Andrew Graves had an addiction. It wasn't to his cigarettes, though his girlfriend would likely insist he was hooked on those. Nor was it to drugs or alcohol, since he rarely touched a drink. No, his addiction ran deeper, a fierce grip that seized his soul and refused to release him. It dragged him down into a spiral of depravity, relentless and consuming. His vice stood four and a half feet tall, weighed eighty-some pounds, and clung to him like an anchor plunging into dark waters. Two eyes gleamed like pink diamonds, paired with a cute smile that masked very adult intentions. She was a chaotic gremlin with scraped knees, hair perpetually tangled from neglect, and kisses that carried the sharp tang of mint toothpaste.
She was his secret love, his joy, his pain, his lust, his anguish. She warmed him like a fire yet threatened to consume him entirely. She was his sister, Ashley, known as Leyley, who was eleven years old.
Andrew had already turned eleven when his mom announced they were expecting a baby. The news baffled him; he hadn't even known they were trying. After Leyley's birth, life unraveled fast. Dad lost his job, Mom took on double shifts to keep a roof over their heads, and Dad sank into a pit of depression. That left Andrew to raise her, though he barely knew where to start. While other kids rode bikes or played video games, Andrew learned to change diapers, mix formula, and rock a fussy infant to sleep to steal a few moments of rest. At two, she couldn't say "Ashley" properly. It came out as "Lay-Lay," and the nickname stuck.
As the years passed, Leyley latched onto Andrew more than anyone else in the family. She became his shadow, trailing him around their cramped apartment day after day, even as he grew into his teens. To outsiders, their bond seemed unusual. Leyley perched on his lap constantly, even in dresses, and while most sisters pecked their brothers on the cheek, she always aimed for his lips. Andrew brushed it off as her being clingy. He didn't dwell on it. The day everything changed arrived when Andrew finally moved out. After twenty-one years in his parents' home, he stood ready to start fresh on his own. Leyley, his eleven-year-old sister, didn't take it well. She wrapped herself around his leg, tears streaking her face, begging him not to abandon her. Andrew had one foot out the door when their mom piped up with an idea. What if Leyley spent the weekend at his new place, a little sleepover to soften the blow? He balked at first, unease prickling his gut, but their mother's persistence and Leyley's desperate pleas wore him down. He gave in.
The first hint of trouble came when Leyley "forgot" her pajamas. She ended up in one of his old t-shirts, the fabric drowning her small frame, paired with just her panties underneath. Then she refused the couch, insisting on sleeping in his bed instead. She claimed it was like the old days when nightmares sent her scurrying to him for comfort. Andrew didn't want the fight. Her tantrums were relentless, a force of nature he'd never outlast, so he agreed. She could share the bed. He fell asleep with her curled into a tight ball, her back to him, a safe distance between them. But sometime in the night, he woke with a start, heart pounding, body tense. She'd shed the shirt, and now she pressed against him, her small form rubbing through her panties over his crotch with a quiet, unsettling urgency. Andrew's mind screamed at him to act. He wanted to shout, to order her to get away, to dress herself and retreat to the couch. He longed to declare the sleepover over, to send her back to their parents' apartment at first light.
But he didn't.
He stayed silent, neither stopping nor urging her on. He lay on his side, frozen, as her small, firm backside pressed against the bulge in his sweatpants. Soft gasps slipped from her lips, sweet and unsteady. Her movements lacked rhythm, a frantic, chaotic grind. His hands moved before he could think, trembling as they reached out to grasp her narrow hips. Leyley squeaked in surprise, squirming to break free, her voice tumbling with frantic apologies for waking him. But he tightened his grip, holding her in place.
"No, Leyley," he murmured, his voice low and gentle. "Your rhythm's off. Here…"
He took control, guiding her with his larger hands on her slender waist, steadying her motions as she rubbed against him. That night, he surrendered to urges he hadn't known lurking within him. He didn't fuck her that night, too afraid of hurting her fragile frame, so he slid a single finger inside her instead. Even that felt impossibly tight, but she unraveled in his arms, trembling hard as her first orgasm shook her small body. He didn't cum, yet the guilt crashed over him anyway, heavy and unrelenting. He vowed it would be a one-time lapse, a line he'd never cross again.
