r4p3puppi - Tumblr blog

r4p3puppi · 4 months ago

Note

Brother and sister playing a game of chicken with a super steamy show/porn and whoever asks to stop loses…neither of them stop and they keep upping the ante for the game until sissy’s cunt ends up stuffed to the brim with his cum.

I hope this is what you meant lol if not please feel free to submit again xxx

“You’re not gonna chicken out, are you?” she taunted, her voice dripping with mockery as she leaned back against the couch, her legs spread just enough to be noticed. Her brother’s jaw tightened, his eyes flicking between her and the steamy scene playing out on the TV screen. The room felt heavier now, the air thick with something unspoken, something dangerous.

“You wish,” he shot back, his voice low, almost a growl. He shifted in his seat, trying to hide the growing arousal that was becoming harder to ignore. “You’re the one who’s gonna crack first. You always do.”

She smirked, her fingers lazily trailing along the hem of her shorts. Always do, huh? She wasn’t so sure about that. This time felt different. This time, the stakes were higher, and the tension between them was electric, crackling like a live wire.

It had started innocently enough—or at least as innocently as these things ever did. They’d been lounging on the couch, bored out of their minds, when she’d suggested a game. Not just any game, though. A game of chicken. Something daring, something risky. Something that would push them both to their limits.

“What’s the matter? Scared?” she’d challenged, her eyes glinting with mischief. She’d been teasing him all afternoon, testing his patience, seeing how far she could push him. He’d always been the cautious one, the one who overthought everything. But tonight, she was determined to make him break.

He’d hesitated at first, his brow furrowing as he tried to read her. “Depends on the game,” he’d said slowly, his voice wary. He knew better than to agree to anything without knowing the rules, especially when it came to her. She had a way of twisting things, of turning them into something he wasn’t ready for.

She’d grinned, leaning in close, her breath warm against his ear. “We watch something… steamy. Whoever flinches first loses. Simple, right?”

He’d laughed, a nervous, uncertain sound. “You’re serious?”

“Dead serious,” she’d replied, her eyes locked on his. There was something in her gaze, something he couldn’t quite place. A challenge, yes, but something else, too. Something darker, more primal.

He’d hesitated, his mind racing. This was dangerous territory, but the way she was looking at him, the way she was daring him, it was impossible to say no. “Fine,” he’d said finally, his voice steady despite the storm brewing inside him. “But don’t blame me when you can’t handle it.”

Now here they were, the TV screen filled with a scene so explicit it made his pulse quicken. The actors’ moans filled the room, and he could feel the heat radiating off his sister’s body as she sat just inches away. She was watching him more than the screen, her eyes gleaming with something that made his stomach twist.

“You’re really gonna sit there and pretend this isn’t turning you on?” she purred, her voice soft, teasing. She shifted closer, her thigh brushing against his. He tensed, his breath catching in his throat.

“I could ask you the same thing,” he retorted, forcing himself to sound calm, unaffected. But he wasn’t fooling anyone—least of all her. She could see the way his hands clenched into fists, the way his chest rose and fell just a little too quickly.

She chuckled, low and throaty. “Oh, I’m definitely turned on. But that’s not the point, is it? The point is to see who cracks first. So… what’s it gonna be?” Her hand crept closer to his leg, her fingers skimming over the fabric of his jeans. He froze, his heart pounding in his chest.

“Careful,” he warned, his voice tight. He didn’t trust himself to say more, didn’t trust himself not to give in to the temptation she was so blatantly offering.

“Careful?” she echoed, her lips curving into a sly smile. “Or what?” Her fingers dipped slightly higher, brushing against the inner seam of his jeans. He sucked in a sharp breath, his body reacting before he could stop it.

“Stop,” he said, but it came out more like a plea than a command. She didn’t stop. If anything, her touch grew bolder, her fingers tracing the outline of his growing erection through the fabric.

“You want me to stop?” she murmured, her voice dripping with feigned innocence. “Then say it. Admit you’ve lost.”

