Losing Myself To My Sister free porn video

Hello, my name is Alison and I have a story to share. This is not an easy tale to tell. Basically, it's a situation that was beyond my control. Inevitable so to speak and the worst part is that I knew it was going to happen. There was just no way of preventing it. It's situations like this that are so unfair in the world. The way some girls are just born beautiful and have life easy, while others have nothing. Regardless of what people may tell you, beauty is an advantage in today's society and even more so when the girl knows it is the case. Most people despise these arrogant young ladies, but surprisingly, I adore them.
 

My name is Alison Bailey, I am twenty-one years old and yes: I have a confession. From as far back as sixteen, I have been attracted to girls and in particular their feet. I don't know why this is, but there is just something about a female foot that turns me on and I can't help myself when I see one. It's as if it is genetic. Feet have always been sexual to me, and not just any feet either. At least if it was a guy’s feet I could have adapted to my strange fetish. But, no, I had to be attracted to girls' feet. The devastating part is that I do like guys as well; I'm just addicted to a girl's pretty foot! Of course, as it’s not really socially accepted, I keep my fetish to myself, as it would be quite embarrassing if it got out. Therefore, I have never actually had a girlfriend and my family does not know of my secret. I had fully intended to keep it this way by suppressing my feelings, but unfortunately everything has spiralled completely out of control.

My fetish itself, well, I find it difficult to explain. I just like them. The way they smell, especially after being confined to a sneaker all day. The way they look; a new pedicure always makes my pussy wet. The way they taste; I'd often sneak a lick of my friend’s feet during sleepovers. It was just an addiction that as far as I knew had no cure. There were no special patches or revolutionary gum to help me get over it, and every day in school I would see girls stretching and flexing their feet. Growing up was a real struggle, as in my younger days I really had no clue why I felt so strongly about my female classmates’ shoes and feet. It both aroused and tormented me.

All of this would have been fine, however. I could have coped and restructured my life so that I could function normally. Perhaps I could occasionally sneak a sniff of my best friend's feet while she slept or lick her shoes whenever I visited. That would have been satisfactory, she would never know and I would feed my addiction. However, there was one problem: Tiffany.

The story of my descent revolves entirely around my younger sister Tiffany. She is eighteen years of age and it is already clear that she is growing into a really beautiful woman. Her breasts are much larger than mine, even though I am almost four years older and this is quite humiliating for me as I am supposed to be the older sister. However, I am a little taller as she is quite short, and whereas I have reddish hair, Tiffany is a natural blonde. I’ve always looked at her as a little spoiled brat and we aren't really close as she always seemed so annoying when we were younger, but recently things have started to change.

We didn't really get along due to the age difference. It may not seem that big a difference, but I can assure everyone that at that age it definitely is. She always wanted to hang out with me and my friends, but being realistic, it was never going to happen. I was far too cool to let my little sister hang around with me, plus she had her own friends anyway. I had never really had any time for her, and as far as I was concerned it was a perfect setup.

As sisters, our relationship was typical. We constantly argued as all siblings do, but it was often Tiffany that was the instigator of our bickering. She just had a way of pissing me off and she did it often, almost as if on purpose. I’ve thought for some time that she despised me for being the older sister, especially when our mother would go out and leave me in charge. But, it did make sense; I was older and therefore I deserved the responsibility. She may have disliked this fact, but there was nothing that she could do about it. That was until I let her.

We did differ slightly in that Tiffany is an extrovert, whereas I'm more reserved. Her clothes were always more revealing and she held a natural confidence, something which I envied but could never duplicate. This forwardness was actually a big problem for me, as she was always teasing and hooking up with the local boys. With each new guy she came home with, the more people noticed that I didn’t. I found myself more than a little jealous of her sexual experience as I was lagging some way behind. As a result, I would often be a little hard on her when our mother was out, more out of my envy than any fault on her part.
 

Now, coming back to more recent events, I can remember the exact moment my opinion of my sister swayed from looking at her as a child to the sexy woman that she has become. I had just returned from a hard day at work and I wanted nothing more than to crash out on the sofa. However, as I entered the living room I was greeted by the sight of Tiffany splayed out across it, sound asleep.

