An adventure of a guy lusting after the sister's pussy
An adventure of a guy lusting after the sister's pussy
"Hi Geek!" Maryanne's voice came through the speakerphone, using the nickname that she had affectionately called me for years. "I'm having trouble e-mailing a video file."
"That's because of the blonde filter on your computer," I teased, using a running joke between me and my older sister.
"Blondes have more fun and geeks don't have a social life," she said, which was her standard reply to any blonde joke. I don't mind the nickname. After all, I was a serious computer gamer and, yeah, I guess, I was a geek.
"The only reason blondes have more fun is because they are more easily amused," I answered. "I'd rather be a geek." Actually, I'd rather be a jock, but that's never going to happen.
"Yeah, but geeks don't get laid," she teased with unintended accuracy, and I changed the subject.
"What do you need to e-mail?" I asked.
"How come it says the file is too large?" she responded, ignoring my question.
"Because your ISP has restrictions on how big an e-mail file can be," I answered, wondering how a former cheerleader-turned-high school English teacher gets by without knowing basic stuff like this. Every eighteen-year-old high school student like me knows how to e-mail video files. "Do you want me to come over and condense the file for you?" I offered.
"No!" she said, quickly enough to make me wonder what she was sending. "That's alright. Can you just tell me how to do it?" Perhaps realizing she piqued my curiosity, she continued. "I have to learn sometime." Now, I was really curious. My sister's husband was in Iraq, so I assumed she wanted to send him a video file. If she didn't want me to see it, it could only mean one thing: I've got to see it!
My sister is twenty-two years old and she and Mark got married last year, just before he left for Iraq. Their house is about ten minutes away from us and I frequently stop off on my way home from school to do my homework and have dinner with my sister. I have a key because I maintain her lawn and fix things around the house since her husband left. I was definitely going to have to go by tomorrow and look at her video, but that's not what I said now.
"What program are you using to import and edit the video?" I asked.
"I never said I recorded it!" Maryanne snapped.
"Okay. Sorry, Sis," I answered, knowing she must have recorded it or she'd be telling me what it was. "What program are you using to compress the video?" I tried again. "Windows Media Center," she replied, "but I'm not sure if I'm doing it right." She sighed resignedly as I tried to think of a way to help her without looking at her video.
"How about if I come over after school tomorrow? We can shoot some new video and then I can show you what to do with it," I said, knowing that I would have already seen her mystery video by the time she got home from work.
"That'd be great, Ron," she replied, approving of my idea. "I'm such a dunce at this stuff." What an understatement.
"You're just blonde," I teased. "See you tomorrow, Sis." I hung up, wondering what was on the video that she didn't want me to see. Throughout the conversation I had been trying to think of another kind of video Maryanne wouldn't want me to see, but nothing came to mind. There could only be one thing, and I was anxious to see it.
It's hard to describe my sister without sounding biased. She is absolutely gorgeous; a beautiful face, long blonde hair, great tits, and a head-turning ass. Sure, she's my sister, but as she pointed out, geeks don't get laid, and when she lived at home, I was constantly trying to sneak peeks at her naked body. In my mind, it was the only hope I had of seeing tits and ass anytime soon.
When I pulled my car into her driveway the next afternoon, I figured that I had about two hours before she got home. Letting myself in with my key, I headed right for her computer, located in the office. My cock was already stirring inside my jeans as I waited for Windows to boot up.
Come on, what's taking so long? I impatiently drummed my fingers on her desk. The anticipation was killing me. I was starting to wonder if it was all just wishful thinking. Maybe it was just some innocuous video that she didn't want me to see for some stupid reason.
I searched for ".wma" files and find one called "Iluvu," dated two days ago. That had to be it. I held my breath and double-clicked the file. Could this actually be what I hoped it was?
The movie started and, as I suspected, it's a really amateurish video of Maryanne doing a strip tease. The camera was obviously on a tripod and she was standing in front of it pulling a white tank top over her head. Her braless tits got my cock's attention, as I stared at her swaying back and forth on the screen.
Goddamn! I was looking right at my sister's bare tits! She tossed the tank top aside and brought her hands up around her firm globes, squeezing them together. Running her palms over her nipples, I watched the thick nubs respond, as she pinched them between her thumbs and index fingers. I realized she was saying something and I turned the sound up.
"Just wish you were here to do this yourself," her sultry voice came through the speakers, as I unsnapped my jeans and started stroking my hard cock. "I miss you so much, Mark," she said, moving her hard nipples towards the camera, trying to give him a close-up view, but instead all she accomplished was to make them go in and out of focus.
"Do you want to see my pussy?" she asked. Yes! Of course, I realized she wasn't talking to me. "Do you want to see my pussy, Mark?" she teased, unzipping her jeans and pealing them off her legs, revealing a skimpy black thong. She looked like she'd had a few drinks.
"I can't believe I'm doing this," she continued, turning around and wiggling her bare ass cheeks as she stepped out of her jeans. "You better not ever show this to anyone, Mark!" She smiled, looking over her shoulder at the camera.
Fuck! My sister's ass was perfect! I'd seen her in a swimsuit before, but nothing like this, with just a thin strip of material wedged between her firm cheeks. My cock was about to blow. I found a box of tissues and grabbed a couple as I pumped my cock. Maryanne had turned back around and, to my elation, was rolling her thong down her thighs. Fuck me! Her blonde pussy hair was cut into a neat triangle and the sight of it triggered my release. Jacking my cock faster, I shot a puddle of cum into the tissues. The video ended with her standing naked in front of the camera, her pussy lips barely visible through her blonde bush. Damn!
