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Sister's Secret ~The Secret That Cannot Be Told~ 

Like most people, I grew up in an ordinary family of four: a stubborn and strict father, a nagging
and incredibly annoying mother, and a younger sister.

My sister is three years younger than me; I'm a sophomore in college, and she's a high school sophomore.

Unlike me, who crammed for the college entrance exam and barely managed to get into a third-rate private university, my sister has
excellent grades and attends the city's top university, aiming for medical school.

Since she was old enough to understand, she's been incredibly hardworking, a far cry from her completely unambitious "brother."
In recent years the time she spends in classes, tutoring, and studying every day is almost more than I spend online...

I've heard that traditional Chinese values favor sons over daughters.

However, this flawed logic doesn't apply to our family at all—no, it's quite the opposite. Perhaps
my parents always expected a sweet and obedient daughter like a little princess, or perhaps the gap between a good-for-nothing son and a daughter
is simply too vast. Simply put, my status in the family is that of a pariah.

In daily life, from the dishes on my mother's table to the control of the TV remote, almost everything is based on
my sister's preferences. Not to mention, my sister, who has no sense of taste, actually loves green peppers, peas, and carrots the most
—it's clearly aimed at me! Even if she deliberately chose them, it wouldn't be that accurate! If she hadn't stopped watching
TV now, I wouldn't have had a sliver of hope. Otherwise, being deprived of both material and spiritual sustenance, I would have banged my head against
a wall.

From childhood to adulthood, I've been forced to compare myself to my sister in academics, conduct, grades, and talents. When I lose, I'm
often verbally criticized or have my allowance docked. It feels like a double attack from a stepfather and a stepmother, giving me the illusion of being born
Cinderella . If it weren't for the difference between boys and girls, I might have to wear my sister's hand-me-down dresses in public.

My sister's attitude towards me is also extremely disrespectful and arrogant, as if having a brother like me is
a stain on her life. I even heard her repeatedly call "someone" a loser on the phone, and it
took me a while to find out.

—So, I am "someone."


Life isn't a perpetual downhill slope; there's always a way out.

Although my university wasn't far from home, after insisting on living on campus under the guise of independence, I
felt like a bird released from its cage. University life, while not as rosy as I'd imagined,
was still much more colorful than the miserable black-and-white life at home.

Now, I've said goodbye to the naivety of a freshman, am moving towards becoming a veteran, and have the title of senior to impress the younger
girls—my life has become even more decadent.

And so, the story begins.



*** *** *** ***



Letting the warm sunlight wake me, I climbed out of my wooden bed in the dormitory. The short hand of the alarm clock was pointing to one
o'clock, and my tattered wallet only had a few coins left.


My living expenses seemed to be almost gone.

Hmm, it's time to go home and fulfill my filial duty as a son.


I forced a piece of cold toast that had been sitting out for who knows how many days into my mouth, immediately hopped on my old, beloved bicycle, and slowly rode towards my
warm and cozy home.


What?

Why am I not going to class?

Skipping class is bad behavior?


Using the term "skipping class" casually is an insult to the vast majority of students.

The school's timetable is just for reference, at most a goal, or an ideal,
just like every TV station has a program schedule from morning to night, but that doesn't mean viewers have to be glued to the TV to watch
everything; a restaurant menu has many choices, are we supposed to order them all?

Choosing a few suitable items and eating a little bit is enough for us.

The scene shifts to the front door. As soon as I stepped inside, I made a startling discovery: my sister's
black leather shoes for school were neatly lying on the shoe cabinet.


Huh?

Even a diligent student like my sister skips class? Could she have caught it from her brother?

We really can't underestimate the impact of a pest on the environment.


But then I remembered seeing a few high school students on the street. I was
secretly drooling over their innocent yet alluring looks in their uniforms.


It must be midterms, or maybe high schoolers are on some kind of study break.


A huge weight lifted from my shoulders.


Wow, there's a pair of sneakers on the shoe rack!


I picked them up and compared them to my feet.

—Two sizes too small.

Logically, my lazy dad shouldn't have sneakers.

A bad feeling crept over me. I tiptoed into the house, and sure enough, my detective instincts
were right—strange noises were coming from my sister's room.