That resolve crumbled in less than twelve hours. The next morning, as he fumbled with breakfast in the kitchen, Leyley wandered out from his bedroom. She wore nothing but black ankle socks, her pale skin stark against the dark fabric hugging her tiny feet. Her body was a delicate sketch of youth—slender legs barely thickened by muscle, knobby knees still rough from childhood scrapes, and hips so narrow they seemed to vanish into her frame. Her flat chest bore the faintest hint of ribs beneath taut skin, her collarbones sharp and fragile like a bird's wings. A tangle of unbrushed hair sat messily on her head, her every step a quiet defiance. Whatever willpower he'd clung to dissolved at the sight. He lifted her onto the kitchen table, her slight weight barely registering in his hands, and sank his face between her thin legs. He kissed and tasted her, probing her slick girlhood with care until she turned into a whimpering wreck, shuddering fiercely as she came against his mouth.
That Saturday unfolded in bed, a tangle of exploration between their bodies. Leyley brimmed with curiosity, eager to learn, and Andrew found himself all too willing to teach. Julia's calls buzzed throughout the day, but he ignored each one, letting them slip to voicemail. He couldn't tear himself from Leyley, couldn't stop tracing her petite frame with his lips. He kissed her from head to toe, leaving no inch of her skin untouched. One moment, they chatted idly, hands roaming over each other's bare forms; the next, he taught her how to suck his cock. Her small lips could only take the tip, but her fierce determination drove her on. She bobbed her tiny head with effort, each eager suck sending jolts through Andrew's core. His body tensed, a warning tightening in his gut. As tempting as it was to let her try to see if she could swallow it all, he couldn't bring himself to overwhelm her. He tapped the back of her head gently. She pulled away, switching to her hand as he'd shown her, stroking him with focus. With a deep growl, he erupted, one of the fiercest orgasms of his life surging through him. Thick spurts shot into the air, raining back down onto her small hand and his shaft.
"That's a lot…" Leyley murmured, her wide eyes locked on the sticky mess.
"Y-yeah," Andrew panted, catching his breath. "That's what happens when I'm with a pretty girl." Her face lit up, a toothy grin spreading across her scarlet cheeks at the praise.
"Can I taste your stuff?" she asked, peering at her hand, still slick with his seed and curled around his softening length.
"Go ahead, but don't expect a treat. Girls say it's bitter as hell. It's cum, Leyley," he replied, voice husky.
"Right, cum, got it! Can't be worse than Mom's nasty lasagna," she said with a shrug. She peeled her fingers from him, lifting one to her lips. Her tongue darted out, sampling a quick lick, and her face twisted in a sharp scowl. "Ugh, no way! It's like salty battery acid, way grosser than lasagna."
"Told you it's an acquired taste," Andrew chuckled, grabbing his boxers from the floor and tossing them to her. "Wipe that off, then get over here. I need your sweet little body in my arms."
Saturday slipped away in a blur of intimacy, the new lovers lost in each other's touch, coaxing climax after climax until they were spent. By Sunday, a quiet unease settled between the siblings-turned-lovers. Leyley would have to return to their parents' apartment that evening, with school looming the next day. Renee hadn't specified when she'd arrive to pick her up, leaving the air thick with tension as they lay naked in bed. Neither had bothered with clothes since late Friday night, their bare skin pressed close under the sheets.
"I don't want to leave," Leyley pouted, her small hands clutching his chest as he threaded his fingers through her tangled hair. "I like it here with you."
"I love having you here too," Andrew sighed, his voice heavy. "We'll figure out a way to get you back often. Maybe we can convince Mom to let you stay all summer?"
"I'd love that! So much!" Leyley's eyes brightened with hope. His hand, massive against her slight frame, slid from the base of her neck down to her firm little butt, squeezing it playfully whenever it lingered there. She sighed, content, her eyes fluttering shut.
