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By Margo Perry
For the last seven years, my sister had been too busy climbing the corporate ladder to reach out and touch much, so her text yesterday came as a complete shock: “Getting married next week at City Hall. You’ve got to get here and stand up for us, Sally & Joe.” Who the hell is Joe? When you’re a stewardess, grabbing a flight isn’t a big thing, even on twenty-four hours notice. I immediately grabbed the first available flight back home. After eleven hours in the air and another by cab, I spent forty-five minutes, lying on Sally’s bed, watching her apply bright red lipstick to her puckered, sensual lips. Her already long lashes became more luscious with every stroke of her mascara, her deep blue eyes more startling as she lined them. I was either mesmerized, or jet-lagged into Zombieland. She was so absorbed that I felt superfluous, as though I’d just dropped in and my visit was both unexpected and untimely. Typical! “I just got here! What are you doing going out?” Why did I always feel like I was begging for something, even answers to my questions, when Sally was involved? “When will I meet your fiancé?” She ignored me, smiling at her image as she wound her long blond braided hair atop her head like a crown. She’d always been too beautiful for envy and I’d always adored her, despite her subtle, but constant bullying. Two tiny rubies dangled from her delicate drop earrings that perfectly matched her strappy stiletto sandals. She rose from her makeup table, like an arrogant ballerina, and smoothed the skirt of her white suit over her narrow hips. She twisted, one way and back again, checking herself thoroughly. Only when she was satisfied did she turn to me. She scanned me critically. “Is my little sister putting on weight?” The attack was all too familiar and it now strained the already fraying bonds of sisterhood. I remembered once asking my mother if she was sure we had the same father. Sally is tall, slender, blue eyed and beautiful, like our Dad. Mom is the willowy brunette version and I struggle against plump, am brown eyed, and barely register on the attractive scale. “Actually, I’ve lost a few pounds,” I lied. I’ve been about the same weight since high school. I don’t work out. I take a dance class a couple of times a week, wherever I am, because I adore it. “You haven’t lost an inch where it matters! Your breasts are bigger than ever. Think about a breast reduction! I’d so help you with that. Tits as humongous as yours are so overkill.” We’d been in the same apartment for less than an hour and I was already feeling like the broken leg of her fabulous sofa. It had always been thus and I was already wondering why I’d come. I needed to escape. “Would you mind if I grabbed a quick shower?” “Not at all! Take your time, but I might be gone by the time you’re done. I’m having dinner with an old friend.” “What about Joe, your fiancé?” “He should be home soon. He was planning on taking us to dinner, before . . . You remember Derek Johnston?” “Football star, the first love of your life?” “Yeah, he’s in town on business.” “Does Joe know about your plans?” “He knows that I’m busy, that I have people I want to see before the wedding.” “What does Joe do, anyway?” “He teaches music at the high school.” This was getting curiouser and curiouser. Derek had been the future husband of choice for years. In his place, I might have expected a banker, a lawyer, or a successful businessman, but a teacher? “How long have you known this man?” “A year and that’s long enough. He’s perfect for me, independent, caring and a great lover. You’ll have to try one someday. Pull yourself together. Get yourself a man. ” She laughed as if she’d suggested the impossible. Typical! I’m used to playing Echo to her Narcissus. She was always our father’s clear favourite and our mother was always too busy vying with her for father’s attention to even notice me. During our childhood, Sally was the princess, while I’d cast a small shadow. I reminded myself that I was not that girl anymore. I loved to travel, loved the folks I met and had plans to write fiction someday. I’d never really been in love and men didn’t flock to me, but I did all right, at least till I found myself under my sister’s powerful sway. “Have fun, then. I’ll see you when you get home.” “Don’t wait up. I’ll probably be quite late. If I miss Joe, tell him that I’ll text him, if I decide to drink and stay over.” “Joe sounds like a very understanding guy.” Or an Echo, like me. “He is. You’ll see.” “I look forward to it.” I didn’t know if I meant that or not, but it was a good exit line. I escaped back to the guest room, grabbed some fresh clothes and headed for the shower. The water pounding my skin felt punishingly good. I used two hands to offer my nipples to the water gods and waited for the familiar tingling to course through my body, exciting me, urging me along the path to orgasm, but the feeling eluded me. My sister had unnerved me. I washed quickly, towelled off and dressed in a pair of jeans and T-shirt. The towel on my head hid an unruly mass of curls that would surely frizz beyond redemption. I was in no shape to go anywhere, or meet