He clenched his teeth, his fists tightening until his knuckles turned white. He couldn’t lose—not to her, not like this. But the way she was touching him, the way she was looking at him, it was driving him insane.

“You’re not gonna win,” he ground out, his voice strained. He reached out, his hand closing around her wrist, but he didn’t push her away. He couldn’t. Instead, his grip tightened, his thumb brushing over her pulse point.

She laughed, a soft, breathless sound. “We’ll see about that.” She leaned in closer, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered, “Unless you’re too scared to keep going.”

Her words were a challenge, a dare, and he knew he couldn’t back down. Not now. Not ever. His grip on her wrist tightened, and he pulled her closer, his lips crashing against hers in a desperate, hungry kiss.

She moaned into his mouth, her body melting against his. Her free hand tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. He could feel her heart racing, could feel the heat of her body as she pressed against him.

When they finally broke apart, they were both breathless, their chests heaving as they stared at each other. There was no turning back now—no pretending this was just a game.

“Still think you’re gonna win?” she breathed, her lips swollen, her eyes dark with desire.

He didn’t answer. Instead, he reached for her, his hands gripping her hips as he pulled her onto his lap. She gasped, her eyes widening as she felt the hard length of him pressing against her.

“Maybe I’ll just take what I want,” he growled, his voice rough with need.

She smirked, her fingers trailing down his chest. “Go ahead. I dare you.”

He didn’t hesitate. His hands slid under her shirt, pushing it up and over her head in one swift motion. She wasn’t wearing a bra, and the sight of her bare breasts made his mouth water. He leaned in, his lips closing around one nipple, sucking hard as she moaned, her head falling back.

“You really—oh, God—really think you can—fuck—handle me?” she gasped, her hands clutching at his shoulders.

He didn’t answer. Instead, he flipped her onto her back, pinning her to the couch as he yanked her shorts down. She wasn’t wearing panties, and the sight of her slick, glistening folds made his cock throb.

“You’re the one who’s gonna break,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. He positioned himself at her entrance, his cock brushing against her wetness.

She laughed, though it came out more like a moan. “Prove it.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. He thrust into her in one swift motion, burying himself to the hilt as she cried out, her nails digging into his back.

“Who’s breaking now?” he asked, his voice a growl as he began to move, each thrust deeper, harder than the last.

She didn’t answer—couldn’t answer. All she could do was moan, her hips meeting his thrust for thrust as the room filled with the sound of their bodies slapping together.

He didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop. The way she felt around him, hot and tight, her body arching to meet his every thrust—it was intoxicating. Her breath came in short, sharp gasps, mingling with his own ragged breathing as he drove into her again and again, deeper, harder, faster. She’s not stopping. Neither am I.

Her nails raked down his back, leaving fiery trails of sensation that only fueled his hunger. He growled, low and primal, and grabbed her hips, lifting her slightly to adjust the angle. When he slammed into her this time, she cried out, her voice breaking on a moan that sent a jolt of electricity straight to his cock. She’s close. God, she’s so close.

“Who’s breaking now?” he taunted, his voice rough, his words punctuated by the rhythmic slap of their bodies. Still playing the game, even now. He wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince—her or himself.

She didn’t answer with words. Instead, she grabbed his face and pulled him into a searing kiss, her tongue tangling with his as she moaned into his mouth. Her hips rocked against his, urging him on, her slick walls clenching around him in a way that made his vision blur. She’s not stopping. She’s not stopping.

He broke the kiss, his mouth trailing down her neck, nipping and sucking at her skin as he pounded into her. Her legs wrapped around his waist, locking him in place as she met him thrust for thrust, her body writhing beneath him. Every inch of her was fire, and he was burning alive in it.

“You’re not stopping,” she breathed, her voice trembling, her fingers tangling in his hair. “You’re not stopping.”

“Neither are you,” he rasped, his thrusts growing erratic, his control slipping. He could feel it building, that pressure low in his gut, hot and unrelenting. Not yet. Not yet.

