Her pussy gushed and the juices dripped down his cock to collect at the base of his shaft and pubic hair.
He couldn’t hold back, he was too far gone in lust to resist anymore – he unloaded in her and she shuddered on top of him with each powerful spurt of the semen he injected into her.
“Tell me I’m pretty!” she pleaded as he spurted into her.
“You’re fucking beautiful!” he told her.
“Tell me I’m as pretty as Mom again!”
He gasped and choked, the adrenaline of his exertion and the ecstasy of ejaculating in a tight little pussy blended sickingly with the horrible realization that the woman who mounted him now was his little sister – not his mother!
“Oh, God!” he cried out in shock. “What the fuck!”
She slid off of him and fled, pulling the door shut behind her so hard it sounded as loud as a gunshot in the silent dark house.
He rolled quickly to his nightstand and clicked on the lamp but she was already gone.
He could hear the sound of her footsteps as she took the flight of stairs to the kitchen then the softer sound of her footsteps as she bounded back up to her bedroom.
If their parents weren’t awakened by all that ruckus, he would be very surprised.
The bright light of the lamp blinded him for a few moments but when he finally could see – he could see that the liquid he’d imagined was his mother’s ejaculate was in actuality his little sister’s blood. It coated his entire shaft and pooled around his nuts.
He wiped a sample up with his finger and smelled it. It wasn’t menstrual blood … it was blood from her torn vagina.
He’d just taken his little sister’s virginity.
********************************
He made his way to the kitchen a little before noon. His hangover wasn’t too bad but it was enough to get his attention. The shower hadn’t helped with the hangover but it had helped wash away some of the guilt he felt.
Mom stood over the sink gazing out the window, apparently lost in thought.
She hadn’t bothered to dress yet; she was still wearing her robe over her nightdress. Her hair was up in a loose bun pinned up by two pencils.
John paused in the doorway to admire her. Even now, pregnant and disheveled, she was still incredibly beautiful to him.
She seemed to sense his presence and turned around. John noticed she had a hand in her robe massaging one of her breasts. The look on her face hinted that she was uncomfortable.
“Are you alright?” he asked her.
She smiled and nodded. “Yeah, it’s the milk,” she slid the robe down off of her shoulder to expose her tit. A small drop of colostrum ran down her breast. “I started early with Grace and Jenna … I really shouldn’t be lactating for another month or two at least but – there it is … it aches a little too.”
“Can I taste it?” he asked.
She looked over her shoulder out the window to keep tabs on her husband.
“Well,” she chuckled, “I don’t just go around pulling out my tits for no reason.”
John laughed and walked across the kitchen. “Where’s the kids?”
“Don’t worry,” she put her arm over his shoulder and guided him to her breast, “They’re out riding with the neighbors … and you know Grace’s not coming down anytime soon.”