Sisters, by Any Other Names

"That was a good one," she said, mostly to herself. That made my pride swell in my chest.

I tossed a pillow onto the floor next to the bed. She nodded and made her way down. I rearranged a few more up top and got myself into a seated position. It put an extra bit of pressure on the toy in my ass, which was always good.

Sam knelt on the pillow and settled in between my spread legs. She reached out with both hands and began caressing my cock and balls.

"God, I love your cock," she whispered.

"It loves you," I replied. That made her smile.

She scooched forward and leaned in. She moved my swelling cock around so that it lightly stroked her cheeks and lips. She breathed deeply through her nose and her parted lips, and her eyelids got heavy as she took in my scent. If it was all an act, I didn't care. It was incredibly hot. My pixie was a sex goddess.

She kissed the tip lovingly; it wasn't exploratory, or a stall. Her hands kept working in tandem with her mouth so that my balls were never neglected. After a minute or so, I reached out and petted her. Instead of tensing up or pulling away like so many women would, she looked up at me with love, trust, and the fog of submissive lust in her eyes.

That special eye contact did to me exactly what it does to most men. It made me want to gather up my little girl into my arms and protect her from the whole world... and also do anything it took -- even violent, filthy, degrading things -- to get my cum into her belly.

I resisted the latter urge for the moment. "You're such a good girl, Sam," I whispered, petting her mousy brown hair.

"I want to be a good girl for you," she replied, still kissing, licking, and stroking me. "I want to please you."

I nodded; she moved forward and engulfed my cock before it was fully hard. She took it about halfway, then looked up at me again. She held my gaze with her deep, submissive brown eyes and nursed on me. Those two contradictory urges both rose up in tandem. I reached out and grasped her hair with my other hand. I saw her in eyes that she was willing to let me fuck her mouth and throat; she'd already accepted that fate. I released her head and moved my hands back to the bed. She nodded with my cock still in her mouth and started up a slow, expert blowjob.

Even though I'd managed to restrain my most violent urges, my hips started moving only a minute or so into the real action. I'd teased myself a lot while I'd eaten her, and Sam's attention had made me start flexing my rear muscles instinctively, rather than on purpose. Sam withdrew once to give my balls the tiny licks she knew I liked, but then it was back to sucking while she massaged the underside of my shaft and head with her tongue.

"Okay," I breathed out. That didn't mean I was about to cum; it meant I needed to, and that it was time to move to the final stage.

She cradled my sack in one hand and lifted it up; it wouldn't be long before it contracted on its own, but the support and gentle stimulation felt amazing. She leaned back until only about half an inch of my cock was in her mouth, and massaged the remainder of my spit-soaked shaft with her other hand. Her tongue started flicking over and over just where skin joined it to the head, driving me crazy in a way that was only partly sexual. It was overload, even before orgasm. I started bucking my hips, not even knowing whether I wanted the sensation to stop or intensify.

"I'm sorry, baby," I whispered between ragged breaths. She looked up one last time, and silently told me it was okay.

I couldn't cum from just a blowjob; I'd never been able to, even when I'd been a hair-trigger virgin.

My hands went to her head. She moved closer, knelt taller, and hunched her shoulders. She released my cock and balls and put her hands behind her back. That visual sent a jolt through me, and it obliterated the last of my self-control. I shoved Sam's head down onto my cock, pushing her lips all the way down to my root. I felt her huff out hot, wet air through her nose onto my pelvis. I also felt the muscles in my jaw clench. I was torn between wanting to keep Sam's head exactly where it was, and wanting to genuinely skull fuck her.

When I sensed she was struggling for air, I pulled her up. Enough of my cock left her mouth so that she could suck in air through the sides and her nose. I gave her three seconds, gripped her hair harder, and then turned her into my cocksleeve.

I was too far gone to know what was going on with Sam. I was fucking madly, chasing my orgasm, treating her mouth and throat like a cunt, and instinctively regarding her stomach as a womb that needed to be bred. I had no sense of whether she was in her sub space, genuinely struggling, or both. Fortunately for her, my prostate was full to leaking and still being teased by the head of the toy inside my ass. I only brutalized her for another minute -- maybe even less -- before slamming her down to my root again and blasting into her throat with everything I had.