anyone and I wished that I was back in Fiji. I felt hungry and went in search of the kitchen. I hoped Sally had left and Joe hadn’t yet arrived. I had no energy left for either insults or chitchat and I didn’t feel comfortable here. My sister, this place was taking me back to a painful childhood, one whose very memory I tried relentlessly to distance myself from. I could feel the confidence I’d worked so hard to build, slipping quickly away and I hated myself for it. I hated Sally for it. When I first arrived, I’d noticed a separate dining room off the living room. It was unseasonably warm for May and the cool wood floors felt good under my bare feet. I started down the hall, but the sound of raised voices stopped me dead in my tracks, long before I reached the door. “I know you don’t want me to drink and drive.” “Don’t be obtuse! What I don’t want is for you to go anywhere at all. I find it monumentally insensitive of you to summon Tracy here and desert her almost the moment she gets here. She’s never met me. Maybe she won’t be comfortable hanging out with me all night.” Sally was talking to a man I assumed was Joe. His voice was deep and warm and I liked that he was considering my feelings. “Tracy understands. She knows I haven’t seen these women since college. We are all busy, so it’s quite the event to get us together. Call it my bachelorette party.” “Then, why not take Tracy with you?” “I offered. She’s exhausted. Let’s not make a big thing out of this.” Liar! “And I suppose drinking is imperative. It wouldn’t be an acceptable compromise to stay sober enough to drive back here and spend some time with your sister tonight?” I quickly retreated back to the guest room. I was dying to see the man with a golden voice who’d dare stand up to Sally, but that could wait. I needed to think. I found myself moving instinctively. This was the first time, in our whole lives, that a man was even considering my needs along with my sister’s. I found myself shedding my jeans and T-shirt and rummaging around for something else wear. I felt exhilarated and suddenly anxious to meet my sister’s fiancé. I heard a door slam in the distance. Sally was on her way and I was left alone with Joe. I run a comb through my hair and then resorted to my fingers to arrange my mop in a way that seemed adventurous at least. I remembered Sally’s assault on my breasts and chose my most cleavage enhancing bra, a flowing cotton skirt that fell to my ankles and, for the first time in my life, ditched my panties. I felt naughty, sexy. The top draped wide on my shoulders with a scoop neck that didn’t quite cover the lacy edge of my bra, but perfectly framed the huge and billowy expanse of my breast flesh. The white cotton was almost diaphanous. I applied an almost natural lipstick that accentuated the sensuality of my plump lips and dabbed just a touch of my favourite scent behind each ear. I checked myself out in the mirror. I looked devilish. I looked ready for fun. I felt like a new person, as I started down the hall again. A giant of a man stood, head bowed, hands clasped behind his back, rocking from one foot to the other. He looked out of the window, his back to me. More musician than teacher, I thought. His salt and pepper hair touched his shoulders and his tight jeans encased a round, tight, enticing ass. He was over six feet tall and in great shape, perfect arm candy for my sister. I could see why Sally had chosen him. But I already sensed something about this man, a gentleness and vulnerability, a deep strength that she might not have appreciated. For a moment, I studied his posture. I saw that resignation had tightened the line of his jaw. He didn’t look like a happy man. “You must be, Joe.” He turned slowly toward me. His eyes met mine and something dangerous passed between us. His eyes locked onto my breasts and my nipples grew long with excitement as he struggled to meet my eyes again. His passion for large breasts was evident in his burning gaze and in the bulge in his crotch that was growing quickly. He knew that I knew what he was feeling and he knew that I liked it. My pussy was throbbing and I could hardly catch my breath. “And, of course, you’re Tracy.” He walked toward me, smiling. We both blushed from the heat of the bubble we found ourselves in. And when his lips brushed my cheek, and my heavy breasts settled against his broad chest, we both trembled and jumped apart as if stung. If Sally were here, I could have told her that I already approved of her Joe, approved more than she could have possibly liked. “I’m sorry about this mix up. We’re both really glad you’re here.” I didn’t like them on one side, with me on the other, even in welcome. It corrupted the sexual connection we’d established, made it seem illegal. “If Sally were really glad I was here, she’d have stayed home tonight.” My voice was flat, matter of fact. We were still standing close together. I reached up and touched his hot cheek, before turning away from him and heading for the couch. “I’m sure you’re very disappointed that Sally isn’t here tonight. I don’t want you to worry about me. I’ll just make a sandwich or something and head for my room. It’s been a long day.” I clasped my