01 - Megan

I have a problem. A really big problem.

My name is Jessica, I'm twenty-five years old, and I want to fuck my sister Megan, who, just like me, is also twenty-five.

And I'm screwed. Completely and utterly screwed, because I'm perfectly aware that what I feel for my sister isn't normal. And the worst part is that she isn't my stepsister or adopted sister or anything like that. No. She's literally my sister. We have the same mother. I genuinely don't want to feel this way about her, but fuck—Megan is so unbelievably hot it's ridiculous.

And the worst part? I know it would be the secret—or maybe not-so-secret—fantasy of practically everyone who knows us, because Megan and I are both literally models. But I can't help it. I just can't resist her.

In fact, that's exactly why I've decided to start this diary. I can't tell anyone about this. I'm completely fucked, because who the hell am I supposed to tell that I want to bury my face in my sister's ass and eat it for hours?

Uffff...

Anyway, I'm going to try to calm down and explain the situation. Maybe putting it into words will help me see things differently and stop obsessing over her.

Like I said, my name is Jessica. I'm twenty-five, tall, pretty, and brunette. My hair is long enough to fall down my back, my eyes are green, and I have a pretty face with full lips that I take very good care of. I also have a toned body from working out. My boobs aren't particularly big, but I have a great ass. And when I say I'm pretty, that's not just me saying it—my sister and I are literally models. We're with the same agency. I usually get booked for cosmetics and perfume campaigns because I have that rich, spoiled-girl look, while she gets hired for pretty much anything related to sports, like activewear or fitness accessories.

My problem?

My problem is my fucking sister and how ridiculously hot she is. Especially now that she's twenty-five.

I want to make one thing clear: I've never felt this way about my sister before. I'm not some pervert who's secretly been attracted to her my entire life or anything like that. Quite the opposite. It's the woman Megan has become now that I find so irresistible.

I suppose I should describe her.

What is my sister Megan like now?

Well, now that she's gotten seriously into fitness, Megan is fucking tall, gorgeous, and blonde, and she usually wears her hair in a ponytail. Her body is perfect. She has defined abs and a very lean but athletic figure, and that face... I can't get it out of my head because she's beautiful. She has a strong jawline and incredible eyes. She barely has any boobs, and somehow that suits her perfectly, but her legs and ass make it almost impossible for me not to stare when we train together.

Megan is my older sister, although “older sister” deserves quotation marks because she's only ten months older than me. But fuck, she's perfect.

And it isn't just her body. What turns me on most is the new personality she's developed. Now she acts tough. Serious. Like a diva. Megan never used to be like that.

There's another problem, and I think it's one of the reasons I've started feeling this way about her: we hadn't seen each other in years.

I'm not going to tell our entire life story, but basically I spent all my university years in Europe while she stayed here in the United States.

I came back about six months ago after five years away, and the last thing I expected was to discover that my older sister had somehow turned into Miss Universe. To me, anyway. Obviously, she isn't literally Miss Universe. And it isn't entirely true that I hadn't seen my family for five years either. Megan was the only one I hadn't seen, because for one reason or another we'd never managed to be in the same place during those years. I'd seen pictures of her on social media, but Jesus Christ, seeing someone in a photo is nothing like seeing them in person.

Like I said, I came back a few months ago, and Megan asked if I wanted to get an apartment with her in New York. Obviously I said yes. I mean, look at her.

So we've been living together for several months now.

There's something else I may not have mentioned. Megan had a boyfriend—or some guy, anyway. I'm not even sure whether they were officially together. A couple of months ago, I walked into her bedroom without knocking and caught my sister on her knees with her boyfriend's cock in her mouth.

It was incredibly weird, and as hard as it is to admit, I think that was when I first started feeling something for her. I walked into her room and her boyfriend—handsome, perfect, half-dressed—had his cock out. But what really stayed with me was the sight of my sister in workout clothes with a cock in her mouth. She was holding him with her left hand, and when I opened the door I froze for a few seconds, completely stunned. Long enough to watch my sister moving her head back and forth, taking his long, thick cock into her mouth again and again.

