My Sister’s Relief

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The summer after graduation, Keri and I raced each other home every single day.

She was working at local fast food institution McTracy’s, and I held a regular afternoon shift at Wingman: the strip club famous for its chicken.

We both got off work at the same time every night, and our companies operated on the same block, so we were always racing home (Ferris Bueller style, cutting through yards and discovering new shortcuts) to get there first.

Whomever got home first got to use the bathroom first.

This made a big difference, to both of us, in how the rest of the evening went.

Keri was working in a place where she was on her feet all day, and dealing with nonstop customers. To keep her spirits and energy up she had a 64-oz styrofoam cup of coffee at her workstation that she sipped on throughout her shift.

But the last 2 hours of her shift overlapped with the dinner rush hour, and McTracy’s was always understaffed, so it was rare for her to get even a single chance to dash off to the bathroom.

It meant that she rushed home at the end of every shift bursting with the need to piss.

If she made it to the bathroom first, she relieved herself happily and came out with a bright smile.

But the first time I made it home before her, I emerged from the bathroom to find her waiting in the hallway with a strange expression – a sort of embarrassed glower of pleasure – and a puddle on the floor beneath her feet.

I vowed to beat her home all the time so I could keep seeing that look on her face and getting that delicious tingle when I looked at the puddle and thought about where it came from.

For me, the problem was that I was surrounded by hot girls all day. The servers at Wingman were gorgeous: just a step away from strippers themselves, as they were required to wear nothing but booty shorts and pasties. And of course, the girls that got hired were ones with fabulous bodies.

I was staring at a variety of tits, a true cornucopia, all day: gently rounded, sloping, pointed, firm, round, ovoid, pyramidal, you name it. No discrimination against cup size, with as many tiny-titted girls represented as ladies with larger breasts. A medley of skin colors and shapes and luscious-looking curves. And that was just the servers. From my line cook station in the kitchen, they were whom I interacted with most.

But when I ventured out into the main area – on breaks, or when business was slow – I got to sit in a plush chair in the back and watch these amazingly beautiful women on stage work their stripping magic. There were so many, it was hard to know which to look at or focus on.

My younger self would never have guessed that I’d be surrounded by so many naked beauties that I’d take them for granted. But there were girls all around: girls with curves, girls with plunging cleavage, girls on heels with their tits at my eye level and their breasts on display, girls with smooth thighs and short shorts…

At the end of the day, when I desperately needed to relieve the erotic tension that had built up all day, the very last thing I wanted was to come home and run into my sister in her clingy fast food uniform, stripes accentuating the fullness of her breasts, apron tied around her slender waist, grinning with relief and satisfaction as she exited the bathroom. Like…fuck. That frustration was enough to keep me in a sullen mood all night.

So when I made it home first, I took a shower and locked the door and masturbated furiously, half-standing and half-leaning against the tile. I’d blow my wad, and follow it up with a good relaxing piss, and when I exited the bathroom feeling slow and satisfied, then I’d find Keri there, glaring at me, shifting her weight back and forth in the hallway while uncontrollable halkalı escort trickles ran down her inner thighs. And it would be sexy as fuck, but my dick wouldn’t be jumping out of my pants. Win win.

At first it was a pretty even split. Some days she beat me home, and other days I got there first. Then I deliberately sped home, trying to win out all the time. After a straight week of getting to watch Keri wet herself, she wised up and shaved a few minutes off her own routine so that she made it home first for two weeks in a row. That was a miserable time for me.

When that happened, and I got home just in time to see Keri slinking around looking as sly and content as a cat, I had no choice but to beat off to the thought of my sister relieving herself. Like, when I came home straight from work then I could think about Missi, or Laurie, or Bette. But those lovely images of those other lovely women were cut straight through by the distracting and overwhelming thought of fluid bubbling out between my sister’s legs while she sighed with pleasure.

And then those images would stay with me all night: while we ate dinner with Mom and Dad, while we sat next to each other on the floor and watched TV, or any time she stood up again and announced, “be right back,” for the rest of the evening.

Even from the TV room I could hear the echoing sound of her urine striking the toilet bowl whenever she went to the bathroom. It was distracting as fuck. I’d go to bed feeling frustrated and out-of-sorts.