I approached her room quietly, and the rapid breathing became clearer.


Ugh, not even closing the door properly, isn't that a bit too brazen?

Does she think her house is a free hotel?


Peeking through the slightly ajar door, I saw a tall, thin boy in a khaki uniform pressing down on my sister
, indulging in lust.


Damn! " And it's a prestigious school!

To do something so beastly, it's just...enviable."


A hysterical fantasy instantly flooded his mind—

Scene: His younger sister's room.

Characters: His younger sister, and an unknown male classmate, B.


"Senior, there are so many things I don't understand, senior, please teach me!" his sister said shyly.

"Hehehe, then I'll teach you how to calculate the area of a circle first."

Through the sacred school uniform, B directly grabbed his sister's full, round breasts and began to knead them vigorously.

"First, you need to find the center..."

B's strange hand reached inside her shirt, moving intensely, and a pure white bra slowly slid
out from under her uniform.

"Oh~ oh~ oh!"

"Senior, then I'll teach you how to calculate a 'triangle'."

"Senior, you're so bad, I don't want to do it anymore!"

"This part is very important, it will definitely be on the test." B spread his sister's legs and
said in a serious tone, "It's okay if you get zero on the test, right?"


A moment of chaos ensued.


The sister, her clothes disheveled and panting, cried out, "Ah! Senior broke my pencil!"

"Hehehe, it's okay, just use yours!" B lewdly chuckled.

B revealed his thick, terrifying "pencil" and slowly approached his sister.


I was brought back to reality from my fantasy.


B kissed his sister passionately, and she responded enthusiastically, her nasal moans sexy and charming
, completely different from her usual childish self.

A strange curiosity drew me to continue watching the lewd scene before me.

At this moment, as if deliberately putting on a show for me, B picked up his sister's delicate body and faced her towards me.

Three buttons on her uniform were already undone, and her deep cleavage tightly gripped B's fingers. Under his wicked manipulation
, her left round breast gently and skillfully popped out, blooming in the air.

The pale yellow, lace half-cup bra couldn't completely conceal the view of her breasts. At the top of her full
, rounded breasts, between delicate areolas, the pale pink nipples were tender and adorable.

B's large hands roughly kneaded her breasts, his head lowering, his lustful mouth attempting to assault her slightly
erect nipples. Her sister let out a soft moan, immediately turning away, falling shyly onto the bed.

Her flawless, white thighs were completely exposed. Although she was still dressed, most of her alluring
parts were visible to the man. B stroked her plump, smooth thighs while
exploring beneath her skirt.

Her sister bit her lower lip, tightly pressing her skirt down, as if trying to protect the last shred of girlish modesty
. However, her full right breast bounced incessantly with B's fondling, full of obscene meaning.

Her pale yellow panties had already been pulled down to one side, revealing a dangerous situation beneath her skirt.

Honestly, seeing this almost made my nose bleed.

Seeing my sister's live stream was just as stimulating as humiliating my girlfriend. The inner conflict
and struggle I felt were indescribable.

(If I had just seen my sister simply masturbating, I probably wouldn't have felt so guilty; it would
have been more erotic, I suppose.)


At this point, I want to pose a hypothetical question:

As a sexually aroused young man, suppose I'm enthusiastically relieving myself in my room, and suddenly
my mother bursts in and stumbles upon the scene. What should we do?

Apologize?

Apologize for the sexual urges of adolescence?

Then 99% of men in the world should be shot! I sincerely offer my
30 minutes of silence for the rest of my compatriots.

Feel guilty?

Should I tearfully choke out, "I made a mistake that every man in the world makes, I'll never do it
again !"

Never again?

Believe me, I'll do it again in ten minutes!

Frankly, I think the person who put everyone in this predicament is the real culprit!

A "polite" mother should pretend she's looking for her contact lenses, ideally with her eyes pressed
against the floor, or pretend she completely forgot them, then stumble out of the room,
adding, "Mom didn't see anything, sweet son, keep going."

That's what social justice and ethical norms apply.


What?

You say your mother isn't nearsighted, her eyesight is superb.

And you're currently "launching a rocket"!


Uh...uh...what does that have to do with me?