I apologized with an embarrassed smile and closed the door. Nothing happened afterward. They eventually came out of the room, and none of us ever mentioned it again.

I mean, it isn't the end of the world. Catching your twenty-five-year-old sister on her knees sucking a cock isn't exactly some unimaginable event. It probably would've been stranger if I'd caught them actually fucking or doing something really wild. Still, the image stayed with me: my sister sucking cock.

It's only one little detail, but it had a huge effect on me. Actually, now that I'm writing it down, I think it makes sense. Seeing my sister with a cock in her mouth made something click inside my head. For the first time, I saw her as a sexual being.

Anyway, I should probably explain our relationship as sisters.

We always got along when we were younger. Nothing weird ever happened between us. I had boyfriends, and so did she. During the five years I was away, we didn't talk that much. But since I came back, we've become best friends again.

The difference is that Megan isn't a girl anymore. She talks like a woman now. A tough, hardened woman.

At the moment, she works as a personal trainer and I work in fashion. But I'm not going to start talking about our jobs because I'm getting sidetracked.

Sorry. I'm drifting away from the point again. Back to our relationship.

The new Megan—and by “the new Megan,” I mean the sister I discovered when I came home—was, and still is, confident, diva-like, tough, strong, and decisive. I think the word I'm looking for is authority. She speaks with authority. She radiates authority and strength.

That's what struck me most about her.

The problem with our relationship is that I'm actually quite submissive. That's something I discovered during the years I lived in Europe. If you looked at me, you'd probably assume I was the stereotypical arrogant diva—and, to be fair, I partly am—but I've realized that I like being told what to do. I like people speaking to me with authority. At the same time, I also like affection. And Megan has exactly that sweet side with me because I'm her sister, while still having that harder side because she naturally speaks in such a serious way. I'm also really attracted to people with very little body fat and muscles that are defined enough to notice without looking exaggerated. And, once again, that's exactly what my sister looks like.

And the worst part?

I'm not a lesbian.

Seriously. I'm not attracted to women. It's just that somehow all the stars have aligned perfectly for my sister to become my ultimate sexual fantasy. And the worst part is that I live with her. If we didn't live together, fine, no problem. But when I walk into the kitchen and constantly find myself face-to-face with that sculpted body of hers, things start going through my head. And Jesus Christ, her ass. It's incredible. Firm, strong, and big. I've never done it before and I know it sounds filthy, but I want to eat her ass. How exactly am I supposed to tell my twenty-five-year-old sister that I want to bury my face in it?

And finally, there's her current emotional state. Like I said earlier, my sister was seeing some guy, but they broke up—or whatever happened between them—and lately she's been going through this whole “men are the worst” phase. It makes me want to cheer her up in ways I really shouldn't be thinking about.

So, to summarize, I like my sister because:

- She has a defined, strong body, long legs, and a perfect ass.
- She barely has any boobs. That might sound stupid, but somehow it makes her even more attractive to me.
- She has this tough, athletic face that drives me crazy.
- She's incredibly sweet to me and loves me, while also being tough.
- I've seen her sucking a cock. It was only for a few seconds, but it's already created a very specific sexual image of her in my head.
- She's sexually frustrated and desperately needs someone to eat her pussy. Okay, I'm not actually sure about that last one, but I'd love it to be true.

So here I am, horny as hell.

My plan? I don't have one. I have absolutely no idea what to do. So I'm going to wait. What I feel for her worries me, but for now I'm just going to calm down and see what happens.

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02 - Honesty (Two Months Later)

Okay. Where the hell do I start?

Things with my sister have progressed. Whether they've progressed in a good way or a bad way, I honestly have no idea. But they've definitely progressed.

For starters, I've spent the last two months getting turned on every time I see my sister walking around the apartment with that athletic body and supermodel-diva face of hers.

Eventually, I got tired of keeping it to myself and repressing everything, so today I finally said it. Calmly. Casually. As if telling your own supermodel sister that you'd love to eat her pussy were the most normal thing in the world.

