Ames was sitting on the couch when I walked into the main house; the laptop she'd been doing her coding on lay cast to the side in favor of the controller for the video game on screen. I smiled as my eyes drank her in. She was in gray sweats as fate would have it, her short blonde tresses pulled up in a small bun; some strands were stubbornly falling and framing her face, green eyes intent on the screen, while her brows furrowed in concentration. Turns out she wasn't wearing a bra either. I could tell because her nipples poked hard and ready beneath her fitted tank top. Too pale to be seen against the white, but my mouth watered at the thought of having them in my mouth. Pinched between my fingers.
I'd chosen my clothing carefully. A thin little mini dress hugged my figure, white with little cherries dotted all over it. I figured she'd like that. The veil of innocence she kept trying to convince herself I still held. My long hair hung over my shoulder, and white wedge sandals were my only accessories. No jewelry, panties, or bra. But my breasts were heavy and full, straining against the bodice as I settled on the sofa beside Ames, a vestal smile on my lips.
“Hey. What are you playing?”
"Hey, princess. And nothing that spectacular, just Call of D-d. .. Oh," she stammered when she finally tore her eyes away from the screen.
The wonderful thing about Ames being so pale, was the fact that when she grew flustered -no matter how much she tried to hide it or keep her expression and eyes neutral- I could still see it painted pink across those gorgeous lines and curves that made up her stunning face. In another world, she could have been a model.
As she licked her lips and her eyes flickered over me for a moment to simply admire, like she thought she always did, my eyes trailed down to her gray sweats. There was a split second my conscience kicked in, along with old fears. I told myself I shouldn’t. That Ames wasn't mine to want, let alone touch. That she was my sister’s, and even if she wasn't, I'd never deserved her.
But when I cut the thoughts off at the root and mused with my heart instead of my head, all guilt disappeared. Now, mind you, it wasn't because I didn't give a shit. Contrary to popular belief I really loved my sister. I loved my parents. I loved them more than I knew they could ever love me, because I didn't truly belong to them. At the end of the day, I’d always been the outlier, standing at the edge of the family and peering through a proverbial window, wondering what life must be like to be included. . .
To be loved…
And that was why I slowly reached over to touch her face. Leaning back, eyes as innocent as I felt right then, I simply touched her sweetly, like I used to. The intimacy, my fingertips tracing over Ames' cheek -the sharpness of her jaw while her eyes flickered questioningly to mine- made my breath hitch. The flickering of desire in her eyes warred with confusion and made my stomach clench while my clit fluttered.
And then it hit me.
I didn't feel guilt because Ames was on the outside looking in too. Wanting, no, needing to be loved. To feel loved. To be touched. More than she wanted to fuck, and I knew she wanted to do that. I could feel it in the air, the way all of it seemed to rush in towards us as if the urgency of her need was sucking it all in - tightening it so that neither one of us could breathe.
“You know, I’ve always loved it when you call me princess,” I whispered with the air that wouldn't make it to my lungs, and I didn't care because I wanted to feel the burn in my organs just to know it wasn't in my head. “Even when it made Cress angry, you've just always called me princess. It made me feel so special. So pretty.” My fingertips skimmed featherlight over Ames' lips and my eyes lingered for a moment. When she didn't stop me, I slowly eased over, closing the distance between us. The movement caused my dress to rise just a little higher, exposing my bare inner thigh as I bit my lip. “And now, after all this time, it sounds even better.”
I was so close that I could hear her sharp intake of breath as my fingers continued to trail down her neck, collarbone, her chest, stopping to circle her nipples until they poked through, diamond hard, as if begging for more. But I continued working my way down to her tightening abdomen. My fingers slipped beneath the tank top to feel her hard six pack, evidence that she definitely still kept up in the gym despite no longer playing sports.
I gave her time to stop me, but she didn't, so I continued past the waist of her sweats and teased her there.
“What’s your score so far?” The question was casual, as if I wasn't seducing her or touching her in any way that wasn't innocent. However, the rasp of my voice removed any doubt, as did the trembling of my fingers.
"Sc-- My…" The blonde's breath hitched, and I bit back a smile as she tried to form words, to think, to tell me to stop, even though the last thing she wanted me to do was stop.
She couldn't focus any longer, and I loved it. Just as much as I loved that her breaths were already so ragged, strained, and her emerald hues had that glazed look as if she'd taken something. But it was just that she'd been so touch starved.
I knew because I’d been touch starved too. Hungry for the feel of her against me.