If, due to your ejaculation, and by some unfortunate coincidence, fertilization unfortunately occurs inside her
, please call me then. Although, in that situation, I'd suggest you call a gynecologist.

Anyway, my mom wears contact lenses, and most importantly, I'm not that stupid.

In short, the point isn't this silly assumption, but the tacit understanding between us, or what should be
called "national etiquette."

For example, if I hear strange noises from my roommate's room while watching TV late at night, I silently
turn up the TV volume a few notches and wait for things to calm down.

I believe this is a very necessary and important common sense in interpersonal relationships.

But I digress, let's return to the doorway of my sister's room.

According to my theory, applying the above formula to this situation, not only should I not disturb their enjoyment
, but I should probably light candles, put out flowers to create an atmosphere, and even buy a bottle of champagne to help them
have fun.


Wrong!

Because the above theory applies to men.


No…no, I am absolutely not a chauvinist who supports gender inequality.

In many ways, I am very certain of women's selfless contributions to society, such as gravure idols and AV actresses,
which are outstanding contributions that men cannot replace.

What I insist on is not that superfluous layer of plastic wrap, or insisting that women should adopt a sacred
attitude towards sex. (If that were the case, wouldn't I, as a man, have no chance?)

The reason is simple, based on differences in physiological structure.

First, women with weaker physical strength are more likely to be coerced, that is, sexual harassment, sexual assault.

Although I may appear extremely lewd and depraved on the surface, in fact, I deeply abhor such despicable behavior
. I meticulously studied the lewd scenes often depicted in Japanese films, such as gang rape and perverted men on trains, even with tears in my eyes
, hoping to find ways for women to resist and to encourage men's unyielding spirit.

Secondly, women have concerns about pregnancy. (You wouldn't believe how serious I am, would you?)

This point needs no further explanation.

Applying these two points to the current situation, based on my observation, although the former
issue doesn't exist between the two... (Hmph... the younger sister looks really wanton...)

Judging from the second point, the impatient attitude of the young man in the room doesn't seem like he's using protection.

Therefore, as both a male sibling and an older brother, I felt it necessary to step in to uphold justice and maintain
order. However, my sister is very sensitive; she used to make a huge fuss over the smallest things. This kind of
stimulation might drive a young girl to suicide or even murder to cover it up.

In an instant, a detailed plan formed in my mind.

Silently, I picked up my backpack, put on my shoes, and went back to the front door. Taking a long breath, I slowly
pressed the doorbell.

A series of sounds came from inside: the clanging of metal, the thud of someone falling, mixed with a man's screams and cries.

Ten minutes later, the door slowly opened.

My sister tried her best to remain calm, but her round face was as red as the sun. Her usually neat and tidy short hair
was disheveled, her face powder had faded with sweat, and only a corner of her glossy lipstick remained.
Her uniform neckline was still wide open, her voluptuous breasts swaying before me. One side of her pale yellow bra wasn't properly adjusted, and
glimpses of her breasts appeared and disappeared with her rapid breathing.

A sweet, wonderful fragrance filled the air, like the aroma of freshly ripened fruit.

In this close proximity, everything felt even more real. For the first time since her birth, I
strongly felt my sister's female identity.

"Brother, it's you," my sister said softly, her eyes sparkling. "Why did you ring the doorbell?"

Her voice was sweet, soft, and feminine, quite different from her usual domineering self.

"I forgot my keys in the dorm," I said, taking off my sneakers and tossing my backpack onto the sofa.
"You don't have school this afternoon?" I asked casually.

"Yeah, I have midterms today."

"Then why did it take you so long to open the door?"

I walked to the refrigerator and grabbed a can of ice-cold Fanta.

"Uh... I was in my room... I didn't hear it... I was listening to music..."

My sister stammered, completely unlike her usual quick-witted and arrogant self, which made me secretly chuckle.
Of course, on the surface, I pretended to be cool and serious, like Kogoro Mouri solving a case with an air of nonchalance.

B-kun came out of my sister's room, looking embarrassed and utterly exhausted, his pants zipper still
a little undone.

He was about 170cm tall, wearing thick-rimmed black glasses, with an ordinary appearance, and seemed slightly smarter than me
.

