Chapter 13

Jules stood there frozen, her mouth still glistening, eyes wide like she wasn’t sure if she’d done something wrong or was about to witness something way worse. I think she didn’t expect that from me, not with that much force, not with that much urgency. I paused the video, stood up with my body still shaking, and gave her a light push, guiding her body back to the couch armrest. She eased herself down slowly, reluctant, kinda confused, her eyes locked on me like she was trying to figure out exactly what was going on. I put the phone in her hand and pushed firmly.

“Go on, you record.”

“Fuck, girl, what’s gotten into you?”

“Shut up. Don’t wanna do it? Let’s do it right.”

She opened her mouth to toss out some joke, some tease—I saw that mischievous glint there—but before any words could slip out, I yanked her panties down in one go, exposing everything, her smooth, hot, alive skin. The sight stole my breath. That place I should never look at was right there, pulsing, and me, kneeling between her legs, all I could think about was how to do it the best way possible. I shifted, trying to find a position that was comfortable, that kept me steady, that let me give what I still wasn’t sure I had.

“You recording?”

“Yeah…” she answered almost in a whisper.

I looked up at the camera with an expression that didn’t fit me, but it felt right. I didn’t know if I looked seductive, confident, or just totally surrendered, but it didn’t matter anymore. Without knowing exactly what to do, without experience, without a plan, I just went for it.

I approached slowly, almost reverently, like I was about to touch something sacred and dangerous. Jules’s skin was hot, slightly damp, her scent hit me before my tongue even made contact. It was a sweet, thick smell, mixed with sweat and lust. A scent that made my mouth water.

The first lick was slow, long, from the base to the top, just my tongue gliding firmly over the whole length, feeling every fold, every texture of the skin. It was soft, like wet silk. And hot. So hot. With every inch my tongue traveled, the taste shifted. A slight bitterness at first, then a salty sweetness that exploded in the back of my mouth. It was her, all of her, dripping desire for me.

Jules let out an involuntary moan, her body reacting like it’d been shocked. Her legs jerked quick, clenching, then spreading again. She arched a little, her hips seeking more contact, more pressure. And I got it. I was nailing it. I was doing it right.

I used the tip of my tongue to tease her clit, just brushing it, then circling around super slow, barely touching. With every loop, she gasped, her fingers gripping the couch cushions. When I noticed her starting to hold back the sounds, I ramped it up. My tongue now firm, pressing, drawing wide circles, then tight ones, then straight down from top to bottom, like I wanted to lick the pleasure right out of her.

She moaned loud, threw her head back, and let out a “holy fuck” so genuine that my chest swelled with pride.

With my mouth pressed against her, I slid two fingertips in slow, just the tips, testing the entrance, feeling the heat inside. She was tight, wet, so welcoming that my finger slipped in easy, like her body was begging to be filled. While my tongue worked that sweet spot, my fingers glided inside, careful and rhythmic, exploring, feeling every contraction, every throb. With every deeper thrust, she ground harder, like she wanted to swallow my whole hand.

I gripped her thighs with my other hand, firm, guiding her body, holding steady when she shook too much. When her clit got extra sensitive, I switched between licking and sucking. My mouth applied pressure, my lips wrapped around the spot and sucked gentle, then harder, creating a rhythmic, deep, wet suction.

She was losing it.

Her hips wouldn’t quit, the moans came loud, uncontrolled, mixed with curses, sobs, senseless pleas. My name slipped from her lips a few times, dragged out, twisted, almost like a plea. Jules was coming undone in my mouth.

I started nipping lightly, just the edges, little bites, sending jolts of pleasure scattered between the licks. My tongue dove between the folds, then up, lapping everything, no shame. I wanted her to feel every millimeter of my effort, to know this was all for her, that I was there completely.

And she did.

Her taste was stronger now. Her body trembled, legs tensing then going limp, like she was fighting something she already knew would win. She moaned with her whole body, her breasts rising and falling with every ragged breath, her stomach clenching like the pleasure was radiating out in waves. Her skin was hot, flushed, alive. Her clit throbbed under my tongue, pulsing in an almost hypnotic rhythm, and her body leaned forward involuntarily, pulling me in, wanting me there.

That’s when I let one of my fingers slip lower, slow, like I didn’t want to spook her, and brushed the tip super light against her tight little asshole. Just a touch, a caress, almost a question. And her body responded like it was exactly what was missing. Jules arched hard, let out a sharp, dry moan that shot through me like thunder. Her hips bucked, and the hand holding the phone shook.

I felt the exact moment. Her body opened up inside. Her pussy took me all in, hot, insatiable. I slid three fingers in easy, no resistance, her insides clamping down in a perfect fit. Tongue still on her clit, fingers moving in a deep, firm rhythm, and then she exploded. Came hard. With a scream, with force, uncontrolled. The phone dropped from her hand, hit the floor, and kept filming the ceiling, forgotten.

She didn’t stop. Came again. And once more. Her body shook in long, uncontrollable spasms. Her legs quivered, her belly clenched like it was trying to push out the pleasure and couldn’t. Her hands clutched the couch, eyes squeezed shut, mouth parted letting out sounds that didn’t even seem human. When I pulled my fingers out, she rolled to her side slow, instinctive, and kept trembling. Little aftershocks came in waves, like her body was still trying to process what happened.

I stayed there, kneeling, panting, licking my lips, her taste still hot in my mouth. I watched my sister in silence, not knowing what to do. Dizzy, stunned. She writhed slow, curled up, breathing hard, like the orgasm had ripped through not just her body—but her whole soul. And all I could do was stare. Not understanding how I’d gotten there. Not able to regret it.

She laughed alone, a desperate, broken laugh, like her own body couldn’t process what just happened. Her breathing came rough, and I stayed there, kneeling, staring at my naked sister, totally in awe. My body still pulsed. The desire hadn’t faded. The sight of her shaking, cumming like that, had left me in a raw, primal state. My hand slipped between my legs on its own, over my panties, just to feel something, just to ease that burning heat still inside me. I touched myself slow, feeling how wet I still was, and got turned on just knowing the scent clinging to me was hers.

“Enough… that’s good? Enough…” she laughed again, unable to stop.

Suddenly she remembered the phone and stretched for the floor, still kinda limp, grabbing it with a frustrated look.

“Shit, I dropped it. Didn’t even record the end.”

“And did you manage to record anything?”

She looked at the screen, let out a short laugh.

“I don’t think so. Probably turned out like crap.”

I settled on the couch, not sure what to do, and as the heat faded from my body, I started feeling like myself again. First came the shame. The nudity hit me again like a slap, and without thinking twice, I got up to grab my shirt from the floor. I threw it on quick, like it’d shield me from the memory of what just happened.

Jules showed the same discomfort in her own way, but she was smarter about it. She grabbed the phone, looked at me with a weird half-smile, and said, almost stumbling over the words, that she needed to pee. She jumped up and bolted to the bathroom, locking herself in. Something we never did.

“Don’t take too long, okay… I gotta go too,” I yelled, first out of need and then to fake some normalcy.

But nothing was normal.

I don’t know how long she stayed in there. All I know is, alone in the living room, the silence spread, and suddenly it felt deafening. I tried to distract myself, fiddled with the cushions, straightened the couch like it’d help me think. But the truth was, I couldn’t even remember what I was thinking. Everything blurred together. The scent still on my hand made me lose focus, got me aroused again. It was her scent. Her pleasure.

And then it hit me. The weight. A tightness in my chest, breath shortening. A tremble in my hands. The heat mixed with guilt. The memory of what we’d done still burning in my fingers.

And I had a panic attack. Right there.

With my sister’s scent on my face.