Need is like the strongest craving for a food you can’t access, an itch you can’t scratch, and ours had gone unattended for so long that it was like everything came rushing in at once, and the sensory overload left us both heated and smoldering in it.
Still, I could feel the reluctance rolling off Ames in waves, especially when her hand moved to cover mine.
Ames wanted to push me away because, in her mind, it was the right thing to do. The noble thing. After all, not only was she married, but she was married to my sister. The blonde's reluctance was just as much for my sake as it was for hers. But the need made her care considerably less. Need and maybe even some secret feeling I'd hoped she'd always harbored for me too.
A beautiful, secret flower she'd kept hidden away, never to let it see the sun. while she nurtured it in her mind.
But my poor sister-in- law did her best to answer the question, to focus on the game that she hadn't even gotten to pause. Eventually, she gave up.
“What are you doing, princess?” The thickness of arousal in Ames' voice lessened the confusion in the query. Especially because she knew damn well what I was doing. What I wanted, what we both wanted… But she liked to think she had no control. And truthfully, she didn't.
I did.
But it wasn't about control. It had never been about that for me.
"Cress will be home soon. I should see about ordering in…" she whispered raggedly.
I almost stopped then, but she still didn't move except to shift her weight, unconsciously pressing herself more firmly against my hand, as I moved down, inching closer to where she wanted my hand the most.
“I’m not stopping you. But your game is still going, isn't it?” I whispered breathlessly. “Just keep playing. Get back to your high score, besides Cress won’t be back till late. She never comes in until late on Wednesdays. After hours staff meetings, remember?" A wicked smile formed on my lips. "And even if she were to come home...it wouldn’t be before I had time to-”
Ames' chest rose and fell, breasts tense against the thin cotton of her tank top, and I searched her face, watched her expression and the fluttering of her lashes as my hand continued down into the waistband of her sweats with rapt fascination.
“. . .play my own little game.”
I teased her. Waited until her hips subconsciously sought more, and her hands could barely operate the controller while I felt myself grow even wetter and my clit swelled and throbbed.
“But remind me how to play yours again? I can never really make it past the first checkpoint.” My voice trailed off in a gasp as my slender fingers slipped past Ames' waistband, down into the confines of her sweats. Fuck, she wasn't wearing boxers, and there was nothing preventing me from teasing over her pelvis as it twitched beneath my touch.
I could feel the scalding heat of her granite hard cock before I even felt its thickness. I bit back a moan as I pressed my lips to her bare shoulder and felt the tension building between my legs while I ground against whatever I could for the feeling of friction.
She was so hard that her shaft felt almost obscene and pulsated with every teasing flutter of my fingertips.
“There’s my joystick,” I moaned low. “Remember when you taught me how to play with a joystick, Ames?” My thumb teased over the divot where pre-cum pearled and trickled down the thick girth of her shaft, in sticky rivulets, to the heavy sac beneath, and my lips pressed against his ear. “I don’t know how Cress ever keeps her hands off of you, because just being this close to you. . .” My moan turned to a filthy whine as I gripped her. My forehead resting against her hair as I pumped with slow, long, languid strokes. ". . . .I want is for you to stuff me with this big futa cock. Let you take me, so you could feel how much I love you, how much I’ve always loved you.”
The remaining air grew so thick it was almost like a blanket as I released my sister-in-law's velvet skin to tug her sweatpants down until they rested below her narrow hips and her big meaty cock sprang free. I trailed my tongue down the flat of my hand to wet it, palm wrapping around the stiffness of her erection to slowly pump it again as I watched her face.
“You want to be loved too, don’t you, baby?”
I should have been smug when the controller fell from Ames' hands because all of her control was completely forfeited in favor of pleasure and the need for closeness. So much so that she pressed against me and opened her legs wider while I sucked on her earlobe. The blonde's breaths grew labored and hard, as if she'd run a marathon, and she hardened impossibly more in my hands, pulsing while precum pearled and dripped freely, making it easy for me to gather and lube my strokes with.
"Fuck," she husked. "Jersey, ah…oh, fuck. If this is because of Cress--" she tried to say, her hips thrusting upwards to buck into my gripping hand before her own larger one rested over it once again, this time to guide my strokes.
“This has nothing to do with Cress, although I'll be the first to say she never deserved you. You need to stop thinking. Let me take care of you,” I answered simply. Then my lips met hers, because without realizing it, she'd asked, because she wanted it. And her lips were as soft as I always knew they would be. Soft and slightly wet from where she'd licked them moments before.
