I've always had a million problems weighing on my mind. The worst part wasn't even the problems themselves, but the fact that they never went away. No matter what I did, I could never escape them.
My parents were always on my case about still living with them. I didn't have a job, I wasn't in college, I didn't leave the house, I did absolutely nothing, so I suppose I can perfectly understand their frustration. Still, I guarantee their feelings weren't any worse than mine. Do people really think I enjoy being a failure? No, I definitely don't, but I can't seem to do anything to turn my situation around.
I used to spend entire days locked in my room, doing whatever I could to distract myself. But at some point, everything started to bore me. My routine was so monotonous, so empty, so dull! So, I ended up latching onto just about any form of entertainment to satisfy myself.
It was just me, my mom, my dad, and my younger sister living in our house. She was about ten years younger than me. I remember when I was a kid and found out my mom was pregnant; I cursed the heavens over it. I mean, did I really lose my status as an only child because of some random brat? Well, apparently so. As the years went by, I realized it wasn't all that bad, because my little sister was so quiet she could go completely unnoticed. For years, I hardly even interacted with her myself! We lived in the same house, yet it was as if we didn't even know each other. A bit sad, I admit, but I was never very good with emotions, so what could I do?
But... over the last five years, ever since I became deeply bored, my sister started to really catch my attention. I didn't go out much and never had a girlfriend I could be proud of, but my sister, on the other hand, was so kind, sweet, and cute... she was the perfect type of girl, anyone would love to have her as a girlfriend. I remember seeing her in the living room making paper gifts and birthday cards for her friends, but what if it were for a guy? My sister was the kind of girl who would easily spend a whole month writing a love letter two meters long.
Is she over the top? Probably. But I'd kill for that kind of attention, and I'm sure other guys would love to have a girlfriend who was that clingy.
I used to spy on her all the time. Sometimes she'd be crafting gifts on the living room floor, and I'd just stand in the hallway, watching all that dedication.
"Another card for your friends?"
"They're going on a trip next month, so I thought I'd give them a gift beforehand," she explained with a big smile, while I could only mumble "Hmm" and shove my hands into my shorts pockets.
"Don't you get tired of making stuff out of paper? It looks so boring."
"Not at all, bro. I promise it's fun! Why don't you give it a try? You might win a girl over that way," she said cheerfully. Weeks later, I made a paper card for her, too. My sister thanked me, and that was it.
She was very beautiful, very delicate and gentle. I'm not sure exactly when I started paying attention to my sister's thighs, but I definitely did. She used to come to the dinner table wearing those perfectly symmetrical miniskirts, just like the girls in anime. I don't know if our parents noticed me staring at her thighs—no one ever scolded me for looking too much—so, as time went on, I became increasingly bold. On Christmas Eve last year, while our father was reading the newspaper, our mother had her back turned, and my sister was walking over to sit at the table, I worked up the courage to touch and squeeze her thigh under her skirt. My sister looked at me, startled, but she seemed to take it as a joke, since she gave me a playful slap on the arm.
That was just the beginning.
A few years later, whether due to loneliness or other issues, I simply accepted that I was starting to desire my younger sister. At first, I tried to shake the feeling; I tried to blame myself and tell myself I was a monster, but that wasn't enough. The desire for something forbidden was fascinating; my sister could notice it and tell everyone, she could ruin my life even further... and that turned me on.
I thought it might just be a sick fantasy, a bizarre fetish, or something of the sort, but I assumed it would pass, that it was no big deal. After all, there are so many videos about sex with sisters out there on the internet; you don't even need to go to the deep web to find that kind of thing. Most were amateur videos, and I doubt they were real; the titles were always just clickbait, but the fact that they existed meant I wasn't the only one, and for a long time, that brought me some comfort. Eventually, though, I realized I was masturbating while fantasizing about having sex with my own sister. I would always finish exhausted, with my hand a mess of semen; sometimes I'd whisper her name softly while moving my hand frantically. I'd regret it later, but unfortunately, it became a routine.
And just masturbating while thinking about her stopped being enough to satisfy me.
I started doing it while watching my sister shower. I'd crack the door open and touch myself, watching her delicate body covered in soap and foam. I could have been caught at any moment, but that only turned me on even more.