hands above my head and sighed deeply. I watched Joe follow the rise of my tits, as they swelled, flirting with the very edge of their containment. I contracted and released my pelvis, both an exercise and an offer of seduction. We didn’t talk. What was happening was so overwhelming, so animal and outrageous that I, for one, had nothing to say. All I wanted was to do. We’d already skipped over the small talk. Joe rushed over to the couch and perched awkwardly on the edge. He was gorgeous. His large hands and course features were beautiful to me and I knew that his touch would be as gentle as his voice. “No! We could go to dinner. Or order out. Or something . . .” His reaction was more than I could have hoped. His eyes were darting all over the room, all over me. He was hunched over, as if protecting himself from his own feelings. He looked submissive. My pussy was wet, my skirt damp. His eyes were pleading. “I vote for something. Sally should have stayed home tonight. If you were mine, I would’ve stayed home.” There! I’d just declared war on my sister. I slipped onto the floor, onto all fours, tits front and center and began to crawl toward him. “No!” He pressed himself back against the couch, terrified. I knew what he wanted. He wanted to be seduced, but he wanted his virtue intact. I was amused by his quandary. I was now between his legs, pressing them apart, exposing his fully engorged hard-on, forcing him to focus on the surge of breast flesh moving toward him. I gazed at his lap, licking my lips like a cat no longer on the prowl, but ready to pounce. I stood slowly and then straddled him, moving my pussy back and forth over his extended muscle, before settling down on him. “We shouldn’t …” Then I kissed him hard into silence, frightening him. I sucked his juicy lower lip into my mouth. My tongue fucked his ear, until he panted. His whole body jerked for more. "Please, please, please." “You want me to stop?” I pretended to get up. “Please don’t go. Don’t stop!” We were dry humping, my head thrown back. Deep moans escaped his slack lips. “I’m going to fuck you right here on this couch and you’re going to love it. Don’t say a word! There’s nothing you can do about it,” I warned. He’d buried his face deep in my cleavage. His hot breath on my flesh further incited me. His warm tears excited me more. I focused on releasing him, belt, zipper, jockeys. He lifted his hips and I slipped everything down and down, until he was bottomless. I wanted him naked. “Take off your top.” His face was red with embarrassment. His cock had lost some of its girth. “Give me your hand.” I lifted my skirt and placed his hand over my naked mound. He slid one finger inside me and began to manipulate my warm folds. He was practiced, he was gentle. He knew a woman’s body. He was driving me toward orgasm and I grabbed his hand and stopped him, just before he took ownership of me. I removed my top and stepped out of my skirt. I was naked except for my bra. It projected and enhanced that which he loved most. I stood in front of him, leaned over him, my menacing tits close to his face, threatening to smother him. “Play with your cock.” His face was a contorted mix of pleasure and pain. I pushed him higher, placing one foot beside him on the couch, so he could see me playing with my pussy. He gasped, as pre-cum oozed out of him. I laughed. I’d never been hornier or happier. “If I fuck you now, you’ll belong to me. There will be nothing you or Sally can do to change it.” I deserted him, stretching out on the couch, legs open, my breasts rising and falling in exaggerated waves. I played with myself, twisting my nipple through the cotton of my bra. I could hear Joe breathing hard, irregularly. “If you don’t want me, I can take care of myself,” I said, freeing one breast, tenderly with two hands. I fed myself, moaned over the pleasure I was giving myself. The rest was a blur. I heard a groan, felt gentle paws working their way up my thighs. Both hands reached my pleasure aching breasts, as his loose lips and strong tongue sent pleasure through my pussy to every cell of my body, to the ends of every hair in my head. He fucked me so good, it made us both cry. And then he turned me over without asking, took me from behind and played with my clit until I came. He took off my bra, folding it before placing it reverently on the floor. He kissed and caressed my flesh, discovering pleasure haunts I never knew existed, until I came again. We kissed a lot after that. I learned every detail of his cock’s demands and I tortured him with pleasure. We were starving. We ordered pizza, just before Sally called me, not Joe. She was on her way home. Derek’s wife was in town, so I’m guessing he had to fuck and run. I was disappointed, but Joe was devastated. He was caught between sisters, equal but opposite forces, and all he knew was panic. Sally made it home before the pizza. As soon as I heard her car in the driveway, I trapped Joe at the window, rubbing his cock through his jeans, until he leaked and trembled. He sighed with relief when I smacked his bottom and wandered away in the direction of the guest room. Let the games begin.
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