In defiance of what I'd just put her through, Sam brought one of her hands to my ballsack and started tickling it mercilessly. The other one went up past my cock, and her thumb dug into me just below my bladder, putting my prostate in between a rock and hard place. I felt the jolts inside of me; they almost hurt, but I never wanted them to stop. I wanted her to squeeze every last drop out of me.

She didn't stop sucking; to that, she added swallowing, even though I was sure it wasn't necessary to coax my cum down into her belly. After hunching over and straining to prolong my orgasm, I finally gave up. I released her hair and fell backwards into the bed. She slid her mouth off my deflating cock, still sucking and licking it, knowing I'd relish the agony and be powerless to dissuade her regardless. She cleaned up my tip and then lowered herself down to lap at my sack. I lost track of time; she could've been down there for an hour. I just didn't know.

I started trying to move my body. There were a few false starts, but I managed to roll over. Sam grasped the massager and slowly withdrew it. I felt a tissue dab between my crack. She patted my butt to let me know she was all done, and I slowly, agonizingly climbed back onto the bed. I rolled over again, settling in on my back.

Sam climbed up and found my eyes. She opened her mouth wide, showing me she'd swallowed everything. It was theater, but I loved it. I reached up with a leaden arm and stroked her cheek.

"Good girl," I said. "You were such a good girl for me."

I saw that her face was puffy and streaked with tears. She didn't look sad or upset, but the rush of guilt hit me anyway.

"I love you, Will," she said.

That made me feel worse, not better, but I knew it would pass. "I love you too, Sam," I replied.

"Be right back."

She scampered across the bed and then into the bathroom. I heard the toilet flush and the faucet run. When she came back to bed, she tapped my chest lightly with a finger.

"Come on," she said. "You know you'll just have to get up and go in a few hours if you don't do it now. Might as well take care of it and brush too."

I groaned in protest, but started rolling off the bed. She was right. I looped around, hit the bathroom, and, very reluctantly, brushed, flossed, and gargled while taking care of the main business.

I retrieved my pajamas from the floor near the bed and slipped them back on.

"Aw," Sam said. She wasn't serious. It was more flattery, and it felt good.

We both grinned, and I crawled back into bed. Sam was already propped up, ready for my mouth to latch onto her breast. I did so in a smooth, practiced motion, and enjoyed our final nightly ritual for a good, long while. Sam waited to put her panties back on until I was done; she needed to dab herself one last time with a tissue before that, because, miracle of miracles, she loved getting her breasts sucked almost as much as I loved sucking on them.

I rolled over fully onto my side, becoming the big spoon for my petite pixie. She was so short that she could snuggle up into me with my head fully over hers, letting me avoid the cliched face full of hair. She had her own pillow down there and everything. She was like my oversized stuffed animal -- no fur, but with her own source of heat. After almost two years with her, and six months of sharing that same bed almost every single night, I could hardly imagine falling asleep any other way.

"I love you, Sam," I whispered one more time.

"I love you too, Will," she whispered back.

*****************

We didn't sleep like the sated, innocent, or dead, but we got a good eight hours in. As soon as we woke up, we could both feel the nervous energy. It was Sunday, and Maxine was due to arrive in three or four hours.

That energy, radiating off both of us, threatened a feedback loop, so we brilliantly disrupted it with a cuddle-fuck. It wasn't lovemaking, kinky, or violent. It was pedestrian, in the best way. It was two adults having a casual, grunting conversation on a subject of mutual interest. If Sam had started talking about the grocery list for the upcoming week, I don't think it would've ruined the vibe at all, or slowed me down. If anything, it might've made it hotter.

Sam's panties and my bottoms were both around our knees. I fucked her; she frigged herself. I nibbled and gnawed on her from behind, and pressed her into me with my palms on her tits. Her nipples got hard and long and tickled me there. When I was close, I got one arm fully across her chest and the other around her hips.

"Fuck yeah," she grunted. "Make me your fucking fleshlight. Use me to jerk off."

That did it for me. The session hadn't started off kinky or violent, but it ended with hints of both. I fucked into her harder and faster, and buried my cock as deep as it would go as I blasted off. Even though the position of my right arm made her job harder, she whisked her clit like a pissed-off baker, and I felt her cum while I was still straining to push one last drop into her.

"You're a seriously kinky bitch," I whispered into her ear, "you know that?"

"I'm your seriously kinky bitch," she said. "Don't forget it."

