Wild Sex Tales(Erotica)

“The ones about the couples were cute, but I couldn’t get into them. I thought I’d be into the Gay one, but it didn’t do it for me. The bondage thing was a turnoff, though I liked the idea of being forced, maybe? Just not the pain part. The threesome one was OK. Watching the couple having sex in the forest was hot. The cheating one was good too. I guess I kind of like it when the people are doing something wrong, you know? Where it’s not just sex. It’s like, animal. Out of control.”

“I think I can find you more of those,” I said. Jennifer watched, though she couldn’t see my screen, as I went through and picked a few more stories. Based on what she’d told me, her tastes weren’t that dissimilar from mine. That made it easier, picking stories that I already knew I liked. Also, because she’d mentioned it, I risked sending her a non-con.

“Thanks!” Jennifer said after I texted her the last title.

“Standard discl…”

“Standard disclaimer applies,” Jennifer said, “Yes, I know. Have a good night!”

Again, despite looking at porn stories for the past half hour, I didn’t feel like using one. Maybe it was because the only face I could picture, the only body I could imagine, belonged to my sister.

The next morning, again, I was greeted by a bouncy Jennifer. She’d made me eggs and bacon for breakfast, and this time she sat at the table to join me.

“Last night’s were really good,” she said.

“You read all of them?” I asked.

Jennifer blushed but she nodded her head. “Multiples,” she said, “You could say I read ‘multiple’ stories last night.”

“You’re going to read me out of house and home,” I said.

“Can I ask you something?” Jennifer asked, “That one you sent me, where the wife goes back to college and can’t control herself. That was hot. But I’m kind of surprised you liked it?”

“Standard disclaimers,” I said, simply.

“No, I know,” Jennifer said, “I just figured that would be kind of a trigger for you. After everything with Beth and all.”

“Yes, sometimes those stories bother me,” I said, “But I don’t know. A lot of times, I don’t see myself as the husband, but the guy she’s cheating with. I guess it’s cathartic in some way. And, I don’t know, sometimes I like the stories that make me uncomfortable. Like, that almost makes it hotter.”

“I get that,” Jennifer said, “Like you said, just because you enjoy it in a story doesn’t mean you want it in real life.”

“Exactly.”

That day at work was way better and I got home at a decent time. I brought home Indian food and we ate over the table, both of us staring at our phones. After we were done eating, we stayed in that position. Hypnotized by our screens as the sun slunk below the horizon.

Then I heard Jennifer make a low moan. I looked and saw her hand had drifted down between her legs. She wasn’t touching anything, but it was hanging there, like she was getting ready.

“Are you reading a story right now?” I asked.

“Maybe,” Jennifer said. She winked at me over her phone screen.

“One I sent you?” I asked.© 2024 Nôv/el/Dram/a.Org.

“I found this one on my own,” she said, “It’s pretty hot.”

My phone buzzed and I saw that she’d sent me a link. I clicked it and the story she’d been reading was now on my own screen. I’d read this one before — honestly, there were times where I felt like I’d seen every erotic story in existence — but it had been a while, so I reread it.

Without verbal agreement, my sister and I both moved to the living room. Both of us still staring at the story. We leaned against the sides of the couch, our legs touching. Despite the fact that the sun had gone down, it was super-hot, and both of us were in our standard outfits. Jennifer was wearing a thin, baby blue tank top and green mesh shorts. I was in navy boxers and a white undershirt.

“Did you get there?” Jennifer asked. She was still dandling her free hand lazily between her legs.

“I think you would have noticed,” I said, waggling my eyebrows. Of course, she couldn’t miss my erection. In my tiny boxers, it stood up as large and looming as the Empire State Building.

“Did you finish the story, yet, I mean,” Jennifer asked.

“Oh,” I said, “Yes.”

“You want to pick the next one?”

“Sure,” I said. I scrolled around for something similar and sent it to her.

“Oooh, I can tell this one will be good,” she said, “I like it when they get knocked up. Or there’s the risk of it.”

“Like you said, it’s more fun when there’s a little danger,” I said.

“Exactly,” Jennifer said. I wasn’t expecting my sister to have an impregnation fetish. Immediately, I started thinking of all my favorites that I could share with her.

When she was done reading my selection, Jennifer passed me one back. It was another preg risk story, but this one also had non-consent.

“Standard disclaimers apply,” she said.

We spent the next couple hours that way, sending each other stories. The urge to touch myself was uncontrollable, but I managed to hold off. I wondered if Jennifer was experiencing the same thing. Was that a wet spot I saw in her shorts or just a shadow? Did she know her nipples were pointing through her tank? Did she notice my erection? Did I want her to notice it?

I put my phone down. I needed to stop, or things would really go over the edge.

“I think I’m going to go to bed,” I said.

“OK,” Jennifer said, simply.

I stripped down as soon as my door was shut. All I could see was my beautiful sister while I stroked myself. I didn’t care. I pictured her face, twisting in pleasure. Her pert, full breasts pressed against my chest. Her ass bouncing up and down on my dick. I came gobs. I came buckets. I soaked myself so bad, I thought about getting up to shower.

And all I could think about, as my breathing slowed, was that maybe my sister had gotten off at the same exact time.

The guilt showed up the next morning. I told myself that I didn’t really want Jennifer. She was my sister. And fifteen years younger than me, besides. It was the close quarters, the revealing clothes, and the, um, content.

My discomfort didn’t stop me from sharing more stories with my sister, though, and she sent just as many back. I’d only include links, but Jennifer would add little descriptions to her suggestions:

“She takes it in the ass in this one.”

“Strip poker. Kinda hot.”

“Threesome. Pregnant. LOVE.”

“Strip Scrabble?!”

“Do you think the gf will cheat? Is it wrong that I want her to cheat?”

Most evenings, we ended up on the couch together, trading our favorite porn stories like they were Pokemon cards. We talked about them too. Our dirty, sibling-only, book club.

When I did feel the need rub one out, though, I always went back to my room. A couple times, Jennifer straight up asked me to leave so she could do the same. We were sharing these intimate, sexual moments. But we, ourselves, were staying quite chaste.