"Andy?" she murmured after a pause, her voice soft but firm. "I'm ready."
"Hmm?" He twirled a strand of her hair around his finger, distracted. "Ready for what?"
"All of it!" she declared, her tone fierce with resolve. "I want you inside me. I'm ready. I can take it."
Andrew propped himself up, his sudden erection betraying the worry knotting his gut over her safety. "Leyley, we just got to two fingers. I'm not sure you're stretched enough for my cock yet," he said, brushing her cheek gently. Her pink eyes gleamed with stubborn focus, a bold smirk curling her lips.
"I'm so ready! I can handle it, Andy!"
"You know it hurts the first time, right? Even for grown-ups, let alone a tiny thing like you," he said, his voice low and careful.
"I've got an idea," she replied, her cheeks flushing pink. "If it hurts too much, I'll tell you to stop, okay? But if I don't say a word, you keep fucking me." The last scraps of Andrew's decency roared at him to refuse, but her eager gaze, her bare, delicate body, and the throbbing ache in his groin drowned them out.
"On your back, baby," he rasped, his voice thick with surrender. Leyley nodded eagerly, settling into the center of the bed. She spread her skinny legs wide, offering herself to him with unguarded trust. What followed felt like a fevered haze, Andrew barely grasping the reality unfolding before his eyes.
She was tight—God, so tight—it felt like her body might snap him in two as he eased in slowly. He relied on her silent signals to gauge her, pausing when her gasps sharpened or her whimpers grew too loud, pressing on only when she quieted or gave a faint nod. It stretched on like hours, each careful inch a test of patience. Leyley bore it with grit, her small hands fisting the sheets in a white-knuckled grip, her smooth frame twitching faintly, tears glinting in her eyes. Yet she pushed through, never once telling him to stop. She craved this—craved him.
With a final, steady thrust, he buried himself fully inside her, their hips pressed flush, every pulsing inch of his cock swallowed by her tender girlhood. Leyley gasped hard, her shoulders and back arching off the bed, dragging the sheets with her. Her teeth clenched, jaw tight, as a searing heat ripped through her. Andrew held still, hands rubbing her hips to ease her down, letting her adjust to his thick length as he claimed her virginity on that hushed Sunday morning. He started slow, barely shifting his hips, his cock nudging inside her with the lightest of thrusts. Her tiny pussy gripped him like a vice, unyielding at first, and he watched her face for every flicker of pain.
"Tell me if it's too much, Leyley," he murmured, voice hoarse with restraint. She nodded, biting her lip, her breath hitching. He kept it cautious, inching back and forth, feeling her walls tremble around him. Gradually, he picked up speed, tiny increments at a time, as her body began to soften, her tightness easing just enough to let him move. Her gasps of strain softened, melting into quiet mewls, her clenched jaw loosening. He slid his hands under her hips, lifting her small butt to rest on his thighs. Her shoulders and back sank to the sheets, her skinny legs dangling over his, opening her wider.
"Feel good yet, baby?" he rasped, his cock sliding deeper with each slow thrust. She whimpered a soft "yeah," her voice shaky but sure, her pink eyes half-lidded with something new, pleasure edging out the pain. He gripped her hips tighter, pulling her into him as he gained speed, still careful but steady, her little body rocking beneath him, her mewls growing sweeter with every stroke. The rest blurred into a haze for Andrew, his mind struggling to anchor itself amid the storm he'd unleashed. His thrusts turned frantic, Leyley's cries rising sharp and wild, passion swallowing them both. He drowned in her, lost to her small, trembling body. Sweat glistened on his brow, his ragged gasps syncing with her piercing shrieks. Something feral clawed awake inside him, beyond his grip.
"Andy… I'm gonna come again…" she whimpered, her voice cracking like glass. His rhythm snapped primal, her groans stuttering as his balls smacked her tiny ass. "Andy, Andy, Anddddyyyyy!" she wailed, her climax tearing through her fragile frame, a shockwave ripping across her nerves. Her pussy, already impossibly tight, clamped down harder, milking his cock until an earth-shaking orgasm ripped from him. He pumped her full, shot after shot of thick, hot cum flooding her depths.Leyley quivered beneath him, the strange warmth of it soothing her despite its alien sting. Andrew finished, bracing himself on shaking arms above her, chest heaving as he gulped air. She lay spent, one foot twitching, her body grappling with the chaos he'd wrought.
