My dad remarried when I was 14, and I suddenly had a stepsister, Marissa. This was fine, except she was my age and distractingly pretty. I was a hormonal adolescent, so I spent the four years before college pining for her, as inappropriate as that might me. We’d just been too different in the end.

She was easy to fall for. She had the biggest grin, long blonde hair and an amazing body. I was significantly less easy to fall in love with at that time, so our relationship was casual and friendly.

We parted ways for college, only occasionally talking to each other on the phone or seeing each other at family events. And then my dad and her mom divorced, and we were no longer related at all. I figured I would never see her again.

Well, when I was 35, my dad announced some big news. He was going to remarry his ex, which meant I was getting my stepsister back.

That was weird and annoyingly fickle of my dad, but whatever. I was a successful lawyer at that point, and I’d long since moved past my childhood crush on Marissa.

The first time I saw her again was a few weeks before the wedding at another family event, and holy shit, had she gotten even hotter with age. She was toned and tan, with perfectly curled blonde hair and the kind of figure that makes a man look twice.

We didn’t get to talk much. She was busy with her cousins, and I was busy drinking and socializing. But there was a moment when we met on the dance floor and something intense crackled between us. She had been dancing, but she stumbled into me when she spun around, and I caught her. We stared at each other for a few seconds, and I was gratified to see her eyes drift from my face down to my shoulders and chest.

“Hey, sis,” I said.

That broke the spell, and she grinned before returning to dancing. But I caught her looking at me frequently over the rest of the night.

Our next interaction was at a dinner at my dad’s house with the extended family in attendance. It was still before the wedding, which meant we weren’t yet officially stepsiblings again. Coincidentally, my dad seated us next to each other at the table.

It was weird at first. What do you say to someone you knew during high school and then didn’t speak to for over a decade? We figured it out, though, and soon we were chatting about our lives. I learned that Marissa worked in marketing and was still single. She tossed that last tidbit in without me asking, so I told her I was single, too.

As the dinner progressed and the wine flowed, our conversation got quieter and more intense. It started with her digging in to the reasons I was still single and led to me asking what she looked for in a man. She pointedly looked at my crotch and said, “Stamina.” Then she placed a hand on my thigh, and my dick instantly stiffened.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” I said, placing my napkin on the table as I rose to my feet. “Maybe you do, too?”

She shifted in her chair, and I had a feeling her pussy was getting just a little wet.

“In a few minutes, yeah. There’s one on the second floor, right?”

“There sure is.”

By the time I got to the bathroom, my cock was painfully erect. I pulled my dick out and leaned back against the wall, stroking myself while I waited for Marissa to show up. It was crazy, maybe even wrong, but we were adults now, and by God did I want to fuck my former stepsister.

The doorknob turned, and she slipped inside the bathroom. She stopped at the sight of me stroking myself, and for a moment, I worried I had misunderstood the situation, but then she lunged at me. Our lips met, and she immediately plunged her tongue into my mouth.

Her hips were pressed against my erection, and she ground against it mercilessly. I gasped at the friction. Marissa was clearly angling for control, and while that was as hot as hell, I didn’t want to come too quickly.

I reversed our positions, pushing her back against the wall. I grabbed the hem of her dress and tugged it up. She wasn’t wearing panties, the naughty girl. I touched her cunt the moment she grabbed my dick, and we both moaned.

She was wet already, and when I slid a finger into her, she bit my shoulder through my dress shirt. I crooked the finger inside her, and she groaned as her pussy clenched around me.

“How do you like it, sis?” I asked. The taboo nature of our encounter was thrilling me.

“So long as it ends with me on top, I’m fine,” she panted. Then she added the forbidden word: “Brother.”

We weren’t related, hadn’t seen each other in more than ten years, and yet what we were doing felt wrong in the best possible way. I added a second finger, stretching her tight pussy, and she cranked my dick harder in response.

