﻿Angry Alister

by Pan



Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2023-02-25
Packaged: 2024-02-16 22:01:20
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,226
Publisher: mcstories.com
Story URL: https://mcstories.com/AngryAlister/index.html
Author URL: https://mcstories.com/Authors/Pan.html
Summary: Alister’s family have an unusual reaction whenever he gets mad.
Erotica Tags: in, mc, md, mf





TABLE OF CONTENTS


Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3



	Chapter 1

It all started with my highschool girlfriend. She’d flirt with other guys, right in front of me.

Even at the time, I knew that she was doing it to get a rise out of me, and…well, it worked. I could basically feel my blood pressure rise, and in response she’d get this _look_ in her eyes.

Then, as soon as we were alone, she’d practically jump me.

It took me a while to spot the pattern, but even then I still couldn’t work out what was causing it. I guess I just thought she just got excited by showing off in front of me.

It never even occurred to me that my reaction had anything to do with it.

We broke up when I went to college, and I started dating Merideth. Merideth and I fell in love, spent all night talking to each other; all the usual college girlfriend stuff. And I told her everything…including how much I hated it when my ex had flirted with other girls in front of me.

She promised me, in that earnest way you do when you’re dating someone new, that _she’d_ never do something like that to me.

And to her credit, she didn’t.

But here’s the thing: Merideth would crack her knuckles.

All. The. Time.

I don’t know about you, but I friggin’ _hate_ that sound. It’s like it penetrates directly into the pain center of my brain or something. I, too, was newly in love, so I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it—as far as I was concerned, Merideth was the girl of my dreams.

Who wants to let a little cracking sound get in the way of true love?

Like a lot of college couples, we ended up spending most of our time in each other’s dorms. It was worst when she was studying—she’d crack her knuckles, I wouldn’t say anything, but I’d just sit there getting more and more tense, more and more irritated.

Then, after the third time she’d do it in an hour (like, how is that even _possible_?), she’d get that look in her eyes.

Merideth would practically throw her textbook to the side, and within about thirty seconds she’d be riding me to orgasm.

Maybe I was a little slow to notice the pattern. This one wasn’t as obvious as my previous relationship. But after the fifth or sixth time she jumped straight from studying to sex, I realized that wasn’t normal.

But that’s as far as I got. I was stuck to know what one had to do with the other. Like, how could studying contract law get her excited? I even tried to do some reading about it, but it was a dead end. No one had ever connected ‘knuckle-cracking’ and ‘female arousal’ before.

So I had no idea what was happening.

Until I went back home to Albuquerque for the summer.

‘Home’ was just me, my sister, and our Mom. Dad had left a long time ago—I barely had any memories of him, and my little sister had none.

That summer, she’d just turned eighteen—I’m two years older than her. We’ve always gotten along fine, I guess, but something about turning eighteen had turned her into a total brat.

And—as much as I tried not to notice—a total hottie. Like, I know she was my sister, but Jesus H. Christ. I’d like to say she wasn’t my type (ignoring the fact she was, y’know, related to me)…but that would be a lie. My sister was pretty much every guy’s type. Long brown hair, all-over tan (a real one, not from a bottle), flat stomach…and a very, very not-flat ass and pair of boobs.

On top of that, she was zero percent shy about showing her body off. From the moment I got back from college, I don’t think I ever saw my sister in anything more than a bikini. Every inch of her skin was perfect, and she wanted to make sure you saw as much of it as possible.

Her body—and the way she insisted on sharing it with the world—had apparently served to attract Brandon, the idiot she was dating.

It’s probably hardwired into our DNA; older brothers hate their sister’s boyfriends. But even more than you’d expect from that, Brandon drove me up the _wall_.

Mom had a full-time job, I was on vacation, and my sister was enjoying her final summer break. She had one year of school left before she followed me either to college, or—as I vocally and repeatedly told her I’d prefer—found a school on the other side of the country.

Or even better, the other side of the planet.

Since we had a pool and Brandon the Idiot didn’t, the couple spent most of their time at our house. My sister would wear these ridiculously tiny bikinis that made it _very_ difficult not to notice how curvy she’d grown, while I’d lie beside the water trying to get some sun.

And Brandon was there too.

I still have zero idea what my sister saw in this guy. I guess he had an alright body, but he was dumb as a post. I told him that Mexico—the country—was named after New Mexico. He didn’t even question it.

Worse that that, pretty much everything he did managed to rub me up the wrong way. I’d have said it was deliberate, except I actually think he was too dumb to plan something as simple as that.

Like, here’s a great example—he was always chewing gum, and when the flavor was gone, he’d just spit it out. Wherever he was. In the pool, onto the pavement. No thought put into it, just…straight out.

You’d ask him a question, and he’d respond with a long, loud “ummmmmmmmmmmm” before he responded, as though he was staking his conversational claim, not letting anyone else get a word in until he’d finished processing. Which could take a while.

And worst of all, he’d treat my sister like a piece of meat. Like, sure, she was showing herself off, but…that didn’t mean he got to treat her like a prize he’d won, y’know?

I know, I know, I must sound like a big brother stereotype from a poorly-written movie. Boo hoo, my hot sister was dating a moron. I was aware of how much I was playing into type…

But when you see a big idiot groping at the girl you’ve known for her entire life, I don’t think it’s possible to stop yourself from reacting.

I’d be sunning myself by the pool, they’d be chatting, and then he’d just reach out and paw her.

At first, I made a pointed comment or two. “I’m right here,” kind of stuff, y’know? But Brandon was so dense, he literally didn’t get it…and as you can imagine, my sister was not a huge fan of her older brother having any kind of say on her relationship, or how she conducted herself.

I couldn’t be bothered making a big deal out of it, so after my increasingly-blatant hints went ignored, I just stopped saying anything. It became annoyingly common for me to lay by the pool, trying to ignore an ape of a man openly groping my sister’s huge breasts in front of me, or grabbing her perfect ass as he stuck his moronic tongue down her obnoxious throat.

‘Trying’ is the key word there. _Trying_ to ignore it. If you’ve ever been in a similar situation, you’ll know that I was kidding myself to think I could just let it wash over me like a Zen monk or whatever.

No…instead, I’d just sit there, quietly getting angrier and angrier. And worst of all…it was like because I was doing such a good job of acting cool, my sister would get more and more into her idiot boyfriend’s antics. Their embrace would grow more passionate, more involved.

Her pants of arousal got louder and louder.

Then just when I thought I was going to pop, my sister would make the flimsiest of excuses, pull Brandon inside, and leave me, alone and steaming by the pool.

