Cry Little Sister by Parker Ford Page A

fantasies about my own sister.”
    “Oh God,” she breathed, that familiar tightening already starting. “Don’t Gar—”
    “Hush up, little sister,” he said amiably, reminding her of her promise. “You don’t tell me what to do, I tell you what to do.”
    She nodded, chewing her lip even as her hips jolted up to meet him, her cunt gripping tight to take him. She sighed and he started to talk again, his breath hot on her ear.
    “I wondered what was wrong with me. Most boys hated their sisters. Most of them couldn’t stand the sight of their sisters. Me, I was fucking in love with my sister. I beat off thinking about her pretty pink pussy. Thinking about taking her small perfect breasts in my hands and pinching her nipples until she cried. But then begged me to do it some more.”
    Jordan felt her inner muscles flicker, the blood quickening in her brain and growing heavy and in intense in her pelvis. With each driving thrust, his sharp pelvic bone banged her clit and the pressure and need for release inside of her grew bigger. So big she felt it would push her under and she’d simply disappear.
    She wished she could wrap her legs around his waist and tilt herself to take him deeper. She wished she could use the muscles in her thighs to thrust up to meet him but her ankles were bound. She wished she could say anything that made sense but couldn’t because he’d reduced her to soft sighs and needy sounds.
    “I thought I was crazy. Wanting you. Dreaming about you. Getting myself off to thoughts of fucking you, taking you every way that I could imagine. Fucking your mouth. Your pussy. Your ass.” He pushed his lips to her earlobe when he said that one and Jordan felt the first sudden jolt of release.
    She was never going to make it.
    “You’re so tight and wet, Jordan. You’re going to come. Aren’t you?”
    “No.”
    It was a lie.
    “Yes, you are. Very soon. You like to hear how you made me come undone all those years.”
    He grasped her hips in his hands, his body crushed to hers—pinning her down—as the thrust in a faster tempo. His hipbones banged hers hard enough to bring a flash of pain to her nearly crushing pleasure.
    “No,” she whispered.
    Another lie.
    “I watched you once, in your room. Did you know?”
    “No,” she gasped and this time it was the truth.
    “I watched you get off. I watched you lying on your bed with your legs wide open. You pretty little cunt almost the same shade of pink as your bedspread. And the way your paler pink fingers played over your wet folds. Over that hard little bud of you clitoris. How you pushed your fingers into your pussy and arched your back and lifted your hips.”
    She was coming. The spasms jumping to life deep inside of her and then rippling out like waves in water. Jordan tossed her head and moaned but he kept his mouth close to her ear so she could hear.
    “And I stood there, risking being caught at any moment, and jacked off. Right at your door. Dick in hand, pumping for all I was worth so we’d come together. And when you came, I came, right on the rug by your door. Like some kind of twisted offering to you, the sister who haunted me.”
    The force of her orgasm settled on her and Jordan sobbed with it. She’d have given anything to be able to hold him as she came. Instead her arms twisted and whipped around inside their dark bonds. Gareth clamped his teeth to her jaw, his teeth pricking at her skin. Then he growled at her, his body bucking with his own release.
    “And you’re doing it again. Making me come undone. Fuck Jordan, I always unravel when it comes to you.”
    He pressed his forehead to her forehead and his lips to hers as his own violent release took him. Jordan relished the feel of her body clamping up tight around him, milking him and taking him and connecting with him.
    She rode out all the sweet little spasms that followed and watched his body tense over hers. God, how she loved him.
    God, how it scared her.
    *****
    Jordan