“We don’t have a lot of time,” she said, and then she dropped to her knees and started sucking me. I groaned and braced a hand against the wall as her lips sank down to the base of my dick. She fluttered her tongue against my shaft as she bobbed her head.

I couldn’t let her do all the tasting, though, so I shoved her onto her back on the fluffy bathmat. Then I scooted between her legs and returned the favor, licking all over her sweet cunt as she moaned and bucked her hips against my face.

“In me,” she ordered. “Now.”

I looked up and asked, “Condom?”

“Shit.” She eyed the drawers of the bathroom counter. “Maybe your dad has one.”

That wasn’t what I wanted to think about, but I was willing to do just about anything to get in that tight pussy, so I ransacked the bathroom until I found a box of condoms. I slid one on—I still hadn’t removed my pants, not wanting to waste a single second—then got on top of her, pressed my rubber-covered dick against her wet cunt and thrust in deep.

She arched her back and moaned at the penetration, and her legs lifted to wrap around my waist. She was tight but so turned on that every stroke made a filthy wet sound. I pumped into her, enjoying the squeeze of her body around me and the hazy look of pleasure that came over her face. She ground herself against me, using her legs for leverage as she met me stroke for stroke.

“I think you like being my sister,” I told her, and her pussy clenched as I spoke the words.

“Imagine all the family events we’ll have to go to,” she said, wrapping her arms around my neck.

This position was great, but I wanted her every way I could have her in the limited minutes we had left, so I pulled out and flipped her onto her belly. I covered her body with mine, then slid a hand beneath her to tilt her hips and fucked her from behind. She gripped the bathmat desperately, and her hips pumped up against me. But she didn’t have the leverage to set the pace. I was totally in control in this position, holding her hips at exactly the right angle while I fucked her as deep as I wanted. She gasped and flexed, her cunt squeezing me as I dominated her completely.

She’d told me she wanted to be on top at the end, so I paced myself, not going too fast. Instead, I focused on force and depth, pumping into her with long strokes that made her whimper whenever my hips came flush with hers. Feeling generous, I moved the hand beneath her to cover her clitoris, and every thrust sent her clit rubbing across my fingers.

“Fuck, you’re good at this,” she said.

“I’m all grown up,” I told her, thrusting into her hard enough to make her gasp.

She took the deep dicking for a while, panting and whimpering into the bathmat as her pussy squeezed me. But then she bumped her hips up sharply, and I knew she wanted to change position.

“All right,” I said, easing out of her and taking her place on the bathmat. “Show me what you’ve got.”

And fuck, she sure did. She straddled me, then slipped a hand under her dress and guided me into her pussy.

She immediately started a rhythm that made me wonder if she’d failed to tell me about her second career as a rodeo queen. Her hips rocked and her thighs flexed, and just watching that sinuous movement would have been phenomenal, but being inside her while she writhed was pure paradise. She braced her hands on my chest as she rode me, and her long blonde hair swung down to brush against my body.

I reached beneath her dress to grip her ass, loving the way her hips rolled over me. The rhythm intensified, and she rose almost all the way off me with each stroke before slamming back down and taking me to the hilt. I grunted and closed my eyes, trying to focus on anything that might stop me from coming too quickly.

“You like my pussy,” she said. “And you like it when I pin you down and ride you.”

And yep, I sure did, but that wasn’t helping my mental struggle to hold out until she came. I moved one hand to the front and reached for her clit, and she eased her strokes so I could rub her. Her rhythm faltered, and I recognized the telltale sign of a woman on the brink, so I rubbed her clit faster. Soon she was shuddering on top of me, her cunt clenching rhythmically around my erection. I thrust up into her a few more times and came harder than I had in years.

We cleaned up quickly and checked each other’s outfits to make sure we looked normal, although there was no fixing some of it. Then she preceded me out of the bathroom, and I followed a few minutes later.

For the rest of dinner, my soon-to-be stepsister and I sat with our knees brushing, and when dessert arrived, her hand found its way into my lap.

There would be plenty of family events to come, but we made the most of that one. It was one hell of a reunion.