You generously make it up to your sister.

You quickly glance around, wanting to indelibly burn the scene into your mind. You, Sam Anderson, sitting on your family's old, brown, corduroy couch, naked, your boxer shorts strewn on the floor in front of you. A pile of your sister's discarded clothes to your right, where she stripped after you "convinced" her that she's supposed to be nude while she's home. A cheap tray table to your left, upon which sits an empty bowl and aluminum can, the remains of your Lunch of Champions. The television and entertainment center against the wall, off for the moment.

And your naked sister, kneeling in front of you, her long blond hair tied up into a ponytail behind her, staring directly at your erect cock.

God damn, you think to yourself, a fountain of excitement and anticipation. You don't give one thought to her, to the fact that she's your sister -- to anything, really, except how the next few minutes are going to be incredible. It's basically your deepest fantasy, come to life: the ability to make everybody else just as horny as you are. To make a new, sexual world.

Your sister just keeps staring at your exposed penis for a few seconds, and you notice a look of puzzlement, of slight confusion, cloud her face. She appears to blanch slightly, making the blush on her cheeks and scarlet lipstick that much more noticeable.

"What's wrong?" you ask her, trying to hide the mild panic from your voice. Is something wrong? Is it not working?

"N-nothing," she replies, haltingly. "It's just... it's weird. I know we do this all the time, and I want to do it, so badly, but I have such a strange, unfamiliar feeling -- like this is the first time I've ever seen you like this." She glances up into your eyes. "God, it's so weird. What the hell is wrong with me?"

Hmmmm, you think, with a clinical air. Seems like she's having a little trouble integrating these new ideas into her worldview. You glance at the Manipulator, wrapped around your upper arm -- the only thing I'm wearing other than my glasses right now, you think, amused. Its light is a bright green, tinged with maybe a hint of yellow, which surprises you, given that it was deep red before your nap. It must be some sort of charge indicator, you muse.

You focus your attention back on her. "Maybe you just had a difficult day," you tell her. "It's probably just nerves. You see me naked every day, right?" In the corner of your eye, you see the indicator light turn slightly yellower, and realize that it's incredibly easy to trigger the thing; every suggestion you make while looking at another person seems to set it off. But in any case, it works, as the clouds on your sister's face seem to part, and she smiles again, looking back down to your still very aroused member.

"Yeah, I'm sure that's it," she agrees with you. "School sucked today, and all I could think about was getting back here, stripping my fucking clothes off, and relaxing. Sooo..." She moves her face closer, sticking her tongue out, and begins to start running it up and down your cock, slowly, sensuously. It's soft, warm, and wet, and you are completely unprepared for the shock that shoots through your body when you first feel it.

HOLY FUCKING SHIT, you scream inwardly, your heart feeling like it's going to burst through your chest. You had no idea. All those years of playing with yourself, trying different techniques, hands, lotions, whatever, none of it could compare to what you're feeling at that exact instant. You realize that this is probably going to end much, much faster than you had hoped. You're still a virgin, after all, and what's worse, a lifetime of basically trying to seek out the endorphin rush of orgasm as quickly as possible has worked precisely against you on the stamina front.

She continues to massage your cock with her tongue, running it along the underside, up to the tip, and back along the top, and your eyes are fixed upon her as though you've acquired a goddamned missile lock and are ready to fire. Then, as she draws back slightly, she opens her mouth a bit wider, and takes the tip of your penis into her, past her ruby-red lips. As she does this, she looks up at your face, right into your eyes, and smiles just a little bit...

...Aaaaand that's it. That's all you can handle. You let out a shuddering groan, feeling your cock twitch, and shoot loads of cum right into her mouth. Her eyes go a bit wide at this; she's unprepared, and isn't able to catch your first squirt, a small amount of cum escaping her lower lip... but she quickly sucks hard, and the sensation against you is so powerful you're sure you're going to pass out right there. She just holds herself there until you finish, your entire body jerking with the last few spasms, until you finally sink back into the couch, body tingling all over.

She slowly pulls her lips away from you, and even in your spent state it's like fire against your skin. Then she looks back into your eyes... and scowls. "What the fuck, Sam?" she says. "That was all of fifteen seconds!"

Your mind is still reeling too much to process her words, though. All you can see is that little dribble of cum still on the corner of her mouth.

She changes position, sitting down on the floor, her legs off to the side, and continues, "God, I expect you to last longer than that. Have you been jacking off enough? You know damned well you should be doing it regularly so you aren't so sensitive. This is so typical of you, you know. You never think about what needs to be done, so you're always unprepared for things. That's why you didn't make it into college, you're so goddamned disorganized."

You can't help but chuckle at the insane absurdity of this situation. Your sister is telling you off the way she has often done, for years, except she's completely naked, just finished blowing you, and is commenting on the frequency of your masturbation as though she was discussing your abysmal study habits. And you love it. There's something about the casualness of it all that you find strangely erotic. So you just let her go on for a little bit as you lay there, until she is interrupted by a different, familiar voice, one quivering with shock and disbelief.

"What the fuck are the two of you doing?" It's almost a hiss, tinged with abject disbelief and panic.

You work up the energy to sit up and look behind you, towards the kitchen door where the voice is coming from. You already know what you'll see, though.

Your mother stands there, frozen, eyes wide as dinner plates, mouth open in distress.