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My sister and I's sex 

From the moment I realized what a sexy little vixen my sister was, I fell hopelessly in love with her.

The fantasy of having sex with her constantly occupied my mind, preventing me from thinking about anything else.

My sister possessed an alluring female body and a gentle, kind personality (even though at that time I was only interested in her body).

Strangely, my desire for her was considered abnormal. Although any lustful man in the world would fight tooth and nail for the chance to sleep with his sister, I was the only one who was forbidden from even thinking about it.

I remember one summer, we attended a cousin's wedding tea party.

My sister wore a beautiful blue dress and sat properly in a chair, watching the wedding ceremony unfold, while I sat behind her.

I think that chair must have been uncomfortable for her, because she kept leaning forward, trying to find a more comfortable position.

However, because of her bending over, the blue dress that had originally fit perfectly loosened from the shoulders down, opening slightly in the front. From my angle, I could just glimpse what was underneath.

I saw that my younger sister's bra had shifted slightly, revealing her shapely breasts.

In the dim light, the delicate curves of the girl's bare breasts were reflected on my retina; even more striking, I saw a delicate, juicy little red flower blooming at the top of the bra.

This red flower wasn't lying flat on her breast, but proudly protruding, forming an alluring focal point on the bra cup.

I stood there, drooling over this red flower, imagining myself putting it in my mouth and sucking its juice.

Unfortunately, my mother noticed my younger sister's discomfort and told her to go inside and rest to recover.

My younger sister got up, straightened her clothes, much to my disappointment. She gracefully entered the house, leaving behind her brother, his penis erect, endlessly replaying the scene in his mind, trying to imprint the perfect lines of her breasts into his memory.

I couldn't tell her about my feelings.

Not just because of traditional morality, but also because our parents were very conservative and devout believers, thinking sex itself was evil, and they passed this belief on to us, raising my sister and me in such an environment.

Of course, these rules meant nothing to me, but my sister was different. She was a good girl, only respecting me as a brother, without any other thoughts.

Compared to my desires, I truly loved my sister, so I kept my incestuous desires to myself, not daring to let this pure girl who respected me from the bottom of her heart know.

I didn't know what my sister thought of my filthy thoughts, nor did I dare to know, so I wouldn't destroy our current intimate relationship for a pointless test.

Four years later, my sister and some classmates were in a car accident on their way home from school.

The sudden, powerful impact threw her forward, slamming her against the windshield. Thanks to the seatbelt, she wasn't

thrown out of the car, but the collision with the glass plunged her into a deep coma, from which she remained unconscious.

The doctors told us that her condition was very bad, and she might die; they said that even if she woke up, her brain would suffer significant damage.

I was deeply shocked.

At that moment, I suddenly realized how deeply I loved her, and that this feeling was definitely not just lust.

My parents and I often visited her.

During each visit, I constantly clarified my feelings, and regretted not telling her about my love before the accident.

One fateful night, I ended my usual one-sided conversation and wanted to leave, only to find that visiting hours had long passed.

I guessed the nurse must have assumed I had already left with my parents, so she didn't bother to check.

I sat at the head of my younger sister's bed, gazing at her face, pale as fresh snow, so peaceful, as if in a deep sleep. Then, my gaze was drawn to a pair of firm, erect breasts beneath the sheets.


I looked back at the sheets, my eyes following the rise and fall of her chest with each breath, staring intently for a long, long time.

When my senses returned, I didn't realize what I had just been thinking. I simply walked slowly to the edge of the bed, unbuttoned the blouse around my sister's neck, and freed those smooth, fragrant breasts from my memory.

I bent down and took her bright red nipples into my mouth, gently sucking, just as I had dreamt of them over the years.

The emotions of love and physical desires overwhelmed my reason (but mostly physical desires).

I knew it was wrong, but I also understood that this would be the only chance I could freely enjoy my sister's body.

I quickly pulled off my pants, climbed onto the bed, and parted my sister's smooth, plump legs.

Kneeling between her legs, I held my rock-hard penis in my hand, the glans pressing against the entrance to my dear sister's honey pot.

My little sister's vagina was so dry, but after rubbing my penis up and down at the entrance for a few minutes, it started to get wet. I smeared some saliva on the glans and was finally able to slowly push my penis in.

After a few inches in, I silently lay on top of my little sister, savoring the sweet touch of her honeyed vagina. A few minutes later, I began to thrust my penis in and out of her.

