My hands were trembling, for they were granting me a pleasure unlike any I had ever known. My mind was flooded with heat and adrenaline; at long last, a lifelong desire was being fulfilled.

My hands—my very own hands—were cupping a pair of breasts. They were beautiful, firm, and perky: my sister's breasts.

She gazed at me with misty, unfocused eyes, seemingly caught in a trance of pleasure from the warmth against her chest, while also feeling a quiet satisfaction in helping her dearest younger brother satisfy his primal needs.

It was Sunday morning. As was my custom, I had gone to wake her for the breakfast I had prepared. After calling her name for a while with no response from behind the door, a familiar thought struck me: *Heh, here is my chance to sneak a peek at her sleeping in her skimpy nightwear again!* This was, in fact, my true motivation for making breakfast every Sunday.

My sister, Elena, was a sophomore in college. Her vibrant university life had turned her into a bit of a night owl. Every Sunday, I had to prepare breakfast early, or else we would both go hungry. My parents worked the market on Sundays, and since Elena slept in late and there were few eateries nearby, if I didn't cook, no one would. Although it was a chore, I loved the effort.

Because she slept late, Elena often skipped breakfast, but under the pretext of wanting her to taste my "carefully crafted" dishes, I insisted. We were close, and she doted on me, so she relented and woke up to eat every week. However, she was a heavy sleeper, and knocking was often useless. Consequently, she had given me a spare key to her room, handing it to me every Saturday so that on Sunday mornings, I could personally go in and rouse her for her exquisite breakfast. Truth be told, I put immense effort into those meals; I had pored over countless recipe books and dessert guides just for her.

The real highlight, however, was using the excuse of waking her to steal glimpses of her sleeping姿态. Especially in the summer, when the quilts were thin and her clothing was minimal, one could see her bra and panties clearly. If she had tossed and turned during a restless night, it was easy to catch glimpses of the soft, pale curves of her breasts through the narrow gaps of her bra; sometimes, even her nipples were visible. Yet, despite these voyeuristic conquests, I had never once dared to touch her magnificent body. In the presence of such raw, visual temptation, making a move felt like a death wish.

Even when she was awake, she never truly guarded herself against her only brother—our parents were always busy working, leaving us to rely on one another. She would still lounge about in minimal clothing, never bothering to cover up or usher me out. But that meant I couldn't stare at her naked form with impunity! Oh, that snow-white, porcelain skin... those full, perky breasts perfectly proportioned to her frame... that slender waist, those long, elegant legs, and that enchanting face... I truly envied my future brother-in-law. To have such a beauty as a companion—what a grand joy of life that must be!

Ever since we were children, a doubt had lingered in my mind: was she truly my biological sister? Elena was tall, standing at 173cm, strikingly beautiful, brilliant in her studies, and possessed a temperament that was both gentle and capable. And me? At 160cm, plain and somewhat awkward, standing next to her made us look like Snow White and a dwarf. My only redeeming quality was that my grades could at least somewhat keep pace with hers.

Putting on a mask of feigned impatience, I opened her bedroom door and stepped into her private sanctuary... As usual, Elena was lingering in bed, the quilt kicked far to the side. If anyone called her a perfect fairy, her sleeping habits would be the sole contradiction. In truth, there was little to fault; before me lay a sleeping goddess with a serene face, a sensual silhouette, and scandalous attire. *Oh, brother-in-law, how I hate you!*

I seized the opportunity to indulge in this visual feast. Her nipples were hidden this time... Circling her bed, I greedily admired the perfect curves of her skin left exposed by her tiny camisole. My breathing grew heavier with every passing second. My hand trembled as it reached out, hovering in the air above her chest. It moved forward, then recoiled; forward, then back—a desperate, silent struggle. Finally, I pulled it back. *Better to hold back now than to lose the chance forever,* I thought. "Whew, glad I held on..." I whispered to myself, exhaling in relief.

"Held on to what?"

The sleeping Elena had suddenly spoken!

"!!"

"So cowardly... how long do you plan on staying a virgin?" Elena slowly opened her watery, soulful eyes, her red lips curling into a phrase that was decidedly unrefined.

"!!?" I was speechless.

"Are you stunned? It's alright, you don't have to speak. Just move..." She spoke with a voice that was a mixture of pity and longing.

In a graceful, reclining pose, she reached out and caught my retreating left hand, slowly guiding it onto her right breast. The moment we made contact, my hand shuddered, but her body shuddered even more. Neither of us dared to meet the other's gaze.

With a sudden burst of resolve, I opened my eyes and began to knead her right breast. Elena gave a small jolt, then immediately closed her eyes again, as if bracing herself for whatever was to come.

I climbed onto her bed, prompting her to lie flat, and began to caress her breasts with both hands. Even through the thin camisole and bra, the softness of her flesh and her rising body heat were palpable. As I lifted her top and unhooked her bra, she cooperated submissively, allowing me to strip away her defenses layer by layer.

Now, I could truly admire her snowy, white breasts, seeing them fully and directly for the first time. As my warm hands moved over them, the sensation seemed almost too much for her; her hands gripped the bedsheets tightly, and her face flushed a deeper crimson than before.

After an indeterminate amount of time spent caressing and kissing her, I began to slide off her panties. She offered no resistance; her legs, which had been pressed tightly together, parted slightly to accommodate me. Before me lay a completely naked, beautiful woman.

When my hand moved to her abdomen, her skin shivered at the warmth, though she clearly tried to endure it. Certain now that today would be the day I bid farewell to my virginity, I ventured deeper into the private garden between her beautiful thighs.

