I do

Her hand wraps around me tentatively, her fingers cool and slightly trembling against the heat of my skin, and the sensation pulls a low groan from my chest. Emma's eyes, wide and darkened with that app-fueled hunger, fix on mine, searching for reassurance even as her body leans in closer, her bare breasts brushing my chest with every shallow breath she takes. The kitchen air feels thicker now, charged with the scent of her arousal mingling with the faint remnants of coffee from breakfast, and the table creaks under us as she shifts, her thighs squeezing my hips in silent urging.

I pause, my free hand coming up to cup her cheek, thumb tracing the flushed curve of her jaw. She's never done this before; I can see it in the way her lips part on a hesitant exhale, the subtle widening of her blue eyes beneath those long lashes. The app had flagged her as untouched in the profile that popped up when I first scanned her this morning, a detail that hit me like a jolt, twisting the forbidden edge of this into something sharper, more intoxicating. My sister, innocent until now, unraveling under my touch because of the power humming in my pocket. The thought sends a surge through me, my grip tightening on her waist as I lean in, my forehead resting against hers.

"Emma," I whisper, my voice rough, laced with the control I'm barely holding onto. "You're a virgin. This... it's your first time." It's not a question, but she nods anyway, her nod small and quick, tendrils of blonde hair sticking to her damp forehead. Her hand stills on me, not pulling away but hovering, as if the reality of it makes her pause. The app's influence flickers; does she feel compelled, or is it her own buried curiosity breaking free? At 60%, it's hard to tell, but her cheeks burn redder, and she bites her lower lip, that teasing spark I know so well flickering back to life despite the vulnerability.

"Yeah," she admits softly, her breath warm against my mouth. "I am. But I want it to be you. Please." The plea in her voice, raw and unfiltered, cracks something in me. I kiss her then, slow and deep, pouring reassurance into it even as my body screams to claim her. My tongue slides against hers, tasting the sweetness of her, and she melts into it, her free hand sliding up to tangle in my hair, pulling me closer. The phone chimes faintly beside us, the influence meter ticking to 62% unbidden, as if her confession alone feeds it.

I ease her back gently, just enough to look at her, taking in the sight of her sprawled across the table like this, legs still hooked around my thigh, shorts askew, the pale expanse of her torso glowing in the morning light slanting through the window. Her small breasts rise and fall with quick breaths, nipples tight and rosy, begging for attention. I lower my head, mouth closing over one peak, tongue swirling slow circles around it while my hand kneads the other, rolling the sensitive bud between my fingers. She arches sharply, a whimper escaping her, her hand resuming its stroke on me, firmer now, exploratory. "That feels... oh God," she gasps, her hips lifting off the table in instinctive response.

I don't rush. This is her first time, and even through the haze of power, I want her to feel every second, to remember it as mine. My lips trail downward, kissing the soft valley between her breasts, then lower still, over the quivering plane of her stomach. She watches me, eyes hooded, as I hook my fingers into the waistband of her shorts and panties, tugging them down together. They slide over her hips, revealing the neat trim of blonde curls above her core, and the slick evidence of her desire glistening there. I pull the fabric free from her ankles, tossing it aside with a soft thud to the linoleum floor, and she lies exposed before me, knees parting instinctively as if the app whispers the permission she can't quite voice.

"You're beautiful," I murmur, the words slipping out unbidden, and her answering smile is shy, almost girl-like, cutting through the lust. I settle between her legs, pushing the chair back slightly for better access, my hands stroking the insides of her thighs, parting them wider. Her skin is silk-soft, trembling under my palms, and I lean in, breath ghosting over her folds before my tongue follows, parting them gently. She cries out at the first touch, her hands flying to grip the table's edge, knuckles whitening. I taste her fully then, salty-sweet and intoxicating, my tongue laving slow strokes from her entrance to her clit, circling the swollen nub until her thighs quake around my shoulders.

Emma's moans fill the kitchen, unrestrained now, her body writhing as I delve deeper, sucking lightly on her clit while two fingers press against her entrance, teasing without entering. She's so wet, the sounds obscene and intimate, her arousal coating my chin. "I... I can't," she pants, her voice breaking on a sob of pleasure, but she doesn't pull away. Instead, her hips buck up, chasing more, and I oblige, sliding one finger inside her carefully, feeling the tight heat envelop me. She's virgin-tight, walls fluttering around the intrusion, and I curl my finger upward, seeking that spot that makes her gasp turn into a keen.

The app vibrates again, Influence: 65%, and her response amplifies, her hand dropping to my head, fingers threading through my hair to hold me in place. "More," she begs, her voice husky, transformed by the command I'd typed earlier. I add a second finger, stretching her slowly, scissoring gently to prepare her, my mouth never ceasing its rhythm on her clit. Her breaths come in ragged bursts, her body tensing, coiling like a spring, and I feel her cresting, the first orgasm ripping through her with a cry that echoes off the cabinets. Her walls clench around my fingers, pulsing in waves, and I lap at her through it, drawing out every shudder until she slumps, boneless and panting.

I rise then, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, my own need throbbing painfully now. She looks at me with glassy eyes, lips parted, a lazy smile curving them as she reaches for me again. "That was... insane," she whispers, her voice thick with afterglow. But there's no time for recovery; the app's power hums between us, urging us onward. I position myself at her entrance, the head of my cock nudging her slick folds, and she nods, her hands sliding to my shoulders, nails digging in for purchase.