"You okay, baby?" he gasped, voice raw. She nodded mutely, throat too wrecked to speak, feeling his seed spill where their bodies still joined. He leaned in, careful not to crush her, and claimed her mouth in a deep, soul-searing kiss, his tongue pushing hers back to taste her fully. When he slid out, Leyley gasped at the sudden void, more of his cum trickling free now that he'd unplugged her.
"You were fucking incredible," he murmured, pulling her head to his chest, fingers stroking her back.
"B-better… than… Julia?" she rasped, voice barely a thread. Andrew bit his lip. No point in lying after all this. "Yeah. She's never drained me like you just did."
Their quiet moment shattered when Renee's ringtone blared. Andrew lunged across the room, sweaty hands fumbling his phone off the dresser, nearly dropping it before swiping to answer. "H-Hello?" he panted.
"Andrew?" Renee's voice tilted with confusion. "Why do you sound like you just ran a damn marathon?"
"Oh, uh… Leyley wanted to play tag," he huffed, gasping for air. "She's a relentless little shit."
"I see. Well, I'm on my way to grab her. Ten minutes. Get her packed and ready, okay?"
"Y-yeah, Mom, she'll be set," he said, eyes darting to Leyley, wide with panic. "See you soon!" He hung up and sprang into chaos, yanking on jeans, skipping boxers, tugging on a crumpled tee. He half-carried Leyley to the bathroom, her legs wobbling like a fawn's, urging her to clean up fast before Renee arrived. It was a mad scramble, snapping her overalls' last suspender just as the doorbell chimed. Hidden from Renee's view, they stole one final, desperate kiss, a vow whispered against her lips to reignite this forbidden fire the moment they could.
Andrew waved off Leyley's flushed cheeks and wobbly steps with a quick excuse. "I got a little rough with her during some horseplay," he told Renee, his voice steady enough to sell it. It wasn't exactly a lie. The siblings locked eyes one final time, a silent spark passing between them before she slipped out the door with their mom. Alone now, Andrew stumbled to the couch and collapsed, his gaze fixed on the ceiling.
"What the fuck have I done?" he groaned, voice breaking as the weight of it all crashed down.
Three agonizing weeks dragged on since that weekend of reckless abandon. Andrew threw himself into his assistant manager gig at Blurnes and Roble bookstore, stacking shelves and dodging thoughts. He kept Leyley at arm's length, replying to her texts with curt, clipped words. It wasn't about ignoring her—he just needed space to untangle the mess in his head, to figure out what he'd done and where the hell he went from there.
Julia was livid he'd ghosted her that whole weekend. He muttered a flimsy excuse about dropping his phone in the sink and letting it dry in rice. She bought it, or at least didn't push, and that storm passed—for now.
But Leyley? Her image haunted him. That perfect, naked little body burned into his brain, her tight pussy squeezing him, her flat nipples under his fingers. Those memories clung to him, fueling late-night frenzies where he'd jerk off hard, chasing the high, only to crash into soul-crushing guilt when the haze cleared. He didn't know what to do. Even sex with Julia, lukewarm at its best, turned bitter now. Nothing stacked up to Leyley's fire. He was a wreck, torn between the ache in his chest and the rules of the world pressing down. Not a praying man, he still whispered into the void for a sign, anything to point the way. Then, as if on cue, Renee's ringtone jolted his phone to life.
"Hey, Andrew," she said, voice casual. "Your dad won tickets for an island-hopping Caribbean cruise. We were wondering if you'd watch Ashley while we're gone. Just a week."
"Yeah, Mom, I've got her," he replied, a grin tugging his lips. "No problem."
His answer had found him.
"—and she has to be in bed by eight, got it? Don't let her sweet-talk you into staying up late, or she'll be a zombie for school," Renee said at the door, gripping her suitcase handle.
