My New Year’s Eve plans, set in stone since mid-September, have just shattered into a million pieces. It’s no one’s fault really, no one that I know anyway. The huge house party my buddy Eric had set up at his parents’ place on the lake is off, dashed by his older sister, who is staying at the house after leaving her husband. While I’m sympathetic to her situation, I’m still pissed because now I’m going to be stuck at my parents’ party with all their snobby yacht-club friends.
I’m sitting at the table eating my daily bowl of Corn Pops and trying to emerge from my grogginess. Despite having nothing to do and no reason to be awake at 7:30 in the morning, my body refuses to sleep any later. I’m listening to some girl on ESPN yammer about the Spelling Bee and wondering when that became a sport. You might have gathered that I’m not exactly chipper in the morning, at least not until I’ve thrown down a couple of Cokes or Mountain Dews—impossible in this house, as my parents are bafflingly anti-soda.
My daze was broken by the gentle creaking of the stairs. Who the hell else is up this fucking early? My question was answered quickly—and wonderfully—when my little sister Julia came shuffling around the corner, staring at me quizzically through her tussled mop of golden blonde hair. Little sister—heh, hardly “little” anymore I guess. She was now 17, almost exactly two years younger than me and the only thing little about her in this moment was her wardrobe. Her firm and ample breasts fought vigilantly against her tank top, stretching the cartoon rabbit on the front into a buck-toothed white blob. Her flat toned stomach was tan and dazzling, leading down to a small peek of light pubes sprouting teasingly out of her tiny orange panties.
“I didn’t think anybody’d be up,” she justified in sleepy apathy. She then shuffled to the cabinet by the sink and grabbed her own bowl, turning a plopping into the chair nearest my own, diagonally to my right, her leg bumping mine under the table. She offered nothing by way of apology and fixed a bowl of cereal for herself, drowning the golden sugary nuggets in milk before sighing loudly in disgust. “I forgot a fucking spoon.”
“I’ll get it,” I said, maybe a little too eager, then stretched backward, tipping my chair onto two legs as I reached the silverware drawer and fingertipped a spoon into my hand. If she was looking (and I’m pretty sure now that she was), my erection would have been painfully obvious through my boxers as my body was extended to full length. I returned to the table with a thud and plunged the spoon into her cereal for her.
“Thanks,” she said with a coy smile and tossed her hair out of her eyes, digging into her breakfast as I slurped the last of the milk from my bowl. She gobbled away hungrily, and as she did, her breasts rippled like a pool of fleshy heaven. Under the table, her warm bare leg rubbed slightly against mine, and I couldn’t but think it had to be on purpose.
“So,” I had to break the silence before I jizzed myself. “What are you doing for New Year’s?”
“Eh,” she shrugged, “Mom and Dad are making me stay home, ‘cause a big party got busted last year and a bunch of my friends were arrested. They don’t trust anybody now, so I can’t do shit. You?”
“Eric Small was going to have a big party, but he had to cancel it, so I’m kind of in limbo right now.” At this point, I’m pretty sure she pushed her leg a little harder into mine and started rubbing more rapidly. “I guess I might be here too.”
“Oh yeah?” Was that excitement in her voice? “You ever been here for one of their parties?”
“Nope. I always managed to find somewhere else to be. I’m guessing it’s just a bunch of their stuffy friends talking about their stocks and second-guessing the President.”
“Yeah, that’s what I figured. Well… at least if we’re both there, we’ll have someone to hang out with.” With her eyes fixed on mine, she lifted her bowl to her lips and guzzled the remaining milk sloppily, letting it spill a little down her chin and drip onto her breasts. My dick nearly ripped through my shorts. With that she bounced up from the table and disappeared around the corner and back up the stairs, as I sat dumbfounded and horny—and suddenly looking forward to my parents’ party.
Julia spent most of the next two days shopping and running around with her friends. I saw her a few times around the house, and for the most part, everything was business as usual. There may have been a couple of extra-long glances or knowing smiles here and there, but I told myself that I may just be imagining it all. On Thursday, the 30th, she came bubbling into the house, giggling with her friend Kaley. They made sure to acknowledge my presence in that sing-songy way that only teenaged girls can—Hiiiiiiii, Robbieeeee—then plopped their shopping bags down in the middle of the living room floor and disappeared.
