Yeah!

Nodding, John's penis, embarrassingly, throbbed against her.

Smile widening, Hannah, obviously uncaring of his rock hard penis boarding up along her trousers-coated crotch, looked down at John, past her half-lidded eyes. "Good. I was starting to worry there, big bro!"

Then she pushed her face into his and kissed him. Her arms withdrew to cradle his neck in her soft hand, the other clutching his back. John had never kissed a girl before. Heck, he kissed his mother -- on the cheek.

The sensation of Hannah's lips being pressed onto his was unlike anything he'd experienced before, mainly because this was fiery; this was passionate, hot, and she was his own sister, a person who never showed a single modicum of sexual interest in him since literal birth.

Now... kissing him. Making out, maybe. Her hand dug into his hair, which she rubbed tenderly as the weight of her torso on his suddenly took them to the ground, John falling right on his back. Hannah grunted out in pain, and broke into laughter. Her hair was cutely scattered over her forehead as she recollected herself, lifting herself up with John's chest as support. She smiled, and clutched the waistline of her knee-length pants.

"Shhh," she pressed a finger onto her lips. Then, she wriggled them down, pushing them past her tight bottom and exposing her purple panties. John was at once in a state of inexplicable arousal and nerve-wracking uncertainty -- they were doing this upstairs in the open! Anybody could just start walking up the stairs and see them splayed out, like this, and there would be absolutely no going back from any of it! Was Hannah just that crazy? This ring was turning her into some sex fiend!

...and she hated guys who just thought about sex!

"I hate it when guys just think about sex," she said with a shudder in the middle of a movie theater showing a year ago.

It made sense in context. See, there was this scene where a couple was going out on a date, when--

PLOP!

Two eyes shot wide open. And so for the first time that day, John spoke.

"OHHHH SHOOOT!"

He glanced down, missing the smug smile on Hannah's face above. No. More importantly... more importantly, there, right there, his penis... was nowhere to be found.

Instead, in its place, was Hannah's not too hairy pussy, having swallowed his cock whole, as she moved her pelvis side to side in a provocative manner, squishing it against his base.

"Gotchya balls, John!" She said with a snigger, as if saying 'gotchya nose.' The blonde girl then began sliding up, and pushing down hard onto his pelvic front, and up again. The sensation was nutty. It was taking everything for John not to just shoot his junk right up her tubular then and there.

....when did she unzip his pants? When did she pull it out? When did she tug 'em down?

What, when, where, why, how?!

John had to think fast, even as his eyes roamed her petite, yet fit, muscle-contracting thighs. He just put on the Get Laid ring out of pure dumb instinct. Maybe, somewhere in him he did want this. Maybe, honestly, he did want to fuck his cute, hot, plucky little sister.

"Hannah honey, we're going to be late!"

"Umf! Co-coming--erugh, see, John, this is it, just like that, yeah," she grunted again, and again, "you like it, right? You like having sex, right?" She clutched his wrists. "Come on... come on, feel me up. Feel up my breasts, squeeze them or something, or, or--come on!" Her teeth gritted together, and pushed faster against him. Hannah was doing all the moving -- John was practically a breathing mat. "Do something, John!"

From down below, their mom's voice sojourned to set the mood. "Hannah..."

Another smash against John's body. The blonde girl turned her head in the direction of the front door below, hair swishing across her face. "One second, Mom!"

Plop PLOP!

"MMMPH!"