AJ has a fine pair of legs.

“B-Big Mac, stoppit. I’m yer sister.”
 
This was met by a much rougher grope, his palm stroking her ass with enough force to send both cheeks jiggling for a second. She felt his thumb travel down the cleavage of her ass cheeks, spreading her open for him to see.
 
“I don’t see how that’s s’posed to stop me. ‘Specially after what you did yesterday.”, he emphasized this by grinding his bulge against her slightly opened labia, watching her shoulders hunch a bit as she undoubtedly bit her lip, “Ya sure weren’t acting like any sister o’ mine.”
 
“That was different! My estrus was outta control!”, she said, moving to pull his hand away. He didn’t budge, physically or argument wise.
 
“So that’s your excuse, now? ‘My biology made me do it’? ‘It was my hormones’?”, he said as he released her ass, watching the orange coated flesh giggle deliciously with freedom. As she released his wrist, he seized hers, spinning her around to face him, “If that’s the case AJ, then you can’t blame me either. Imma slave to my hormones too.”
 
“Mac,let-let go o’me!”, she whined as she struck him in the chest in vein. He’s built as solid as a cement block, with a grip to match. He grabbed her other wrist and held both arms over her head, pinning her to the wall, “Stop Mac, this ain’t right!”
 
“It wasn’t right then either, sis.”, He said as he smiled down at her, his green eyes predatory as he moved closer to her, “But is was natural waznit?”, he leaned down and kissed her neck licking along her trembling neck muscles, feeling her shudder and writhe, her breath shallow, struggles crawling to a hault. Her pulse was going a mile a minute, he could feel it through her bare breasts pressed against his tshirt clad chest.
 
Drawing back, he looked at her. That little paperthin mask of anger and disgust had fallen away, leaving nothing but a flushed mare pinned to the wall by an eager stallion.
 
“Mac… We shouldn’t be doin’ this.”
 
He chuckles, whispering a few words of carnal wisdom softly into her ear before kissing her fully on the lips. He releases her wrists, and her hands fist into the back of his shirt as he grabs her waist, leading her to the bed.
 
His words echo in her head as he kisses down her neck, across her breast and between her legs.
 
‘Blame it on nature.’
 
His pants are unbuttoned, her hands pushing and pulling them down and guiding what they find to her honeypot.
 
‘Blame it on biology.’
 
He’s pressed deep into her, her clawing at his back as he finishes what she started.
 
‘Say it was the pheromones.’
 
She’s lost in the haze, gripping onto him as he presses harder and faster.
 
‘Say you couldn’t fight your hormones.’
 
She doesn’t resist anymore, feeling him lose himself, and his load, within her. She’s a slave to her hormones, rehashed by her brother; slirred on by her whore moans.

 

Did anyone else see a purple hand at first?

Big mac? heck yes