Sister's Roommate Rules

I woke up that first morning in the apartment with a raging hard-on and the sound of the shower already running. Jessie’s door was open. I could see the edge of her unmade bed, sheets twisted, the faint scent of her perfume still hanging in the air from the night before. My sister. Three years older, same parents, same blood, and the hottest fucking woman I had ever seen in my life.

I had moved in the day before. Parents paid for everything. Meghan had moved out to live with her boyfriend, and Jessie needed a roommate. I was starting college. Perfect timing. Perfect torture.

She came out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel that barely covered the tops of her thighs. Water still dripped down the valley between her tits. She smiled at me like it was the most normal thing in the world.

“Morning, Sport. Coffee’s on if you want some.”

I grunted something that sounded like agreement and tried not to stare as the towel slipped a fraction lower when she reached for a mug. Her ass was round and firm and perfect. I had jerked off to the memory of that ass a hundred times already and I hadn’t even lived here a full day.

By the end of the first week the towel was gone.

Jessie walked around the apartment naked like it was nothing. Morning coffee, naked. Studying on the couch, naked. Cooking dinner, naked except for an apron that only covered the front. Her pussy was completely bare, smooth and pink, the outer lips puffy and soft. Her tits were full and heavy, nipples the color of dark roses that stiffened in the cool air of the apartment. She never seemed to notice the tent in my shorts. Or maybe she did and just didn’t care.

“What happens in this apartment stays in this apartment,” she had told me the first night. “I’m not changing how I live just because my little brother is here. If I want to bring someone home, I will. If I want to walk around in my nothingness, I will.”

I nodded like a good little brother. Inside I was already ruined.

Friday nights she went out. Short dresses, no bra, thong panties that disappeared between her cheeks. She would ask me if her nipples showed through the fabric. I would stare and tell her no while my cock leaked pre-cum into my boxers. Then she would leave and come back hours later with some random guy, laughing and stumbling and shedding clothes on the way to her bedroom. The walls were thin. I heard everything.

“Fuck me harder… yes, just like that… deeper… oh god, right there… I’m going to cum all over your cock…”

I would lie in the dark with my fist wrapped around my dick, timing my strokes to her moans, shooting thick ropes across my stomach the moment she cried out. Sometimes I left my door cracked so I could hear better. Pathetic. Obsessed. Completely in love with my own sister in the wrongest way possible.

It went on like that for weeks. Weekdays were almost normal. We cooked together. We talked about classes. She helped me with a paper once while sitting cross-legged on the couch completely naked, her bare pussy on full display. I could see the faint sheen of moisture between her lips. I pretended to focus on the laptop. My cock was so hard it hurt.

Then came the night everything changed.

She brought home a tall guy with a loud laugh. They were both wasted. I heard the front door, the giggles, the sound of clothes hitting the floor. Then raised voices. The guy stormed out, calling her a pathetic slut on his way. The door slammed. Silence. Then soft crying from her room.

I got out of bed naked, cock half-hard from listening, and pushed her door open. She was face-down on the bed, naked, shoulders shaking. Clothes everywhere. The smell of sex and alcohol and her perfume mixed together.

“Jess?”

“Just leave me alone, Luke.”

I sat on the edge of the bed and put my hand on her back. Her skin was hot. She turned and pulled me down, burying her face against my neck. “Just hold me.”

I held her. I stroked her hair. I told her she wasn’t pathetic. Eventually the crying stopped and her breathing evened out. We fell asleep like that, my arm around her waist, her bare ass pressed back against my cock.

I woke up with the head of my dick nestled between the soft cheeks of her ass. Morning wood, thick and leaking. Her hand was already wrapped around the shaft, stroking slow and lazy. She made a soft sound in her throat, lifted her top leg, and guided me lower. The slick heat of her pussy kissed the tip. She pushed back and I slid inside in one long, smooth thrust.

Hot. Wet. Tight. Perfect. My sister’s cunt swallowed every inch of me.

I froze for half a second, then instinct took over. I gripped her hip and started fucking her. Slow at first, watching my cock disappear between her smooth lips, feeling the way her walls gripped and fluttered. She moaned into the pillow.

