The moon hung low and heavy in the sky, a silver eye watching the quiet backyard of the Kabua hut. After Fuyu's retreating figure had vanished into the shadows of the doorway, the air outside remained thick with a scent that was alien to the crisp night breeze. Sara stood alone for a moment, her palm still wet and glistening with the pearly evidence of her brother's release.
Involuntarily, as if drawn by a tether she could not see, Sara brought her hand toward her face. She closed her eyes, her nostrils flaring as she took a long, deep, and tremulous breath. The smell hit her like a physical wave—pungent, musky, and heavy with the primal essence of a manhood that had ripened overnight. It was intoxicating. Her head began to spin, a dizzying heat spreading from her chest down to her very core.
"Oh my," she whispered to herself, her voice a ragged thread in the dark. "So erotic... so attractive." She struggled with the internal contradiction; her mind told her the scent was sharp and almost salty, something that should be repulsive, yet her body screamed that it was the most alluring thing she had ever encountered. "How can something this smelly be so delicious? Yasu's seeds are not even comparable. They lack this thickness, this intense, manly bite."
She stood there, lost in a trance of sensory overload. The pheromones seemed to bypass her reason entirely, hitting her right inside her womb. She felt a phantom tugging in her belly, her pregnancy-sensitized body reacting to the concentrated vitality in her hand. For a split second, a truly sinful thought crossed her mind—to taste it, to see if the flavor matched the addictive potency of the scent. She was leaning in, her lips parted, when a voice like a whip-crack shattered the silence.
"Big Sister, are you sniffing that thing?"
Sara jolted, her heart nearly leaping into her throat. She whipped her hand away, turning to see Lara standing just a few paces away, her eyes wide and suspicious in the moonlight.
"Hah... what? No!" Sara stammered, her face flushing a deep crimson that was visible even in the dark. "I mean... I was just... I was just going to wash it off! Go back to sleep, Lara! And remember what I said—don't you dare tell anyone about this."
"I was just watching," Lara muttered, her voice trailing off as she stepped closer. She didn't look convinced. Before Sara could move to the water barrel, Lara reached out and grabbed her wrist. The younger girl's curiosity was a physical force. She pulled Sara's hand toward her own face, her nose wrinkling in anticipation.
Lara took a sniff. At first, she recoiled slightly, the sheer intensity of the "manly fruit" surprising her. But then, as the scent settled, she leaned back in. She took another breath, then another, her expression shifting from confusion to a strange, glazed sort of mesmerization.
"It's not... it's not like a flower," Lara whispered, her voice airy. "It's nasty, but... I can't stop looking at it. I can't let go." She compared the scent to the heavy, damp earth after a storm, mixed with the sweat of the hunt—it was the smell of survival and power.
Sara's eyes twitched. A flash of territorial annoyance flickered in her gut. Seeing her younger sister, a virgin who didn't even know the first thing about a man's needs, acting so shamelessly with the essence she had just worked so hard to extract was too much.
"Enough!" Sara hissed. She wrenched her hand back with a sudden, violent force and landed a sharp, stinging slap on the top of Lara's head.
"Oww!" Lara cried out, clutching her head and stumbling back. "What was that for?"
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Sara growled, her voice a low, dangerous vibration. "I'm doing this to help him, to keep him focused. You're just being a little brat. You've had your 'experience,' now get inside before I beat the hell out of you and make a big red rose bloom on your ass!"
The threat of a bruised backside from her elder sister was enough to send Lara retreating. She scurried back into the hut like a scolded kitten, her heart thumping. Once inside the safety of the dark room, she felt a strange, throbbing wetness between her own thighs. She touched herself briefly, a quiet gasp escaping her, before relieving herself in a corner pot and slipping into her bedding. She saw Fuyu there, sleeping soundly, his face peaceful now that the tension had been drained from him.
Sara returned minutes later. She had spent a long time at the water barrel, scrubbing her hands with sand and cool water, yet as she lay down, she could still swear she smelled him. The darkness of the room felt charged, heavy with secrets that were beginning to grow too large for the three of them.