"Never stop reminding me."

"Deal."

"God, I love you." I kissed her hard on the cheek. She reached back awkwardly and tapped me, letting me know it was time to uncouple and get up. I groaned in protest.

"You know I'd fuck you all day," she said, "but today's the day."

"No second thoughts?" I asked.

"That's my line," she replied. "And I'm not even sure 'second thoughts' is the right term."

"I'm never going to love her the way I love you," I said. "I'm never going to want her this much. Is that okay?"

"It is," she replied. I wasn't sure I believed her. "I love her, but sibling rivalry is still a thing. The idea that I'm a little bit higher up on the pecking order doesn't exactly sound terrible."

"Well, when you put it that way, maybe I do believe you."

"So?" she asked expectantly.

I sighed and kiss the nape of her neck. "You're in charge today, Sam," I said. "Shoot your shot."

I felt the excitement surge through her. For all my reservations, it felt good that I'd made it happen. That's a deep instinct for a lot of guys, I think. It's one of those "selflessness is always selfish" things. Making your woman happy means more and better sex. That's the lizard brain's working theory, anyway.

There wasn't any shower sex, but I didn't necessarily miss it. Sam's second surge of energy wasn't nervous like her first; mine was, and it was distracting. Sam went into full schemer mode during breakfast, laying out exactly how she thought everything would go.

"So, you've got a plan," I said, "but it depends almost completely on Maxine accepting the edibles and the mimosas, and then basically not putting up a fight at all?"

"The plan is to push it as far as I think we can today," she replied with a shrug, "and to back off at signs of trouble. This still isn't 'shoot your shot' day, Will. It's the beginning of phase four, not the end of it."

"Okay," I sighed. I was suddenly doing that a lot more often.

It was weird to be dressed in pajamas when company was coming over. Mine at least covered most of my body. Sam was in loose, casual shorts -- very short ones -- a flimsy babydoll that left no nipples to the imagination, and high socks. It was a very sexy look -- too sexy, in my opinion, but she convinced me that Maxine wouldn't be nearly as threatened by her little sister in skimpy clothes. It made a weird kind of sense, which, I supposed, was the only kind of sense anything was going to make.

The lavender candles were actually pretty nice. We had one going in the living room, one in the bedroom, and one in each bathroom. I'd put together a few different playlists of "spa music," for lack of a better term, and had the laptop hooked into the secondary speakers. Sam had picked out a range of TV and movies; the range was from "a little naughty" to "this is basically porn."

We made a giant salad to go with lunch, assembled a vegetable-and-dip platter for the living room, had water with lemon ready if Maxine didn't go for the mimosas, and generally walked the tightrope between being good hosts and being total perverts looking to seduce our prey. I felt very skeevy -- like those couples from the seventies who'd host key parties.

The doorbell rang at just before eleven, and Sam's eyes told me to go answer it.

Maxine looked like her usual self: full makeup, hoop earrings, dyed hair down in tresses, and entirely overdressed. She wore a smart blouse with a short, fur-lined denim jacket over it; a long, denim skirt with leggings underneath; and open-toed heels, showing off her perfect pedicure and glossy toenails. She didn't paint any of her nails with colored polish. According to her, it was too "unnatural." If that doesn't make sense to you, welcome to the club.

"Oh! Hey, Will," she said. She looked surprised; I figured it was the pajamas.

"Were you expecting someone else?"

"Uh... no. No! Sorry. I guess I didn't really know what to expect, but of course I, uh..."

I waved my arm. "Come on in, Maxine."

"Right! Sorry."

Maxine tepidly crossed the threshold, then took another few steps inside. Remembering all of General Sam's grand plans and strategems, I moved in before she could react, embraced her, and kissed her on the forehead.

It's a weak spot. She'll be weirded out, yeah, but she's going to be weirded out anyway.

"I'm really glad you came," I said warmly. "Sam really misses you. It's great you can make time for her."

Never make it about you and her. Make it about her and me.

"Here, let me take your coat. You can put your purse down anywhere, really, as long as nobody trips on it."

Maxine was already off balance. I couldn't believe how much the forehead kiss had thrown her. She looked stunned again, much like the last time I'd done it. She also didn't seem 'with it' enough to properly return my hug.