The oddness of such a move (why not take their bags with them?) had my curiosity piqued, as I’m sure it was intended, although I didn’t realize it at the time. So, after verifying that they weren’t spying on me, I inched over to the bags and rifled through them. There were the standard teen-girl purchases—shoes, purses, various decorative cell phone accessories—but one bag consumed my attention. Inside the small pink pouch, underneath a pile of pink tissue paper that seemed far too loud when I removed it lay a black lace bra and matching panties. I’ve gone home with enough girls from the campus bars to know that these were not everyday undergarments, but a special brand of getting-laid attire, worn only on nights when one is certain—or at least rightfully hopeful—that they’ll be removed by a man. I didn’t know for sure that these were my sister’s, but I also couldn’t think of any reason for Kaley to bring her stuff in the house. As soon as I had everything replaced and returned to my seat on the couch, the girls returned, Julia bidding Kaley farewell and then stepping into the living room.
“Oh, there it is,” she realized with no further explanation, then snatched up the bags and took them to her room.
As suspected, Mom and Dad’s party was a flatliner, a bunch of chubby middle-managers in sweaters and polo shirts, laughing too hard at racist jokes while their wives dished about celebrities and complimented each other on their latest attempts too look young. There were a few other children there, but they were all as stuffy as the parents and after a few quick forced conversations with them, I was ready to escape.
Then Julia came down the stairs. From the corner of my eye, I saw a few of our dad’s pudgy friends ogling her, but eventually everyone else in the room faded out of existence. Her dress was a strapless white gown, gorgeous but not overdone. Her breasts squeezed out of the top in all their jiggly glory. As she glided down into the room and merged with the crowd, she never took her eyes off of me, nor did I take mine off of her. For a moment, she vanished into the sea of pomposity, but soon emerged only a foot from me.
“Hey there,” she purred, holding nothing back. “Wanna ditch these losers?” She took my hand without waiting for an answer, not that there was any doubt what I would have said. We wound through the house, past the bedrooms and the back game room, where a few adults were engaged in poker, cigars, and various alcoholic beverages. She led me downstairs, into the home theater, our dad’s pride and joy. “Finally,” she sighed, after making sure we were alone.
I stood, staring blankly, unsure of how to proceed. But Julia was sure, as she hooked her fingers over my belt and pulled me to her by the waist. Without a word, she planted her lips on mine, our arms clasping each other, our tongues exploring our mouths. We broke for a minute, both of us panting heavily.
“Yeah,” she agreed.
Then we were together again, this time with even more ferocity and animal passion. She undid my belt, then my pants, both falling to the floor. I stepped out of my shoes as I unzipped her dress in the back, which she effortlessly slid out of while unbuttoning my shirt. Once we were down to our underwear, she wrapped her legs around me and I carried her out of the theater to the basement guest room, never unlocking from our kiss.
In the guest room, she released herself from me and took a few steps back. “So, do they look as good on me?” She held her arms out, posing her new getting-laid underwear for me and I lost all control.
We were naked and on the bed in a flash. I kissed Julia all over her body as she giggled and squirmed. I made my way to the patch of blonde between her smooth thighs, my tongue attacking her wet pinkness. She squealed with delight, wiggling her way to an orgasmic eruption.
“Oh, Robbie. That was awesome,” she cooed, as we took a small break to catch our breath. For the first time, it hit me that I was doing this with my sister. I would have questioned the morality, but it didn’t seem to be bothering her and she was the hottest girl I’d fucked in years. Well, I hadn’t fucked her yet, but that was a foregone conclusion. My thoughts were broken by the hot wet sensation on my cock. I looked down toward the end of the bed to see my little sister’s licking my shaft. She glanced up and gave me a hot smile before plunging her whole mouth down on my dick, swallowing it down to my balls. She went to town, bobbing rapidly on my meat, her saliva spilling over it and adding to my growing and imminent explosion, which arrived with a shudder. Julia sucked and swallowed until I was bone dry, then release me with a pop.
“Well, looks like you’re ready for the main attraction,” she giggled, eyeing my raging erection, which felt to me like it would never go away.
“I can’t wait,” I growled, deeper than I intended.
With that, she straddled me and lowered her dripping pussy onto my waiting dick. The sensation was ethereal, the warm tightness of her insides coupled with the vision of my naked baby sis grinding hungrily, moaning and yelping as our hips bucked each other. Her breasts were slapping madly as she pogoed my cock. I was fucking my sister, and it was the best sex of my life.
She rode me hard and fast through multiple orgasms until my balls released a tidal wave of hot cum inside her, and even then she bounced slowly until my finally-soft penis slid from her soaking cunt.
“Happy New Year, bro.”
“Happy New Year, Jules.”
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