Chapter 1: Second Place Again
The sun beat down hard on the Carter family pool, bleaching the white stone deck and glinting off still, steaming water. It was the first day of summer break, and Sadie stepped out of her dad’s old pickup in cutoff jean shorts and a tank top that clung to the sweat between her soft breasts. Her graduation cap still sat in the back seat, forgotten. She shut the door harder than she meant to.
Her steps slowed as she saw her step-sister stretched out like a goddess on a lounge chair by the pool.
Harper.
Of course Harper was already home. Of course Harper had the best seat, the skimpiest bikini, the perfect tan and a drink in hand before Sadie had even walked through the door.
Sadie stood there, her wavy strawberry blonde hair clinging to her shoulders, thick thighs pressing together with every slow, reluctant step forward. She watched Harper sip through a straw, one perfectly manicured finger twirling her long, brown hair. Her bikini top was two triangles barely clinging to her tits. Shiny oil glistened across her stomach. Her long legs were parted slightly, just enough to flaunt the gold of her bikini bottoms — a thread more than fabric.
“Hey, little grad,” Harper said lazily, not even turning her head. Her voice dripped with amusement. “Welcome home.”
Sadie clenched her jaw. “Didn’t know you were already here.”
“Didn’t know you still wore those shorts.” Harper finally turned her head, smiling under her oversized sunglasses. “Cute.”
Sadie flushed. She hadn’t worn these to be seen — they were just easy. Comfy. Still, she yanked the hem of her tank top down as if that might help. “I wasn’t dressing for you.”
“Mmm. Pity.”
That smirk made Sadie’s stomach twist — not with anger. Something worse. Something hotter. She hated how Harper always looked like a walking Instagram filter: confident, sun-kissed, effortless. And Sadie hated how she noticed. Noticed the curve of Harper’s hips. The way her legs spread when she was lounging. The smooth dip between her tits. The way her nipples pushed through that flimsy top like they wanted to be seen.
Sadie’s eyes darted away too late. Harper caught the glance.
“You’re staring,” Harper said flatly.
Sadie crossed her arms. “No, I wasn’t.”
“You sure?” Harper sat up, slow and fluid, her hair falling in damp waves across her shoulders. She pulled her sunglasses off. Her eyes — ice blue and sharp — met Sadie’s and held them. “’Cause if you were, I’d be flattered.”
“I wasn’t.” Sadie turned away, heart pounding, face burning.
“Suit yourself. But don’t get all weird when you catch me sunbathing topless tomorrow.”
Sadie didn’t respond. She walked toward the house, trying to ignore the slick heat building between her thighs, the sting of Harper’s smirk clinging to her skin like sweat.
She told herself it was just the heat.
But that night, when she lay alone in her old room, she could still smell the coconut oil. Still hear Harper’s voice teasing her. Still picture that lazy sprawl of bare skin under the sun.
And from the other side of the wall — just faintly — she heard it.
The creak of Harper’s bed. A soft moan. Then another. Muffled, high-pitched, broken up by a dirty little gasp.
Sadie’s breath caught.
She turned on her side. Her hand slipped under the sheet, hovered below her shorts.
She shouldn’t.
She did.
The walls in the Carter house were old. Thin. Every creak, every step on the hardwood, every faucet turning or drawer closing echoed just enough to be noticed.
And so did Harper’s moans.
Sadie lay frozen in bed, eyes wide in the dark, her thick comforter pulled up to her chin like a shield against what she knew she shouldn’t hear — but couldn’t stop listening to.
At first, it had been soft. A gentle squeak of mattress springs. A rustle of sheets. Then a sharp breath. A whimper.
Harper.
There was no mistaking that voice — husky and sultry even when broken by pleasure. Sadie’s thighs pressed together automatically beneath her covers. Her long brown hair clung to her temple with sweat, her cheeks flushed hot in the darkness.
Then the next sound hit her like a slap.
“Ahhh—fuck…”
A whisper, but not soft. Wet. Messy. Real.
Sadie swallowed hard.
She imagined Harper in her room — gorgeous long dark hair spilling over her shoulders, legs spread wide, fingers working deep between her perfect thighs. Probably one hand on her own tit, the other lost in her slick folds. Probably biting her lip, body arched like those girls in porn, but more real. Because it was Harper. Her step-sister.