"This isn't my first rodeo, Mom," Andrew replied, leaning against the frame. "I've got all her tricks figured out."
"Oh, and no overloading her with sweets before bed," Douglas added, adjusting his cap. "It gives her nightmares."
"I'll make damn sure she sleeps like a dream," Andrew said, a smirk tugging his lips. Leyley's giggle drifted from the TV, but their parents didn't catch it, too busy with their goodbyes.
"Cell reception might be spotty mid-ocean, but try us if you need anything. Have fun, okay?" Renee said.
"We'll have a blast, Mom, promise," Andrew grinned. Hugs and kisses followed, and then Renee and Douglas rolled off for their island escape, leaving the siblings behind. Andrew lingered at the window, watching their cab shrink to a speck before turning to Leyley with a devilish glint. "So, how do we kill the time, huh?"
He didn't know where Leyley had been honing her kissing, but she'd leveled up in those three weeks apart. Straddling his lap, her technique was still a little messy—tongue and lips clashing with his in eager bursts—but the raw devotion in each sloppy kiss hit him hard.
"Thought you were pissed at me," she mumbled between presses, her breath warm on his mouth. "You barely texted back."
"Just needed to clear my head," he said, hands sliding down to grip her tight little ass through her overalls, squeezing firm. "Had to figure out what I wanted."
"And what's that?" she pressed, eyes locked on his.
"You," he said, voice low and flat, yanking her into a deeper, hungrier kiss. The barriers between them had to go, he craved her bare skin, that prepubescent perfection he couldn't shake. "Lean back, baby," he murmured, popping her left strap, then the right, letting the denim flop to her waist. "Arms up," he coaxed, voice thick with want. She raised them eagerly, and he peeled off her shirt, breath hitching at her flat chest—pale, smooth, irresistible. He dove in, tongue swirling over her left nipple, feeling it perk under his touch. Leyley moaned, soft and sweet, her fingers tangling in his hair as he fed on her.
"Gotta see all of you," he rasped, tugging at the overalls bunched around her hips. She lifted slightly, letting him slide them down her skinny legs, the denim pooling at her ankles. He hooked his fingers into her panties—simple white cotton, snug against her—and dragged them off too, leaving her bare except for those black ankle socks clinging to her tiny feet. He paused, eyes raking over her, drinking in every inch. Her body was a delicate canvas—slender thighs barely touched by muscle, sharp hipbones jutting under taut skin, and that flat chest, untouched and pure, glowing pale in the dim light. The socks, wrinkled and slightly stretched, made her look absurdly cute, a flicker of innocence against the raw hunger clawing at him.
"Fuck, you're perfect," he uttered, voice rough with awe.
He pulled her back into his lap, her slight weight settling against him, legs dangling over his thighs. One hand drifted up, fingers brushing her chest, teasing those little nipples until they stiffened again under his touch—small, pink buds tightening with each slow circle. His other hand slipped between her legs, finding her little pussy, warm and soft against his fingertips. He traced her gently at first, feeling her twitch, then pressed a finger inside, slow and deliberate, her tightness gripping him like a promise. "So fucking tight for me," he whispered, lips grazing her ear as he rubbed her clit with his thumb, slickness building under his strokes. Leyley's breath hitched, a shaky moan spilling out, her hips squirming against his hand. Her skin flushed hot, a sheen of sweat glistening on her collarbone, and those socks shifted as her toes curled, the fabric bunching adorably. He worked her steadily, savoring every shudder, every soft cry, lost in the feel of her unraveling for him.
His fingers pressed deeper now, sliding past that initial resistance, her slick heat swallowing him inch by inch. Leyley squirmed harder, her small body twisting in his lap, overstimulation sparking through her like wildfire. Her breaths came fast, jagged little gasps, her skinny legs kicking faintly against his thighs. He wrapped his free arm around her waist, firm and steady, pinning her against his chest. "Shh, baby, just relax," he murmured into her ear, voice low and rough. "Let me make that tight little pussy feel good." His lips brushed her lobe, hot breath teasing her skin as he sank his fingers even deeper, curling them slightly to stroke her inside. Her whimpers pitched higher, a mix of strain and surrender, but he held her close, unrelenting.