By the time they’d return, I’d have calmed down. I knew what they were doing, of course, but it was easy to find solace in the fact that at least they weren’t doing it in front of me.

They’d be much more relaxed, too. As you’d expect. Relaxed and sweaty.

This basically repeated itself most days over the first few weeks of the summer break…

And then it happened.

Mom decided, for whatever reasons mothers decide things, that we were going out for ice-cream. Her, me, my sister…and Brandon the Imbecile.

Albuquerque has some pretty cool ice-cream places, and Mom was paying, so I certainly wasn’t going to object. We walked to the imaginatively-named “Cold Treats”, and picked out some…well, cold treats.

We were halfway home before Brandon’s slow-moving mental machinery had worked out that in order to enjoy his cone, he’d have to get rid of the gum he was chewing.

Showing a characteristic lack of forethought, my sister’s boyfriend spat it out.

Directly into my ice-cream.

Now look, I might have a bit of a temper, but I’m generally pretty good at not letting it show. Float like a butterfly and all that, y’know?

But when the walking waste of space who was dating my sister ruined my ice-cream, I completely lost it.

“You _idiot_!” I shouted. “Holy god, what is wrong with you?”

Mom and my sister stared at me, eyes widened, but I didn’t care. A week of frustration had built up inside me, and it was now directed at Brandon, completely unfiltered.

“Seriously! You’re so dumb, I feel like I lose an IQ point every time I look at you. Why would you not think? _Can_ you not think? I can’t believe the complete and utter lack of braincells you must possess. Was your mother a postbox? Did your father try to set a record for how many times he could drop a child on its head? I’m struggling to imagine what must have happened, what bets God must have lost to produce anyone—anyTHING as stupid as you. Look at what you’ve done…for once in your life, just THINK, man!”

As soon as I let it all out, I simultaneously felt much better and much worse. Better, because there’s something deeply satisfying about ranting into someone’s face…and worse, because I’d just called my sister’s boyfriend stupid. Many, many times.

I mean, don’t get me worng—the guy _was_ stupid, but I knew that I shouldn’t have said anything. Certainly not a LOT of things.

To my surprise, my little sister didn’t stand up for her boyfriend. I expected a scolding, but Mom didn’t say anything about how rude I’d been.

And perhaps weirdest of all, Brandon didn’t even reply—he silently offered me his ice-cream, kept his mouth closed, and the three of us walked home in silence.

Now, for all the guff I’d just given Brandon for his lack of intellect, I can’t be too proud of my own mental workings that night. Even after what happened next, I _still_ didn’t put it together.

As soon as we got home, my sister practically dragged her boyfriend into her room. She didn’t even make an excuse—as soon as we crossed the mantle, she was pulling him into her bedroom. I swear, she even started undoing her bikini top before she was out of the room.

I turned to my Mom, a smile on my face, looking forward to the chewing out she was sure to deliver. Two rants in one night—what a treat, right?

Our mother has always been extremely strict on who we can see; my first girlfriend and I had become masters of sneaking around to avoid her lectures, and my sister wasn’t even being _subtle_.

But to my surprise, Mom didn’t say anything. Instead, when she saw me looking at her, she bit her lip, mumbled an excuse, and disappeared into her own room.

Huh?

In that moment, I felt like Brandon must feel all the time— _completely_ clueless as to what was going on.

I mean, I knew what was ’going on’ in my sister’s room. Even the Idiot could have worked that one out. And even if I wasn’t able to put two and two together, my sister and her boyfriend were being shockingly loud.

Loud enough that it made absolutely no sense that my mother wasn’t doing anything about it.

What the frick was going on?

Like I said, I’d been trying really hard not to view my little sis in a sexual light, but damn. You hear someone screaming in orgasm, and it becomes pretty hard to unring that bell.

When Brandon started following my sister’s lead, his moans filling the house, I started to get worried. Not for him, or for my sister—they sounded like they were having a _great_ time—but for Mom. She’d always been so strict…if she was ignoring _this_ , surely that meant something was wrong with her.

And so I went down the hallway, to my mother’s room, and heard something I’d never thought I’d hear.

Something I never wanted to hear.

Something that I would probably have paid good money _not_ to hear.

You see, as loud as my sister’s cries of pleasure were…they still weren’t quite loud enough to drown out my mother’s, from the next room over.

…yeah.

Things were awkward the next day.

I wasn’t going to bring up what happened, of course, and when the rest of my family followed suit…I wasn’t sure whether I was more confused or relieved.

Like, let me be clear—none of that was normal. _None_ of it.

Well, I guess my sister’s idiot boyfriend being a moron was normal. And them fucking loudly wasn’t exactly a revolutionary event. But everything else—I never lost my temper like that, Mom never let it slide when someone _did_ lose their temper, my sister was alway waaaay more subtle when she was hooking up…

And Mom’s reaction to her daughter having sex in the house was definitely, definitely not to go into her own room and…

Yeah. None of it was normal.

The next day, two things were different. Firstly, Mom stopped by the store after work and got some ice-cream, presumably so that we would never have to make another trip like that again (which I think we were _all_ very much okay with)…and secondly, Brandon stopped coming around.

My sister didn’t volunteer a reason for that, and I didn’t ask for one.

It was less than two weeks later before she dumped him—maybe she finally saw what an utter troglodyte he was, or maybe he just wasn’t worth making the effort to spend time with him outside our property.

You know how ugly girls are described as having “a great personality”? Well, my sister has a great body, and it turns out it works both ways. Even someone cursed with her personality can’t have had too much trouble finding another boyfriend pretty quickly…but for whatever reason, she didn’t.

And so for the next few days, it was just me and her hanging out by the pool.

Like I said, we’ve always gotten along. Friendly, but not ‘friends’. Y’know, standard brother-sister stuff.

But you start spending all your time with one other person, and no matter who they are, they’re sure to get on your nerves. Add to that the fact that I was probably a bit subconsciously annoyed at her for being so attractive, myself for being attracted to my own flesh and blood, and mix in her “great body” personality…I guess what happened next was inevitable.

My sister gets bored easily. This was something I’d learned from our road trips as a child. It was part of why I was surprised she stuck with Brandon as long as she did—you could have more engaging conversations with a cement mixer. She needs stimulation…and normally more than just the type I’d heard Brandon giving her.

Some things never change. And ever since the days of those long trips across America: when my sister gets bored, she likes to irritate me.

In all fairness, she hadn’t really done it since we were kids. During my highschool years we hadn’t gone on any long road trips, and I’d been too focused on girls (girls I could date, not girls I was related to) that we actually hadn’t spent much protracted time together.