She shouldn’t be thinking about it.
She couldn’t stop.
Sadie’s hand crept down, fingers slipping beneath the waistband of her sleep shorts. Her pussy was soaked. She hissed through her teeth as her fingertip grazed her clit, already swollen from listening too long.
“Mmhh… deeper…”
The words came again. Through the wall. Harper wasn’t holding back anymore.
Sadie’s eyes fluttered closed. Her thighs spread wider beneath the blanket. She slid two fingers over her pussy lips, gathering slick, letting it coat her skin as her breathing grew heavier. Slow circles. Small ones. Like she used to do when she was just figuring out how to make herself feel good.
But this time, she pictured Harper.
Not just Harper’s moans — but her eyes watching her. Her tongue wetting her lips. Her voice saying, “You’re so wet, baby…” while her fingers slid inside.
Sadie gasped. Her back arched off the bed.
And just as her orgasm built behind her belly, like a hot fist gripping her insides—
Harper’s voice called out in a muffled cry:
“Oh fuck, yes—”
Sadie came.
Hard.
Her legs clamped around her own hand, her hips twitching, mouth open but no sound coming. Just raw, breathless release. Heat exploded through her pelvis, soaking her fingers.
She lay there afterward, dazed. The room felt hotter. Her body sticky with sweat. Her pussy still twitching.
She pulled her hand from her shorts and stared at it.
Wet. Slippery. Shining in the moonlight.
Sadie’s heart thudded in her chest. She couldn’t tell if it was guilt… or need… pounding louder.
She rolled onto her side, closing her eyes. But the image wouldn’t go away.
Harper, naked and moaning through the wall.
And Sadie — wanting her.
Sunlight filtered through the blinds in thin, golden slats, striping the carpet and painting a soft glow across Sadie’s legs where they peeked from beneath the blanket. Her eyes opened slowly. Her thighs were sticky. Her fingers — still slightly slick — curled into the sheets, evidence of the night before clinging to her skin like shame.
Or something worse.
She hadn’t dreamed it.
She’d touched herself to the sound of her step-sister moaning through the wall. Harper had gotten herself off — loud, messy, vocal — and Sadie had come right behind her like she couldn’t help it. And maybe she couldn’t.
Sadie sat up slowly, her wavy blonde hair falling over one shoulder, the thin straps of her sleep shirt slipping down her arms. She wore no bra. Her nipples were stiff, puckered against the fabric. She grabbed a hoodie off the back of her chair and pulled it on, ignoring the way her body still pulsed.
Downstairs, the scent of coffee hit her nose like a trap.
She padded barefoot toward the kitchen, trying to act casual — like she hadn’t spent the night fingering herself to the sound of her sister’s orgasm. Like she wasn’t about to see the same girl in nothing but a T-shirt again.
Harper stood at the counter pouring coffee, her reddish blonde waves spilling down her back in a messy knot. She was barefoot too, her long legs bare from the mid-thigh down. The shirt she wore — if it could be called that — was one of Dad’s old band tees, so oversized it fell off one shoulder… but barely covered her ass.
It was thin. Soft. And underneath?
Nothing.
No bra. No panties. Just Harper — tall, golden, confident — moving slowly, nipples obvious through the faded cotton. She turned at the sound of Sadie’s footsteps.
“Mornin’, sunshine,” Harper purred, raising a mug. “Sleep okay?”
Sadie swallowed hard. Her cheeks burned. “Yeah. Fine.”
“You looked restless. I think I heard you.” Harper took a sip. Her eyes sparkled over the rim of her mug. “Tossing and turning. Lots of noise.”
Sadie blinked. “You—heard me?”
Harper smiled, slow and wicked. “Maybe.”
Sadie couldn’t move.
Harper walked toward her, barefoot steps soft on the tile, mug still in hand. She stopped just close enough for Sadie to smell the coconut shampoo in her hair. Her bare thigh brushed Sadie’s leg as she passed. She leaned down near Sadie’s ear and whispered:
“I like it when you make noise.”
Then she was gone — disappearing around the corner, hips swaying under that thin old shirt, every inch of her an unspoken dare.
Sadie stood frozen in the kitchen, heart hammering, thighs clenching, mouth dry.