I knew this was a morbid and pathetic act.

Everyone says that having sex with an unconscious female corpse is utterly unpleasant, but I must say, this was the most wonderful sexual experience I had ever had.

As I ejaculated, I had a thought: I didn't want this to be the only time. Perhaps I could think of a proper way to continue using my little sister's body.

My final idea was to disguise myself.

I used my time to learn how to dress, bought some clothes to suit my purpose, got a pair of fake breasts, and signed up to volunteer at the hospital where my little sister was staying.

I figured out the hospital rules and would sneak into my younger sister's room when no one was around, indulging in my pleasure with her body.

Three times a week, as soon as the bell rang after class, I would rush back to my apartment, put on women's clothes, and go to the hospital.

I wondered what my parents' expressions would be if they found me dressed as a woman, volunteering as a medical worker.

In fact, I thought they would probably assume I was a lesbian or a cross-dresser, but they would never imagine that I would use this disguise to commit incest with my own sister.

Six months passed quickly. My younger sister was still in a coma, my parents were constantly praying, and everyone was worried. Only I found true happiness.

I kept having sex with the person I loved, and as I was about to graduate, I also found a very good job.

In the past, I hadn't paid much attention to my family's financial situation, but now I finally realized that my parents were constantly spending large sums of money on my younger sister's medical expenses, and our family's finances were on the verge of collapse. Our insurance didn't cover hospital care, which made our future even more precarious.

I tried my best to improve the situation. First, I took on several part-time jobs and quit my volunteer work at the hospital.

Of course, I still visited patients, but I no longer dressed in women's clothing and no longer secretly slept with young girls.

I even tried fundraising online, but only received ridicule.

A month later, we received a call from my sister's hospital.

The doctor called us over and told us some surprising facts.

My sister had woken up from her coma, which excited my parents and me, but the doctor's expression was very strange.

The doctor cleared his throat to remind us of his presence, then lowered his voice and told us something odd: my sister was four months pregnant.

Thinking back to that moment, I don't know how to describe my parents' expressions; in fact, I also doubted what my own expression was at that moment.

Deep down, I may have thought about the consequences of using my sister's body so recklessly, but every time my penis entered her vagina, I always put those consequences out of my mind.

In any case, the outcome was unexpectedly in our favor.

To avoid going to court and a lawsuit we were sure to lose, the hospital decided to waive all of my sister's medical expenses and gave her a considerable sum of compensation.

My sister woke up, but, as the doctor had predicted, she had suffered some brain damage. It's not that she's become an idiot or anything; my little sister has simply lost many of her past memories. Her reactions aren't as sharp as

before, and sometimes she just stares blankly and giggles. She's no longer the vibrant, sexy, and radiant young woman she once was; now, she's just an ordinary girl. However, in my eyes, she's still incredibly sexy and charming, and retains the same gentle personality she had when she was little. My

parents don't care about this at all; they're just ashamed of their daughter's unusual pregnancy and keep her locked in her room all day, not allowing her to see anyone.

I was unhappy about this and suggested that my little sister move with me to the city where I now live.

My parents were overjoyed and immediately helped her pack her bags.

A few months later, my little sister gave birth to our child in the city, and my brother and I raised the child together.

I found an opportunity to tell my little sister all the love I had in my heart.

After I finished, I held her hand and told her that I wanted to live with her like husband and wife; and she agreed with a silly smile.

Overjoyed, I immediately pushed her down onto the sofa, pulled out my penis, spread her legs, and thrust my shaft into her long-missed honey pot.

My younger sister writhed beneath me, moaning repeatedly.

We made love four times in two hours. My own sister's body still attracted me so much, making me as restless and impatient as a boy in his first love.

The year after my younger sister gave birth, my parents, who rarely visited, were deeply shocked by what they saw.

They simply couldn't believe such a thing had happened.

I didn't admit anything, but I think my parents knew very well that I was the only candidate to bear the child in my younger sister's second pregnancy.

From then on, we became estranged, but my parents didn't make a fuss. For them, reputation was more important than anything else in life, and they absolutely couldn't let their relatives and friends in the countryside know that their children were now engaged in incestuous cohabitation and had even conceived a child together.

Later, when they found out that my younger sister was pregnant for the third time, we officially severed our parent-child relationship. Neither of us ever mentioned it to the other, but it didn't matter anymore. My younger sister and I had our own family and were enjoying a warm home life with our children.






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