It was much better to get home first and get it out of my system.

Then one night, I rounded the corner to our block and saw Keri coming from the opposite direction. We were about the same distance apart. As soon as Keri saw me, she started to sprint for the front door.

I broke into a run and reached the door first, but Keri already had her keys out and ready, and she squirmed around in front of me while I was fumbling in my pocket. At this proximity, she was literally crushed between my stomach and the door, and I was uncomfortably aware of my erection pressing into her ass.

She didn’t seem to notice. We were scrabbling against each other in our haste to open the door and get through it first. We nearly fell onto the floor together in a heap when the door swung open suddenly, but Keri caught herself and was running to the bathroom before I was fully upright.

I made one last half-hearted attempt to pursue her, but even before I turned the corner I heard her swear loudly.

The bathroom door was closed, and locked.

“Fuck!” Keri said again, wiggling the handle. “Mom? Dad? Are you in there?”

There was no answer. She turned to me. “You didn’t see either of their cars in the driveway, did you?”

“No.” I was trying to focus on her face, and not on the fact that her nipples were visible through her uniform or that the curve of her hip looked as delicious to me as a three-tier chocolate cake.

“Ohhhh, fuck, I have to piss so bad,” she moaned, sinking into a shivery crouch. “You don’t think one of them accidentally locked it? I don’t think there’s anyone in there.”

From her position on the floor, she knocked on the door again. “Hello?”

“We should be able to unlock it if we poke something through,” I said, peering at the doorknob. “We just need something thin and hard that will fit in that hole.”

“You get it,” she said, still crouching. “I can’t move right now.”

I took my sweet time, leisurely rifling through Mom and Dad’s office looking for something like a paper clip that I could use.

I returned just at the perfect moment: rounding the corner precisely as Keri pressed one hand to her mouth, hurriedly pulled aside the fabric over her crotch, and peed a thick stream harbiye escort onto the wood flooring below.

She sighed lightly, then stiffened as she spotted me. She was too far gone to stop. The urine continued gushing out of her while she locked eyes with me.

“Found it,” I said, holding up the paper clip.

“Fuck you,” she said, still peeing. “I don’t need that now. Get some paper towels.”

Then her gaze drifted toward my crotch and her expression changed. Now I was the one uncomfortable and on the spot. Watching my sister relieve herself on the ground had given me a ridiculously hard erection. I was definitely, visibly, tenting the front of my pants.

I cleared my throat. “Get your own paper towels.” Then, stiffly, I approached the door and pushed the paper clip through until I heard the lock spring open with a click.

When I eased the bathroom door shut behind me, I glanced at her for just a moment; her expression was stranger and more indecipherable than ever. And my own masturbation felt strangely guilt-laden.

The next day, on my way home, I walked slowly. I deliberately took my time, trying to give Keri as much time as possible to get home and get her thing over with. As long as I didn’t have to see the look of relief and satisfaction on her face.

But when I got home, I was surprised to turn the corner and find her standing in the hallway in front of the bathroom. Almost like she was waiting for me.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Waiting for you,” she said.


“Uh…” I glanced at the closed bathroom door behind her. “Did Mom or Dad lock the bathroom again?”

“No,” she said. “I did.”

She took a step towards me and I felt a little flutter in my stomach but my dick took a huge leap into the air. I suddenly had a feeling that I was in trouble…

It was thrilling.

“You took a long time to get home today,” she said.

“Yeah, well…”

Another step. “I’ve been holding it in a long time.”

I took a step in retreat and felt my back against the wall. A shiver ran down my spine. “Yeah?”

“Don’t act so innocent,” she said, and pushed down on my shoulder. “Get down. On the ground.”

I crouched and she pushed me down further so my knees were on the floor.

“Open your mouth,” she instructed me.

“What are you-“

Wordlessly, she untied the apron from around her waist and let it fall to the ground. She lifted the knee-length skirt and pulled it up; she was entirely bare underneath.

Her pussy was gleaming with wet droplets, as if she had let a few leak out while she held her bladder.

“Open. Your. Mouth,” she said in a voice that was as dangerous as it was quiet.

I opened my mouth.

Keri took a step forward and nestled her pussy against the pocket between my parted lips.

