Me, My Sister, and Frodo- Happy Fucking

In a lonely farmhouse, a shy 14-year-old boy walks in on his older sister and their dog. What starts as shock becomes a shared secret that changes everything.

Disclaimer: Welcome to a world where forbidden desire is the only rule. This story is part of a collection where all lines are meant to be crossed. If you keep reading, you're already on the other side.
Reader discretion is advised.
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A reader named Ash sent me the following experience. I’ve woven it into a story for you to enjoy!

At fourteen, I was a creature of quiet habits and louder, more secret desires. I was the nerdy kid who found solace in the crisp pages of sci-fi novels and the glowing green text of computer code, a world where logic reigned and I was in complete control. I wasn't miserable about it; in fact, I wore my shyness like a comfortable, well-worn jacket. It was a shield. I prided myself on my independence, a skill born from necessity in a house where my presence was often an afterthought.
But that independence did nothing to quell the constant, thrumming hum of adolescent lust that lived under my skin. I was horny all the time, a state of perpetual, low-grade fever. I’d lie in bed at night, my body aching with a need I barely understood, fantasizing about having the courage to just talk to a girl, to flirt, to do anything other than stammer and look at my shoes. Haha. It all seemed like an impossible mountain to climb.
My older sister, Sarah, was my anchor in that lonely sea. At sixteen, she possessed a worldliness that I could only dream of. She was one of the few people I regularly socialized with, not out of obligation, but out of genuine affection. Our parents were ghosts in their own home, drifting through the rooms in a haze of work and indifference, leaving us to fend for ourselves. This neglect, which could have broken us, instead forged an unbreakable bond between us. She was my confidante, my protector, my only true friend.
But beyond that deep, platonic love, a darker, more complicated current flowed. I had always secretly found her to be breathtakingly attractive. She was what the boys at school would cruelly call "big," but to me, she was a masterpiece of soft curves and generous proportions. She was thick in all the right places, her body a landscape of rolling hills and lush valleys. Especially her boobs! They were magnificent, full and heavy, straining against the fabric of her t-shirts in a way that made my mouth go dry. She was a bit of a loner, too, which made her feel like she was mine, a secret treasure I had all to myself.
We grew up in a small rural town in New England, the kind of place where the silence was so profound you could hear your own heartbeat. Our property was an island, surrounded by acres of dense woods and fields where you couldn't see your nearest neighbor's house. With our parents almost never home, the old farmhouse was practically ours. It was a cozy, rambling place that we'd made our own, hanging old blankets and tapestries over the ugly wood paneling to create a more intimate, bohemian feel.
The layout of our house was a bit odd, a fact that would prove to be fateful. Every room, including our parents' bedroom, was on the ground floor. The only rooms upstairs were two little box bedrooms, one for me and one for Sarah, accessible by a steep, creaky staircase. At the top of the stairs, there was a little nook area, a small, awkward space that we'd turned into a cozy reading corner with a beanbag and a lamp. This little nook is where everything happened.
The day it all began was hot and humid, the air thick with the smell of cut grass and impending rain. Our parents had gone out for the day, leaving my sister and me to our own devices. I don't remember why, but Sarah thought I was sleeping over at a friend's house and wouldn't be returning until late.
I got home earlier than expected, my friend's mom having to work a double shift. I came in through the back door, the silence of the house feeling different, heavier. As I began heading upstairs, I heard a sound that didn't belong. It was heavy panting, rhythmic and intense, coming from the nook. My heart hammered against my ribs. I crept up the stairs, my bare feet silent on the worn wood, and peeked through the gap where the blanket didn't quite cover the doorway.
The sight that met my eyes burned itself into my memory. My sister, my sweet, shy Sarah, was on her hands and knees on the beanbag. She was thoroughly distracted, her head bobbing up and down, her lips wrapped around Frodo's shockingly red, pointed cock – our dog. The sheer, unapologetic reality of it hit me like a physical blow. At first, I was paralyzed by shock, my mind screaming that this was wrong, impossible. But that shock was immediately washed away by a tidal wave of pure, unadulterated lust. My own cock, which had been half-hard for most of the day, sprang to full, aching attention.