As the household descended into deep sleep, the air around Fuyu's sleeping form seemed to shimmer. The pink spirit, the celestial hitchhiker within his body, emerged in a translucent glow. She hovered over the three siblings, a mischievous, predatory smile on her lips.
"That was a fine start," the spirit whispered, her voice a shimmering echo. "But these mortals are so restrained by their 'taboos.' They lack the true knowledge of the flesh. If they are to be my playthings, I must accelerate the process."
With a wave of her hand, she began to weave threads of primal desire into the tapestry of Fuyu's subconscious. She wasn't just giving him dreams; she was inducing a physiological shift. She enhanced his natural pheromones and sharpened the predatory edge of his developing lust. "Time to exploit that innocence," she giggled. "By the time the snow falls, they won't even recognize the 'siblings' they used to be."
The following days passed in a blur of grueling labor and deceptive normalcy. The men left for the fields every morning, Rana and Manu leading the way, while Yasu worked with a renewed vigor, buoyed by Sara's sudden, radiant happiness. He had no idea that his wife's good mood was fed by the secret nightly rituals she performed for another.
Fuyu, meanwhile, was changing. He was becoming more assertive, his eyes lingering longer on Nula's curves during breakfast, and his gaze turning dark and possessive when he looked at Lara and Sara. The spirit's influence was working; he was no longer a boy confused by his urges, but a young hunter beginning to understand his power.
Every night, the pattern repeated. Once the rhythmic snoring of Rana and Nula signaled safety, Fuyu would slip onto the mattress with the girls. The "treatment" had evolved. It was no longer just a quick release. Sara had become more daring, using her tongue to taste him, giving him soft smoches on the head of his shaft, her eyes meeting his in a silent, sinful pact.
Lara remained the spectator, but the jealousy was eating her alive. Every sound Fuyu made under Sara's touch felt like a hot coal pressed against Lara's skin. She would lie there, her breath hitching, watching her sister's hands move with expert precision. She began to daydream in the fields, imagining those hands were hers. She noticed how Fuyu's shoulders had broadened, how his jawline had sharpened. He had become an absolute specimen of a male—handsome, thick-limbed, and radiating a heat that made her dizzy.
"My good curry," Lara thought one afternoon while washing clothes at the stream. "Did he really become this handsome? Or am I just going mad?" She tried to deny it, but the memory of his scent and the sight of his "sword" in the moonlight was a quicksand she couldn't escape. The more she struggled against her feelings, the deeper she sank.
Finally, a night came when the tension reached its breaking point. The air was particularly cold, the wind howling through the cracks in the mud walls. Fuyu arrived in their room, his manhood already a stiff, demanding weight beneath his skirt.
The sisters exchanged a glance. There was no need for words; the hunger in their eyes was mutual. Sara reached for him, but this time, they didn't move.
"What, you don't want to go outside?" Fuyu whispered, his voice thick with anticipation.
"It's too cold," Lara said, her voice trembling. "Let's do it here. It's better this way."
"But if someone hears?" Fuyu asked.
"Then we do it under the blanket," Lara suggested. "If Mother or Father look in, they'll just see us huddling for warmth. They won't know what's happening beneath."
Sara shook her head, her practical nature warring with her desire. "No. If he shoots, it will ruin the blanket. I'm not sleeping in a sticky mess all night. We go to the backyard, but we make it quick."
They slipped out, the frost crunching under their feet. As they reached their secluded spot, Sara reached out to lift Fuyu's leaf skirt. Her hand was steady, her eyes locked on his growing erection. But just as she was about to make contact, Lara's voice cracked through the dark.
"Big Sister!"
Sara jumped, pulling her hand back instantly. "What? Is someone coming?" She looked around frantically, terrified of being caught in such a compromising position. If the village elders or Rana found out, the consequences would be lethal.