Simple.

But first I should quickly summarize the last two months, because there's a reason I was able to say something like that to my sister so openly.

A few weeks ago, Megan and I went to a party with some friends. At one point, a couple of guys asked if Megan and I would make out with each other to turn them on, and we did. Well, “make out” is probably overstating it. My sister and I just kissed each other a couple of times, and that was basically it. Megan did it because she liked one of the guys. I did it because I liked her. It was a university party, and later I once again saw my sister from a distance, down on her knees sucking that guy's cock. It was that kind of party.

Afterward, my sister and that guy dated for a while, and I decided I had to forget about her. There was nothing I could do. But two weeks later they broke up, and I've now spent roughly a month listening to my sister complain about men in general around the apartment.

I've taken advantage of her newly heartbroken attitude by becoming much more affectionate with her. By that I mean hugs, kisses on the cheek, and back massages in the morning while she's eating breakfast.

Basically, we are—or were—getting along amazingly well, and I've been taking really good care of her. In return, she tells me almost every day that she has the best sister in the world.

The thing is, whenever my sister complains about guys, she keeps coming back to the same problem: guys only want to receive and never want to do anything in return. Basically, she used to suck this guy's cock, but he wouldn't eat her pussy. That's the short version.

So we were having breakfast this morning and my sister was complaining again. I don't remember the exact context because I was half asleep, but she said something like:

“Seriously, I just don't understand guys. All they know how to do is ask for things, and then they never do anything for you.” she was basically complaining to the universe. I wasn't really listening properly. And then, as calmly as humanly possible, I said:

“Yeah, I know. You're right. I don't get it either, especially when you're so fucking hot. Look, I know I'm your sister, but with that body and that ass... Jesus. If I weren't your sister and I were a guy, I'd stick my head between your legs and eat everything. Actually, fuck it. I'd do it even though I am your sister. I'm not going to lie. Seriously, you're ridiculously hot.” I said all of that while eating breakfast and staring at my phone, the way you say something automatically without thinking.

Obviously, I had thought about it. In fact, I'd been preparing that line for weeks, waiting for exactly the right moment to use it. It was perfect because it sounded exaggerated enough that she couldn't know how serious I actually was. If she reacted badly, I could always put on my stupid spoiled-girl voice and go, “Oh my God, I was joking. I'm your sister. Can't you take a joke?” Then I could act offended.

But if she didn't react badly...

My sister isn't stupid, though. She's my sister. So after I said it, there were several painfully awkward seconds where she froze and stared at me.

Then she asked:

“Seriously? You really think I'm that hot?”

That was when I realized I'd won the conversation.

There's something you need to understand about my sister: she's the most narcissistic person on the planet. She spends hours looking at herself in the mirror. She absolutely loves being told she's hot. By anyone. I'm not judging her, because I'm exactly the same. If somebody starts telling me how gorgeous I am—and that's happened about a hundred thousand times—I love it, even if I have absolutely no intention of doing anything with them.

So when she asked me that, I said:

“Of course I do.”

And then I spent about twenty minutes telling her exactly how hot she was. How beautiful she was. How amazing her abs looked. How perfect she was. Importantly, though, I didn't say any of it in a sleazy way. It was more like two friends—or literally two sisters—building each other up.

Naturally, she loved listening to her sister spend twenty minutes telling her how gorgeous she was.

We kept talking, and somehow the conversation eventually reached the point where she said:

“I don't know. I'm just miserable.”

Things were going so well that I decided to push a little further.

“Girl, all you need is someone to eat your pussy properly. If you ever get so desperate you can't take it anymore, just call me. I'll come into your room and sort you out.”

Once again, I said it casually while looking at my phone.

My sister isn't stupid. In fact, she's extremely smart. Sometimes too smart.

“Jessica, that's the second time you've told me you want to eat my pussy.” Her voice was somewhere between serious and stern.

I'm not going to lie. I got incredibly nervous.

“Come on, it's sister stuff. That's what sisters are for, right?” I tried to laugh it off.

