From: firstname.lastname@example.org (Frank McCoy)
Subject: **NEW** MYSISTER.TXT 51K "My Little Sisters" (mf, cons, incest, pedo, preg)
Keywords: sex, incest, pedo, pregnant, consensual
My Little Sisters
An Erotic Story
"What do you think you are DOING?!" My mother's voice caught me just as I was cumming.
Luckily, it wasn't one of those times I really squirted hard. Still, I lay there on my bed naked, with white goo flowing out of my prick in satisfying surges that never seemed to stop, until my whole hand was covered with white sticky stuff.
God, how embarrassing. Here, with Mother's previous calm lessons about sex, and how babies were made, and her claim that we should all feel free to express our sexuality, and not be scared to ask either her or Father about sex, I had never figured she would have any hangups about me masturbating. . . at least, as long as I didn't do it in front of my two little sisters that is. I mean, at four and six years old, seeing their 15-year-old brother jack-off; squirting white greasy baby-juice all over the place might be a little too much. Well, it turns out that I had things backwards.
"Carol, Diane, get your butts in here!" Mother's voice held that command-tone that we all knew better than to ignore. I was too shocked to do anything except just lie there with my prick still oozing a last few drops of cum all over my hand. When I reached for the tissue at the side of the bed, Mother gave me such a glare that I stopped; just trying to keep the flow of cum from flowing down my hand, and getting all over the bed.
By this time, my two sisters had arrived, and I felt doubly embarrassed. (Or is that triply?) I mean, being caught jacking- off by my mother was bad enough. Having my two little sisters see me with cum dribbling out of my prick, and running down the side, over my hand, was mortifying. The fact that it was close to bedtime, and both little girls were stark-naked was even more embarrassing. Mother made it even worse.
"Look at you," she said, "dribbling precious sperm all over your hands, when you have two healthy sisters. I'm ashamed of you! Didn't you even ASK?"
Huh? It almost sounded like my mother wanted me to. . . My mind wouldn't stretch that far.
"And YOU two," here Mother rounded on my sisters; aiming most of her ire at Carol. "I'm particularly ashamed of you Carol. I would think that after all those explanations we gave you kids about sex, and how babies were made, that you would at least make some effort to see to it that your big brother didn't waste his seed in some unfeeling tissue."
My little sister looked almost in tears at this accusation. "I'm sorry, Momma," she said.
"Well, I should think you would be," she replied. Mother seemed somewhat mollified by her daughter's response. "Well, it's not really TOO late," she continued, looking at me pointedly. "See that white-stuff coming from your brother's prick?" she asked.
"Uhuh," said Diane. Carol merely nodded.
By now, my prick had wilted to where I could just barely hold it in my fist, but the white puddle at the top seemed even bigger; forming a pool of sticky in the circle of my thumb and forefinger.
"That's Danny's cum, that I told you both about before," said Mother. "In that white stuff are millions of your brother's sperm, the things that make babies in girls like you, just going to waste. Now I want you to do something about that."
"Huh?" said all three of us at once.
"Oh Jeesh! Did I raise a bunch of idiots?" said Mother, rhetorically. "Carol, reach out there, and pick up some of your brother's cum with your finger," she instructed.
As the six-year-old reached out to touch me, Mother turned to our younger sister. "You too," she said.
Damn, it tickled, when first Carol and then Diane each scooped up a gob of white from my hand. I wondered what Mother had in mind. I soon found out.
"Now take it, and push it up inside you, so it doesn't go to waste," she said.
"Huh?" Again, we all looked like idiots. Mother couldn't mean. . .
"In your vaginas; your cunts; your cracks," she explained, exasperatedly. "How else are you going to get pregnant, if you don't?"
"But Momma," objected Carol, "I thought we were too young to get pregnant yet." Diane didn't say a thing. Here eyes were as big as saucers though. That didn't keep either of my sisters from following Mother's instructions though; each one sticking a goo-dribbling finger between her legs, and forcing the digit up inside herself, while Mother explained.
"Of COURSE you're too young," she said. "That doesn't mean you can't practice making a baby with your brother until you ARE old enough, does it?"
"Oh." Even with a limp prick, I almost came again, at the very thought.
"Horse-pucky!" she said; now really annoyed. "Get it ALL the way up inside her," she said. "Now push!"
Momma turned to my little sister. "Now you sit down HARD," she commanded. "You can take a LOT more than that, if you try."
My little sister and I looked at each other, shrugged, and tried. Nothing happened, except Carol gritting her teeth at the slight pain of being too stretched. I could feel a hard lump pressing on the head of my prick, almost painful to me too; but we only gained about another half-inch.
"Chicken-shit gutless kids," said Mother, with disgust. "Here." Mother positioned herself above my little sister, and placed her hands on Carol's shoulders. "Now PUSH," she commanded; daring me to disobey.
I pushed; Carol pushed; and then Mother pushed.
I had thought my prick was as hard as a brick. It wasn't. Under this strain, my prick buckled. The hard knob pressing on the head of my prick pressed even harder; feeling like a rock against the end. Damnit, that hurt!
If it hurt me, it must have REALLY hurt my little sister. "Aaaah!" she said, obviously barely able to keep from screaming, as she was stretched inside.
If anything, this made Mother even MORE determined, and she pushed down even harder yet. I TRIED to push up, but my prick just buckled even more, being painfully pinched in the middle, while the hard-spot in Carol's cunny felt like it was about to poke a hole in the head of my prick. Only it didn't.
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