Shaking her head a little, she said, "Yeah, right, okay," set her purse down, and tugged off the jacket. It seemed stiff and unwieldy. She handed it off to me, and I went to go put it in the front closet.

"Is that Maxine?" Sam called out from the kitchen, just like a sitcom wife playing perfect hostess. She emerged holding two mimosas and walked quickly towards the front door. "Hey there, girl! Welcome to the party!"

"Hey, Sam," Maxine said. "I -- is that for me? Wait, is that a mimosa? Wait, what do you mean 'party?' You didn't say anything about a party."

I shook my head, grateful I had a job to do that didn't involve talking. Once Maxine's coat was in the closet, I stepped back and away, trying to disappear from her field of view.

"It's just a figure of speech, sis," Sam said. "It's just the three of us today -- but we did want to do something special for you, so, yes, this mimosa is for you!"

Maxine took the drink hesitantly, still off balance, but somewhat intrigued.

"Today is all about R and R," Sam continued. "We're going to show you how the other half lives today -- the boring, homebody half -- but it's still special because you're here. Think of it as... a special kind of spa. It's about getting out of your own head. Zen and the art of vegging. Simple pleasures. Family. Cheers!"

Sam clinked her glass against Maxine's, and took her first sip. She looked at Maxine expectantly. Maxine glanced around and took a whiff.

"Is that lavender?" she asked. "That's very nice."

Sam smiled. "I hoped you'd like it. Here at the Washburn Homebody Spa, we do our best to tailor the experience to our preferred clients."

"Hmmm," Maxine said. "It certainly seems that way. And... wow, you even have music. What is that? It's quite good. Too many so-called 'new age' tracks emphasize harsh instruments just because they think they're ethnically appropriate."

Sam pointed over to me. "Will is our musical coordinator. Believe it or not, he developed some strong opinions recently on that very subject -- and that was one of them."

Maxine looked over to me. "Really! Will, I had no idea. Well, bravo, I say!"

"Hey," I said, "any sister of Sam's." I gave her a little bow.

"Aw," she said, looking back at Sam. "He's so sweet." She took a sip of her mimosa; the action seemed unconscious. Her face confirmed it; she looked surprised once it entered her mouth.

"Mmmm!" she said. "Very nice. Was Will in charge of getting the wine, too?"

"That was all Sam," I said. "We make a good team."

"And today, we're your team," Sam added. "And speaking of sweet... we also got some high-end chocolates at a very special shop, and we've love for you to try one -- set the tone for the rest of the day."

Maxine raised an eyebrow. She wasn't stupid. "You didn't," she said.

Sam nodded, grinned, and took another sip of her mimosa. "Come on, Maxine," she said. "You're all about shifting perspectives and expanding your mind. Besides, you won't be taking any trips by yourself. Me and you, big sis. Whaddya say?"

"What about William?" she asked.

I took a step forward, trying my best to look both confident and nonthreatening.

"Will has very graciously volunteered to be our on-staff contact today," Sam said. "If either of us needs anything on our journey towards inner peace and enlightenment, he'll be here to provide it, totally sober. If you need drinks, snacks, a massage, change the music, change the candles, even change the channel, he's got it covered. If you feel like you need to go home, he can drive you. He can even tuck you in and put you to bed -- here or there."

Maxine took another sip. She seemed genuinely torn. "Sam," she began, "I can't tell you how touched I am that you did all this for me. In fact, I'm not sure anyone..."

"Hey," Sam said, moving in to stroke Maxine's arm. "We're sisters. We love each other. I love you, Maxine. I want to do this for you. I want to have this experience with you. You're in a safe place, with people who care about you, and all we want is for you to have a wonderful, lazy, boring, very-special Sunday with us."

Maxine still looked on the verge of tearing up. She looked from Sam to me and back again.

"Organic, all-natural, no preservatives," Sam said. "Not as sweet as your usual treat, but rich and smooth as anything."

"And Will's going to be here with us, right?" Maxine asked nervously. "He'll be here the whole time?"

"Well the law does say I have to give him bathroom breaks," Sam joked, "but then again, it doesn't say you can't join him."

Maxine scoffed. "Oh Sam, you and that dirty mouth of yours. You know what? Let's do it. Let's throw caution to the wind and have some lazy American fun today."

She took a big swig of her mimosa, swallowed it, then shook herself a little bit from head to toe. "So, where is this devil's morsel?"