In the quaint French countryside, where vineyards stretched under the moonlit sky, lived Etienne and his sister, Isabelle. Both in their mid-twenties, they had grown up in the same sprawling estate, but life had pulled them apart—Etienne to Paris for business, Isabelle staying behind to manage the family winery. Now, with their parents away on a long vacation, Etienne returned home, his muscular European frame tanned from city adventures, his eyes carrying a dangerous glint of unspoken desires.
Isabelle, with her lithe, curvaceous body—skin as smooth as fine porcelain, breasts full and firm with pale pink areolas, labia plump and tender, and a tight, warm vagina that promised forbidden ecstasy—greeted him with a hug that lingered too long. The air between them crackled with taboo tension, a dangerous seduction that had simmered since their teenage years.
That first night, in the dimly lit bedroom, Etienne couldn’t resist. ‘Isabelle, we’ve danced around this for too long,’ he whispered, his voice husky with illicit hunger. She bit her lip, her emerald eyes flashing with a mix of fear and excitement. ‘Brother, this is wrong… but I want it.’
He pulled her close, their lips meeting in a fervent kiss. The taste of her was sweet and salty, like ripe grapes mixed with desire. His hands roamed her body, feeling the warmth of her silky skin, the firmness of her breasts pressing against his chest. She moaned softly, the sound vibrating through him like a siren’s call.
Etienne stripped her slowly, revealing her naked form under the moonlight filtering through the window—curves glistening like dew on petals. Her scent, a musky floral aroma, filled his nostrils. He knelt, his tongue tracing her inner thighs, tasting the salty tang of her arousal. Her labia parted under his touch, plump and pink, her clit swelling like a budding rose.
His cock hardened, veins bulging along its thick shaft, the purple-red head glistening with pre-cum. ‘Feel how much I need you, sister,’ he growled. Isabelle’s hand wrapped around it, stroking the hot, throbbing length, her touch sending shivers through him.
For their first union, he positioned her on the bed, entering from behind in a doggy style. The foreplay built slowly—kisses turning to licks, fingers exploring her wet folds. ‘Etienne, please… take me,’ she begged, her voice laced with taboo thrill.
He teased her entrance with his tip, the slick warmth enveloping him inch by inch. The insertion was agonizingly slow, her tight vagina swallowing him, inner walls wrinkling and gripping like velvet gloves. Friction built as he thrust deeper, her wetness slurping with each movement. He hit her cervix, a deep, pounding sensation, then pushed further, feeling the illusory depth of entering her womb—a fusion of souls in forbidden bliss.
The rhythm shifted from slow grinds to rapid pistons, flesh slapping wetly, her moans escalating to cries. ‘Oh, brother, deeper!’ she gasped, the air thick with sweat and musk.
High tide approached: her breathing quickened, vagina spasming lightly, love juices flooding. At peak, her body trembled violently, walls contracting like a fist around his cock, squirting fluids in hot spurts. She screamed, muscles tensing then releasing in waves. In the afterglow, her vagina pulsed gently, their mixed essences warm and sticky, a soulful satisfaction washing over them.
They cuddled, whispering sweet taboos, but desire reignited. For the second act, she mounted him face-to-face in cowgirl position. Foreplay resumed with mutual caresses, her tasting his salty skin, him inhaling her aroused scent.
‘Ride me, my forbidden love,’ he urged. She lowered onto his rigid shaft, the slow engulfment exquisite—her saturated folds wrapping him, inner pleats massaging every vein. She rocked, controlling the pace, from teasing circles to fervent bounces, their bodies slapping rhythmically.
Deeper thrusts mimicked womb penetration, a dangerous intimacy. Her climax built: breaths ragged, walls fluttering, then exploding in shudders, contractions milking him fiercely, juices cascading. She wailed, body arching, then collapsing in pulsing aftermath, their scents mingling in erotic haze.
Exhausted yet insatiable, they moved to the bathroom for a shower. Water cascaded over their bodies, steam rising like forbidden mists.
In the third encounter, against the tiled wall from behind, foreplay involved soapy hands gliding over slick skin, her tasting the clean sweat on his neck. ‘Fuck me hard, brother,’ she demanded, the taboo word igniting him.
He entered swiftly, her vagina’s wet heat enveloping him completely, friction intense as he pounded. The depth felt profound, cock seeming to breach her core. Rhythms varied—slow withdrawals to slamming thrusts, water amplifying the wet smacks.
Her orgasm crescendoed: pre-tremors in her core, then full-body quake, vagina clenching like a vice, spraying amid screams. Post-climax, gentle throbs lingered, their essences blending under the warm spray, a final taboo embrace.
As dawn broke, they lay entwined, the dangerous seduction sated for now, but the flames of their sibling secret forever kindled.