Chapter 1: Morning Temptation
Delilah sauntered down the creaky stairs of her family’s old farmhouse, the scent of burnt toast and fresh coffee wafting up to greet her. Home for spring break, the 21-year-old college junior had been wrestling with her own insatiable desires ever since the virus hit five years ago. Her body, like so many others, had transformed—her once familiar curves now accompanied by a throbbing, massive cock that demanded attention at the most inconvenient times. She’d learned to manage it, mostly, but the hunger never truly left.
As she rounded the corner into the kitchen, her breath caught in her throat. There, at the worn oak table, sat her 19-year-old sister, Mara, her hand wrapped around her own enormous shaft, stroking with a fierce, desperate rhythm. The sight was both shocking and maddeningly familiar—after all, they’d both been changed by the same curse. Mara’s eyes were half-lidded, her lips parted in a soft moan, completely oblivious to Delilah’s entrance.
‘Well, damn, Mara,’ Delilah drawled, leaning against the doorframe with a smirk, her own arousal stirring traitorously at the sight. ‘Couldn’t wait ‘til after breakfast to polish the family silver?’
Mara’s eyes snapped open, a flush creeping up her neck, but she didn’t stop. If anything, her grip tightened, her strokes growing bolder. ‘Oh, please, sis,’ she shot back, her voice dripping with defiance. ‘Like you haven’t been sneaking off to jerk that beast of yours every chance you get. I’m just not a hypocrite about it.’
Delilah chuckled, stepping closer, her gaze locked on Mara’s flushed face. ‘Touché. But there’s a difference between discretion and turning the kitchen into your personal spank bank. Mom’s gonna have a fit if she catches you dripping all over her precious table.’
Mara grinned, a wicked glint in her eye. ‘Then you’d better help me finish quick, huh? Unless you’re just gonna stand there gawking like a horny little voyeur.’
The challenge hung in the air, electric and dangerous. Delilah felt the heat pooling low in her belly, her own cock hardening under her loose pajama pants. She should walk away—hell, she *knew* she should—but the raw, primal need in Mara’s voice was a siren call she couldn’t ignore. ‘You’ve got a mouth on you, little sis,’ she purred, closing the distance between them. ‘Careful, or I might just shut it for you.’
Mara’s laugh was sharp, taunting. ‘Big talk for someone who’s still fully dressed. What, scared you can’t keep up with me? I’ve been wet and aching since I woke up, Delilah. Don’t make me beg.’
That did it. Delilah’s restraint snapped like a taut wire. She shoved her pants down, freeing her own throbbing, hard length, already glistening with precum. Mara’s eyes darkened with lust, her strokes faltering for just a moment as she took in the sight. ‘Fuck, you’re huge,’ she breathed, her voice raw. ‘Come closer. Let me see it.’
Delilah obliged, stepping right up to the table, her cock bobbing with every movement. The air between them crackled, thick with unspoken tension and forbidden want. Mara reached out, her fingers brushing Delilah’s tip, sending a jolt of pure heat through her. ‘You’re gonna regret starting this,’ Delilah warned, her voice low and dangerous, even as her hips twitched forward, craving more of that touch.
‘Try me,’ Mara shot back, her grip tightening around her own shaft as she leaned forward, her lips hovering just inches from Delilah’s dripping head. The promise of what was coming next hung heavy between them—sweating, panting, and utterly unstoppable.
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