I'm not going to lie—it was incredibly awkward that she'd confronted me about it directly. My plan had been to drop hints, not actually discuss them. But the stern look my sister gave me made me nervous as hell.

Then she came up behind me, grabbed the back of my neck, squeezed hard enough to hurt, and whispered aggressively into my ear:

“Watch what you say. Do you understand me? You don't say things like that to your sister.” she was angry. Not horny. Not seductive. Angry.

“Yeah. Sorry, Megan. I'm sorry.” I said it while the grip on my neck hurt.

Then she walked away without another word.

Fortunately, later that day we went to the gym together and things went back to normal between us. The problem is that I have no idea how much it actually bothered her. She's been giving me mixed signals.

She was angry when I said it, but by the afternoon she seemed to have calmed down. Before going to bed, she even said gently:

“I'm sorry if I went too far earlier.” Then she left.

So I don't know. I'm uncertain.

There are a dozen ways to interpret it. I don't know whether she's angry or not. My plan is very simple: I'm not going to mention it again. If something happens, it happens. If it doesn't, it doesn't. Tomorrow morning will be interesting. I'll see whether she asks me for her usual massage at breakfast. I have a feeling she's in her room thinking about the whole thing too.

...............................................................................................

03 - Eating Pussy (Three Months Later)

Today my dreams came true, and I couldn't possibly feel more satisfied—or more turned on.

It's true that it didn't happen the way I'd imagined, but I think it might actually have been even better.

Today my sister appeared in my bedroom completely naked and furious, sat directly on my face, pressed her pussy against me, and snapped:

“I can't fucking believe this. Seriously. And just so you know, what's about to happen is your fault. You don't talk to your sister like that.” she sounded furious. Then she grabbed my head, holding me firmly in place, and started grinding her pussy against my face and mouth.

Personally, I fucking loved it.

The best part? She apparently thought it was some kind of punishment. When she was finished, she glared at me and said:

“And just so we're clear, this was your fucking fault. If you tell anyone, you'll regret it. And if you ever make one of those jokes again, I'm coming back here and you're going to do the same thing again and again until you learn your lesson.” she stormed out and slammed the door behind her.

The funny thing is that my sister seems to think she forced me into something. She thinks she made me do it. But the reality couldn't be more different. The reality is that she did exactly what I've wanted her to do ever since I came home and saw what she'd turned into.

She fucked my face.

But let me slow down and explain everything properly.

In my previous diary entry, I wrote about how, three months ago, I casually told my sister she was incredibly hot and that what she really needed—after all her complaining about guys—was someone to eat her pussy properly. I told her that if she wanted, I'd come into her bedroom and take care of it myself. She reacted extremely badly. She snapped at me, told me sisters didn't say things like that to each other, and gave me a horrible look. Later that same day, though, she apologized for speaking to me so harshly.

Obviously, I decided not to do anything after that. She'd reacted badly, so I left it alone.

For the next two days she was a little colder with me. Then, two mornings later, while we were having breakfast, she suddenly said:

“Look, I need to say this. What you said to me the other day was really fucked up. You need to understand that you can't make jokes like that, okay? I'm having a hard time right now. I have to train constantly, I'm exhausted, and I'm not going to lie, I'm feeling a little starved for affection. So you coming along and joking about eating my pussy isn't funny, okay? And stop telling me how gorgeous I am, because I'm not buying it. We both know you're the pretty one. You don't need to laugh at me to my face.”

And she kept going.

Basically, she was upset because, in her own head, she isn't beautiful. She thinks having almost no boobs and such a lean, muscular body makes her look masculine. She was also furious because she genuinely believed I'd been joking when I offered to eat her pussy.

And, honestly, I understood her.

I'll say it again: my sister turns me on. A lot. An insane amount. I know it's wrong to say it, but when I see that toned body and that sharp, athletic face of hers, all I want to do is drop to my knees and eat her pussy. But I can understand why she might think men would find her less attractive. Guys often seem to look for softer, more submissive women rather than someone as strong and tough as Megan. And I am conventionally pretty in exactly that softer, more spoiled, feminine way.

