If Fucking My Brother is Wrong, I Don’t Want to Be Right

I was sneaking back in after a night of partying with friends.  I was drunk and trying to be a quiet as possible walking across the hardwood floor in my six-inch heels.  Mom and dad were asleep, but I saw my brother’s light on from the bottom of the stairs.  I slipped off my heels and made my way up the steps.  I peeked through his door, catching him with his rock hard cock in his hands.

Knew I shouldn’t have been watching, but I couldn’t stop myself.  His cock was so big and, in my current state, I was hungry for it.  I stumbled and hit the door jam, swinging the door open.  I was busted.  He didn’t stop.  He just looked at me in my tight pink dress and kept on stroking.

  It didn’t even feel real as I walked into his room and over to his bed.  I unzipped my dress and climbed into his bed, wrapping my soft hand around his cock.  He began to pinch my nipples as my hands slid up and down.  I knew this was wrong, but I didn’t want to stop.  I was horny and he was too.  He pushed his hand down my panties and felt my wetness.  Our animal instincts took over.

 He pulled off my panties and I climbed on top of him, sliding his cock inside my tight hole.

  I rode him wildly.  My tits were bouncing, ass slapping his thighs, and pussy juice soaking his cock.  He felt so good inside of me, better than I had ever expected.  I came just in time for him to throw me off of him.  He told me to get on my knees and open my mouth.  He shot his sticky load in my mouth with a stream of cum dripping down my chin onto my tits.  If fucking your brother is wrong, I didn’t want to be right!

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