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Can we go somewhere else to talk about this? My house is only six blocks from here and I'll fix you a drink. Do you drink martinis?" "Sounds really good about now!" I assured her. "Yes!" she said with a sigh. "After yesterday's meeting with my lawyer, I need a good stiff one too." Hmmmm, "stiff one" ... was that meant to have a double meaning?" I thought to myself, "If I'm lucky, I'm being propositioned in the most subtle and elegant way." Then I said, "Look, I've got a few things to clear up here. What's your address? I'll meet you there in a half hour." Erica wrote down, 1345 W. Payton Place. I looked at her with a smirk and said, "You're pullin' my leg, right?" "A lot of people think it's a joke but somebody decided to spice up the neighborhood when they named our street. There are only three houses on our block and we all laugh about it." "OK, I'll see ya there. I need to close up the office and tell Harry I'm leaving." "See ya in a few," and off she went. Once in. I pulled her face to mine and our tongues met. Her cunt sucked at my cock as her mouth tasted mine hungrily.I fumbled at the buttons until ber blouse burst open, freeing her breasts. Her now naked chest pressed against mine as my hips thrust into my sister's pussy again and again."Oh fuck. It's been so long since I had cock. I've waited for so long. This is the only cock for my pussy. This pussy belongs to my big brother." Oh, Steph. You feel so good. It's like you are made for my cock." Her juices squelched as I pumped into her. Her orgasms chaining one after another, and her cum dripped from the table.Her nails gouged at my back at a body shaking orgasm ripped through her. Her legs locked around my hips and pulled me completely inside her. The convulsing walls of her cunt pushed me over the edge and my balls tightened. I came into her womb, my incestuous seed filling my sister's belly until she could hold no more.—---------------------A while later I lay on the couch behind.
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She was sat with the manager at an adjacent table in earshot. It was obvious that a job interview was going on. He was drilling her on questions about where she lived, her availability and phone number. I quickly surmised that she was a runaway, living in a hostel, desperately seeking some source of income. I think the manager surmised the same thing and figuring she was a risk, turned her down. She tried pleading, but he just shook his head and walked off. One hell of an opportunity for one of my unofficial sidelines had surfaced.She stood, sobbing, trying to keep from breaking into a cry, keeping her face down as she dabbed the tears. She slowly took a couple of steps. I got up, offered her a clean napkin from the stack supplied with condiments and asked her if she was looking for work. She nodded, a bit puzzled, but interested, still sniffling. I told her if she sat down with me I had an offer for her. She sat, wiping away the tears and noisily blowing her nose. Her red rimmed.

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