"Ah!" This time, Elena couldn't help but let out a soft moan. Her body arched, her hands grasping my left hand as it held her most intimate spot, her legs squeezing tight. "Ah! Elena, you're squeezing so hard it hurts!" I couldn't help but protest.

"Ah! S-sorry... did I hurt you?" She softened her body, lying back down and slowly relaxing her legs. We didn't speak again; we simply let the moment carry us forward.

I continued to tease her, knowing that a woman needed to be sufficiently wet to ensure the entry wouldn't be painful. I was determined to do this right. Judging by her initial boldness followed by this sudden shyness, she was likely trying to act experienced to put me at ease, only to find her body betraying her with overwhelming pleasure. She was likely still a virgin, despite her beauty—a beauty that surely must have attracted many handsome, wealthy suitors.

With my left hand continuing to stimulate her, my right hand wandered over her smooth, fragrant shoulders. My eyes scanned her like a connoisseur admiring a masterpiece, though I still avoided her eyes.

When the caressing slowed, Elena understood. She gave a small, soft nod of consent. With her permission, I shed my own clothes and climbed onto the bed, hovering over her, positioning myself between her legs.

Because of our height difference, we easily avoided a direct stare. I began to kiss her breasts, my right hand cupping the other, but the more I tried to distract myself, the more the presence of our overlapping bodies overwhelmed me. The warmth of her intimate skin made my blood boil.

My hard, aching member urged me to break through the final psychological barrier. I rose to my knees, gripping myself and gently rubbing against her, kissing her most sensitive parts. The sensation was intense; Elena bit her lip, her head tilting upward as she struggled to breathe.

I paused... She glanced at me, then lay back against the pillow, biting her lip. "Well, go on then! Don't be shy!" she said, acting as if it were no big deal.

My ability to think had long since vanished. At her command, I guided my length to her entrance. With a sharp "Mmm!" and a soft "Ah!" Elena let out a small cry, her lips pressed tight as she endured my initial thrust.

A wave of warmth and intense pressure enveloped my glans. My heart hammered in my chest, pumping blood to my groin. I could no longer worry about her potential pain; I was consumed by the sensation of sliding inch by inch into the tight, searing warmth of her vagina. "Ah... oh..." I groaned, the stimulation far too exquisite to contain.

As expected, the head of my member hit her hymen. The sensation sent a jolt of pure electricity through my spine, making my whole body tremble. "Yaaaaah!" With a primal roar, I used every ounce of strength to thrust forward, piercing through her. The gentleness vanished instantly; replaced by a frantic, powerful rhythm as I began to pump and grind, desperately seeking every drop of pleasure a man could crave.

On the bed, tossed and turned by my vigorous movements, the beautiful naked woman gripped the sheets with white knuckles, her eyes squeezed shut and her teeth clenched, enduring the extreme sensations brought on by her brother's passion.

The pleasure of the friction flooded my brain. Dazed, I watched the flush spread across her skin as she was invaded by me. I moved my hips even faster, harder, finally experiencing the "ecstasy" that had previously only existed in the pages of books.

Suddenly, a thought flashed through my mind: *She's my sister! Elena! Oh, god, she's my sister! I'm... I'm fucking her! Incest!? AAAAAHHHHH!* The realization only served to fuel my frenzy. I thrust even more violently, driving myself into her, losing all sense of propriety as I claimed her.

I pressed my full weight against her, my hands sliding under her back to grip her shoulders, pinning her down so I could continue my frantic, desperate assault.

Elena could no longer hold back! Her hands clamped onto my back, her legs wrapping tightly around my waist. She abandoned all thought of the pain of her first time, losing herself entirely in the friction and the heat of our joined bodies.

The intensity of a first encounter is overwhelming, and the added weight of our taboo only turned us into beasts of passion. The stimulation reached a fever pitch, dragging us both toward the precipice. Amidst the sounds of my heavy breathing and frantic thrusting, Elena collapsed into a convulsive climax, her internal muscles pulsing rhythmically around me.

"Ahhhhhhh!!!! Ah! Ah! Ah...!!!" After one final, rapid succession of thrusts, I finally released my scalding seed deep within her, pouring every last drop into the depths of her womb.

"Hey!! Get up! Mom and Dad are coming home!! Do you want to be beaten to death!? Get... up...!" Elena shouted, pulling me forcefully off the bed.

"Whoa!?" I tumbled onto the floor, looking around in confusion. "Huh? Why am *a* here?"

"What are you acting so strange for? This is your room! Are you still half-asleep?" Elena replied with a teasing, tender smile.

"Was it... wasn't it...? Sigh, just a dream?" I muttered to myself, feeling a profound sense of loss.

Elena's smile grew even more enchanting. "What kind of dream was it? You look so disappointed. Sorry for interrupting your beautiful dream! Now get up! It's already nine at night; if Mom and Dad see you still sleeping, they'll kill you!" Having said her piece, she regained her mature, composed demeanor, her playful side vanishing as quickly as it had appeared.

She began to walk away, her steps calm and graceful.

"Elena!" I called out.

She turned back, her eyes as sparkling and captivating as ever.

"My little brother left a 'trace' of you on him!"

She paused, her expression softening into that familiar tone of mock pity. "...If I hadn't done that, how could my cute, poor little brother ever hope to win a beautiful woman's first time?"

"I don't know about that," I grinned, "but at least now we know he can make a beauty climax!"

"...You little rascal..." Elena stammered, her face flushing a beautiful, shy red.