"Little B-kun, I'm going home now," B-kun said softly. "...Big brother...bye-bye."

I glanced at B-kun out of the corner of my eye, then said with a forced smile, "You can go home now, no,
I mean come back to play sometime." You


little bastard!

Next time you come to my house to play with my sister, see how I deal with you!


B-kun left dejectedly.

My sister glared at me and yelled, "Why were you so mean to him! You scared the senior away!"


Wow! Who was being meaner here?

I tried my best to be polite, and you still have the nerve to blame me? You're such a shameless brat!
"


Bang!"

My sister ran back to her room and slammed the door shut.

I could almost hear faint sobbing coming from behind the pillow…



*** *** *** ***



Actually, my sister isn't bad-looking .

She's not a stunning beauty, nor a sexy bombshell, but honestly, she's
a cute little beauty.

Her bright, manga-like eyes, delicate nose, and thin, rosy lips are all
high-standard. Although her chubby face, slightly plump arms, thighs, and belly aren't
perfect

, my imperfect sister has her own fatal weapon.

My sister's breasts are like super-sized magnolia missiles; I think I wouldn't even need to use Invincible Iron Man to
take care of Two-Face. From size and shape to firmness and volume, they surpass not only girls her age but
even Japanese gravure idols. Add to that her youthful, radiant skin, innocent and pure expression, and charmingly
naive smile—she's probably some men's dream girl.

(Disclaimer: I've always preferred glamorous mature women and am definitely not the type to have a sister complex.)

In my memory, my forever little sister has secretly grown up. This afternoon's encounter might reappear before me
—no, it might be even hotter and more exciting (for example, whips, handcuffs, etc.). I don't want to, but I can't
help associating my sister with sex.

Please don't misunderstand; I have no ulterior motives or actions. On the contrary, in terms of my sister's sexual awakening
, I should be considered the submissive one.

Years ago, my sister secretly looked through my "treasured books" to understand the mysteries of the human body.


How did I find out?


It's very simple.

Normally, I just toss my pornographic books around after reading them (the same goes for toilet paper). But that day, when I got home,
all the pornographic books were neatly arranged, covers facing up and spines pointing south. The "strange stuck-page incidents
" that had occurred in several of them were carefully uncovered.

(I'd really like to ask my sister about this.)

At the time, I didn't confront her or ask her to split the cost of the books. I hoped she hadn't cracked
my computer's password and seen the pornographic content I had collected.

For example, "Brother's Computer ~ Virus," "Me and My Sister, Rainy Words," etc.

The previous description: A young sister, just beginning to experience romantic feelings, secretly uses her brother's computer but accidentally gets a virus,
destroying his papers and assignments (and his collection on the hard drive). Enraged, the brother takes gruesome
revenge on his sister.

The content is exciting and stimulating, perfect for venting anger after a recent argument with your sister.

"My Sister and I, Yuwen" is a touching and tear-jerking
story full of sincere emotions. It tells the story of a lewd sister who seduces her brother, while the upright brother remains steadfast and righteous to the death. The story
follows the sister's endless evil tricks, and although the brother's body eventually succumbs, he always maintains his spiritual purity.

After reading it, I felt a deep connection and resonance.

I truly didn't want those lewd and obscene articles to taint the pure brother-sister relationship. Please believe me, I only admire
the writing style; I have absolutely no perverted interest in any ambiguous behavior between siblings.

However, from today onwards, the adjectives "innocent and naive" should also come to an end for my sister.

I noticed that today my sister wasn't wearing her favorite pink Hello Kitty,
but rather rather sexy lingerie, at least for someone of her age.

I swear on my honor as Detective Conan, my sister is, in some way, already prepared to embrace a brand new life
(of course, she might not have just warmed up, she might have already secretly "completed" it...).

Putting aside my sadness, I found myself standing at my sister's door.

Although my feelings were very complicated, I still had some things I wanted to tell my sister. Whether as her brother
or as a man, I hoped she would cherish and protect her body and be a good woman.

I gently knocked on the door, went in, closed it, and locked it.

Normally, if I entered her room without her verbal permission, I'd get a severe scolding, maybe even some
serious punishment. My fierce sister practically hangs a sign on the door: "Dogs and brothers not allowed!"