She moaned, the sound high and desperate, her body tightening around him in a way that made him curse under his breath. “I’m not—I’m not stopping,” she gasped, her eyes locking with his. God, her eyes. He could drown in them. He was drowning in them.

He kissed her again, deep and bruising, as he fucked her with everything he had. Her nails dug into his shoulders, her cries muffled against his lips as she trembled beneath him. He pulled back just enough to see her face, to watch her come undone, her eyes fluttering shut, her lips parting on a soundless scream as her orgasm ripped through her.

Her walls clenched around him, tight and rhythmic, and it was too much. He groaned, his hips stuttering as he buried himself to the hilt, his release crashing over him like a wave. He came harder than he ever had before, his body shuddering with the force of it as he spilled himself inside her, hot and unrelenting.

For a moment, they stayed like that, tangled together, breathing hard, their bodies still connected. She’s filled. She’s filled.

He collapsed onto her, his forehead resting against hers as they caught their breath. Her hands moved to his back, tracing lazy circles on his skin as her legs finally relaxed, sliding down to the bed. So soft. So warm.

“You didn’t stop,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, her breath warm against his lips.

“Neither did you,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead before pulling out of her, hissing at the sensation. He rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling as his heartbeat slowly returned to normal. What the hell just happened?

She shifted beside him, her hand finding his, her fingers intertwining with his in a way that felt far too intimate for the situation. But he didn’t pull away. Couldn’t pull away.

“Do you want to stop?” she asked, her voice soft, tentative.

He turned his head to look at her, her face illuminated by the faint light filtering through the curtains. She’s beautiful. She’s my sister. The thought should have sent him spiraling, but instead, it only made him want her more.

“Do you?” he countered, his voice rough, his thumb brushing over the back of her hand.

She didn’t answer right away, her eyes searching his as if trying to find the truth in them. Then, slowly, she shook her head. No.

He rolled onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow as he looked down at her, his other hand brushing a strand of hair from her face. She’s not stopping. I’m not stopping.

“Then neither do I,” he said, his voice low, his lips brushing against hers in a kiss that was far too gentle for the heat still simmering between them.

Her hands found his chest, her fingers splaying over his skin as she kissed him back, her body arching into his. He could feel the heat radiating off her, could taste her desire on his tongue as he deepened the kiss, his hand sliding down to her hip, pulling her closer.

“Again,” she whispered against his lips, her voice trembling with need. “Again.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. His hand moved between her legs, his fingers sliding through her slick folds, teasing her until she gasped into his mouth. So wet. So ready.

He groaned, his cock already hardening again as he positioned himself between her thighs, his tip brushing against her entrance. “You’re sure?” he asked, his voice rough, his body trembling with restraint. Please say yes.

“Yes,” she breathed, her hands clutching at his shoulders, her hips lifting to meet his. “Yes.”

He thrust into her in one smooth motion, burying himself to the hilt as she cried out, her nails digging into his back. God, she’s perfect. He began to move, his thrusts slow and deep, each one dragging a moan from her lips.

“Faster,” she gasped, her legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him deeper. “Harder.”

He obliged, his hips snapping against hers with a force that made the bed creak beneath them. Her moans grew louder, more desperate, her body arching into his as he fucked her with a hunger that bordered on madness. More. More.

She came first, her body tightening around him in a vice-like grip as she cried out, her nails raking down his back. He followed moments later, his release spilling into her with a force that left him breathless, his body shuddering with the intensity of it. She’s filled. She’s filled.

They stayed like that for a moment, tangled together, breathing hard, until she finally spoke, her voice soft, trembling. “You didn’t stop.”

He kissed her, slow and lingering, his hand brushing her hair from her face. “Neither did you.”

He was already hardening again, his cock pressing insistently against her thigh. She glanced down, then back up at him, her eyes dark with desire. Again?

“Again,” she whispered, her hands moving to his hips, pulling him closer.

He didn’t argue. He couldn’t. Her warmth, her scent, her need—it was consuming him. He slid into her once more, his body moving with a rhythm that felt both new and achingly familiar. She’s not stopping. Neither am I.

370 notes · View notes