But Meridith and I had promised to be faithful over the summer, so it wasn’t exactly like I could go out looking for women. Barely any of my friends had come back for the summer, so I had nowhere else to be.

My sister and I were basically were forced into daily proximity with each other.

And so she used me to relieve her boredom.

It started out mildly enough. She bomb-dived into the pool, dousing me—and the burger I was halfway through—with water. I told her off for it, and she stuck her tongue out at me in response.

I was so distracted by how very far out her tongue _went_ , I totally failed to escalate, and so things almost immediately calmed down again.

Like, sure, I was annoyed about my burger…but my sister’s abnormally long tongue was consuming my thoughts as I consumed the soggy meal, desperately trying to think about something else.

Anything else.

The next day, she sat at the other end of the pool, and tried to throw leaves and twigs into my drink. She was far away enough that she never even got close, so it didn’t really bother me.

Also, I knew what she was doing. If someone’s trying to annoy you and you let them…they win, right?

For the next day or two, she sat on the close end of the pool and tried to convince me to drive her somewhere. I actually don’t think there was anywhere in particular she wanted to go, but she never let up. Endless hours of my sister trying to wheedle a yes out of me.

I could have driven her somewhere, I guess, but I knew she didn’t really want it, and I didn’t really want to get up, so I mostly just tuned her out.

It was the end of the first week when she finally managed to get a rise out of me. She was wearing her favorite bikini—I mean, I assume it was her favorite. It was definitely the one I saw her in the most. It was blue, with these yellow dots., including two dots positioned directly over her nipples.

I always assumed it was by chance, although I guess I shouldn’t have underestimated my sister. It was very possible that every time she put it on, she very deliberately positioned those two spots, knowing that eyes would be drawn to them.

Even mine. Her brother’s. Someone who _really_ shouldn’t have been looking.

Her nipples weren’t, like, erect (and I wish I could’ve said the same about what own swimsuit covered) but the material was thin, and the way the spots landed, it was almost impossible _not_ to notice.

She sat on the near side of the pool. As I did most days, I was wearing sunglasses. Partially to protect my eyes from the harsh southwestern sun…but mostly so that it wouldn’t be obvious where my gaze wandered.

Don’t get me wrong; I tried not to let my gaze wander. I really did.

But sometimes you just can’t help but look, y’know?

And as I surrepticiously checked out my sister’s perfect body, she did it again. She started picking up leaves from the side of the pool and trying to throw them into my beer.

I reminded myself that this wasn’t her first time trying this, and tried to relax and ignore her, but as her shots got closer and closer, I could feel my blood-pressure rising.

And then when she landed one right into my drink, I lost it.

“God damn it!”

My sister’s eyes widened, and I could feel my blood pumping through my body. I knew I should stop, before I did something I’d regret…but I couldn’t. Just like the other day, my temper completely got away from me, and the words started tumbling out of my mouth before I could stop them.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing? You learn this trick from your dumb-ass boyfriend, or did this one come straight out of your own bimbo brain? God you’re a waste of space…why do you have to be such a pest? If I could trade you for a box of rocks, I’d pay a lot of money for the privilege. Sometimes I can’t believe we share a parent, because if I was told you were the offspring of an orangutan and a banana, I’d not only believe it, I’d think you got your brain from the banana’s side! Can you please get either out of my space, or off the damn planet, becaues I am DONE with you!”

When I was done, there it was again, that mix of emotions. I always felt better after a rant, but it didn’t entirely erase the feeling of guilt I had from exploding at my sister like that. And I was so charged with adrenaline—I could practically feel my heartbeat, pushing my angried-up blood throughout my body.

But more than anything, I felt confused.

In response to my outpouring of anger, my little sister didn’t look even remotely subdued. A weird look had come into her eyes—one that I recognized from the night I’d shouted at Brandon, or all the times she’d dragged him inside.

My neck turned red as I realized what I was seeing.

My sister was _horny_.

Don’t get me wrong—it wasn’t like I didn’t know this happened. I hadn’t, like, convinced myself that she never got turned on or anything like that. This wasn’t the discovery of a young man discovering that oh my, women like sex too.

The shock wasn’t at the realization that my sister was worked up…it was the fact that it seemed to be directed at me.

I was grappling with the mix of shock and revulsion at what I’d just observed when she did it. My sister slowly, deliberately, picked up another leaf, crushed it into a ball…and threw it directly into my coke.

It was like something possessed me. I’ve never, ever been so mad before in my life. You know the phrase ‘he saw red?’

Until that day, I’d always figured that was just a fancy way of conveying how angry they were.

But as my sister openly, intentionally provoked me…I literally saw red.

When it faded and the world came back into focus, my sister was laying across my lap. There’s no doubt in my mind that she could feel my cock poking up into her stomach, but in that moment, I can tell you that I absolutely didn’t care.

I was the angriest I’ve ever been. My blood was pounding through my body, and I wasn’t thinking. I was too mad to think. There’s a reason ‘mad’ is the word for both fury and insanity, y’know?

I raised my hand, and with a powerful THWACK, brought it down on my sister’s rear.

I’m not a violent man, really. I’ve never so much as been in a physical fight since grade school. But in that moment, as I let pure instinct guide my actions, I wanted to hurt my sister. Not permanently. Not seriously.

But she needed to be punished. I wanted to punish her for what she’d done.

My hand was stinging with pain as I pulled it away from my sister’s perfect ass, but I didn’t care. And as my heartbeat pounded in my ear, I heard it.

I’d been expecting my sister to cry out—on some level, I wanted it.

But this wasn’t an exclamation of pain. It was one of pleasure.

My eyes widened. I’d just struck her ass as hard as I possibly could, and she didn’t care.

She’d liked it.

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. First she’d deliberately thrown trash into my drink, and now she was moaning with pleasure as I punished her?

I brought my hand down on my sister’s ass again, and again.

THWACK. THWACK. THWACK.

As I rained down blows on my sister’s barely-clad ass, I felt her twitching underneath me. For a moment I thought I’d really hurt her, but then I realized.

She was cumming.

My sister was cumming at my hand, reaching orgasm as I spanked her.

In an instant, my anger disappeared, and I shoved her away from me in horror.

She looked up at me, her eyes dark with lust, but I turned away. I turned, and ran into my room.

God…what had I done?

* * *

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	Chapter 2

I avoided my sister for the next few days.

I’m sure most anyone would have done the same. Well, I guess most people wouldn’t have struck their sister in the first place.