But tonight, she was quiet, just silently gazing at me without uttering a word. She didn't
speak, and neither did I; we just sat quietly to the side.

Honestly, I quite enjoy going into her room.

Compared to the messy, moldy rooms of my female classmates at school, her pink-themed room was not only neatly arranged and
clean, but it always had a faint, milky fragrance.

I guess that's what "still wet behind the ears" means.

Finally, on the third time our eyes met, I stammered, "There's something I want to
discuss with you."

"...What is it?"


Sigh, it's really hard for a man to bring up these things.


Wiping the sweat from my brow, I whispered, "It's...about...sex education..."


Finally, I said it!


The relief was like the sudden release after holding in your pee for hours. But I hadn't
finished peeing, and I hadn't even finished saying what I wanted to say…

“Pervert!”

A high-pitched scream followed, and the pink Chitty pillow hit me squarely in the face.

“Crack!” My glasses fell out with a crisp sound.


Damn it!

When a brother who's always so irresponsible tries to have a serious talk about an important life issue for the first time, is this
how a sister should act?

One day she'll be dumped by a man, a pregnant woman no one wants, and then she'll tearfully beg me, her
older brother, to go with her to get an abortion. I absolutely won't listen to her!


“Brother is a pervert!”

Her little face turned completely red, and my sister picked up the pillow and excitedly threw it at my head again.

Actually, besides my “abnormal” behavior, my sister's “slight” out-of-control reaction was probably because she was smart enough
to guess that I had witnessed what happened that afternoon. She was using anger to cover up her shame, and naturally, she was furious.
As her mature and rational older brother, I was too embarrassed to retaliate.

I didn't stop her, just stood there letting her vent; after all, the pillow hits didn't hurt much. She

probably used too much force, because suddenly, my sister lost her balance and fell towards me. I quickly
caught her, and we both crashed into each other.

A sharp pain shot through the back of my head, and I barely opened my eyes. Strands of hair fluttered in front of me, and my sister was lying face-to-face with me
. Although my head was still fuzzy, I could feel a strong heat on my body…

Two soft mounds of flesh pressed tightly against my chest, their amazing elasticity and softness fully displayed. Apart from a thin
shirt, her chest was completely unprotected.

My sister wasn't wearing a bra!

My voluptuous sister must particularly dislike the constraints on her chest and wanted to relax a little at home. But,
in my opinion, what's more tragic than flat-chested is sagging breasts. If you don't properly support and maintain them,
they'll definitely sag like the sun's zenith in the future, and then you'll regret it.

Of course, I wasn't thinking that far into the future then, not even about what would happen ten minutes later. My
legs were intertwined with my sister's, her soft cheek brushed against my chin, her moist lips lightly touched my neck, and her faint
fragrance wafted into my nostrils, as if I were in a dream.

My sister groaned, gradually coming back to her senses. She turned her face up, pouted her lips, and was about to speak when she
realized something was amiss…

Male instinct was rubbing against my sister's warm thighs and buttocks, and her pretty face instantly turned red.

It wasn't the first time I'd unintentionally seen or touched my sister's alluring body, and my lower body would become aroused. But
I had never harbored any fantasies about my sister; it was purely a reaction from my involuntary muscles,
like bedwetting—uncontrollable.

But the feeling I was experiencing now was something I had never felt before.

Strange, intense, and impure thoughts filled my mind, and as the contact area expanded and time prolonged
, the burning heat intensified, increasing the concentration between us. The violent chemical reaction made everything unstable
and uncertain, as if it could explode at any moment.

"Get up quickly, you're hurting me!"

I awkwardly moved my body, and due to the angle at which we were lying down, a thumb-sized, very clear
hickey came into view. The image etched in my mind resurfaced, and an inexplicable emotion ignited the fuse. My
feelings were indescribable, and my thick lips suddenly covered my sister's cherry lips, kissing her wildly and passionately.

Following the perfect shape of her lips, I slowly parted her two beautiful lips.

My sister must have been stunned by my sudden attack; our tongues were intertwined before she seemed to
wake up and tried to push me away.

Of course, no matter how strong my sister was, she was no match for me, the sunny boy who played basketball morning and night.

