In the quiet suburbs of Chicago, Emily, a 22-year-old white college student with a lithe, curvaceous figure, confessed her deepest secrets in a hidden diary. Her skin was porcelain smooth, her breasts full and firm with pale pink areolas, her labia plump and tender, and her vagina tight, warm, and inviting. She had always been drawn to forbidden thrills, but nothing compared to her encounters with Marcus, her 25-year-old black stepbrother, an immigrant from Jamaica with a muscular build and an intense gaze.
It started one stormy night when their parents were away. Emily was alone in her room, the rain pattering against the window like forbidden whispers. Marcus entered uninvited, his dark eyes locking onto her as she lay in bed, wearing only a thin nightgown that clung to her curves under the dim lamplight. ‘Emily, I’ve seen how you look at me,’ he murmured, his voice deep and commanding. She protested weakly, her heart racing with a mix of fear and illicit excitement. ‘This is wrong, Marcus. We’re family.’
But he didn’t stop. He approached, his hands gently but firmly pinning her wrists above her head, creating a light restraint that sent shivers down her spine. The visual of his strong, ebony frame contrasting her pale skin was intoxicating. He kissed her neck, his lips warm and insistent, tasting the salty sweetness of her skin. She resisted at first, squirming beneath him, but his touch ignited a fire she couldn’t deny. The air filled with the musky scent of his cologne mixed with her growing arousal.
Foreplay began slowly; Marcus trailed his fingers down her body, tracing the curve of her full breasts, teasing the shallow pink areolas until her nipples hardened like ripe berries. He whispered confessions of his own desires, ‘I’ve wanted this for so long, sis.’ Emily’s breaths came in soft gasps, her body betraying her words. He slid his hand lower, parting her plump labia, feeling the tender folds and the sensitive clit that swelled under his touch. The wet sounds of her arousal echoed softly, mingling with her hesitant moans.
As he positioned her on all fours on the bed, Emily felt a thrill of submission. His penis, fully erect, was thick and veined, the purple-red head glistening with pre-cum. He rubbed it against her entrance, the slick warmth teasing her. ‘Tell me you want it,’ he demanded in a husky voice. She whispered, ‘Yes… but it’s so wrong.’
The insertion was deliberate and slow; he pushed in inch by inch, her tight vagina swallowing him with wet, slippery resistance. The friction of his veined shaft against her inner walls’ delicate folds created waves of pleasure. She felt every ridge, the heat enveloping him as he delved deeper, finally bumping against her cervix in a deep, fusing sensation that blurred the lines of their bodies.
The rhythm started slow, building to fervent thrusts. Each withdrawal and plunge elicited squelching sounds, her walls contracting around him like a velvet glove. Their bodies slapped together rhythmically, sweat mixing with the scent of her sweet nectar and his masculine musk. Emily’s moans grew louder, confessing her taboo lust: ‘Oh God, Marcus, deeper!’
High tide approached with her breathing quickening, vagina walls fluttering in prelude spasms, love juices flooding. At the peak, her body convulsed wildly, vagina clenching like a fist around his shaft, squirting fluids in hot bursts. She screamed in ecstasy, muscles tensing then melting into limp bliss. The afterglow brought gentle pulses in her core, their mixed essences sticky and warm, her cervix echoing soft responses, souls intertwining in forbidden satisfaction.
They lay entwined, whispering confessions of their shared secret. But desire reignited soon. Emily, now bold, straddled him in a facing position, her full breasts bouncing as she lowered onto his rigid cock. The visual of her pale curves against his dark skin under moonlight filtering through curtains was mesmerizing. She tasted the salty remnants on his lips, their kisses deep and hungry.
Foreplay this time was mutual; she licked his neck, savoring the tangy sweat, while he sucked her nipples, the wet smacks audible. ‘I confess, I love controlling you like this,’ she said, grinding down. His penis, swollen and throbbing, entered her again, the tight heat wrapping him as she rocked, feeling the deep penetration to her womb’s entrance.
Rhythm varied from slow grinds to rapid bounces, her clit rubbing against his base with electric friction. The sounds of flesh meeting flesh, her wet slurps, filled the room, scents of cum and arousal thick in the air. Confessions poured out: ‘It’s so wrong, but it feels right.’
Climax built with her gasps accelerating, inner walls quivering, fluids gushing. Peak hit with tremors shaking her frame, vagina squeezing him fiercely, juices spraying as she wailed. After, the pulsing warmth lingered, their essences mingling in euphoric haze.
Exhausted but insatiable, they moved to the bathroom for a shower. Steam filled the air as water cascaded over their bodies, highlighting Emily’s glistening curves and Marcus’s toned form. Against the tiled wall, he took her from behind again, the water adding slippery sensations.
Foreplay under the spray: hands exploring, soapy lather on her tender labia and his erect shaft. ‘One more confession: I can’t stop,’ he growled. She nodded, arching back.
Insertion was swift, his cock sliding into her drenched depths, the water amplifying the wet sounds. Thrusts were urgent, pounding against her cervix in profound union. Scents of soap mixed with their natural musk, tastes of water-kissed skin.
Rhythm pounded relentlessly, bodies slapping wetly. Her moans echoed off walls: ‘Yes, claim me!’
High point surged with pre-tremors, then explosive release: body quaking, vagina contracting violently, fluids mixing with water in torrents. She cried out, collapsing into aftershocks of tender throbs and shared warmth.
As the water cooled, they held each other, Emily’s confessions complete in the quiet aftermath, their taboo bond unbreakable.
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