Typical, I thought, she spends all day doing nothing and then hogs the sofa! I marched right up to her fully intent on disturbing her slumber. I saw one of the cushions that had fallen to the floor, and I thought it would be funny to hit her over the head with it. That was until I noticed her feet propped up on the arm of the chair and as my eyes trailed across her purple polished toes I felt a little flutter in my belly. I had never actually thought about Tiffany’s feet, as she was my sister and it had just never occurred to me.

I tried to look away, knowing that the deep excitement within me would only lead to trouble. The feelings I felt confused me, I wanted to both look away and stare at the same time. I thought it was a safe compromise to sneak a few glances while I put my bag down, but eventually my curiosity got the better of me. Like a little kid, I found myself flat out staring at my sister's tanned feet and I felt somewhat ashamed. As I stood looking down at her bare feet, I realised how perfectly formed they were and it suddenly dawned on me that I was aroused.

Many thoughts were running through my mind. I wondered what they smelt like and whether they had a strong odour. Also, her toes looked so very succulent and I was curious as to how they tasted. Oh God, what was I thinking!?! This was my little sister after all and here I was fantasising about sniffing and tasting her feet. These thoughts were wrong and I tried to shake them away, but I was really struggling while seeing the soles of her feet facing me. So, unable to control myself, I reasoned that a quick sniff wouldn't hurt and she'd never find out anyway.

Nervously checking that she was still asleep, I quietly fell to my knees at the end of the couch and situated myself between her feet. From my position, I could already tell that my sister’s feet were quite smelly and I became very excited at the prospect of sniffing them. She was a high school cheerleader and I could only imagine how sweaty her feet had got that day during practice. In her position she was lying on her front, both feet hanging over the arm of the couch, with her toes pointed towards the floor. I placed my nose about an inch from her sole and traced the curves of her arch down towards her toes, sniffing away the entire time and finding myself completely lost in the aroma.
 

That night I lay awake in bed, unable to sleep as I repeated the events of the day over in my mind. I knew there was no turning back now; I had given in to temptation and now I needed more. I’d opened Pandora's Box as it were or taken that first hit of heroin. Every day when I’d see my little sister I’d think about that smell. There was no way to resist if her socks were waiting in the laundry basket, or her shoes were carelessly kicked off in the living room. But with all this in mind, there was one thing that I had going for me: it was still a secret.

For hours I lay there trying to make sense of it all. How could I cope with this sudden access to feet? To be honest, I was worried that I'd lose control. Readily available feet were something I wasn't accustomed to, and I feared that I would carelessly out myself. Serious considerations needed to be made. If I was to make this a regular thing then there was a risk of getting caught. I could just stick to her socks and shoes, but now I knew they were nothing compared to the real thing.
 

Well, to summarise, I made the wrong decision and events quickly spiralled out of control. My downfall began one Friday afternoon. I’d spent the day working my arse off at the telesales job I had over the summer. It was rubbish work, mainly because no one wanted to buy the stained-glass windows, but at least I was getting a bit of cash at the end of every week. Unlike myself, while I had spent a tiring day in my cramped office, my sister had exhausted herself in a much different way. Tiffany had spent the entire day strolling around the local mall.

Like before, as I entered the living room I was greeted with the sight of my younger sister napping peacefully on the couch. I’d spent the last few weeks trying to avoid her at all costs, as I knew I would do something stupid in my new lust. I’d even managed to refrain from sniffing her socks and shoes, and I was quite proud of myself for my good behaviour.

Yet, this time I wasn't bothered about her hogging all of the room, but rather I was pleased and excited that she was asleep. She’d kicked off her sneakers beneath the coffee table, leaving only her cute white socks upon her sweaty feet, propped up invitingly on the arm of the chair. Now there was an inviting scene I just couldn’t refuse. As much as I tried to resist, I knew that her feet were going to win me over.

