Sarah and Her Fiancé's Sister 2

SARAH

Zoey drops the dress and draws even closer to me until there is only a silver of space between us. She hooks her fingers into the back strap of my bra and tugs slightly then frees it so that it slaps against my skin, eliciting a hiss from my lips.

“Do you need help with this?” Her whisper drifts into my ear, dark and elusive like smoke.  

The room is charged with sexual tension so thick, I’m pretty sure a scissors wouldn’t be able to cut through it. It’s painfully obvious we’ve both dropped the pretentious act and now, the desire we’ve struggled to bury for so long has come to the surface, rearing it’s tempting head.

Can I fight this?

Do I even stand a chance against this all consuming want?

When I exhale, any lingering reluctance evacuates with that breath and my shoulders sag, my body tipping backwards slightly into hers. “Yeah,” I whisper right back.

Her breath gusts against my nape as she unhooks my bra, her fingers brushing along my skin as she slides the straps from my hands, letting it fall to floor. Her eyes burn as she stares at my breasts through the mirror.

She’s tall enough to see straight down the front of my body if she wants to but there’s something unbearably erotic about the image we make in the mirror. My petite naked frame next to her bigger, wider and fully dressed one.

It also highlights our power differences.

Zoey gathers my hair and places it over one shoulder then presses her lips to my pulse point. “You’re so beautiful, Sarah.”

My breathing grows laboured. I shouldn’t want her. I can’t stop thinking of Carl and the fact that I’m cheating on him with his sister just by being with her like this. He’s going to be so heartbroken if he finds out.

How am I going to live with myself knowing that I cheated on him?

“This is so wrong.” The words come out broken as she trails kisses along the column of my neck, my knees growing weak.

Her hands circle me and she grabs my breasts, fondling them. They’re nowhere as big as hers but they’re big enough. When she pinches my nipples between her thumb and forefinger, my neck loses power and my head falls back into the crook of her neck.

“You’re not married to him yet,” she says in between kisses.

“But we’re engaged,” I protest weakly even as I turn my neck for more of those kisses, arching my back and pushing my tits into her big hands.

Something hard prods me in my lower back but I shrug it off. Must be her belt buckle. She’s wearing jeans after all.

Bending, Zoey scoops me into her arms like I weigh nothing and it takes me aback. “Jeez. You’re really strong.”

She obviously loves that compliment. I see the way her eyes light up upon hearing it, dirty intentions swimming in those brown depths as she lowers me onto the bench we’d been sitting on. She lays me flat on my back then pushes my knees apart and kneels between them.

My breath falters in my chest, my core growing slick with need when I realize just exactly what she plans on doing.

“Zoey, if Carl found out about this--”

“He won’t find out,” She cuts me off, dragging the flat of her palm down my quivering stomach to my panties, where I expect her to take them off but she just tugs the crotch to the side, and I inhale sharply when the cold air hits my pussy. “This will be our little secret, right?”

I nod, helpless to my body’s craving for this forbidden lust.

Zoey’s eyes drop to the flesh between my legs  and my teeth digs into my lower lip when she groans. “Look how wet you are,” she murmurs, thrusting a finger inside me. “Fuck.”

A moan falls from my lips at the invasion. My body sucks her finger in, my eyes losing focus when she adds another finger, thrusting them deep.

“Everything all right in there?” The sales attendant’s voice penetrates the haze of lust blanketing me and I jerk up on the bench, worried she’ll come in and catch us, but Zoey stops me with a firm hand on my stomach.

“What are you doing?” I whisper harshly, the words coming out disjointed because she doesn’t stop thrusting her fingers. “She’s going to walk in.”

“Calm down,” she says to me before shouting, “We’re doing okay. Still trying out the dresses. We’ll let you know when we’re done.”

The sales attendant responds with an ‘okay’ before she goes quiet once more.

She’s been standing right there this entire time. She could have heard us and then I’d be in huge fucking trouble. But Zoey doesn’t seem to care. Maybe because she’s not the one at risk of her reputation being ruined.

“She can hear us.”

Zoey’s eyes are laser focused on my pussy. “Then I guess we’ll just have to be quiet.”

I’m about to protest again when she lowers her head and presses a kiss to my engorged clit. My mouth falls open on a soundless scream as a shot of pleasure fires through my nerve endings.

I fall back on the bench as Zoey tugs my hips to the edge, spreading my thighs wider and hooking my legs over her shoulders. She sucks on my clit with just the right intensity, before sliding her tongue inside me, lapping at my juices.

Her tongue is divine and I’ve genuinely never had a man eat me out the way she’s doing. But then she’s a woman and she knows how we love to be eaten so I guess that’s what makes her so good at it.

She stiffens her tongue and fucks me with it, giving equal attention to my clit as well. It’s a struggle trying to bite down my moans and when I feel my orgasm building, I have to bite onto my forearm so I don’t scream and give us away.

My eyes cross when she sucks my folds into her mouth and I hit my peak, a powerful orgasm tearing through my body. I scream into my hand, my legs shaking with the force of it. Zoey makes low noises of satisfaction as she licks me clean like she’s never tasted something so good.

Only then does she press a kiss to the inside of my thigh and lift her head.

Her eyes are fully dilated and she looks hungry as fuck. I wonder how I can pleasure her. I’ve never gone down on a woman and I don’t know if I’ll be any good at it but I’m willing to try.

Pushing up to a sitting position, I shove my hair behind me. “Let me--” I look down and freeze. I blink. “Is that--”

There’s a huge bulge at the crotch of her jean, something thick, long and hard curving to her left leg. That must be what I felt earlier. It looks exactly like a cock but that can’t be.

My eyes jump to hers again. “That can’t possibly be real, right?”

Without uttering a word, Zoey takes my hand and presses it to the bulge, which pulses the moment my fingers make contact with it.

My lips part as I--despite my fear and confusion--feel it up out of curiosity. Zoey moans, her eyes losing focus when I lightly squeeze.

My fiance’s sister has a penis. And it’s freaking huge.