Most people wouldn’t have lost their temper, pulled their younger sister across their lap, and spanked their ass to orgasm.

Like I had.

Fuck.

Memories fade, right? That’s the whole point. You do something you regret, and it feels bad, but that feeling disappears over time.

Well, this one wasn’t going fading anywhere as fast as I wanted it to. For days, it felt like everytime I closed my eyes, I could feel it.

My sister’s body across my lap, twitching in orgasm. An orgasm that I’d caused with my hand.

With my anger.

The sight of your sibling cumming is not something you should ever, ever witness. If you know how your sister gets off, you’ve done something wrong.

And believe me, I knew: I’d done something _extremely_ wrong.

Shouting at Brandon had felt carthartic. Yeah, I’d felt bad, but the primary emotion had been one of release. All the anger, all the fury I’d had for days—I’d let it all out with a single rant.

And yelling at my sister had felt the same, honestly. She’d been _very intentionally_ bugging me for days, and driving me mad in a whole other way for weeks. When I’d shouted at her, when I’d called her out for being an irritating moron, it was like I’d managed to let go of that anger.

It’s like…I dunno, toxins? Is that how those work?

I’d been two for two. You yell at someone, you feel bad for yelling at them…but so, so good for getting it all out of your system.

But spanking my sister hadn’t been like that. I didn’t feel the carthasis, the release. After unleashing my fury in such a physical way, I felt nothing but guilt.

Guilt, and confusion.

I didn’t tell Merideth. God, I don’t even know how you would _start_ that conversation. ‘Hey hon, sorry we haven’t talked lately, I got my sister off with my hand and can’t stop thinking about it.’

My girlfriend wouldn’t understand, I knew that for a fact. Partially because…well, I knew her…but mostly because _I_ didn’t understand.

I’d been there. I’d witnessed it. No, that implies some degree of separation.

I’d done more than witness it—I’d _lived_ it.

Losing my temper, bringing my hand down onto my sister’s ass again and again and again…I couldn’t believe I’d done it. There was no price I wouldn’t pay to go back and reverse it. And none of it made any sense to me.

How the hell could I expect it to make sense to Merideth?

I felt like I was losing my mind. Whenever I closed my eyes, I relived it—all of it. The fury. The spanking.

My sister’s long, loud orgasm.

And so for almost three days straight, I barely left my room. I’d duck out when I was sure no one was around, grab some food and use the bathroom, and then return to my cave. I didn’t want to see anyone, or talk to anyone—least of all my sister.

If I could have hit a button to ensure that I never saw my sister again, I probably would have.

I self-medicated with video games, mostly—slaying spires meant that I didn’t have to think about what I’d done. About my sister’s flushed, panting body. The look of lust in her eyes as my hand rained down on her perfect butt.

The way her twitching body had felt, pressed up against my hard cock.

And so I’d play run after run, getting better at the game each time. I’d play until I couldn’t keep my eyes open, then I’d fall sleep…and dream of what had happened.

It was hell, but I couldn’t complain. I knew I deserved it.

I’d gotten my sister off. I’d lost my temper, and spanked my sister until she came.

I deserved far worse than locking myself in my bedroom and playing video games, that was for sure.

For those three days, I didn’t masturbate. How could I? If my mind slipped, if I thought about my sister while I came…that was it. There was no path forward from there. I’d have to move to Australia and become an emu farmer. I’d have to volunteer to be the first solo mission to Mars—as far away from civilization as I could possibly go.

After three solid days of my laptop screen being my only source of illumination, I realized that it wasn’t getting better. The thoughts weren’t going away. And as my balls filled up, my mind kept slipping back to what had happened.

I hadn’t seen Merideth for well over a month. The only sexual contact I’d had in six weeks had been with my sister.

Something had to change.

And so I called my girlfriend for phone sex. I needed to get something in my head that wasn’t my sister’s body. I needed to cause arousal in someone I wasn’t related to.

I needed to associate moans of pleasure with something that wasn’t guilt.

Merideth was excited to hear from me. I hadn’t been avoiding her…well, not specifically. I’d been avoiding the world, and she just happened to be part of the world. Before…it had happened…we’d probably spoken on the phone every day or two, so it had been a bit of a gap.

And she was particularly excited by my suggestion.

It wasn’t anything fancy. I don’t really have much of an imagination, so I just described what I was doing, how it felt. Merideth did the same, which was hotter than I expected. When I came, my load was super thick (presumably because of how long it had been since I last got off), which really excited her. She assumed it was because of how much I’d enjoyed the phone sex, and promised to call me again soon.

That night, I left my room. One small step for man, and all that.

Mom wasn’t anywhere to be seen, but I immediately encountered my sister in the kitchen. Part of me wanted to turn back around, but…yeah, I couldn’t live the rest of the life avoiding my only sibling.

I had to face this. Get on the horse, and all that.

She was making one of her disgusting sandwiches. You know how I said I have no imagination? Well, when it comes to foodstuffs, my sister has way _too much_. I don’t even know how to describe them—it’s like she takes a list of reasonable sandwich ingredients, and just mixes them all together.

Like, if she likes it individually, she must like them together. It’s so, so gross.

“That’s so, so gross,” I said flatly, as she carefully spread mayonnaise onto a chopped-up banana.

“I like it,” she replied. I watched as she sprinkled raisins onto it.

And then added curry powder.

“That’s because _you’re_ gross,” I retorted, and she turned to stare coolly into my eyes.

“What’re you going to do?” she grinned. “Punish me?”

My eyebrows shot up at her reply. I guess I’d just assumed we’d…y’know, dance around it. Not bring it immediately.

“No,” I replied far too quickly.

I took a deep breath, and forced myself to mentally count to ten. I couldn’t let her get under my skin again.

We knew exactly where that had led last time.

“Eating that sandwich is punishment enough,” I said, trying to lighten the mood.

“Let me know if you want me to make you one.”

“Never,” I said, relaxing a little once I realized she was following my lead. Maybe we could get past…what had happened the other day.

Maybe our relationship could return to normal.

And then, she completely removed any chance of that happening.

I should’ve seen it coming. Not just from, y’know, “knowing my sister”—she tensed up a little before she did it. I should’ve worked out what that meant, recognized that rush of adrenaline you get right before you escalate a situation.

But I didn’t.

“Have this one,” she said, and before I realized what was happening, my sister had taken her ridiculous snack and shoved it into my partially-open mouth.

I spat it out in shock, but not before the grotesque combination of ingredients (seriously, who puts fish and fruit onto the same sandwich?) hit my taste buds.