I gazed eagerly at her slumbering form, licking my lips while I pondered where to begin. I’d always known that my sister was cute; we both were. But now I was looking at her in a different way. No longer was she a pretty girl, but rather a sexy woman, and it confused me. These feelings were wrong; I should not have been looking at my sister in this way. It all made me somewhat angry, the fact that she could control my body without even knowing it. I despised the way the scent of her feet would turn me on and make me long for her. There were so many questions; with the main one being why did her sweaty feet appeal to me so much? I could already see that it was going to be a big problem with us living in the same house.

My mother's keys were on the table, and the faint sound of the shower upstairs led me to assume the obvious. I guessed that I had at least ten minutes at Tiffany’s feet, what with the time it would take my mother to finish showering and to dry off. It would be safer to just steal a few sniffs and not get too into it, as I didn't want my mother coming down and catching me at it. What a shock that would be for her, and I'd never hear the end of it.

Like the occasion before, I knelt at the end of the couch, placing my hands on the arm rest with her feet in between. However, unlike the previous session, this time Tiffany was asleep on her back, forcing me to stretch upwards to comfortably smell away. A sigh escaped my lips as I took that first whiff of her sweaty socks. If only she’d known how much I appreciated her shopping spree. The odour was stronger than before, and my fingers clutched the couch’s fabric as I took sniff after sniff. I even had to stifle a few moans as the fragrance was really hitting the right spots.

All of this time, I’d had these incredible feet under the same roof and I hadn't even noticed them. The possibilities were endless. Many scenarios were floating through my mind as I continued to excitedly breathe in her funky foot odour. I could smell her sneakers, sandals, and flip-flops any time I wanted! She always left her shoes lying around the house. Plus, there were her socks and tights, and of course the odd occasion like the one I was currently enjoying. I felt a familiar sensation between my legs as I pondered the fun ahead of me, and taking a deep breath, I spread my knees and slipped my hand beneath my skirt.

My exploration of her feet was almost frantic; my nose darted from heel to toes, arch to ankle, searching for the strongest scent. Finding a particularly sweet spot, my fingers wrapped around her foot, pressing my nose into the groove beneath her toes. It was a bold move, almost foolish, but she didn't react and it only spurred me on. The fingers of my other hand danced over my underwear as I gently started to play with myself. Then, selfishly, I slipped my panties aside and probed away, all the while taking in the aroma of her gorgeous feet.

As I felt myself nearing climax I knew I needed more, and with my growing arousal my inhibitions soon drifted away. I glanced back, and confirming the sound of the shower was still there, I moved onwards with my secret worship. Slipping a finger into her sock, I tried to gently peel it from her foot without awakening her. The sweat made my task difficult, sticking the material snugly to her foot like an extra layer of skin. I even let out a whimper due to the frustration as my fingers slowly rolled the sock down her ankle. Meanwhile, my other hand continued rhythmically massaging my clitoris, only increasing my torment and leading me to carelessly tug at the sock.

With my nose buried beneath the toes of one foot and my hand trying in vain to remove the sock from the other, I must have looked a truly pathetic sight. Yet, I'd never felt so horny and excited in my entire life. Fuelled with complete idiocy, the kind only selfish pleasure can produce, I pulled the sock right from her foot, discarding it on the floor and going straight for the kill. A spark of electricity jolted through me as my lips touched her sole for the first time. I found her skin to be damp and pleasant tasting, as I placed a number of quick kisses along her instep.

Reaching the point of no return and unable to control myself in the slightest, I slipped my tongue onto her arch and began lapping eagerly at her foot sweat. The taste was like none other, by far the sweetest flavour imaginable. Even my sleepover adventures with my friends paled in comparison to my sister’s girl sweat. I could feel myself ready to climax as my tongue snaked between her toes, licking the sock fuzz from the crevice.

Right at that moment, with my eyes closed, my hips rocking against my hand, and my pussy dripping all over my fingers, I heard the dreaded words: “W-what are you doing?”