She hadn’t just been heard.
She’d been watched.
Chapter 2: Bikini Comparison
Sadie stood in front of her bedroom mirror, tugging nervously at the hem of her old floral bikini. It didn’t fit right anymore. The straps dug into her hips, the cups barely contained her tits — soft and full and just a little too heavy for the cheap Target top she’d outgrown last summer.
She hated how Harper’s voice echoed in her head:
“Cute. You should show more skin.”
Her step-sister always had something to say — always lounging in something sheer or slutty, confident like she’d invented summer itself. Harper flaunted her body like it was a weapon. Sadie, on the other hand, hid hers like it was a curse.
She turned sideways, adjusting the waistband where it cut into her plush thighs. Her reddish-blonde hair fell in waves down her back, sticking slightly to her neck from the humidity. Her skin was soft, untouched by sun yet this season. Her breasts jiggled with even the smallest movement.
And she knew Harper would notice.
As if summoned by thought, Harper knocked once and entered without waiting for permission — a habit that made Sadie grit her teeth. Harper wore a red string bikini that looked painted onto her body, her toned stomach glistening, her perfect tits high and proud beneath barely-there triangles.
She cocked her head. “That’s what you’re wearing to the pool?”
Sadie stiffened. “What’s wrong with it?”
“It’s… sweet.” Harper’s eyes scanned her body from head to toe, lingering at the curves of her ass, the soft crease where her thighs touched. “But if I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to cover that juicy little body on purpose.”
Sadie flushed. “It’s fine.”
Harper shrugged and walked over to her bed, digging into a duffel bag she’d tossed there. “Let’s upgrade you.” She pulled out three bikinis — all smaller, tighter, sluttier.
Sadie blinked. “I’m not wearing that.”
Harper held up a blue one-piece that looked like it had been shredded on purpose. “This one laces up the sides. Shows off the hips. Your thighs will look insane.”
Sadie shook her head. “They’re too much.”
“Exactly. That’s the point, baby.” Harper stood, holding the bikini up to Sadie’s body like a tailor. “You’ve got curves. Use them.”
“I’m not like you.”
Harper smiled, close now — too close. “You will be.”
Sadie backed away half a step, her pulse ticking at her throat. Harper just watched her — head tilted, eyes hungry in that way that made Sadie’s stomach twist with something far more confusing than anger.
And when Harper turned around to dig for something else, her ass — round, golden, perfectly shaped — jiggled under the strings of her bikini. Sadie looked.
Too long.
Harper glanced over her shoulder.
“You sure you’re not curious, Sadie?”
Sadie’s breath caught. “Curious about what?”
Harper laughed, low and dirty. “Never mind.”
But her smile said otherwise.
And Sadie’s heart wouldn’t slow down.
Sadie stared at the bikini Harper was holding.
Tiny. Strappy. Barely more than strings and shimmer. It looked like it belonged on a model’s Instagram — not on her thick thighs and soft belly. But Harper held it up like it was a crown and Sadie was a queen, even if her smirk still had bite.
“Put it on,” Harper said.
Sadie hesitated. “You can’t just boss me around.”
Harper stepped closer, lifting her brows, her voice low and amused. “Why not? You listen when it matters.”
Sadie’s breath caught.
She didn’t understand what Harper meant… or maybe she did, and that was the problem. Her skin flushed hot, her fingers trembling slightly as she reached for the suit. She turned to walk to the bathroom.
“Right here.”
Sadie paused. “What?”
“Change here.” Harper tossed herself back on the bed like it was nothing. “You’ve got nothing I haven’t seen.”
That wasn’t true. Not like this. Not with the way Harper watched her now — sharp, focused, lips slightly parted. Sadie’s mouth went dry.
Slowly, she peeled off her top.
Harper’s eyes dropped to her breasts. No bra. Just soft, round curves and brown nipples pebbled from the air conditioning. Sadie’s arms moved to cover herself instinctively.
“Nope.” Harper pointed. “Arms down. You’ve got perfect tits.”
Sadie’s stomach fluttered. Her arms fell to her sides.
Then came the bottoms. She wriggled out of her shorts, then the bikini — feeling her ass jiggle, cheeks burning, Harper’s gaze like a physical touch dragging down her thighs.