“I’m going to piss in your mouth,” she said. “Payback for all the accidents I’ve had waiting for you, you ass – I know you were doing it deliberately. You’d better swallow every drop.”

Before I could make any kind of noise of assent, she was already peeing: with force. It streamed into my mouth, drenching and drowning my tongue with liquid. It was bitter from the coffee but I swallowed every drop, even though she kept going and going as if she might never stop.

And while she peed, she moaned with a noise of such animal pleasure that it raised the hair on my neck and arms. I sucked at her greedily, as if I could sate the aching in my own cock by just drinking and drinking from her…

When she finally pulled away, her eyes were bright and her smile wide. “Oh fuck, that felt good. I needed that so much.”

She eyed the bulge in my pants. “Seems like there’s something you need, too.”

“No,” ikitelli escort I said honestly. “That was all I needed.”

She liked this answer; it made her tug me up to standing level again, and she slowly undid my belt and took out my cock.

“Damn,” she said, holding me. Her fingers were light but her grip was strong. A little precum slid out the tip and she rubbed it around the head with her thumb. Fuck. I started to buck in her hand a little, unconsciously, but she stopped me with a hand on the chest.

I was ready to whimper when she let go of my cock…until she turned herself around, flipped up her skirt, and planted her hands on the wall.

After a moment she checked over her shoulder at me, staring speechless at the sight: her hourglass figure, her splayed legs, her round ass.

“Are you going to do this or what?” she asked, reaching behind her to spread herself for me, giving me a glimpse of her glistening pussy entrance. I took a step forward, and she guided my cock to rub against her. Her labia was slick with arousal, and she made a little noise every time the ridge of my cockhead slid against her clit.

I couldn’t wait any longer; I bent my knees a little, pushed my cock against her entrance, and slid inside in one motion.

“Fuck!” she said explosively as I penetrated her deeply. “Ohhhhh, fuckfuckfuck, fuck me.”

So I did.

Grabbing my sister by the hips, I took her from behind in the hallway. I pounded her tender cunt with my cock while she whimpered and slammed back against me. The only sound in the house was our heavy breathing, moaning, and the slap of her ass against my pelvis.

I came inside her with the most powerful orgasm I ever had. The spasm ripped through my body and spilled outward as I pumped semen into her bare pussy – arc after streaming arc. I felt several distinct waves of sensation as each spurt built in tension and then flowed out of me, into her.

She moaned too, and slumped against the wall, and I realized her fingers were furiously working her clit. She was getting tighter and tighter around me – so tight, it was keeping me hard. My cock was held in place, swollen and tender. She gasped and made little cries, and I had the best view of her hips and ass, and the satisfaction of knowing I had creamed inside her, and all of it was too much: I started to get hard again, immediately.

With the noises from her mouth, and the wet sounds of her cunt as she moved against me, and the tightening around my cock as I got harder…fuck. I was almost ready to spill my load again.

Then Keri went on tiptoe, and clenched around me, and I felt her own cunt spasm while she cried out in pleasure. It tipped me over the edge. I came at the same time: with her twitching cunt milking me, prolonging my own rippling orgasm.

We both sunk down to the floor in a tangle. I was inside her still, unwilling to withdraw. I knew as soon as I did, we’d have a bigger mess to deal with.

Our bodies were relaxed with satisfaction, and I suddenly felt a warmth against my crotch. Keri was peeing, just a little bit: releasing the drabbles that hadn’t gushed out in the first flow. It was just a light trickle, but she sustained it to pee continuously for quite some time.

It made me shiver. Keri finally pulled away, separating my cock and her cunt. As expected, the movement shook loose some fluid that splattered against the floor.

Keri opened the bathroom door and tossed out a clump of toilet paper for me to wipe it with. “Mom and Dad won’t be home for hours,” she said. “I guess, if you really want to shower, we don’t have to race for it anymore. We could do it at the same time?”

My sister stood in the doorway: tits straining against the button-up shirt, skirt hiked up, pussy bare, with trickles of pee and semen slipping down her thighs.

And that’s the story of how my sister and I stopped racing to get home first.

In the end, we learned that a little sibling camaraderie was better than competition. And the rest of the summer was very enjoyable.

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