It took a moment for me to register what I heard, then with my eyes still closed, the blood instantly drained from my face, shortly followed by that horrible feeling when you panic, your body tingling all over and your stomach turning. The voice belonged to none other than the feet I was licking right at that moment. It had happened right at the height of my pleasure, and I nervously slipped my tongue from her toes, biting my lip desperately, trying to suppress my orgasm and a lifetime of embarrassment to boot.

I opened my eyes and saw my sister staring in shock between her feet. Her blue eyes still looked sleepy, but much to my dismay she was completely awake. She sat there with confusion all over her face, her mouth dropping open at the scene before her. My body still shook momentarily as I came back down to earth, and realising my humiliating posture, I closed my legs while the couch still hid my shame. The situation was overwhelming and I didn’t have a clue what to do. I was busted big time and all because I couldn't take my time with her feet. I had to do something, and fast.

Without thinking, I quickly leapt to my feet, wrapping my hand around her mouth and raising a finger to my lips. Straight away I was hit with the smell of my own juices, and I hoped she didn't notice it too. I was surprised at my spontaneity, as to be honest I was trembling all over. It must have been adrenaline, as I was thinking fast and needed to keep her quiet just for the time being, so I could at least throw up an excuse. If she squealed to my mother about this, I'd be in deep trouble. She'd talked about me being old enough to move out in the past, and this would be the perfect excuse to get shot of me. That meant paying rent and doing my own washing, no thanks, and on top that there would be the shame of it all. I imagined my family would disown me over a scandal of this magnitude.

“Ali, I'm confused,” my little sister mumbled between my fingers, breaking the uncomfortable silence between us. She looked so innocent with her eyes peeking out above my hand, and sensing her vulnerability I withdrew my fingers. To be fair, her reaction was understandable; it's not every day that you wake up and catch your sister licking your feet.

Trying to reassure her, I moved to the front of the couch, staying on my knees and taking her hands in my own. As I knelt before her I gently caressed her fingers with my thumbs, all the while looking up into her eyes and trying to think of an explanation. Even with my current act of idiocy, and the fact that we didn't get on, we were still sisters. There was no real option other than to tell her the truth; it was pretty obvious what I was doing to her feet.

“I'm sorry, Tiffany, it won't happen again. Please don't say anything,” I pleaded desperately. From her eyes I could tell that she was unmoved by my apology, and I seriously believed myself to be in deep trouble.

“So, you're, like, in love with my feet or something?” she asked, ignoring my plea and staring downwards intently. Her attitude was confusing and I found it unreadable. She was sort of smirking at me, but I couldn’t be sure how angry she was. There seemed to be a hint of amusement in her tone but I didn't want to risk anything at this point. Self-preservation was the current agenda. In reaction to her words, the worst part was that it was true; my secret was now out in the open. Some people will tell you that the loss of such a burden is a relief. I can assure you it is complete devastation.

“I think I should tell Mom…” She sort of trailed off and rolled her eyes up to the right as if pondering a thought, then violently brought them back to meet mine. The aggression in her glance startled me and I felt my temperature rising as her lips curled evilly.

We both knew what had just happened and I felt a part of me both die and ignite. I could tell by the way she had trailed off, and then that look. Oh, that look. I was doomed. It was a knowing acknowledgment of superiority, one that I had imagined on many a woman, but never her. I could see the cogs turning in her head as she considered the opportunity I had just stupidly presented to her.

I’d pictured this situation over and over in my head. I knew I'd eventually get caught at a girl’s feet; my addiction was far too strong. But I always predicted one of my gorgeous friends discovering me, often with the fairy tale ending of them letting me secretly worship them. This, however, was my worst nightmare. Of all the people in my life, I had let my bratty little sister capture me. I had pretty much given her the upper hand and guaranteed myself to doing whatever she wanted. If I didn’t appease her, she would reveal my secret to everyone.

I guessed that the situation was more like a dream come true for Tiffany. She'd always wanted to be the one in charge, and this recent turn of events had given her the perfect opportunity to take it. I knew there was no way that she would let this chance slip by, not that I wanted her to anyway. She finally had me right where she wanted, down at her feet and I only had myself to blame. It was all quite tense, as my fate lay in her hands. It seemed the only way out of this was to put myself at her mercy.