"Slow," I tell her, locking eyes with her, and she nods again, trust shining there despite everything. I push forward inch by inch, the tight resistance of her virginity giving way under the careful pressure, a faint sting that makes her wince and bite her lip. "Breathe," I murmur, pausing halfway, my hand stroking her thigh soothingly. The sensation is overwhelming; her heat gripping me like a vice, wet and velvet-soft, pulling me deeper. She's so small around me, her body adjusting, and I rock gently, letting her accommodate, kisses peppering her neck to distract from the discomfort.

It fades quickly, her whimpers turning to sighs, her hips tilting up to take more. "Okay... it's okay now," she breathes, and I sink fully inside her, bottoming out with a shared groan. We're connected completely, skin to skin, the forbidden weight of it pressing down as I hold still, savoring the pulse of her around me. The table groans under our combined weight, dishes shifting precariously, but the world narrows to this: her blue eyes on mine, her breaths mingling with my own.

I start moving then, shallow thrusts at first, building a rhythm that matches her gasps. Her legs wrap around my waist, heels digging into my back, urging me deeper, and the app chimes softly, Command Reinforced: 68%, as her body responds eagerly, walls clenching with every withdrawal. The slick slide of us together fills the air, mingling with her moans, and I angle my hips to hit that spot inside her, watching her face contort in pleasure. Sweat beads on her skin, making her glow, and I capture her mouth in a messy kiss, tongues tangling as I pick up pace.

Emma meets me thrust for thrust, her small breasts bouncing with the motion, nipples grazing my chest in delicious friction. "Harder," she pleads against my lips, the app's influence making her bold, and I comply, one hand bracing on the table, the other pinning her hip to control the depth. The intensity builds, a coil tightening low in my gut, her cries growing sharper, more ****. She's close again, I can feel it in the way she tenses, her nails raking down my back, leaving faint trails that sting sweetly.

I reach between us, thumb finding her clit, circling firmly as I drive into her, and it's enough. She shatters around me, her second orgasm crashing over her with a keening wail, walls milking me rhythmically, pulling me under. The power of it, the intimacy, her innocence yielding to me, tips me over the edge, and I follow with a guttural groan, spilling inside her in hot pulses, my vision blurring as pleasure whites out everything else.

We collapse together, my weight careful on her, breaths heaving in sync as the aftershocks fade. She's trembling beneath me, arms wrapped tight around my neck, and I kiss her temple, tasting the salt of her skin. The app's screen glows nearby, influence at 72% now, a quiet promise of more to come. But for this moment, it's just us, tangled and spent, the morning light warming our joined forms.

Emma stirs first, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on my back, a soft laugh bubbling up. "I didn't know it could feel like that," she murmurs, her voice wondrous, and I smile against her shoulder, the power settling deeper, binding her to me in ways she can't yet fathom. The kitchen is a mess; fork forgotten on the floor, coffee gone cold; but none of it matters. This is just the beginning.

I pull out slowly, eliciting a soft whine from her, and help her sit up, wrapping her in my arms as she leans against me, legs still shaky. Her head rests on my shoulder, blonde hair tousled, and I stroke it gently, the app's interface waiting patiently for the next command. But I let it linger, savoring the quiet intimacy, the way her body fits against mine so perfectly.

"Tell me everything," I say softly, tilting her chin up to meet her gaze. "How did it feel?" She blushes, that virgin shyness peeking through the haze, but the app encourages openness, her words flowing freely.

"Like... fire, but good. Full. Like I was made for this, for you." Her blue eyes sparkle with newfound heat, and I kiss her again, slow and claiming. The influence climbs to 75%, unprompted, as her hand slides down my chest, exploring possessively.

We stay like that for what feels like hours, though it's only minutes, talking in whispers, her confessions spilling out: the crushes she's hidden, the loneliness of crashing here, the curiosity that's always simmered beneath our sibling banter. The app amplifies it all, turning vulnerability into devotion, and I listen, my hands roaming her body idly, tracing the faint red marks my mouth left on her throat.

Eventually, hunger pulls us apart, not for food, but for more. She slides off the table, legs wobbling, and I catch her, steadying her with a chuckle. "Bedroom?" she suggests, her voice teasing, echoing our old familiarity but laced with new promise. I nod, scooping her up effortlessly, her laughter light as I carry her down the hall.

In my room, the sheets are rumpled from this morning's unrest, but it doesn't matter. I lay her down gently, following to hover over her, and she pulls me close, legs parting in invitation. This time, it's slower, more exploratory, her on top, learning the rhythm, her small hands guiding mine to her breasts as she rocks against me. She's tentative at first, wincing slightly at the lingering tenderness, but pleasure overtakes it, her moans soft and breathy as she finds her pace.

I watch her, mesmerized by the sight: blonde hair cascading over her shoulders, blue eyes locked on mine, body arching in discovery. The app chimes intermittently, 80% now, as she rides me, her walls fluttering with each descent, building toward another peak. I thrust up to meet her, hands on her hips, and she comes undone again, collapsing forward onto my chest with a sob of release. I follow soon after, holding her through it, our bodies slick and entwined.

Afternoon light filters through the blinds by the time we surface, exhausted but sated. Emma curls against me, her head on my chest, listening to my heartbeat. "The app... it's real, isn't it?" she whispers, fingers tracing the phone on the nightstand. I nod, pulling her closer, the power secure.

"Yeah," I reply, voice low. "And it's ours now." She smiles, content, resistance fully eroded, and as sleep claims her, I stare at the ceiling, plans forming for Sarah across the hall, the world opening up under my control.