“What the _fuck_?” I said. Now it was my turn to fill with adrenaline. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

My eyes widened as I saw the now-familiar look of lust spreading across my sister’s face.

Fuck. _Fuck_. It was happening again.

I had to stop it. I had to deescalate. Calm thoughts. Breathe. Count to ten. Let the red fade.

But before I could let my rational side take over, my sister escalated things. If we’d been at a seven, she didn’t just take us up to a ten—she took us to a hundred.

She moved forward, pressing her bikini-clad body against mine, and wrapped her arms around my body.

“Fuck me,” she said, her voice a soft growl. “Do it. I want you to fuck me.”

And then she kissed me.

Now, in and of itself, that probably wouldn’t have been enough to set me off. Like, it was wrong, and I guess I was mad at my sister for…well, every part of it. The unwelcome physical contact, the casual attitude towards…y’know, fucking _incest_.

But if that had been it, I would have been able to walk away. I would have kept control of my emotions and left the kitchen, returned to my room. Maybe never emerged, I don’t know.

No, what tipped me over the edge was working it out.

In that moment, all the pieces came together:

When I get mad, the women around me get horny.

Why? I had absolutely no idea. I still don’t—pheronomes, maybe. Or something about my angry brainwaves—maybe they were somehow bouncing out of my skull and into the brains of everyone around me.

But whatever the reason, my anger—somehow—directly translated into the arousal of whoever I was in the room with.

That’s why Merideth cracking her knuckles always ended in sex. That’s why my ex had teased me at parties.

And that was why my sister had cum when I’d spanked her the previous day.

If I’d worked this out in my bedroom, things would’ve gone very differently. I would have had time to think it through, in a calm and collected way. Maybe I would’ve still gotten mad, but it wouldn’t have affected anyone.

I could’ve worked through it by myself, and kept control of the situation. I would have considered the best way to deal with it, come up with strategies for being around other people.

And I definitely, definitely wouldn’t have fucked my sister.

But that isn’t how things went down. Instead, I’d made this revelation at the very moment my sister was trying her hardest to antagonize me.

I’d worked out what was happening as my sister—who had clearly been a few steps ahead of me in piecing this together—had pressed her lips against mine.

She’d figured this out before me. That was the thought running through my mind in that moment. She’d puzzled it out…and she hadn’t warned me. She hadn’t told me what happened when I got mad, even though she knew before I did.

Instead, she’d used it to her advantage.

My sister had deliberately pissed me off so that I’d fuck her. She must have liked how it felt, when I got mad next to her.

And instead of saying anything to me about it, she’d used to to manipulate me into fucking her.

How messed up is that?

If I’d been in a more calm state of mind, maybe I would’ve worked out that getting mad at her was just giving her exactly what she wanted.

But, well…I didn’t.

Instead, I lost my temper. Worse than I ever had before.

“You fucking bitch,” I hissed, my eyes flaring with rage. “Jesus Christ you’re messed up. You did this deliberately, didn’t you? You’re such a pervert…you _want_ to get me mad. Do you know how manipulative that is? You’re literally manipulating my emotions to get what you want, you abusive little _cunt_.”

Just as it had before, getting the rant out made me feel better…but just as I felt myself beginning to calm down slightly, the wanton look on my sister’s face set me off again.

Again, had I been more rational about it, I would’ve worked out that getting mad at my sister was just rewarding her behavior.

But you know how when you’re angry, you can fixate on a thought? Everything else falls away. Well, in that moment it didn’t worry me that our mother was home, just a few rooms away. I didn’t consider my loving girlfriend who I’d just had phone sex with for the first time.

I didn’t care about the fact that I was giving my sister exactly what she wanted.

A single thought filled my brain, and I couldn’t see the logic as anything but perfect.

“You want me to fuck you?” I growled.

My sister nodded desperately.

“I’ll fuck you,” I threatened, my voice quivering with rage. Her eyes rolled back into her head with arousal. “I’ll fuck you harder than you’ve ever been fucked.”

Like I said, I’m not a violent person. Spanking my sister had been completely out of character…I’d never so much as lightly choked either of my girlfriends.

My thinking had felt so clear, so obvious. The previous day, I’d punished her with my hand.

Now, I was going to punish her with my cock.

I was going to use my sister’s body to get off, giving zero consideration to her wants or needs. I’m normally a gentle lover; I’d always figured that’s what women wanted. And even when my ex had pissed me off with her flirting, or Merideth with her knuckle-cracking, the sex had been soft and loving. I’d been annoyed by what they’d done, but still very much in control.

But no one— _no one_ —knows how to push your buttons like your family, and my sister was the absolute Queen of driving me over the edge.

And so in my fury, I decided to give her what she wished for. I was going to fuck my sister, so hard, so mercilessly, so roughly, she’d regret crossing me in the first place.

I was going to pound my sister so hard, she wouldn’t be able to walk.

That’d show her.

My sister moaned as I lifted her onto the kitchen counter, a determined look in her eyes. Her body was practically vibrating with want—knowing that her lust was driven by my anger made me even madder, and as I reached down to unbutton my jeans, my sister’s bikini bottom was soaked through.

“Please…” she begged, but I held up a finger.

“Shut up,” I ordered, and a shockwave of pleasure passed through her body.

“No,” she responded, and even though I knew exactly what she was doing…it worked. Her disobedience stoked my rage, and I could see her blush grow at my fury.

With the laser focus that comes with true anger, I concentrated on my goal.

I was going to mercilessly fuck my baby sister. I was going to show her what happened when she tried to play me. I was going to fuck her until I came, with no regard for her pleasure.

And god damn it, I was going to enjoy it.

As I clumsily lowered my pants, my cock came into view. I’ve no real basis for comparison—I’ve never measured myself or looked up stats online—but both of my girlfriends had assured me I had a very nice dick.

But I have to admit…none of them had ever looked at it like my sister did. Her eyes widened, then immediately glazed over with lust. Her mouth dropped open, and I wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d started drooling.

My sister wanted my cock. She wanted it more than I’d ever seen her want anything.

I don’t know if she tore her bikini bottoms off or I did; the next thing I remember was my dick at the entrance of her pussy. I didn’t enter her slowly, or wait for her wetness to adjust as I normally would.

Instead, I pushed forward, sliding my entire length into my sister’s soaking wet pussy. I had one hand on the kitchen cabinet above her head, the other on her bare thigh—I had never before noticed what a perfect height this counter was for sex.