“Please don't tell Mom, Tiffany,” I almost whined up at her. She pulled her hands from my own, bringing them up and crossing her arms at her chest. Her feet rolled up onto her heels momentarily, and then she bounced her toes on the floor a few times, rocking her soles up and down. There was no doubting it now; she was amused and I was baffled by how I should respond. Her feet drummed the floor impatiently as she looked on expectantly, waiting for me to act.

In a mark of desperation, I crouched down and placed a quick peck on each of her feet, lingering slightly longer on the bare one. I acted as if I was showing her my subservience, but I also had my own selfish reasons for kissing her feet. They really were pretty. The smell was intoxicating, and I peeked up from the floor to see if she was happy with my display. Her face was confusing to read, she still seemed a little freaked out, but I had a deep feeling within that she was secretly enjoying it.

“I'll do anything if you don't tell Mom,” I said, trying to gain her silence, before placing a series of quick affectionate kisses all over her feet, looking up at her occasionally. My body shook all over as I realised I may really be in trouble. Any sign of approval at all from her would have been enough to temporarily reassure me, but she wasn't giving me any positive signals.

I must have been a truly pathetic sight to her. Here I was, grovelling at the feet of my eighteen-year-old sister, begging her not to tell on me. It was like being infants again, as if I had just broken our mother's favourite vase. I suspected Tiffany was revelling in my humiliation, even though she was showing no clear sign of it. Her only movement was to occasionally rotate her feet, allowing me to plant kisses all over as she looked on curiously.

“Bring me your pink strappy heels!” she suddenly snapped, lightly kicking my face away from her. I had just started to really get into the kissing, so the kick was quite unexpected. As a result, it took me a moment to register her words and once I finally did, I was unable to hide my reaction.

My mouth hung open, surprised at the sheer audacity of her request. Of all the things that I was expecting her to say, I hadn't considered anything like that. I assumed she’d scream for our mother or call me a pervert, but this was something else. It was a sign of things to come, mainly her intention to use my fetish against me.

She knew that those heels were out of bounds. Many times, in the past, she had asked to borrow them, and my answer had always been the same: no. They were my treasured pair, I'd worn them to my senior prom and they held so many memories. Tiffany knew that I would never willingly give them to her, but now things were different. She was holding all of the cards and I came to realise just how silly I had been. There was no way I could tell her what to do anymore, but still, I didn't want to give in to her demand so easily.

“You said you'd do anything, prove it,” she added, obviously understanding my hesitance. Her gaze was piercing, making me feel more than a little intimidated. I felt my lip quiver with anger, but deep down inside I knew that there was no way of changing her mind. Still, it was worth a try, even if it was unlikely.

“You know you’re not allowed to wear those heels, they’re special,” I countered, trying to sound as serious as possible, but failing miserably.

“I'm going out with Josh tonight, and I want to wear them. You said anything, and that's what I want. It's either that or I tell Mom.” She was quietly smug with her ultimatum. She did have a point; I had said anything, but that wasn't what bothered me. It was the fact that she didn't seem at all uneasy with what had occurred. I could not understand how comfortable she appeared with the idea of me lusting after her feet, and particularly the ease with which she used it to gain the upper hand.

“Fine,” I sighed, exhaling heavily while giving in to her demand. She could have the heels. If it was a choice between her taking the heels and telling Mom, there was no question which I'd prefer.

I slumped off to my bedroom to collect my favourite pair of shoes. My shoulders hung in defeat as I dragged myself up the stairs. All the while I scowled to myself, angry that I had been so stupid. I entered my room and looked down at the heels. I always kept them near the door, as if teasing my sister. She could see them whenever she passed, but she knew they were out of bounds. I thought it was funny to dangle them in front of her without ever letting her wear them. They were the most expensive pair I had, costing far more than all of her pairs put together. I sighed as I took them in my hands, thinking of the wonderful times we'd spent together as I made my way back to my sister. Her grin as I entered the living room was provoking to say the least, and I wanted to slap her so badly.