His other hand stayed at her chest, thumb, and forefinger catching one flat, pink nipple, rolling it slow and firm. The tiny bud hardened more under his pinch, a sharp contrast to her soft skin, and she arched into his touch, a needy mewl escaping her lips.
"That's it, Leyley," he rasped, nuzzling her neck. "Just take it all for me." Her squirming eased into trembles, her body melting against him as the pleasure overtook the sting. Sweat beaded on her brow, her tangled hair sticking to her flushed cheeks, and those ankle socks slid down a bit, exposing the pale curve of her ankles. He kept his rhythm, fingers plunging deep, thumb circling her clit, driving her toward that edge with every tender, possessive touch.
Leyley squirmed harder, her small body twisting in his lap, overstimulation sparking through her like wildfire. Her breaths came fast, jagged little gasps, her skinny legs kicking faintly against his thighs. He wrapped his free arm around her waist, firm and steady, pinning her against his chest. "Shh, baby, just relax," he murmured into her ear, voice low and rough. "Let me make that tight little pussy feel good." His lips brushed her lobe, hot breath teasing her skin as he sank his fingers even deeper, curling them slightly to stroke her inside. Her whimpers pitched higher, a mix of strain and surrender, but he held her close, unrelenting. His other hand stayed at her chest, thumb, and forefinger catching one flat, pink nipple, rolling it slow and firm. The tiny bud hardened more under his pinch, and she arched into his touch, a needy mewl escaping her lips. "That's it, Leyley," he rasped, nuzzling her neck. "Just take it all for me." Her squirming eased into trembles, her body melting against him as pleasure overtook the sting.
But he didn't want her tipping over yet. Not like this. He slowed his rhythm, then slipped his fingers free, her tight grip clinging 'til the last second. Leyley whined a pouty whimper of disappointment, her hips bucking faintly as if chasing his touch. "Not yet, baby," he chuckled, dark and low, lifting his slick fingers to her lips. "Taste how fucking sweet you are." She hesitated, then parted her mouth, sucking them in slow, her tongue swirling over his skin. Her pink eyes flicked up to his, hazy with want, and he groaned softly, feeling her little licks clean him off.
Andrew shifted back on the couch, sinking into the cushions, then grabbed her hips with both hands. "Up you go," he said, voice thick, lifting her light frame until she stood wobbly on the couch, those black ankle socks scrunching under her toes. "Turn around for me." She obeyed, her back to him now, bare except for those socks he couldn't get enough of. Carefully, he bent her forward, hands steady on her hips to keep her from tumbling off. Her skinny legs trembled, her small ass tilting up as she braced her hands on the cushion ahead. He spread her thighs just enough, then buried his face between them, lips and tongue diving into her tight cunny. She was dripping, warm, and so damn small against his mouth—he lapped at her deep, tongue probing her folds, tasting her raw sweetness. Leyley's jaw dropped, a deep, throaty moan spilling out, her whole body going slack under the onslaught. This angle let him sink in further, his tongue curling inside her girlhood, teasing out every shudder, every gasp, as she melted into his grip.
She didn't last long—couldn't, not with his tongue plunging so deep. The stimulation hit her like a tidal wave, and with a shuddering cry, she came undone, her innocent juices soaking his face in a hot, trembling rush. Her knees buckled, her body collapsing forward, but he caught her fast, arms hooking under her hips before she could hit the couch. He didn't stop, though, not yet, his lips and tongue relentless, lapping at her pulsing cunny untiil she shuddered again, a weak whimper escaping her slack jaw. Only then did he pull back, her slickness glistening on his chin, her tiny frame limp in his hold.