My sister let out a shocked gasp, and I felt a dark pleasure in knowing that she hadn’t been expecting me to just…go for it. I pulled out, and thrust my erection inside her again, fast and hard.

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” she moaned, and I stared into her eyes.

“I told you to shut up,” I said, moving my hand from her thigh to her throat.

To my surprise, she didn’t talk back, or resist. Instead, she just nodded as I wrapped my strong hand around her tanned throat, and continued to fuck her.

My blood was pounding in my head, my throat…my entire body. But I clearly had plenty to go around, because my cock was hard as steel as it repeatedly slid inside my brat of a sister, eliciting moans of pleasure with each thrust.

I’d gotten off earlier that day, so despite having the first sex I’d had in a month—and perhaps the best sex I’d had in my life—I wasn’t anywhere near cumming even after several minutes of pounding into my sister’s slick pussy.

Unlike her.

“Oh, _yesss,_ ” she moaned. The feeling of my sister’s body twitching in pleasure reminded me that I was ostensibly doing this to punish her…and that the fact that I was being far from gentle didn’t seem to be bothering her at all.

Earlier that week, I’d witnessed my sister’s orgasm—and despite the circumstances being very different, I recognized the signs. She was going to cum again. If this was supposed to be punishment, it was failing at all counts.

I loosened my grip on her throat—her eyes opened, watery with lust. A smile appeared on my face as I raised my hand, and slapped her.

I expected a cry of pain, but—just as when I’d spanked her a few days prior—I was met with a happy, horny moan.

“God damn it,” I grunted. A surge of anger rose within me—I couldn’t win! The angrier I got, the more turned on my sister became, and there was nothing I could do about it. No matter how rough I was, it did nothing to diminish her enjoyment.

Apparently my rage was enough to push my sister over the edge—I could feel the walls of her vagina contract…I didn’t slow down, in the hope that would somehow ruin her orgasm. Her climax coated my cock with even more lubrication, and I caught my breath for a moment at the sensation.

The feeling of my sister’s sopping wet cunt wrapped around my cock was unlike anything I’d felt. Just as I’d spent most of the summer annoyed at her for being so damn hot, I was furious at how good she was in bed.

“Fuck!” I shouted. My sister arched her back, and I reached down to pull her bikini top down. Her nipples were everything I’d imagined they’d be—long, and rubbery. I leaned in and took them in my mouth, biting down hard.

The look of pain on my sister’s face gave me a rush, but it almost immediately turned to pleasure. I knew if I bit any harder, I risked drawing blood, so I pulled my mouth back.

“You’re such a fucking slut,” I panted. The sight of my sister’s tits bouncing, the feeling of her wetness, the inherent taboo of what we were doing…I knew that if we continued, it wouldn’t be long until I came, coating my sister’s womb with my seed.

“You are,” she gasped in response. “You’re a slut.”

“Shut up,” I hissed, and once more, she unexpectedly obeyed.

For some reason, that was what did it. The sight of my sassy sister submissively closing her mouth in response to my order...it was enough to tip me over the edge. I moaned loudly as I felt my cock pulse, shooting wave after wave of cum inside my sister’s pussy.

“Oh, fuck…” she moaned, and I could feel her vibrating anew as the third orgasm I’d given her that week spread across her body.

As soon as we were done, the guilt hit me.

“Shit,” I said, wide-eyed. “Oh, shit shit shit shit shit.”

“Mmmm,” my sister responded in a pleased hum. “C’mon, bro—it wasn’t that bad.”

“What did we just do?”

She let out a moan of frustration as I pulled my softening cock out from between her legs. We both looked down to see some of my clear cum oozing out of her pussy.

“I think it’s pretty clear what we just did,” she said with a smile.

“Jesus,” I said, pulling my pants up. “Mom is two rooms over!”

“Don’t sweat it; she’s watching TV.”

“She’s not even in her room??”

“Chill, bro,” my sister replied lazily. Her tits were still out, and she’d moved one hand between her legs to toy with my cum.

“How are you so calm about this?” I asked.

“What’s the problem?” she said, moving her finger up to her lips to taste the load I’d just deposited inside her. “It’s just sex.”

It’s just sex. That was the phrase that ran around my head late into the night, as I lay in my bed, unable to sleep. It’s just sex.

I’d known my sister had a much more relaxed attitude to sex than I did, but…fuck, this was pushing it. How could she see it as _just sex_? We were brother and sister, blood related. What we’d done was incest…it could mess her up for life.

I stared at my ceiling, some things clicking into place. I’d known my sister liked sex, but it seemed I’d understimated her passion for it. Don’t get me wrong—I’m a pretty big fan myself, but the events of that afternoon had made it clear that my sister’s libido was on a whole other level.

No wonder she’d kept Brandon around for so long. He was big and dumb and—from the sounds of it—fucked her exactly how she liked to be fucked.

Exactly how I’d fucked her.

Why had I thought that fucking her hard and treating her rough would be a punishment? It was clear to me now…that was exactly how my sister liked it.

Oh, god. I knew how my sister had sex. My dick now knew what it felt like when she came…I’d experienced my sister’s orgasm.

No, not just experienced. _Caused_.

…and what about Merideth?

We’d said we loved each other, and I’d meant it. I loved my girlfriend. I was completely, truly in love with my girlfriend.

And I’d just cheated on her with my sister.

My sister had made me mad, forced me to lose control. She’d provoked me into fucking her on the kitchen bench, no more than thirty feet away from our unsuspecting mother. She hadn’t cared about the fact I had a girlfriend, or that we were related. She’d just wanted the lust my anger caused…and to feel my cock inside her.

That was the worst thing, somehow. Worse than the cheating, or the incest, or the way my sister had manipulated me. No, the worst part of all…was how good it felt.

I’d always enjoyed sex, but fucking my sister had truly been something else. It had been so wrong, but felt like nothing else.

It was almost sunrise before I finally managed to drift off. As my eyes closed, the last thing I remembered was how good my sister’s hot pussy had felt around my hard cock…

* * *

New chapters of all my stories appear on [my Patreon](https://www.patreon.com/panwhowrites) 6 months before going online anywhere else.


	Chapter 3

I was tempted to hide away in my room again. After what had just happened, I didn’t know how to deal with my sister...hell, I didn’t know how to deal with myself. With what I’d done.

I’d fucked my sister. And, even worse, it had been amazing.

But last time I’d hid away in my room for three days, and...well, that hadn’t ended well.

No, I had to face this. I had to confront what I’d done.

_Who_ I’d done.

