When it came time to go to bed, she had somewhat sobered up, but was pouty, breasts heaving in this corset. I started to grab my sleeping bag and she teased me for failing to find a girl. She then "begrudgingly" let me sleep in her big tent for old time sake.


She then complained to me (being rarely vulnerable for her snarky self) that it was a waste of makeup and putting the corset on. I unlaced it and turned around as she used her large trunk as a small cover and she changed. I was a boy scout and didn't peek.


To the chorus of others laughing around fires, fucking in tents, and snoring, we cuddled under a pile of blankets, stinking a bit of sweat and alcohol. She's a few years older than me - and I had really never drank before that.

Now in a tunic (?? To be honest, it was just a hand made old shirt, meant to be from an older century. I don't know names of shit) and fishnets, my sister pressed her head into my shoulder and explained about her ex being there with a girl and how it killed her mood. She swung a thigh over mine and settled in.

(About her being hot: I want to thank you? I think? I shouldn't find my sister hot, but this shaped my brain)