Perhaps afraid of biting me, my sister's little mouth wasn't very tight. I easily pried open her teeth, and my tongue
plunged in, wreaking havoc in her mouth.

My sister smelled wonderful, her lips were incredibly soft, even her saliva tasted sweet—better than
any .

"Mmm...mmm,"

she murmured incoherently, her body softening against mine. I
pried her small hands away with one hand, our upper bodies pressed together, and with the other arm around her waist, I pulled
her onto the bed, laying her flat on her back.

The pressure of my chest made her breasts, especially her prominent nipples, incredibly alluring. In
the space where our chests were almost touching, her full breasts, with their incredible softness, swayed and changed shape,
a massive energy equivalent to a mass transfer impacting my chest, making my heart stop for a moment.

As if I hadn't eaten enough for dinner, I pressed my lips to her neck, gently biting and greedily sucking
on her delicate cheek.

Although my sister had good motor skills, she was very ticklish.

I gently licked her earlobe and blew air into her ear, my tongue sliding down her sensitive neck, my fingers lightly teasing
the crevice between her armpits.

Although she immediately tightened her arms, my fingers had already slipped inside, enveloping her warm, delicate
area, my fingertips casually playing with her. She moaned pitifully, her trembling body unsure whether to loosen her grip or
continue clenching.

I continued my attack on her greatest weakness—her sides.

"It tickles, no…it tickles…"

she writhed violently in my arms, letting out soft, tearful laughter.


Hmph! Does B know this kind of "technique"?

Your brother knows everything about you, doesn't he?


Whether she wanted it or not, as I licked the soles of her feet and between her toes, she finally yielded and begged for mercy.

"Brother, I won't do it again, please forgive me."

"I'm sorry, please forgive me..."

Whenever my sister started begging for mercy, I would hold back a little, replacing it with gentle caresses like a lover
. Compared to the tickling she hated most, my sister naturally turned to the other. The conversation and
actions that didn't fit our sibling relationship continued, and the sensual pleasure gradually conquered my sensitive sister. She began to enthusiastically respond to my caresses
.

"Piggy, is it comfortable, brother?"

"Piggy" was a nickname I deliberately gave my sister when she was a little plump, to annoy her.

Every time I called her that, my sister would get angry and even ignore me. However, seeing her cute pouty
face, I would feel a strange sense of excitement.

However, since the second year of junior high school, on the one hand, my sister was trying to lose weight and might break her
vow not to kill me because of this nickname. On the other hand, the differences between boys and girls had distanced us. I had no right and had lost the courage to
call her that anymore.

This nickname, which I thought I had long forgotten, came out of my mouth very naturally.

My sister, her eyes half-open, her mouth slightly parted, shook her head weakly.

I smiled slightly and slowly unbuttoned a few buttons on her shirt.

Even lying flat, her remarkably natural breasts remained high and firm, like towering mountains. My tongue
licked lollipops, which wouldn't melt and were gradually hardening. The tempting sweetness spread in my mouth, and the tender nipples
swirled on my tongue. I sucked on the cherry-colored nipples like a hungry baby.

Complete bite marks were imprinted on her snow-white breasts, symmetrical on both sides. I actively searched for my next target.

I wanted to leave a mark on my sister's body too!

The pink pearls, which were originally only the size of beans, swelled several times their original size. Holding the breasts that I couldn't grasp, the smooth
flesh jumped out from between my fingers, and my movements slowly became rougher.

"Piggy, stick out your tongue."

After some hesitation, my sister slowly stuck out a small section of her pink tongue. Tongue to tongue, I gently sipped
the delicious juice that was a mixture of our saliva. My hands and my mouth enjoyed double the pleasure at the same time.

Tears welled in my sister's eyes. She kept them tightly shut, biting her lower lip, as if trying to escape reality. In
fact, her body was convulsing violently from her brother's caresses, and her lewd moans never ceased.

Seeing a single tear slowly slide down her cheek, a pang of pity rose in my heart. However, the devil in my heart
whispered incessantly in my ear:

From childhood to adulthood, I've seen, touched, and even bitten her. Just because she's "swollen" today, does that mean I have to bear
the guilt of incest?