“Put them on me,” she teased, causing me to grimace then reluctantly kneel at her feet. I tried to avoid looking at her face as she made no attempt to hide her joy at my obedience. She must have removed her sock while I was upstairs, as it lay on the floor next to her sneakers.

Gently cradling her foot in my palm, I slipped the heel over her toes, all the while marvelling at the contrast of pink straps and tanned skin. She teasingly wiggled her toes as they came to rest against the leather, wafting her sweet fragrance in my direction. It was useless trying to hide my arousal, so I crouched before her and openly inhaled her sweet scent. However, Tiffany was unwilling to allow me the pleasure of sniffing her delightful peds. Obviously, due to her excitement, she kicked me away then jumped to her feet, standing proud in her new heels.

The shoes were definitely cute on her, and she twirled on the spot to display so. Her feet came to rest side by side, and I gazed up her tanned legs beneath her skirt, catching an eyeful of her panties. She must have noticed my perversion, as she gave a jokingly stern look, raising her eyebrow and crossing her arms. I blushed in response, but allowed my eyes to linger for a few seconds, before dropping obediently to the floor in defeat.

Almost randomly, I leant forward and placed a soft kiss on each of her feet, deciding that a deep smooch on both big toenails was more appropriate than a quick peck. I don't know why I felt it necessary to do so without being prompted, but it just seemed the right thing to do. I masturbated to similar scenes in the past, and now that I was living one for real, I was finding it very difficult to hide my submissive tendencies. Tiffany seemed more than pleased at my gesture, her mood obvious by the excited laugh she let out.

“This is so weird. I don't really understand what is up with you, but I like it. I need some time to think things over. I guess we'll talk later,” she muttered to herself while looking down at my favourite heels. She seemed to be in a daydream, more than likely pondering the new power that I'd given her. If it wasn't for the light pat on my head as she passed me by, I would have thought she was completely ignoring me.

As she excitedly strode up the stairs I kicked myself for being such an idiot. There was no point in trying to kid myself; I knew I was in deep shit. She'd already got me to hand over my heels, something that I'd refused to do for many years. Yet, less than five minutes after discovering my fetish she was wearing them out to a date. I felt a lingering in my stomach, something which I had never felt before: dread.
 

It was about midnight when I heard a car pull up outside. I'd been dozing while watching the television when I heard her stumble in. I'd spent the night thinking things over, trying to delude myself with the possibility of things going back to normal. As far as I could tell there was no realistic way out, other than to tell my mother before Tiffany did. Of course, that just wasn't an option, and the problem was that Tiffany would know it too.

I rose from my seat after a few minutes as she still had not come into the living room. Whatever she was doing in the hallway was making a right racket and I was worried that she might wake our mother. I quickly opened the door, luckily just in time to catch her as she fell towards me. She was obviously drunk, and Mum would go through the roof if she caught her. Right then a wicked thought crossed my mind; perhaps I could get some leverage and threaten to tell on her. It would be a little agreement; I wouldn't talk about her drinking in exchange for her keeping silent about our earlier incident. It seemed like a good plan, and I decided to play it cool, before springing my deal on her when she least expected it.

“My God, Tiffany, you’re totally wasted,” I gasped in mock surprise.

“Shhhhhhhhh, don’t tell,” she giggled, hanging her head back over my arm. Her breath stank of alcohol and from her narrowing eyelids I could tell she was close to passing out. That wasn't necessarily a good thing; from my many nights out I knew that she was at the stage where inhibitions were completely gone. Her body was close to limp in my arms, and staggering together we headed for the couch before she collapsed.

Once she was seated, I slipped to my knees and began to remove my heels from her feet. I figured that this was the best time to take them from her, while she was almost incapacitated. The straps had left indentations in her fragile skin, which to me was very cute. They must have also been sore as she moaned when my fingersTo continue reading this story you must be a member. Join for FREE here.