Inspired, John lifted his hand to Cara's clitoris. Remembering what his mother had told him about the sensitivity approaching climax, he twisted his wrist so that he had a finger on each side, brushing feather-light against Cara as she moved. She flashed him a smile, her breathing heavy now, matching his own.

John gritted his teeth, fighting the onset of his climax but the heat and wetness and wonderful snugness of his sister's pussy was too much and he groaned as he felt his seed boiling through his prick and into his sister's depths. In the throes of his climax, his reflexive thrusts, deep, hard, were the signal that Cara...