"No," Lara said, stepping forward. Her face was set in a look of grim determination. "It's my turn. It's always you, Sara. You're the one who gets to touch him, to feel him. I'm his big sister too. It's my duty to help him, and I want to do it tonight."
Sara frowned, her grip tightening on her own skirt. "No, Lara. You can't. You aren't married. You have to save yourself, preserve your purity for your future mate. That's what Mother taught us."
"I don't care about that!" Lara pleaded, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears of frustration. "I want to feel him. I want to know why you look so happy every night."
"No," Sara said firmly. "Just watch. You can learn for your future husband." She turned back to Fuyu and, in a display of dominance, reached out and squeezed his butt, her fingers digging into the muscle. Fuyu groaned, his penis jumping at the touch.
"But I want to do it with him!" Lara shouted, then immediately muffled her voice, looking at the hut.
"Don't be stubborn," Sara said. "I'm the married one. I know what I'm doing."
"Alright then!" Lara blurted out, her heart racing. "If I marry him, would that be fine? If I am his mate, then it's not a sin, right?"
The silence that followed was absolute. Even the wind seemed to die down. Sara stared at her sister in utter astonishment. "Marry him? Lara, he's... he's the boy we grew up with."
"He's not our blood!" Lara argued, her logic sharpened by weeks of obsession. "He needs a partner. I need a partner. If we marry, we stay here. We keep the family together. We don't have to worry about some stranger coming to take me away to another village. It makes sense, Sara!"
Sara looked at Fuyu. The spirit inside him nudged his mind, making him look even more desirable in the moonlight. "Well," Sara said, her voice softening as she processed the idea. If Lara married Fuyu, the secret stayed in the family forever. It would be a perfect arrangement. "What do you think, Fuyu? Mother and Father might actually agree if we explain it right."
Fuyu looked at Lara, then at Sara. His primal desires, fueled by the spirit, cared little for the long-term logistics of marriage, but he knew what he wanted right now. "I'm fine with it," he said casually, a smirk playing on his lips. "Marrying or not is for later. Right now... I just want to enjoy."
Sara sighed, a resigned but excited smile crossing her face. "Fine. If you're willing to take him as your mate, then you can start your 'training.' But remember, Lara—not a word to Mother. Not yet."
Lara didn't need to be told twice. She dropped to her knees in front of Fuyu, her breath coming in ragged gasps. With trembling hands, she reached out and took hold of his thick, throbbing length. She gasped at the heat of it, the sheer scale of him feeling even more impressive now that she was the one holding it.
She began to stroke him, her movements clumsy at first but quickly finding a rhythm. She watched, mesmerized, as the skin moved over the head of his shaft. Then, driven by a sudden, overwhelming impulse, she leaned in. She didn't just watch like her sister; she began to passionately lick him, her tongue exploring the sensitive ridges just as she had seen a dog lick a piece of meat.
Sara stood above them, her breath catching in her throat. Watching her "innocent" little sister worshiping Fuyu's manhood was the most intensely erotic thing she had ever witnessed. Her own body felt like it was on fire. She watched the way Lara's hair fell over Fuyu's thighs, the way his hips bucked under the girl's ministrations.
The heat in Sara's pussy became a demanding ache. She was prohibited from sex, her husband Yasu was out of reach, and here, right in front of her, was the most potent male force she had ever known being serviced by her sister. She felt a wave of dizziness, her instincts screaming for her to join in, to feel that thick, cum-covered shaft in her own mouth.
But she held herself back, her knuckles white as she gripped her skirt. She watched as Lara worked him toward the peak, the girl's face covered in a mix of concentration and pure, animalistic lust. When Fuyu finally shuddered, his seeds erupting with a force that made Lara gasp, Sara felt a jolt of vicarious pleasure so strong her knees buckled.
The three of them stood in the dark backyard, the secret bond between them now forged in the fire of shared sin. As they turned to go back inside, Sara knew that the boundaries of their family had been redrawn. Lara was no longer just a sister, and Fuyu was no longer just a brother. They were a pack, driven by a hunger that the winter would only serve to sharpen.