After flushing the tissues, I returned to the computer to explore her e-mail history. Fortunately, Maryanne chose to have Windows remember her log-in and password, so I could easily read all her messages. She'd been sending nude pictures of herself to her husband every day for about a month. That's when his tour unexpectedly got extended and he sent an e-mail begging her for more intimate pictures.
"With me stuck here for another few months, please think again about sending pictures. Just some shots of your best attributes... I love you and miss you and want to see you... all of you! LOL
Love, Mark"
There were at least thirty pictures and as I clicked through them, I got hard again. Picking out my favorites, I used Windows Viewer to place them side-by-side on the desktop. I started with a close-up of Maryanne's exquisite tits and two of her ass, in one of which she was bent away from the camera and pulling her ass cheeks apart. I positioned these side by side across the top of the screen. Directly beneath them I lined up three more pictures: one was a full frontal view of Maryanne smiling at the camera with her hands on her hips. My cock was straining against my jeans as I resized two shots of her pussy, including one standing close to the camera and one lying on the bed with her legs spread and her knees pulled up. I yanked my jeans down and started jacking off again. I made a mental note to bring a flash drive tomorrow so I could download copies for myself.
When I finished jacking off this time, I skimmed through the rest of the e-mails, completely reading the latest one.
"Please try to figure out the video. I really want to watch you move and hear you talk and... I think you know what else. I miss you... love you... you can figure it out!
Love, Mark"
He walked into the club as if he owned the place, he set my heart racing with how he made me feel like a naughty little girl and a blushing virgin when I'm neither.
Rachel used to think that her devotion would win Brian over one day, but she was proven wrong when his true love returned. Rachel had endured it all—from standing alone at the altar to dragging herself to the hospital for an emergency treatment. Everyone thought she was crazy to give up so much of herself for someone who didn’t return her feelings. But when Brian received news of Rachel’s terminal illness and realized she didn’t have long to live, he completely broke down. "I forbid you to die!" Rachel just smiled. She no longer needed him. "I will finally be free."
She spent ten years chasing after the right brother, only to fall for the wrong one in one weekend. ~~~ Sloane Mercer has been hopelessly in love with her best friend, Finn Hartley, since college. For ten long years, she's stood by him, stitching him back together every time Delilah Crestfield-his toxic on-and-off girlfriend-shattered his heart. But when Delilah gets engaged to another man, Sloane thinks this might finally be her chance to have Finn for herself. She couldn't be more wrong. Heartbroken and desperate, Finn decides to crash Delilah's wedding and fight for her one last time. And he wants Sloane by his side. Reluctantly, Sloane follows him to Asheville, hoping that being close to Finn will somehow make him see her the way she's always seen him. Everything changes when she meets Knox Hartley, Finn's older brother-a man who couldn't be more different from Finn. He's dangerously magnetic. Knox sees right through Sloane and makes it his mission to pull her into his world. What starts as a game-a twisted bet between them-soon turns into something deeper. Sloane is trapped between two brothers: one who's always broken her heart and another who seems hell-bent on claiming it... no matter the cost. CONTENT WARNING: This story is strongly 18+. It delves into dark romance themes such as obsession and lust with morally complex characters. While this is a love story, reader discretion is advised.
Abandoned as a child and orphaned by murder, Kathryn swore she'd reclaim every shred of her stolen birthright. When she returned, society called her an unpolished love-child, scoffing that Evan had lost his mind to marry her. Only Evan knew the truth: the quiet woman he cradled like porcelain hid secrets enough to set the city trembling. She doubled as a legendary healer, an elusive hacker, and the royal court's favorite perfumer. At meetings, the directors groaned at the lovey-dovey couple, "Does she really have to be here?" Evan shrugged. "Happy wife, happy life." Soon her masks fell, and those who sneered bowed in awe.
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Katherine endured mistreatment for three years as Julian's wife, sacrificing everything for love. But when his sister drugged her and sent her to a client's bed, Katherine finally snapped. She left behind divorce papers, walking away from the toxic marriage. Years later, Katherine returned as a radiant star with the world at her feet. When Julian saw her again, he couldn't ignore the uncanny resemblance between her new love and himself. He had been nothing but a stand-in for someone else. Desperate to make sense of the past, Julian pressed Katherine, asking, "Did I mean nothing to you?"
My wedding to Ethan Reed was just weeks away. After seven years, I was certain of our perfect future. Then, Ethan claimed "selective amnesia" from a head injury, forgetting only me. I tried to make him remember, until I overheard his video call. "Total genius move," he boasted to friends. His amnesia was a fake "hall pass" to pursue influencer Chloe Vance before our wedding. Heartbroken, I feigned belief. I endured his open flirting with Chloe and their taunting selfies. He mocked my distress, prioritizing Chloe's fake emergency. After an accident he caused, he abandoned me, injured, choosing to send Chloe to the hospital first. He even tried to cut me off financially. How could my fiancé be this cruel, calculating monster? His betrayal poisoned every memory. I felt like a fool for trusting such boundless cruelty. His audacity left me reeling. But I wouldn’t be his victim. Instead of breaking, a cold plan formed. I would shed my identity, become Olivia Carter. I would disappear, leaving him, my past, and his engagement ring behind forever, claiming my freedom.
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