After several rounds of caresses, my sister was almost breathless. I withdrew my hands, letting her catch her breath.

My sister gently shook her head, using her small hands to cover her ample breasts, which were impossible to conceal. Taking advantage of the moment she was protecting her breasts
, my gaze shifted to her lower body, and I pulled down her trousers in one swift motion. Ivory-white silk panties
were damp and glistening, the full, lovely shape of her lips reflected at the tip of the triangle.

A dryness gripped my throat; I swallowed and licked my parched lips.

At that moment, I faced a crucial life choice.

It wasn't the lingering emptiness and loneliness after the breakup, nor was it a sensual urge towards a sexy body
. Part of it stemmed from a primal curiosity about my sister's body. The comfort I felt as a child,
a comfort that radiated both my mind and body from touching her, was suddenly rekindled, unconsciously drawing me into a blurry, indistinct
state. On the other hand, though I didn't want to admit it, the thought of my precious treasure being
manipulated by someone else filled me with a sense of loss and jealousy that overwhelmed me.

But any explanation or excuse was meaningless in the face of reality.

Especially since my sister was being harmed by her most trusted (?!) relative, it would surely cause her a mental breakdown, leading to her running away from home or
committing suicide, or perhaps even planting the seeds of a fear of men, turning her into a lesbian.

I shook my head vigorously, trying to awaken the reason buried beneath my sister's allure. The time I spent with her
flashed before my eyes like a revolving lantern. Finally, I made my decision.

Watching my trembling hands, I regained my composure—and slowly pulled down my sister's panties.


I forgot—I've never been a very rational person!


With the last barrier removed, several transparent silver threads, dark as ink, emerged from my sister's mysterious valley.
Lush pubic hair surrounded the mound; my little sister was fully mature.

I didn't use brute force to part her legs; my tongue gently licked from her knees down to the fertile valley of her vulva.
Sweat seeped from her fair skin, leaving a vibrant red stain wherever I licked.

"Ah!"

My sister finally succumbed…

The door to a beautiful dream opened with my patient caresses. Her defenses crumbled, her closed
legs trembled, and endless sweetness gushed from her thighs.

I lifted her waist, letting her mysterious triangle unfold before me. The delicate texture and folds were
like a work of art; the small opening was slightly parted, and a rush of heat and moisture blurred my vision. I parted the pubic hair and
touched her full, rounded lips.

The melting sensation was tender and full of life; the shy, pink flesh seemed to writhe like a living thing. I
probed the most sensitive clitoris deep inside, and instantly, a large amount of thick, sticky vaginal fluid gushed out like a fountain. Licking my sister's
sweet secretions, this was a different kind of taste compared to her fragrant saliva.

"Don't lick there, it's dirty..."

My sister was like a shrimp in a hot pan, her fair skin turning red, her body arching so much it almost broke.

"No, it's beautiful, your body is very pretty." I gently patted my sister's soft, white
buttocks and said, "Brother is going in..."

"No...no..."

Continuing her unconscious cries, having experienced a small orgasm on her clitoris, my sister was in a slightly dazed
state.

My hot glans pressed against her full labia, the hard tip already slightly inside. I was like a fully drawn
bow, ready to fire.

"Piggy...brother...brother...loves you..." I whispered in my sister's ear.

"Brother, please be gentle..."

My sister uttered the forbidden incantation, and my erect penis became even more ferocious, forcefully thrusting into her wet, sweet
hole. The warm, moist walls of her flesh embraced me, each friction producing a wondrous pleasure.

However, unexpectedly, besides the highly frictional flower path, there was a thin membrane blocking my way.

—My sister was indeed still a virgin.

I didn't know whether to be happy or ashamed.

