Author's note: I recommend you read 'Sowing and Reaping' first, to understand the context. It's a short read with plenty of smut to keep you entertained.
THE THIRD NIGHT
I avoided Jane's eyes over breakfast, embarrassed at how my younger sister had taken charge and wrung me out during the night. Embarrassed at how much I had liked it. Waking up in the clammy sheets, damp with my own cum, that still lay disheveled on the bed in our room, had been a brutal reminder.
Jane acted as if nothing had happened. She turned her sunny smile on our uncle when he got up and made us fried eggs on toast with coffee, laughed at his jokes, even tried to engage me in morning conversation but I barely responded. My uncle noticed and asked if there was anything wrong but I could only shake my head and try to reassure him that I was fine.
"Just feeling a little tired. I didn't sleep very well" I told him. Jane laughed.
"Must be your guilty conscience." she said. "I could feel you squirming all night on your side of the bed."
They both laughed at that.
"Let's hope you have a better night tonight."
It was true, I had been squirming, or perhaps writhing might have been a better word. And now I wondered what she had in mind for tonight with that subtle emphasis on 'better'.
The day passed quickly enough, lost as I was in a fog of tiredness and self recrimination. I kept sneaking peeks at her, trying to gauge what was going on in her mind but her bright smile was like a mask, obscuring her actual emotions. I wanted to know what she was thinking. The sharp twinges in my sphincter where she had stretched me open, and the dull ache in my prostrate were a reminder of what Jane had done to me, and of how pliant I was in her hands. My little sister's hands. My conscience berated me even as my cock swelled with the memory.
Around early evening my uncle announced that he needed to go out that night and that we'd have to spend the evening on our own. He'd made us some pasta for dinner that just needed reheating and he hoped we'd be ok without him, to just help ourselves to anything we needed. Jane smiled and told him she was sure we'd be able to entertain ourselves.
As soon as he was gone her demeanour changed. Her eyes narrowed and her voice became cold. She ordered me to heat up the food and serve her at the table. I could eat after her. I got busy in the kitchen and then waited on her while she ate, pouring drinks and fetching things. As soon as she finished she told me to do the dishes and while I was cleaning up after her, she headed off to the bedroom. She was back by the time I was done washing up and she called me into the living room. I entered slowly, with a meek expression, uncertain what to expect.
My eyes widened when I saw her. Her black wavy hair was pulled severely off her face and gathered in a high ponytail. Her dark eyes were outlined with kohl and her lips were glossy and red. Like ripe cherries. I yearned to taste them. A florally black top covered her full breasts, like a bra but with lacy panels over the ribs, leaving her succulent navel and soft belly exposed. A bustier maybe? And a short black skirt, the one she wears clubbing, covering just the tops of her thighs, with a dark shadow between them that I wanted so badly to explore. The overall effect was a bit like having Ariana Grande sitting in the lounge, beckoning me over with a cruel and hungry look. I was immediately hard.
"Take off your clothes, except for your boxers" she commanded. I gulped.