When she finally finished talking, I looked at her and said:

“Megan, you're the most beautiful girl I've ever met. Your eyes, your body... seriously. I'm not joking when I tell you I'm here for whatever you need. And when I say whatever you need, I mean literally whatever you need.”

Seeing her so vulnerable turned me on.

Well, she didn't take that particularly well either.

“Here we go again. Careful, Jess. If you like me that much, one of these days you might wake up with my pussy sitting on that spoiled little face of yours.” she sounded furious, then walked away.

Megan only calls me Jess when she's really angry with me.

That was the day I realized I'd won.

It took me a while to understand it, but my sister's problem wasn't that she hated the idea of me wanting her. It was that she thought she was ugly, while she saw me the way I saw her: as someone unattainable.

So from that day on, I decided to be much more affectionate with her. More hugs. More kisses on the cheek. And, basically, little attempts to turn her on.

There was even one genuinely beautiful moment about a month ago when we kissed.

She was sitting in the kitchen looking depressed, so I walked over and hugged her. I gave her a few gentle kisses on the neck, and when she turned toward me, we exchanged three little kisses on the lips. Then I told her I loved her, said I had to go, and she told me she loved me too. Later, she explained why she'd been so depressed: during an advertising shoot, she'd overheard the director talking about her and saying that she “had a man's body.”

Basically, I think Megan has spent these last three months struggling with her emotions. On one hand, she feels lonely. On the other, she has an affectionate, attentive model sister taking care of her, and she thinks I'm somehow making fun of her. In Megan's head, she's ugly, and she assumes I say these things just to make her feel better. She doesn't realize how insanely turned on I am by her.

Anyway, I have no idea what finally went through my dear sister's head, but this morning I was lying in bed reading when she suddenly walked into my room completely naked and shut the door behind her.

I couldn't believe my eyes. I was instantly turned on.

There I was, lying in bed, and there was my sister standing naked in front of me. Her toned body. Her long legs. Her perfectly smooth pussy. I just stared at her, stunned by the sight of such a perfect woman standing naked in my bedroom.

Then she glared at me.

“I can't fucking believe this. Seriously. And just so you know, what's about to happen is your fault. You don't talk to your sister like that.” I assume she was referring to breakfast. Somehow the conversation had turned to how impossible she thought it was to meet guys, and I'd jokingly told her:

“Meg, for what you're looking for, you don't need a guy. A sister will do just fine.”

It was a joke—or at least I'd said it like one. What I meant was that if all she wanted was sex, well, I was right there.

After I said it, she'd glared at me and gone to her room. I hadn't thought much of it because by then she seemed conflicted rather than genuinely angry with me. Ever since I realized that her real problem wasn't the idea of me eating her pussy but the fact that she thought I was joking about wanting to, I'd become much more direct.

So there she was, telling me you didn't speak to your sister that way. She marched toward the bed, snatched the book out of my hands, threw it against the wall, climbed over me, and sat directly on my face with her pussy pressed against my mouth.

There I was, flat on my back, with my sister kneeling over my face.

I'm not going to lie. She completely caught me by surprise. I hadn't expected it at all.

But I wasn't about to waste the opportunity.

I grabbed her legs, stuck out my tongue, and started licking her pussy while she glared down at me.

To my surprise, Megan said:

“You like that? Huh? You like it? This is what happens when you play with fire, little sis. You get burned. This is what happens when you think you're so clever. You end up doing things you don't want to do.” she sounded half angry and, now, maybe a little turned on.

I couldn't exactly answer. My tongue was busy.

The first few seconds—or maybe the first few minutes—were a little strange. But very quickly I started eating her pussy like there was no tomorrow, and I could feel her gradually relaxing as she began to sigh with pleasure.

“Well, at least you're obedient. I'll give you that.” Then she started moaning.

My sister grew wetter and wetter beneath my tongue. Her moans became louder, and eventually she started moving her hips slightly, almost as if she were slowly fucking my face. I grabbed her ass, and she went quiet for a moment.