I lifted the heavy blanket and stepped into the nook, the air thick with the musky scent of sex and dog. My sister froze, her eyes wide with horror. She scrambled to cover herself, a choked sob escaping her throat.
"Oh my god, get out! Please, just get out!" she cried, her face flushing a deep, blotchy red. She was completely naked, and in that moment of panic, she was more beautiful than I had ever imagined. She was a big girl, but she wore it all in the best ways, her body soft and inviting, her skin flushed and glowing.
"I'm not disgusted," I said, my voice barely a whisper, my eyes fixed on her. "I... I think it's hot."
Her expression shifted instantly from terror to disbelief, then to a slow, dawning realization. A small, hesitant smile touched her lips.
"Really?" she breathed, her eyes searching mine. I just nodded, unable to form words. She let out a shaky laugh, the tension in her shoulders visibly relaxing.
"Well then," she said, her voice dropping to a low, husky purr. "Get comfortable. Relax and enjoy the show." She turned away from me and resumed her position on the beanbag, presenting herself to Frodo.
I got completely naked, my clothes a forgotten pile on the floor, and started stroking my already hard member, the skin slick with precum. I was beyond horny and excited, my entire body trembling with anticipation. I honestly don't know why I didn't cum everywhere just then.
I remember both of us laughing as Frodo initially struggled to find his mark, his red cock jabbing blindly at her thighs and ass. But if you know how dogs fuck, you know that laughter doesn't last. Once he found his way in, a guttural gasp tore from my sister's throat.
“Fuck me!”
“I think he is!” I said, getting a glaring look from her, which broke into a smile.
Dogs fuck real rough, a frantic, primal jackhammering that is all about instinct and release. My sister took it like a champ, her body rocking forward with each powerful thrust. Her moans and screams were a mix of both immense pleasure and great pain, a raw, animalistic sound that sent shivers down my spine. All of that only served to elevate this to whole new levels for me, turning me from a voyeur into an active participant in the ritual.
I went under her at one point, wriggling my way between her arms and the beanbag. She scooted back a little, until I was lying on my back, looking up at her. Her breasts, the ones I had always been so enamored with, hung above me, swaying with the force of Frodo's pounding. I couldn't keep my eyes off them. I reached up and took one in my hand, the weight of it incredible, my thumb brushing over the hard, pebbled nipple before I leaned up to take it into my mouth. I sucked and teased her, tasting the salt of her sweat as she moaned above me. When she came during his pounding, her entire body convulsed, her back arching violently as a scream ripped from her throat. It was almost like a small seizure, a total loss of control that was terrifying and beautiful to witness.
After she and Frodo unkotted, his knot shrinking and slipping out of her with a wet, sucking sound, I could see his cum leaking out of her, a milky stream running down the inside of her thigh. She collapsed onto the beanbag, her chest heaving, her body glistening with sweat. I had crawled out a moment earlier.
She looked over at me, her eyes hazy with satisfaction, and saw that I was still rock hard, my hand still stroking my cock. "You didn't cum?" she asked, surprised.
I shook my head, unable to speak. A wicked, beautiful smile spread across her face.
"Well, we can't have that," she purred, pushing herself up onto her elbows. "Let me take your virginity."
The idea of experiencing my own sister that way, right after Frodo had unloaded into her, was far too good of an offer to refuse.
I was lying on my back on the beanbag, the cheap plastic crinkling beneath me, my mind a complete blank. But Sarah, my beautiful, fearless sister, wasn't done with me. She pushed herself up, her movements fluid and confident in the dim light. A stray beam of sun cut through the dusty window, catching the sheen of sweat on her skin and the milky trickle of Frodo's cum still leaking from her. She looked down at me, her eyes dark and heavy with a power I'd never seen in her before.
"You’re so cute," she breathed. "Are you ready to feel my pussy!"
