation, "yes, I know. . . I can't explain. . .
"R. . . right", he stuttered and told me. His name was Roger Edwards, and he said he'd never thought of doing anything like this until Cristy had literally begged him. Well, I could imagine. She collapsed beside me with a final cry and shudder only about half a minute before we arrived at the school, just in time, and I had to practically lift her out of the car, so weak was she after her long-overdue orgasm. "You should consider going to the toilet and drying your pussy off some", I whispered to her as we entered the school building, "just so the wet spot on your trousers doesn't get any bigger. "
She glowered at me and vanished, probably doing what I said. I bit my lips.
I had humiliated her alright, just as I'd planned, but I also was a little frightened. All this was becoming bigger and bigger, and I felt like it had to break down over me at some point not too far away. But there was no way out; I had to play the game I had begun.
(To be continued!)
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