“Harder… fuck me harder, baby…”

I gave her harder. I slammed into her, balls slapping against her clit, the wet sounds of her pussy filling the room. She pushed back to meet every thrust. Her tits bounced. I reached around and filled my hands with them, pinching her nipples hard the way I had imagined a thousand times. She cried out and her cunt clenched around me.

“I’m cumming… oh fuck, I’m cumming…”

Her orgasm milked me. I held off somehow, kept pounding through it, chasing the next one. She came again, louder, body shaking. I buried myself to the hilt and unloaded, thick pulses of cum flooding her pussy, overflowing around my cock and dripping down her thighs.

I collapsed against her back, still inside her, breathing hard. Kissed the side of her neck. Whispered her name.

She went rigid.

“Luke?”

She shoved me off so hard I almost fell off the bed. She scrambled up, covering herself with the sheet, eyes wide and horrified.

“What the fuck did you just do?”

“You were holding my cock. You put me inside you. I thought you knew—”

“You’re my fucking brother!”

She ordered me out. Locked the bathroom door. I sat on the couch naked, still wet with her juices, trying to understand how the best moment of my life had turned into a nightmare in three seconds.

She came out later in a robe, face pale. We talked. I told her everything—how long I had wanted her, how I thought she knew it was me, how I would never have touched her if I thought she didn’t. She listened. She cried a little. Then she got quiet.

“You didn’t rape me,” she said finally. “But we still fucked. And it was… good. Better than good. I’ve never come that hard with anyone.”

I stared at her.

She looked at me for a long time. Then she stood up, dropped the robe, and walked over until she was standing between my knees. Her bare pussy was right in front of my face, still a little swollen, a thin trail of my cum visible on her inner thigh.

“We’re already fucked,” she said softly. “Might as well keep going.”

She climbed into my lap, straddled me, and reached down to guide my cock—already hard again—back into her cunt. We both groaned as she sank down.

This time there was no confusion. She rode me slow at first, rolling her hips, looking into my eyes. I sucked her nipples, bit them, left marks. She came on my cock while whispering my name. I flipped her onto her back on the couch and fucked her deep and hard until she was screaming again. When I came the second time I pulled out and painted her tits and belly with thick ropes of cum. She scooped some up with her fingers and licked it clean while staring at me.

That was the start.

We didn’t leave the apartment that entire weekend. We fucked in every room. On the kitchen counter while I ate her out until her thighs shook. In the shower with her bent over and water streaming down her back while I railed her from behind. On the living room floor with her legs over my shoulders. She sucked my cock for the first time that Saturday night, looking up at me with those big eyes while she took me as deep as she could, gagging a little, spit running down her chin. I came down her throat and she swallowed every drop like she was starving for it.

Sunday morning she woke me with her mouth again. Then she climbed on top and rode me until we both came. Afterward we lay tangled together, sweaty and sticky, and she traced circles on my chest.

“This is so wrong,” she whispered.

“I know.”

“I don’t want to stop.”

“Neither do I.”

We didn’t stop.

The following weeks became a blur of classes and secret, filthy sex. She still went out sometimes on Friday nights, but less often, and when she did she came home alone more and more. Most nights she ended up in my bed or I ended up in hers. We got bolder. She started leaving hickeys on my neck that I had to cover with collars. I left fingerprints on her hips and bite marks on her inner thighs.

One night she came home from a party a little drunk and a lot horny. She dragged me into her room, pushed me onto the bed, and straddled my face.

“Eat your sister’s pussy,” she ordered, grinding down. I licked and sucked and fucked her with my tongue until she flooded my mouth. Then she turned around, took my cock between her tits, and fucked them until I came all over her chest and chin. She scooped the cum up and fed it to me, then kissed me deep so we both tasted it.

Another night she told me she wanted it rough. I bent her over the arm of the couch, spanked her ass until it was red, and fucked her hard enough that the couch scraped across the floor. She came so hard she cried. I came so hard my vision went white.