"Ah~ Ah~ Ah!" Tears streamed down my sister's face as my penis broke through the symbol of virginity, continuing its advance. A wet patch overflowed

from our point of contact , carrying a strong, bloody smell.   I dared not look, only silently and slowly thrusting.   My sister's expression was filled with pain and struggle, showing no sign of pleasure from intercourse. Yet, her narrow passage gripped my invading glans, like when she was a clingy child, always clinging to me.   Back then, I only felt annoyed, especially when playing with a group of boys, but now, I held my sister tightly, enjoying the sweet taste of our union.   Gradually, my sister's cries subsided, replaced by rhythmic breathing and sweeter moans that filled the room . I changed positions, lifting her up and letting her straddle me, face to face, sitting on me.   She seemed embarrassed by this position, turning her face away, unwilling to face me.   I kissed away her salty tears, feeling her rapid heartbeat, and thrust my hot penis deep inside. My sister, exhausted, immediately collapsed onto me, her arms wrapped around my neck, leaning against my strong chest . Almost all her weight was on our joined penises, waves of intense pleasure washing over me .   "Piggy, you should move too."   "Mmm...mmm."   My sister lowered her head, her breasts bouncing, her shy little bottom sinking down. In that instant, my erect penis felt like it was being forged in flames, a powerful current coursing through us.   Our body temperatures rose steadily, and my sister's stiff body became slippery, reacting intensely to my sudden stimulation . The room was filled with an obscene fragrance.   "Pfft~ Pfft!" The lewd sounds were like a symphony, as I lavishly and brilliantly played out my sister's flawless body.   "Brother, it feels so good, I'm going to die!"   My sister's body began to spin and twist wildly, her lewd waist swaying like a dance. The intense friction and stimulation brought me to my peak. Neither my sister nor I cared whether our cries were too loud or exceeded the room's soundproofing.   Completely immersed in a state of ecstasy, enjoying the ultimate pleasure, although I sincerely hoped this moment would last forever, my overworked penis didn't think so.   Deep inside her, my penis began to tremble irregularly. I think even my sister knew what was about to happen .   My sister cried out in a panic, "No...you can't...shoot...inside..."   Lost in the pleasure, I only had a few seconds to react. I gritted my teeth, trying to control the urge, but my sister's tearful reaction only intensified the stimulation.   Before, I envied the male porn star's job; now, I finally understood how arduous the task was to try and pull my almost-ejaculated penis out of her warm, wet vagina…   Two small acts of gentleness I once upheld towards girls had been completely broken within just one hour .   I surrendered.   Thick, milky-white semen gushed out, countless seeds penetrating my sister's body. In fact, her vagina was rapidly contracting, squeezing my penis like a pump until it withered and dried up, yet I couldn't help but ejaculate the last drop, as if shooting in my blood.   Finally, I left an indelible mark on my beloved sister; I truly possessed her.   I'm sorry.   My brother is not only an idiot, but also a pervert, a lecher, a sex fiend, a scoundrel...     *** *** *** ***    "Get up, you lazybones! How long do you want to sleep? It's time to eat."
















































































My sister's shout brought me back to reality, and I gradually awoke from my hazy dream.

My sister's playful expression, adorned with a childlike, radiant smile, was no longer the shy, satisfied, tear-streaked
little woman I had been moments before. I wasn't in my sister's secret garden, but lying in my own garbage-filled room.

"Brother, your socks are so dirty, how dare you wear them to bed?"

My sister pushed me away forcefully, pulling at the blanket.

As soon as the blanket was thrown back, the air was immediately filled with the strong scent of chestnut blossoms.

A hard object bulged high in my boxer shorts, especially the top of the tent, which was sticky and
stained the gray crotch a deep black. If you looked closely, you could see the erupting lava spreading outwards.

—My Buddhist name is "Wet Dream."


Are you kidding me? As a debauched college student who always only worries about running out of ammunition, I've completely shattered my manly dignity


like a clumsy middle school student .   While I was still temporarily experiencing a memory shortage and program freeze due to the harsh reality, I saw my sister, pinching her nose, calmly take off the socks I'd been pickling for days.   It was as if nothing had happened.   "Hurry up and get out here, the food's getting cold, I'm starving, I'm not waiting for you!" Before leaving, my sister, her cheeks flushed an unnatural red, secretly glanced at my lower body out of the corner of her eye and said fiercely.   I nodded, a bitter smile on my face.   No wonder she's a model student, all my subtle influence has paid off; she really is my lovely, smart , and "polite" little sister. Everything that happened today will forever remain a cherished little secret between my sister and me, like countless memories.   "Be careful not to get fatter,"   I muttered to myself, watching my sister's retreating figure.

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