I began stealing my sister's clothes to smell her perfume or, sometimes, to cum on the fabric. My mother even noticed the clothes going missing, but she didn't care enough to suspect me.
It kept getting worse.
I started losing my fear of everything.
I began following my little sister around the house and would sometimes even corner her against the wall.
"Hey! Brother, what are you doing? You scared me..."
"You smell so good," I replied, pinning her body against the kitchen counter.
"What?"
I remember planting a wet kiss on her cheek and even kissing her neck. My sister was startled, but I held onto her so she couldn't get away. If our mother hadn't called out to her, I would have done so much more right there in the kitchen. I wasn't afraid anymore. That night, I masturbated for most of the early hours, thinking about what I would have done if our mother hadn't asked for help.
My sister knew my intentions; she wasn't stupid, and I had started making it very clear, too!
I'd send her messages when she went out with friends; I'd follow her, compliment her, hug her, and shamelessly touch her smaller body. Despite everything, my sister never reported me, not even to her friends.
I realized she liked it, too. That maybe she loved me in that twisted way, too.
One day, our parents traveled to another state for a friend's funeral. They didn't have enough money, so they decided to drive. They left my sister in my care and took off...
That was certainly the worst idea the two of them ever had, and I wasn't sure if my parents were really that stupid. What they did was like handing a lamb on a silver platter to a wolf to guard, as if that was all he'd do...
My parents were probably idiots, or they simply refused to see the obvious! Both options fit perfectly.
As soon as they left, I locked the doors and dragged my sister to my room. I wish I'd been gentler, but she wouldn't stop screaming and crying. I had thought she wanted this too, but I guess not; my sister was probably just confused and scared. I planted a few kisses on her forehead as I struggled to close my bedroom door, since she was pinned in my arms. Tasting her lips was just the beginning.
I remember throwing her violently onto my bed, not because I wanted to hurt her, but because I was desperate to have her.
I couldn't wait another second, so I climbed on top of her; even though my sister was scratching me all over, I started tearing off her clothes.
I knew there was no turning back the moment I started ripping everything off, but I couldn't stop. I was mesmerized by my sister's beauty. She was so perfect, and all I could think about was dominating her and making her mine!
She was screaming so much, but I tried to kiss her to calm her down. I kissed every inch of her skin, her neck, her shoulders, her breasts... oh, her breasts, fuck! I sucked on them so hard, and it reminded me of when our mother used to breastfeed my little sister. She used to suckle just like I was doing.
"Don't you like it?" I asked amidst her cries for help as I hungrily sucked on her breasts.
I slid my hand under her skirt, pulled her panties to the side, and... I don't know, I was so desperate for my sister that it didn't take long for me to grab my cock and slide it into her pussy. I didn't even undress or take off her skirt and shoes. It was so quick and casual, as if we were used to having sex with half our clothes still on. My little sister seemed like such a pro at it. She looked even more beautiful with her top torn and crying out because of my cock. I found it incredibly erotic!
Sliding my cock inside my sister was certainly even better than I'd imagined. Having her tight pussy gripping me hard, while she screamed and I held her legs to fit against my body, was wonderful! Just wonderful!
Our neighbors might have heard her screams, but I didn't care; all that mattered was how deliciously tight my sister was. And how well her body fit against mine, despite the difference in our sizes.
I fucked her so hard, and my sister screamed so much she went hoarse.
I remember cumming inside ...her pussy, the terrified look she shot at me when I came inside her, as if she were a slut and deserved it... as if it were her reward for being so erotic.
I discovered my sister was a virgin before that... I was her first.
But I didn't stop. Not for a single second.
And now, even after months of doing the same thing, I can't stop.
My sister is in my bed, crying uncontrollably, lying on her stomach with her hair spread across the rumpled sheets. My semen is running down her thighs as I write all this and post it on the blog where I've shared this entire journey leading up to this very moment. Many people cursed me out, but others supported me. None of them mattered to me. The idea of getting my sister pregnant with my child began to fascinate me, and I shoved my cock back inside her pussy. She whimpered, begging me to stop, but I was already determined to get her pregnant. It would be interesting, and I wanted to see what my sister would say when her belly grew big. What would she say about this baby? Would she report me? Or would she say it was some boyfriend? A boyfriend she never actually had. It was always me, her brother.