He figured she'd want to curl up now, catch her breath against him. But Leyley's pink eyes, glassy and wild, locked onto his, her flat chest heaving as she gasped for air. "More," she begged, voice breathless and raw. "I need you inside me again, Andy, fuck, I feel so empty without your cock." The words jolted him, his erection straining hard against his jeans. Scooping her tiny, naked body into his arms—those ankle socks dangling adorably—he carried her across the apartment, her slight weight pressed to his chest. He pushed open the door to their old room, now just hers, and laid her down on the bed, her pale skin stark against the rumpled sheets. Stepping back, he yanked his shirt over his head, fingers fumbling at his belt, eyes never leaving her as he started to strip.
Andrew shed his clothes in a rush, jeans and all hitting the floor, leaving him bare. His cock stood harder than it had those weeks ago, thick and rigid, pulsing with need. Leyley's eyes widened, a faint whimper slipping out at its size and girth, but she spread her skinny legs anyway, socks shifting as her toes flexed. "Fuck, Andy, it's so big," she breathed, voice shaky yet eager, her pink gaze locked on him, ready for the challenge.
He climbed onto the bed, hovering over her, one hand guiding himself to her entrance. "Gonna fill you up, baby," he groaned, pushing in slow, her cunny lips parting tight around his manhood. She felt even smaller than before, her heat squeezing him like a vise, but there was less fight this time—her body yielding smoother, slick from her earlier release. Leyley's groan rumbled low, half-pain, half-want, as he sank deeper, inch by inch. Before long, he was buried completely, hips flush against hers, every throbbing bit of him swallowed by her girlhood. He swallowed her next groan with a kiss, tongue plunging into her mouth, tangling with hers in a messy, needy dance as he held still, letting her adjust to his thick length splitting her open. But this time, Andrew couldn't wait. The ache for his eleven-year-old sister burned too hot, those twisted urges drowning out reason. He started slowly, pulling back just enough to thrust in again, watching her tiny body shift on the sheets—her flat chest rising, her skinny legs twitching, those ankle socks bunching as she moved.
"Fuck, Leyley, you're so tight," he growled, voice thick with strain, eyes fixed on her pink gaze widening with each push. She was hot, wet, ridiculous, a slick little grip that frayed his control. His pace quickened, hips snapping harder, the bed creaking under them as he fucked her deeper, stretching her out. Leyley's moans sharpened, her small frame jolting with every thrust, her stuffed animals—bears and bunnies—staring blankly from the shelf, silent witnesses to their sin.
Her cunny clenched around his cock, pulling a guttural groan from him, and he lost it—thrusting wild now, driven by the heat of her, the wrongness of it only fueling him more.
"Take it, baby," he rasped, one hand gripping her hip, the other braced beside her head. Leyley's pink eyes flared wide, glassy with shock and something darker, her lips parted as she gasped beneath him, stretched and trembling but meeting every move with her own desperate need.
Whatever guilt or conflict Andrew had wrestled with vanished, swallowed by the moment. He pounded her into the twin bed, springs squealing under the strain—not built for this kind of fury. The frame rattled, threatening to snap, as he drove into her tight, hot core, her tiny body jolting with each slam.
"Fuck, you're mine," he snarled, sweat dripping from his brow, his rhythm relentless. Leyley's moans turned ragged, her small hands clawing at the sheets, surrounded by her stuffed animals, teddies and rabbits, watching blankly from their perch.
It wasn't enough. He needed more.
Grabbing her hips with both hands, he yanked her up, flipping her to straddle his lap. "Bounce for me," he growled, but he didn't wait—gripping her tight, he lifted and dropped her onto his cock, using her like a doll. Her prepubescent ass slapped against his thighs, loud and wet, her flat chest gleaming with sweat as she flailed in his hold. Leyley's head lolled, eyes crossing, tongue slipping past her lips in a daze, barely coherent as he fucked her senselessly. "Can't—Andy—fuck," she slurred, voice breaking, her body a trembling rag in his hands, completely his.