We talked about the risk sometimes. What if someone found out. What if our parents visited. What if one of us got pregnant. She was on the pill, but still. The danger only made it hotter. Every time I came inside her I thought about breeding my own sister and my cock throbbed harder.

One rainy Thursday she walked into my room while I was studying, completely naked, and dropped to her knees between my legs. She pulled my cock out and started sucking without a word. Slow, wet, filthy. She looked up at me while she did it, eyes dark with lust.

“I thought about you all through my lecture,” she said between licks. “Got so wet I had to go to the bathroom and finger myself thinking about your cock stretching me open.”

I pulled her up, bent her over the desk, and fucked her right there with my textbooks scattered on the floor. She came twice before I filled her. We stayed like that for a long time after, me still inside her, her forehead resting on a notebook, both of us breathing hard.

The sex got more inventive. She bought a small vibrator and made me use it on her clit while I fucked her. She liked when I talked dirty—calling her my slutty sister, telling her how good her cunt felt wrapped around her brother’s cock. She started talking back just as filthy.

“Fuck your sister’s tight little pussy… breed me… fill me up… I want to feel your cum dripping out of me all day…”

One Saturday we spent the entire day in bed. Morning oral that turned into me fucking her throat until tears ran down her face. Then slow missionary while we kissed the whole time, almost tender. Then she rode me reverse cowgirl so I could watch my cock disappear into her and see the way her ass bounced. In the afternoon I ate her out from behind while she sucked me, sixty-nine on the bed, both of us messy and loud. That night she asked me to fuck her ass.

I had never done that before. Neither had she, she claimed. I spent a long time with my tongue and fingers, stretching her carefully, using plenty of lube. When I finally pushed the head of my cock past the tight ring she moaned like she was dying. I went slow, inch by inch, until I was buried in her ass. The heat and pressure were insane. I fucked her gently at first, then harder when she started pushing back and begging for more. She came with my cock in her ass and three of my fingers in her pussy. I lasted maybe another minute before I unloaded deep inside her. We both collapsed after, shaking.

After that, anal became regular. She loved the intensity of it. Sometimes she would start the night by asking me to stretch her ass open with my cock while she played with her clit. Other times she wanted it after I had already fucked her pussy raw, using her own juices as lube.

We started sharing more than sex. Real conversations late at night while we lay sweaty and sticky. She told me about the pressure she felt to be the perfect older sister. I told her about the years of wanting her and feeling like a monster for it. We held each other. Sometimes we just slept. Sometimes the talking turned back into touching and the touching turned into another round.

By the end of the semester the apartment felt like our own private world. Outside we were careful—no touching in public, no lingering looks that lasted too long. Inside we were animals. She would text me during class with dirty messages. I would come home to find her already naked on the couch with her legs spread, fingers circling her clit, waiting for me.

One night near finals she made dinner wearing nothing but an apron. After we ate she got on her knees under the table and sucked me while I finished my beer. Then I lifted her onto the table, pushed the plates aside, and ate her until she was shaking and begging. I fucked her right there on the wood, her legs wrapped around me, both of us watching the way my cock disappeared into her.

We came together. Loud. Messy. Perfect.

Afterward she looked at me with something soft in her eyes.

“I love you,” she said. “Not just as my brother. The other way too.”

I kissed her hard. “I’ve loved you that way for years.”

We didn’t talk about the future much. We both knew it couldn’t last forever the way it was. Eventually someone would notice. Eventually we would have to decide what we were willing to risk. But for now, in that apartment, with the door locked and the rest of the world shut out, none of it mattered.

That night she rode me slow and deep, looking into my eyes the entire time. When she came she whispered my name like a prayer. When I came I held her as tight as I could and poured everything I had into her.

We fell asleep still joined, my cock soft inside her, her head on my chest.

In the morning she was already awake, stroking me back to hardness without a word. She smiled when I opened my eyes.

“Again?”

I answered by flipping her onto her back and sliding home.

Outside, the campus was waking up. Classes would start soon. Life would keep moving. But inside our apartment, for as long as we could make it last, my sister and I belonged to each other in every way that counted.

And we used every single one of them.