“Damn,” Harper murmured. “That’s what you’re hiding under all those baggy hoodies?”
Sadie stepped into the new bikini, trembling. She tied the sides, adjusted the top, tried to cover her nipples. But the suit didn’t cover anything. It cradled her curves like it wanted them on display.
Harper stood and circled her like a lion.
“Turn.”
Sadie turned.
Harper’s fingers brushed her back. “Loosen this string,” she said, tugging gently. Sadie sucked in a breath. “Better. Let your tits breathe.”
Then lower. Her hands skimmed over Sadie’s hips, settling on the plush curve of her ass. “And these,” she said, voice huskier now. “These are criminal. You should be arrested for hiding them.”
Sadie nearly whimpered.
Harper stepped in close behind her, hands still on her hips. Their bodies almost touched. Sadie could feel the heat radiating off her skin, the brush of Harper’s breath near her ear.
“You’ve got a body that begs to be shown off,” Harper whispered. “You’re just scared of being seen.”
“I’m not scared,” Sadie whispered back, even though her heart was racing.
Harper leaned in just a little more. Her tits grazed Sadie’s back through the thin fabric. “Then prove it.”
By the time they stepped out into the heat, the sun was high and merciless. It baked the patio stones beneath their bare feet and turned the pool into a glimmering sheet of blue glass.
Sadie walked behind Harper, conscious of every bounce and sway of her new bikini. The thin straps dug deliciously into her hips. Her tits felt too bare. Her thighs rubbed with every step. She felt exposed. Paraded. And Harper knew it.
Harper strutted to the lounge chairs like she was on a runway, golden skin glowing, long dark brown hair swaying down her back. The red bikini rode high on her hips, and her ass — round and perfect — flexed with every step. She bent over slowly, adjusting a towel.
Sadie’s eyes locked on the curve of her backside. The suit split her cheeks like a frame around art. She shouldn’t be looking.
She couldn’t stop.
Harper glanced back — caught her staring — and smirked.
“See something you like?”
Sadie looked away fast, heart thudding. “No.”
“You keep lying to me, Sadie.” Harper stretched on her chair, arching her back like a cat, arms overhead, breasts lifting high beneath the red bikini. “But your eyes tell the truth.”
“I wasn’t—”
“Relax,” Harper purred. “I get it. You’re not used to being around someone this confident.”
“I’m not used to being around someone this…” Sadie hesitated.
“This what?” Harper cocked a brow, sunglasses slipping down the bridge of her nose just enough to expose those icy eyes. “Blunt? Hot? Dirty?”
Sadie’s stomach twisted. “…So full of herself.”
Harper laughed, soft and low, then slid her sunglasses back into place. “Don’t worry. You’ll loosen up.”
She closed her eyes, sunbathing like nothing had happened. But her words clung to Sadie’s skin worse than the sweat did.
Sadie lowered herself onto the other lounger, adjusting her top, tugging her bottoms, feeling hyper-aware of every inch of her exposed skin.
And then Harper rolled onto her stomach.
The strings of her bikini shifted, slipping to the sides. One breast nearly spilled out. Her ass rose high in the air, glistening in the sun, glimmering with oil.
Sadie swallowed hard.
Her pulse pounded between her legs. She didn’t move. She didn’t breathe.
You’ll loosen up.
She already was.
Chapter 3: Bed Heat
The storm rolled in after midnight, loud and sudden, drenching the yard and hammering the roof like it had a point to make.
Sadie stood in the hallway, barefoot and quiet, watching the flicker of lightning flash through the living room window. The power had cut twenty minutes ago — no lights, no air conditioning, just the humid press of summer and the steady crack of thunder outside.
And one room in the house still had light.
Faint, flickering candlelight glowed from the crack beneath Harper’s door.
Sadie hovered, unsure why she hadn’t gone back to bed. Her thin tank top clung to her soft chest, her sleep shorts riding high between her thick thighs. She could still feel the heat between her legs from earlier — the echo of Harper’s hands on her hips, the brush of her body against hers.
She turned to go back to her room, but the door creaked open behind her.
“Couldn’t sleep either?” Harper’s voice was honeyed and low.