He bounced her harder now, relentless, her tiny frame no longer her own; arms dangling limply at her sides, lost in a flood of raw pleasure. Andrew groaned deep, using her like a Fleshlight, her tight cunny swallowing him with every slam. "You're fucking mine, Leyley," he snarled, voice thick with need. "No one else gets you—my girl now, only my cock fills you." His words spilled out, possessive and unhinged, as he gripped her hips bruisingly tight, driving her down harder. Leyley couldn't speak, just whimpered fragments—"A—n—dy"—her mind gone, pink eyes glazed over.
Then he lifted her high, till just the tip teased her entrance, and slammed her down with a thunderous clap, her ass smacking his thighs. His climax hit twice as fierce as when he'd taken her virginity, a flood of cum bursting into her—thick, absurd, leaking out around his cock as he filled her beyond capacity. Leyley's body seized, a shuddering cry ripping from her throat, her orgasm crashing harder than she could bear. Her tiny frame quaked in his arms, flat chest heaving, sweat-slick, and trembling as he held her close, anchoring her through the waves tearing her apart.
Andrew's breath steadied as he came down, his hands sliding up to stroke her shoulders and back, fingers tracing gentle lines over her damp skin. Leyley panted hard, her flat chest rising and falling fast, a faint whimper slipping out as she recovered from the grown-up rush that had ripped through her. Cum leaked from her tight cunny, a warm, sticky mess dribbling down her skinny thighs, pooling on the sheets beneath them. He pressed a soft kiss to her sweaty forehead, tasting the salt of her exertion.
"Fuck, Leyley, you did so good," he murmured, voice low and proud, nuzzling her hair. "I'm so damn proud of you, taking me like that." She shivered under his touch, pink eyes half-lidded, still glassy from the overload. He glanced down at the slick mess between her legs, a silent thank-you flickering in his mind—she was too young to get pregnant, her body safe from that risk. "Goddamn blessing you're still a kid," he whispered, more to himself, "this pussy's too fucking tight for a condom." His fingers lingered on her back, soothing her as she nestled closer, her breathing slowing, her small form curling into his warmth.
For ten quiet minutes, they lay tangled, his hands roaming her back and shoulders, occasionally dipping to squeeze her preteen butt, firm and small in his grip. Leyley nestled into his chest, her breathing slowing, those black ankle socks still hugging her feet. Then she spoke, voice soft and hoarse from the squeals she'd let loose. "Andy," she rasped, "thanks for making me feel so pretty. I've never felt this good...ever." She paused, swallowing hard. "Not sure I can handle another round tonight, though."
He chuckled, warm and low, tilting her chin up to kiss her lips, a slow press with just a flick of the tongue, tasting her lingering sweetness. "That's fine, baby," he said, pulling back with a grin. "We'll hop in the shower together, get you nice and clean, then throw on some PJs. How's pizza and Monster High sound? Couch cuddles all night." Her eyes lit up, a tired smile tugging her mouth. "Only the best," he added, brushing her hair back, "for my new girlfriend."
The shower steamed up fast, a playful haze as he guided her under the spray. No penetration, he didn't want her wincing more than she already might, but it was still sexy as hell. He lathered her up, hands gliding over her flat chest, thumbs brushing those pink nipples until she giggled and squirmed. "Fuck, you're cute," he teased, rinsing her off, then let her soap his back, her small fingers clumsy but eager. They kissed under the water, slow and slick, tongues tangling just enough to keep the heat alive. When they stepped out, wrapped in towels, her cheeks were flushed, and he couldn't resist one last squeeze of her damp little ass before they dressed.
He ordered pizza, pepperoni, her favorite, and hours later, they sprawled on the couch in their PJs. Leyley's pink flannel hugged her tiny frame, the sleeves too long, making her look even smaller curled up in a ball on his chest. The Monster High credits rolled, the TV glow flickering over them as she slept soundly, soft breaths puffing against his shirt. Andrew stroked her hair, fingers threading through the messy strands, marveling at how peaceful she looked, how beautiful, how his. "My perfect girl, my Leyley" he murmured, voice barely a whisper, a quiet thrill humming in his chest. Admitting his love for his eleven-year-old sister had unshackled him—guilt gone, replaced by a raw, steady calm. He pressed a gentle kiss to her head, settling back, finally whole