I took a deep breath as I stepped into the kitchen, trying to stay calm. That, I knew, was the key. I had to stay calm. If I let myself get angry…I’d lose control. My lizard brain would take over.

And my lizard brain didn’t care about morality, or fidelity, or even basic biology.

It just wanted me to get laid.

I took another breath, then walked into the kitchen. My sister was sitting at the table, wearing a pair of loose shorts and a tank top. She was eating cereal, and scrolling on her phone...but the moment I entered, she set it aside.

“Hey numb-nuts,” she said, her eyes lighting up at the sight of me. I raised one eyebrow.

“Seriously?”

“What?” she said, her face the picture of innocence.

I sighed. If she was going to be this transparent, it was going to be easy.

“I know what you’re doing,” I said flatly. “It’s not going to work.”

“What am I doing?” she asked, suddenly playing the ingénue.

“You’re trying to get me mad.”

“Maybe I’m just calling it how I see it.”

I rolled my eyes. I wasn’t taking the bait.

“I just wanted to let you know: what we did yesterday...that can’t happen again. It wasn’t cool.”

In response, I was expecting a fight. Or more base insults. But my sister continued her trend of surprising me, and just tilted her head to the side in response.

“Why not?”

I paused for a moment, trying to work out what her game was. Just trying to keep me off-guard, I suppose. To be safe, I took a deep breath before responding.

“Because it’s wrong,” I answered simply. “I have a girlfriend. Fuck, you’re my _sister_!“

“It didn’t feel wrong yesterday,” she grinned in response, and I mentally cursed my dick for throbbing at the memory. Down, boy.

“Look, I don’t know what’s...going on with me. But taking advantage of it like that is...it’s really fucked, sis. And I think you know it.”

My sister stood up, and I instinctively took a step back. I was against the kitchen counter...the same kitchen counter I’d fucked her on less than fifteen hours earlier.

“You think I took advantage of _you_?” she asked, her eyebrows raised. She began walking towards me, and I suddenly felt like a trapped animal. I wanted to take another step back, but there was nowhere to go.

“Yes,” I replied coolly, meeting her gaze. “I do.”

“I’m eighteen,” she reminded me. “And half your size.”

Her eyes flicked down to my erection at that, and I forced myself to maintain eye contact.

“You’re my big brother,” she continued. “You’re supposed to love me. To protect me.”

She stopped in front of me, and reached out to touch my chest.

“But yesterday, you treated me like a slut,” she said softly. “A piece of ass.”

I opened my mouth to say something, but she pressed a finger to my lips.

“You took your poor, innocent, defenseless sister...”

“What??”

I could feel myself getting agitated by her words, and I tried to focus. On staying calm. She was just saying this to piss me off. My sister knew exactly what she was doing. She was just trying to press my buttons.

She wanted round two of what we’d done yesterday, and I was NOT going to give it to her.

“That’s not what happened,” I said, my voice as level as I could possibly keep it. “And you know it.”

Again, my sister tilted her head to the side.

“Maybe not,” she said, and a wicked smile spread across her face. “...but do you really think that’s how Mom will see it?”

As I’ve mentioned, no one can press my buttons like my sister. And she knew it.

“What??” I said again, my voice a low growl. I could feel the fury rising inside me. My sister had manipulated me into fucking her, into losing control until I brought her—and myself—to a powerful orgasm. She’d needled at me until I’d done something unforgiveable, something I would never have done if I was of sane mind...

...and now, she was trying to blackmail me for it.

My sister’s hand was on my chest, and her hair was down. It fell in waves over her shoulders. She was smiling, and I was frozen in place.

“Didn’t you hear me?” she asked, her voice a mischievous lilt. “I said _maybe_.“

“You’re crazy,” I breathed, my voice cracking slightly. “What are you doing?”

“I’m just presenting options,” she said, moving her arm up until it was around my neck. “I’m just saying, yesterday was...such a blur. There are a few different ways I could tell the story.”

“Sis...this isn’t funny.”

She smirked, and leaned in close.

“Trust me, I know,” she whispered.

“So what are you—”

“On the other hand,” she interrupted, her voice dropping to a whisper, “if we did it again, then clearly it must have been consensual.”

“This isn’t consensual,” I said firmly. “Let me be clear about this—I do not consent. I don’t want to cheat on my girlfriend. I don’t want to fuck my _sister_.“

“Oh,” she said, and just for a moment, I saw hurt appear in her eyes. But just as soon as it appeared, she’d blinked it away. “Then I guess I’ll have to tell Mom what you did.”

“What _I_ did?” I snapped. Fuck. She was getting to me. I had to calm down. I had to...—

“That’s right,” she said, moving her other arm around my neck. “Yesterday. When you raped me.”

I wish I could say that she was too obvious. That I recognized how transparent she was being and walked away. That I’d calmed down in my bedroom, maybe called my girlfriend, jerked off. Anything to regain my composure. To become a reasonable, level-headed individual again.

But...god. When my temper rises, I lose all reason. All perspective. It’s like I get tunnel vision. All I could think about was regaining control of the situation. Showing my sister that she couldn’t mess with me.

My eyes narrowed. I could feel the redness taking over. And, from the hazy look that appeared in my sister’s eyes...so could she.

“Fuck you,” I snapped. “You entitled little fucking princess. You think you can just snap your fingers and I’ll do whatever you want, don’t you? You think that because you’ve got the body of a porn star, men will just fall over themselves to obey your every command.”

I hadn’t even noticed my hand moving to my sister’s throat. I was holding her—not dangerously, just in a way that told her I was in command. That I was the boss.

That in that moment, I owned her.

“Uh huh,” she replied, her voice a low groan.

“Well, it’s not that fucking simple,” I growled in reply. “You can’t manipulate me like I’m every other guy. You can’t push me around. You can’t make me do anything I don’t want to do. And so no, you little bitch. I’m not going to fuck you.”

“Is that right?” she said, her eyes flashing.

I didn’t say anything in response, just moved my hands to her shoulders and pushed her down. I expected her to fight back, to call me names or tell me that I was wrong. Instead, she allowed herself to be lowered to her knees, until she was at eye-level with the bulge in my pants.

I didn’t have to say anything. My sister knew what I wanted. Her hands were trembling as she removed my belt buckle and my cock sprang free. She stared at it for a moment, her mouth slack, her breasts heaving with lust.

She glanced up at me; I just glared back. Alister was out; the lizard brain was in control now. It wanted to humiliate her, to punish her for what she’d tried to do.

For what she’d done yesterday.