Sadie turned, startled. Harper leaned in the doorway, one arm up, her tank top damp and clinging, no bra beneath it. Her nipples stood out in the candlelight, proud and pink against her golden skin. Her toned stomach glistened with sweat.
“I—just… the storm.”
“Yeah. I figured.” Harper stepped aside. “Come in. It’s too hot to sleep alone.”
Sadie hesitated.
She shouldn’t.
But her feet moved on their own.
Harper’s room smelled like wax and warm skin. The candles were arranged around her nightstand and dresser, casting soft golden light across the bed. The sheets were half-tangled, twisted from Harper’s earlier tossing.
Harper climbed in and pulled the sheet down, revealing smooth legs and barely-there panties. “Get in before I change my mind.”
Sadie didn’t speak. She slipped beneath the covers, the cotton cool at first, then warm where Harper’s body pressed beside her.
Too close.
Their legs brushed.
Harper didn’t move.
Sadie turned onto her side, facing the wall, but she could feel Harper behind her — the heat of her breath, the slight shift of the mattress with every movement. The scent of coconut shampoo and sweat filled her lungs.
Then a whisper:
“Your skin’s so warm…”
Sadie tensed.
Harper’s hand brushed her side. Just the hem of her tank. Fingertips grazing the soft curve of her waist. Then nothing.
Sadie’s whole body buzzed.
Outside, thunder cracked again. Inside, neither of them moved.
Sadie closed her eyes and tried to sleep.
But her nipples were stiff, rubbing against her shirt.
Her pussy was wet.
And Harper was too close.
Way too close.
The candlelight was dying.
Its soft flicker painted shadows across the ceiling and over Harper’s smooth legs, one tucked just barely behind Sadie’s knee beneath the covers. Time had stopped moving the moment Sadie climbed into Harper’s bed. Every breath was counted. Every shift in the mattress felt like thunder.
And Sadie wasn’t asleep.
Not with Harper so close — the heat of her thigh against Sadie’s ass, the faint rhythm of her breath ghosting over the back of Sadie’s neck. She lay still, eyes wide open, her wavy blonde hair sticking to her temples. The room smelled like skin and storm.
Then Harper moved.
Not much. Just her hand… sliding over Sadie’s hip. Resting there.
Casual.
Familiar.
Too fucking much.
Sadie’s breath hitched.
Harper whispered, “You awake?”
Sadie stayed silent.
A pause.
Then Harper shifted again — her hips pressing in, her breasts flattening softly against Sadie’s back. Her thigh pushed between Sadie’s, lifting and settling. The contact made Sadie’s body seize up.
She wasn’t dreaming. She wasn’t misreading.
Harper’s skin was hot. Her hand slid lower — over the swell of Sadie’s thick hip, fingers brushing the waistband of her sleep shorts.
Then Harper sighed — a low, contented sound — and nuzzled close. Her nose grazed the back of Sadie’s neck. Her lips barely touched skin.
And then she did it.
She rolled her hips.
Slow.
Deliberate.
A soft grind of pussy to ass, her thin panties dragging across Sadie’s shorts.
Sadie’s body betrayed her instantly — her pussy clenched, her thighs twitched, her breath left in a gasp she couldn’t muffle.
Harper froze.
Sadie’s heart pounded so loud it echoed.
Then Harper whispered again — lower this time.
“I knew you’d feel good.”
Sadie still didn’t move.
She didn’t need to.
Her soaked panties told the truth.
Sadie didn’t move.
She couldn’t.
Not with Harper’s body wrapped around her like heat, like gravity. That slow grind hadn’t been an accident. And neither was the hand still resting low on her hip, thumb grazing bare skin just above her waistband.
Sadie’s eyes were wide open, staring into the dark, lungs tight, thighs trembling. Her heart was hammering between her legs.
Harper was still.
Waiting.
Then—
Her lips.
Soft. Delicate. Brushing the back of Sadie’s neck.
It was barely a kiss. But it landed like lightning. A whisper of contact, and Sadie’s body lit up from the inside. Her breath left in a broken whimper.
Harper heard it.
Of course she did.
Her arm tightened. Her chest pressed flush to Sadie’s back now — full tits pushing into her shoulder blades, warm and bare. Her hips rolled again, slower this time. The smooth slide of her pussy — only barely covered by panties — rubbing against the swell of Sadie’s ass.
