Be more creative

You stop her as she reaches for a piece of your discarded clothing.

"A man's seed is a gift from the Old Gods. It invigorates, refreshes - liquid luck. One single sip will make all your ventures in a day prove fruitful." You lean over and place a gentle hand on the side of her face and fix a stern look that she locks on to. "Before you is far more than a sip, sister. Drink deep."

Eyes still locked on yours, you pull the girl prostrate on the ground before you, as if in prayer. With a final application of pressure, your gazes break from one another and your dearest sister lowers her face to the pool of your warm cum on the floor. She begins to dutifully lap at the thick, fertile seed, first tentatively, then with a crescendo of vigour as she gains the taste of it.

What remains when she picks herself up from the floor is little more than a damp spot, a section of wooden floor licked clean by your little sister.

She licks her lips one last time. "It tastes lovely, Jon. Salty and a little sweet too! Thank you for my gift."