Before I could even process what she meant, she swung a leg over my hips, straddling me. I looked up at her, and the world shrank to just her. From this angle, she was a goddess, all soft curves and commanding presence. She reached down between us, her fingers cool against my fever-hot skin as she gripped my cock. I gasped, my hips bucking involuntarily. She guided me to her entrance, and the sensation of my head pressing against her folds, still slick and wet with Frodo's seed, was electric.
"Ready, little brother?" she whispered, and then she sank down.
The feeling was indescribable. It wasn't just the tight, wet heat of her pussy enveloping me, it was everything. It was the way she slowly took all of me, her body opening to accept mine. It was the slick, extra lubrication from Frodo's climax, a thought that made me impossibly harder. It was the sight of her head falling back, a moan of pure satisfaction escaping her lips as she settled fully onto my lap, my entire length buried inside her. I was utterly lost, my senses overwhelmed.
She began to move, a slow, deliberate rocking of her hips that sent waves of pleasure coursing through me. "God, Ash," she panted, her hands braced on my chest for leverage. "You feel so good inside me." Her words were gasoline on a fire. I watched, mesmerized, as she found her rhythm, her body rising and falling, her breasts swaying with the motion.
After a few minutes of that exquisite torture, she leaned forward, her hair falling around my face like a curtain. "Fuck bro," she whispered against my lips. "Fuck me, Ash. Show me what you've got."
That was all the encouragement I needed. With a surge of adrenaline, I rolled us over. The beanbag groaned in protest, but suddenly I was on top of her, between her spread thighs. The shift in power was intoxicating. I hooked my arms under her knees, pushing them back and opening her up completely. I entered her again in one smooth thrust, and this time, I was the one in control.
I started to move, my instincts taking over. I pumped into her, my hips snapping forward, building a rhythm that was faster and harder than hers had been. The pleasure was building to an impossible peak, a tight coil in my groin. I leaned down, lowering my head to her magnificent chest, and captured one of her hard nipples in my mouth.
"Oh, fuck, yes!" she cried out, her hands flying to my hair, holding me to her. I suckled greedily, my tongue swirling around the sensitive bud, tasting the salt of her skin. The dual sensations of being inside her and having her breast in my mouth was too much. It was everything.
"I'm... I'm gonna cum," I grunted against her skin, my movements becoming erratic.
"Do it," she urged, her voice tight with her own impending release. "Cum for me, Ash. Cum inside me."
That was it. With a final, powerful thrust, I buried myself as deep as I could go. My entire body seized up, and my orgasm ripped through me. It wasn't just a release; it was a detonation. Wave after wave of pleasure washed over me as I pumped my seed deep into my sister's pussy, mixing with what was already there. I felt so intimately connected with her and with Frodo in that moment, a strange, sacred trinity of lust. There was an aspect of embarrassment that I enjoyed too; I wanted to perform well like Frodo had, to last and make her scream, but I was too young, too overwhelmed, and ended up coming early, my orgasm crashing through me with the force of a tidal wave.
I collapsed on top of her, completely spent, my heart hammering against her chest. She held me, stroking my hair and reassuring me that it was okay. "It's perfect," she whispered, kissing my temple. "You were perfect." In the end, I was in pure bliss—the world faded away for the rest of the night.
Immediately after, my sister and I laid there together, our limbs tangled in the beanbag, the three of us—me, her, and Frodo—a pile of sated, sleepy bodies. It was actually quite sweet. The smell of sex and dog and sweat filled the small space, but it wasn't gross; it was the scent of us, of our shared secret. We eventually started laughing and joking about the whole thing.
"Guess you're not a little kid anymore," she said, poking me in the ribs. It was how we processed it, I think, with humor and a strange, easy intimacy that had never been there before.
Afterwards, I felt on top of the world and obviously even more connected with my sister. We were co-conspirators, partners in a delicious crime. But I also felt more separated from the rest of the world, the kids at school with their boring, normal lives. I definitely wanted more with my sister and Frodo, but I didn't know exactly what. I was hopeful. The future, for the first time, felt like it was full of thrilling, secret possibilities.

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