Sadie moaned. Quiet. Shaky. Unmistakable.
Harper’s voice at her ear:
“Tell me to stop.”
She didn’t.
Harper’s hand slid forward, under Sadie’s hoodie. Her palm curved around the softness of her belly, then up, over the swell of one breast. She cupped it gently. Fingers teasing the edge of her nipple.
“Tell me no, baby…”
Sadie’s lips parted.
But all that came out was:
“Don’t stop…”
Harper groaned — low, filthy, triumphant.
She pinched Sadie’s nipple between two fingers and ground her hips deeper. Her pussy rubbed the base of Sadie’s spine, slow, steady. Her breath was hot against her ear.
“I knew you’d be so fucking soft.”
Sadie whimpered as Harper kissed her shoulder — again and again — dragging her tongue slowly over skin, biting gently. Her hand left Sadie’s breast and slid down… under the waistband of her shorts… her fingers brushing the soaked cotton of her panties beneath.
Sadie gasped. Her thighs clenched.
Harper just smiled against her skin and whispered:
“So wet for your sister already?”
Sadie’s body answered before her mind could. Her hips arched, legs parted slightly.
She was aching.
Burning.
And letting it happen.
Chapter 4: Mirror Games
Morning sun spilled through the blinds, cutting harsh lines across the carpet. The storm had passed. But the heat remained.
Sadie sat at her vanity, brushing out long blonde tangles from her wavy hair, her thighs bare beneath a too-short robe she didn’t remember packing. Her chest still ached where Harper’s mouth had kissed. Bitten. Her nipple still tingled from that slow, teasing pinch.
She could still feel the ghost of Harper’s breath at her neck.
She hadn’t slept after that.
Not after Harper’s hand slipped under her waistband. Not after fingers barely touched her through soaked panties before retreating — Harper whispering “Soon.” into her ear like a threat.
Sadie stared at her reflection. Eyes red-rimmed. Lips swollen. She looked like someone who’d spent the night aching and grinding and never getting off.
Because that’s exactly what happened.
She pulled the robe tighter.
And then Harper appeared in the doorway.
She wore only a towel, hair wet, clinging to her skin in soft long brunette cascades. Water still dripped from her thighs. The towel hugged her hips, barely covering her pussy. Her tits were exposed — round, proud, still dewy with steam.
Sadie froze.
Harper leaned on the doorframe, casual as ever. “You look like hell.”
“Thanks,” Sadie muttered.
Harper stepped inside, letting the door swing shut behind her. Her reflection appeared beside Sadie’s in the mirror — tall, confident, dripping, unapologetic. She moved like she owned the room.
“You sleep okay?” she asked, all innocence.
Sadie didn’t answer.
Harper leaned down slowly, her tits swinging close, water droplets hitting the vanity. She looked Sadie right in the mirror.
“Did you dream about me?”
Sadie’s lips parted, but nothing came out.
Harper smiled, teeth sharp. “Because I dreamed about you.”
Sadie stood up abruptly, knocking the chair back an inch. “I need to shower.”
Harper blocked the way. Her towel slipped slightly at one hip.
“You can shower,” Harper said. “But don’t wash it off.”
Sadie blinked. “What?”
“My scent. My taste.” Harper leaned in, voice husky. “Don’t pretend you didn’t touch yourself after I left your bed. Don’t act like you didn’t lie there soaking wet, moaning into your pillow.”
Sadie’s thighs clenched.
Harper smelled like shampoo and heat. Her mouth hovered inches from Sadie’s ear.
“You want more, don’t you?”
Sadie trembled.
And didn’t answer.
Sadie’s back hit the vanity.
Not hard. But firm. Intentional.
Harper stepped in, full of heat and wet skin and zero shame. Her towel was barely hanging on now — a slow shift of movement away from falling completely. Her breasts pressed softly into Sadie’s own, both of them breathing heavy, close enough that air no longer existed between them.
Sadie’s voice cracked when it finally came out. “You’re not serious.”
Harper’s smirk deepened. “You think I’d grind on you in bed, feel your pussy throb through your shorts, and not be serious?”