It was the best experience of my life.

Seeing my athletic sister's body above me—strong, hard, yet still lean—as she ground her perfect pussy against my face. Meanwhile, I held onto that firm athlete's ass of hers with both hands. If I'd had a hand free, I would've touched myself, but honestly, I'd rather have both hands massaging my sister's glutes.

And just when I thought I couldn't possibly get any hornier, my sister looked down at me after riding my face for a while and moaned:

“That's it. Good little sister. Don't resist. Don't resist.” I can't put into words how turned on that made me.

Apparently, in her head, she was forcing herself on me. She thought she was dominating me while I didn't want it but was submitting anyway.

What she didn't understand was that I'd spent months touching myself while imagining exactly this: her riding my face.

Resist?

I was unbelievably happy.

I'd never eaten a woman's pussy like this before. I'd had a couple of casual experiences with women while I was living in Europe, but an elite American athlete?

Uffff...

I don't know how long I lay there feeling my sister's weight on my face while she rode my mouth and moaned with pleasure. Eventually, though, she stopped talking altogether and just moaned.

Not that I could talk either. I had a pussy in my mouth.

At some point, her moans became louder and more desperate, and then she came.

“Come on, little sis,” she gasped, completely turned on now. “Make an effort. Let's go for number two.”

Effort?

There was no effort involved for me. My sister could do whatever she wanted with me.

After a while, she came a second time.

Then a third.

The best part?

Watching her bite her lower lip at one point, eyes closed as she moaned with pleasure and pressed my head firmly against her pussy.

I'm glad we live alone. I really don't want to imagine the look on our mother's face if she accidentally walked into the bedroom and found one of her daughters riding the other one's face.

Unfortunately, all good things eventually have to end.

After she'd come on my face several times and I'd licked my sister's pussy like a dog, there eventually came a point when she was, understandably, satisfied.

That was when I saw a flicker of guilt in her eyes.

She climbed off me, glared down, and snapped:

“And just so we're clear, this was your fucking fault. If you tell anyone, you'll regret it. And if you ever make one of those jokes again, I'm coming back here and you're going to do the same thing again and again until you learn your lesson.” Then she stormed out and slammed the door.

God, I felt amazing.

I know it's messed up, but I'm serious: best sexual experience of my life.

Afterward, I touched myself while thinking about her. Later, when I went out to the kitchen, I heard my sister crying in her bedroom. I picked up my phone and saw that she'd sent me a message:

“I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me. Please forgive me.” I felt terrible for her, because in her mind she'd taken advantage of me.

So I wrote back:

“Megan, I loved it. You're the best sister in the world. I know you think all those hints I've been dropping for the last few months about wanting to eat your pussy were me making fun of you, but they weren't. I love you. You're the best sister in the world, and you turn me on so much. You can come into my room whenever you want and ride my face again, because we're sisters, and that's what sisters are for—taking care of each other.”

The notification showed that she'd read it, but she didn't reply.

The rest of the day passed, and I saw her again at dinner.

I was already eating when she appeared. She looked shaken and didn't say anything at first, but I started making conversation. After an awkward silence, little by little she went back to being herself, and so did I.

We didn't talk about what had happened.

But God, she's beautiful. That blonde ponytail. That perfect diva face.

Before going to bed, she came up behind me, gave me a hug, and left.

We still didn't talk about it.

I genuinely don't know whether it'll happen again.

Knowing her, I think it probably will. And if it doesn't, maybe I'll push her a little, though I don't want to be too persistent. Having your sister ride your face every now and then is great; I don't need it to become an everyday thing.

So I'm going to give her some time.

As for how this is going to affect my relationship with my sister, obviously I have no idea. But I hope she keeps being the ridiculously self-important diva she already is. I don't want romance. I just want her to use me.

Personally, I really like being the disposable sex toy of a woman as hot as she is, but I want zero romance. I hate romance.

What I do like—a lot—is the idea of my athletic, sporty, model sister using me every now and then.

Let's see how long this new phase between us lasts.