I squeezed her shaft more firmly, stroking more quickly as Ames' breaths grew more urgent only to suddenly slow again while the kiss sent delightful warmth traveling all the way to the tips of my extremities. My head swam and my chest ached because my heart was so full it felt as if it might literally pop out of the containment of flesh and bone that housed it and into the world, into Ames' hands.
Even the one that was guiding mine.
My tongue toyed with hers, slithering to delve inside, wrap around the thick muscle, and draw it deeper into my mouth. The more I kissed her, the more I grew desperate to feel the heat of the blonde inside me, stretching me. Desperate to watch Ames unwind with pleasure while her body found it within mine. I wanted her to drown in me, succumb to me, be as passionate and rough as her needs demanded, because I knew afterwards she'd love me gently.
I wanted her to make love to me as much as I wanted her to show me what it meant to truly be used like a whore. I wanted to be her whore.
A whore for her smile, her cock, her cum, and more than anything… her heart.
I was at Ames' mercy; completely and wholly hers, as much as I intended to make her mine.
But I also wanted Ames to show me what she wanted. I wanted her to push me back and spread my legs, and beg me to let her have me. To let her feel me in ways she wouldn’t even allow herself to truly fantasize about unless she needed to jerk herself to orgasm because the intensity of her thoughts of me were too strong to deny.
"Fuck, Jersey," she groaned. The wet slapping sound of skin rubbing wet skin filled the room, drowning out the sounds of the video game. Ames was so swept up in it, eyelids squeezed tightly while her hips began to buck and roll. It was more beautiful to me than any art I'd ever been privileged enough to witness. "You're gonna make me… fuck. Your hand feels so fucking good."
"Yeah? You're gonna cum, beautiful? Cum for me. Right now."
And she did. It was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen. Felt. The way she swelled even thicker and full in my hand until my fingertips weren’t even meeting, her shaft sticky with her pleasure as her cum spurted in thick rivulets of creamy white, she groaned into my mouth, and her body trembled with the intensity of a climax she probably hadn't had in weeks, maybe even months.
It was so damn hot.
My pussy was soaked and needy. Ames' tongue slid into my mouth, her yearning for me on the very taste of it, I knew I didn’t want this to be just once. I'd never want her just once. But her release barely seemed to soften her, despite the mess and her rough breathing, flushed skin, and glazed eyes.
In that moment, I almost hoped that Cress would come home early to see how I was making the spouse she didn’t deserve remember what pleasure was. What it was meant to be.
But she didn't, and she wouldn't. I knew that even as I lowered my head to wrap my lips around Ames' still pulsing thickness. Cress wouldn't come in to see Ames' hands threading through the long tresses of my hair, holding me down as she instinctively thrust upwards to fill my mouth and throat. Breathing was an act I no longer cared about. Her cum spread over my chin, lips messy from her previous release as I sucked her for all I was worth, intent on drawing more pleasure from her.
"Jesus, fucking -" the blonde's words cut off as her head fell back against the couch, and the pull of my mouth created a tight and precise seal which sent her spiraling all over again. She descended into bliss induced madness, while I craved more of the tangy taste of her, the fruition of her inability to resist me. So, my nails grazed over her toned thighs and I relaxed my throat to swallow more until she was almost fully enveloped in rippling heat while I swallowed, and my nose pressed against her pelvis where trimmed pubic hairs tickled my nose.
All it took was three bobs of my head and the messy sounds of me gagging happily on her cock, for her balls to draw tight. She swelled against the swallowing squeeze of my muscles and the desperation to milk her, before finally giving up the rest of it. Her loud groans echoed in the room where only the sound of gunfire from the game erased the silence. The guttural sounds were cut off as my head began to bob again and Ames sounded as though she were wounded or close to sobbing before I released her. I wiped the back of my hand over swollen lips, my expression angelic, as she struggled to come down. Every muscle twitched as I tugged her sweats back up, covering her softening cock where my saliva still glistened.
It took her awhile to remember how to breathe again and I stroked her hair until her trembling stopped. But, I didn't give her a chance to tell me that it wouldn't happen again, or that she didn't know why she'd allowed it to happen in the first place. I wasn't ready for that conversation, and I wanted her to ruminate on what we'd done. How I'd made her feel, and if she'd be able to look Cress in the eye.
I gave her, one more lazy kiss to allow her to taste herself. Just one more, and then I rose, to leave the room. . .
And leave Ames wanting more.