Or maybe that was just the justification it was sending whatever was left of my monkey brain. Maybe that was just what I was telling myself to justify what, in the red heat of anger, I wanted to do.

When I was this mad, I didn’t see her as my sister. She was just a woman. A piece of meat. A perfect body that needed to put into its place.

And it seemed she didn’t object to what I saw as her place.

My sister wrapped her fingers around my shaft and leaned forward. I watched as she took the first inch of my cock into her mouth, and sucked gently. She moaned quietly as she worked her tongue along the underside of my cock, and a sensation of vindication came over me.

She hadn’t won. I’d shown her who was boss. I hadn’t fucked my sister today. Instead, I was putting her in her place. I was showing her that she didn’t have power over me. I was showing her exactly what she was.

“You’re a dirty little cocksucker,” I spat, and my sister nodded in agreement, sucking harder. “You were born to suck cock, weren’t you?”

She nodded again. As she lowered her head further, her cheeks hollowed, and her lips stretched wide.

“Mmmmm,” she moaned around my cock, and I felt the heat of her mouth envelop my dick. I moved my hands to her hair; as soon as I felt her pull back, I pulled her head down hard.

My sister grunted, and I felt her throat muscles squeeze my cock as she swallowed me. I held her tightly, and used my grip to force her to take more and more of my cock.

“Take it all,” I growled. “You little slut.”

I needed to show her that she wasn’t in charge. That I was the one in control, not her. That her little game hadn’t worked; she’d tried to manipulate me, and now she was on her knees.

But just like the day before, the more dominant and forceful I was, the more she seemed to get off on it.

“Mmmhmmmm,” she groaned, and I could feel her swallowing again.

“Say it,” I ordered, pulling her head off my cock. The hazy, confused look on her face made my cock pulse, which just served to make me even madder.

My sister is proud. Fiesty. And I couldn’t think of a better punishment than this, than forcing her to admit she was a little cocksucking whore.

“I...love...it,” she gasped.

“What?” I demanded. “Be specific.”

“I love it,” she panted. “I love it. I love sucking your cock.”

I let go of her head, and she immediately went back to work. I felt my sister’s tongue swirl around the tip of my cock as she moaned loudly. I watched as her head bobbed up and down, taking my cock deep into her throat and then pulling back.

She was electric. Merideth and my previous girlfriend had (individually) given me head, but they’d always treated it like a chore. With every movement of my sister’s head, her lips, her tongue, I could feel my cock throbbing. The efforts I’d experienced in the past paled in comparison to my sister’s; she was a natural.

Or she’d had a lot of practice. I didn’t want to reflect on which was more likely.

“Say you’re a whore,” I ordered, pulling out of my sister’s mouth.

“I’m a whore,” she admitted. Her eyes were wide, and I realized she was staring up at me with the most intense, possessive gaze I’d ever seen.

“That’s it,” I hissed. “Keep going. Keep sucking it.”

“Mmmhmmmm,” she whimpered, and I could feel her working her mouth faster.

I was breathing heavily, and my sister’s eyes widened in surprise as I grabbed her hair and pulled her head back hard. I wanted to see her face as I fucked her mouth.

“Look at me,” I ordered, and she obeyed. “Do you like this?”

My sister nodded.

“Yes,” she moaned. “I like it. I love sucking your cock.”

“Tell me you’re a dirty little cocksucker,” I snarled.

“I’m a dirty little cocksucker,” she whimpered. “I love sucking your cock. I’m _your_ dirty little cocksucker.“

“Tell me what you want,” I ordered.

“I want to swallow your cum,” she gasped. “I want to swallow your hot, sticky load. I want to feel my brother shoot his cum into my mouth.”

A wave of anger pulsed across my body. This wasn’t meant to be pleasurable for her; this was supposed to be a punishment. I was trying to demonstrate that she couldn’t cross me, not give her exactly what she wanted.

“Too bad,” I said, and yanked her head back hard. She let out a moan of arousal as she fell backwards onto the kitchen floor. Standing above her, I wrapped my hand around my cock. I hadn’t even noticed her moving one hand between her legs, but as I jerked myself, staring down at my sister, I could see her trembling with arousal.

“You don’t choose when I come,” I said, stroking myself furiously. “You don’t get to decide if you’re going to swallow my load or not.”

“Yes,” she moaned, and I could see her hand moving faster and faster. “Yes, I do.”

My anger spiked once more. “You’re nothing,” I spat, shaking with rage. “You’re a piece of human garbage. You’re not even good enough at sucking cock to finish me off. You’re not even hot enough to fuck. You’re not even worth the effort.”

At my words of fury I could see my sister cumming, writhing around in orgasm, one hand reaching up to grab her tit through her tank top.

The sight of my sister’s orgasm triggered my own—or perhaps it was the other way around. Either way, my cock began to twitch, shooting streams of cum all over her face and body. My sister moaned in response, and I could see my glistening semen landing on her face, her neck, her white tank top and bare legs.

As my orgasm subsided, I could feel my rage fading...but I didn’t want it to. I didn’t want to return to the world of rational thought. I didn’t want to deal with what I’d just done.

“Now clean it up,” I snapped, trying desperately to hold onto my anger, and my sister just moaned obediently.

“Mmmhmmm,” she agreed, and started licking my cum off her skin.

By the time she was done, I was gone, back in my room.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. What the fuck had I just done?

I’d let her do it again. I’d let my fucking goddamn sister manipulate me into...well, at least this time I hadn’t fucked her.

No, instead I’d just let her blow me until I came, coating her body with my seed.

Like that was any better.

I leaned against my bedroom wall and forced myself to calm down. If I stayed mad like this, she’d...I’d...

Fuck! I couldn’t think about what would happen, or that would just make me even more mad.

Breathing deeply, I started counting backwards from one hundred. By the time I reached fifty, I was feeling somewhat better. By the time I hit twenty, I was starting to think rationally again.

I’d let my sister get to me. Again.

This couldn’t keep happening. This could never happen again. I needed to...

I shook my head. I had no idea what I needed to do. I’d thought that I could talk to my sister rationally, but she knew exactly how to wind me up. Clearly, I couldn’t be trusted alone with her.

I needed backup, but who could I even talk to about this? Merideth? Mom? Fucking _Brandon_?

There was no one I could talk to about this. No one who could even begin to understand what I was going through. The only person who really knew the situation was my sister, and obviously discussing it with her was out of the question.

No, I just had to avoid her. For...well, the rest of the summer. And then the rest of our lives. Problem solved.

With a sigh, I put on headphones, turned on a video game, and desperately tried not to think for the rest of the day.

* * *

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