“You’re my—”
“Step-sister.” Harper’s voice was calm. Certain. “Not your blood. Not your boss. Just the girl who’s been making you wet for a week and counting.”
Sadie swallowed hard.
She hated how much truth there was in that.
Harper’s hand lifted — fingertips grazing the open collar of Sadie’s robe, dipping lower until she found the knot at her waist. She tugged. Just once. The robe loosened.
“Let me see you,” Harper murmured.
Sadie trembled. “I—”
“In the mirror,” Harper whispered, hot against her ear. “Look. Let yourself see what I do.”
The robe fell open.
Sadie gasped.
Her breasts, full and flushed, swayed slightly with her breath. Her nipples — soft brown and tight with arousal — stood out in the warm light. Her stomach, soft and curving. Her thighs, thick and trembling. Her panties were damp — visibly so — clinging to her mound.
And Harper… Harper’s hand slid around her waist, pulling her tighter. Her towel finally dropped.
Their reflections stood together now: Sadie naked in her open robe, Harper naked and proud, her tits brushing Sadie’s side, her pussy glistening with fresh shower heat.
“I shouldn’t want this,” Sadie whispered.
Harper smiled.
“But you do.”
She slid her hand between Sadie’s legs and pressed.
Sadie cried out — not loud, but sharp — a gasp that vibrated through her chest. Harper’s palm cupped her soaked panties, fingers firm.
“You’re soaked for me,” Harper said. “Just from standing here.”
Sadie looked away.
Harper caught her chin and turned it back to the mirror.
“Look at yourself. Look how your pussy reacts to me. Look at what you do to me, Sadie.”
And she reached down, between her own thighs, her fingers slipping between wet lips. Slowly. Openly. In the mirror.
Sadie’s knees went weak.
Harper leaned in, tongue brushing her ear. “This is just the beginning.”
Sadie couldn’t look away.
Not from the mirror.
Not from the curve of Harper’s body pressed against hers.
Not from the slow, obscene movement of Harper’s fingers sliding through her own folds — wet and shiny, working her clit with lazy confidence, her breath getting shorter, her eyes still locked on Sadie’s.
It was the filthiest thing Sadie had ever seen.
And the most beautiful.
“You want to touch me?” Harper asked, voice ragged but smug.
Sadie nodded, lips parted, chest rising and falling.
“Say it.”
“I want to touch you.”
Harper leaned in, her wet pussy grinding softly against Sadie’s hip. “Where?”
Sadie swallowed hard. “Everywhere.”
Harper smiled like a queen.
Then she grabbed Sadie’s wrist and brought her hand down between their bodies — slow, guiding — until Sadie’s fingers were pressed against the slick heat between Harper’s thighs.
It was molten.
Sticky.
Dripping.
Sadie gasped, instinctively curling her fingers, spreading Harper open.
Harper’s eyes fluttered.
“Don’t get cocky,” she whispered. “You only get what I let you have.”
Sadie whimpered, circling her fingers through Harper’s soaked slit, feeling the way her step-sister’s body twitched at even the slightest pressure.
“You’re so wet,” she murmured.
“Because of you,” Harper breathed. “You think I grind on just anyone in my sleep?”
Sadie stroked again — slower this time, her fingers trailing over Harper’s folds like she was memorizing every detail.
Harper’s head dropped to her shoulder, her hips jerking forward against Sadie’s hand. Her breath was hot and fast. Her tits rubbed against Sadie’s side with every motion.
“Don’t stop,” she whispered. “Rub my clit. There—like that—fuck, yes.”
Sadie obeyed.
Harper moaned into her neck, low and broken.
Sadie felt her own panties grow wetter just from hearing it — from the knowledge that she was making Harper tremble. That her fingers — clumsy and inexperienced — were enough to make her big sister lose her rhythm, her control.
Until Harper grabbed her wrist.
Pulled it back.
Sadie gasped. “What—?”
Harper turned her face toward hers, nose brushing hers. Her voice was a growl now, breathless and close.
“I didn’t say you could make me cum.”
Sadie froze.
Harper smirked, licking her lips.
“You’ll earn that.”
Then she stepped away — bare, flushed, soaked — and walked out, hips swaying, not even looking back.
Sadie stood alone in the mirror, robe wide open, fingers shiny with Harper’s arousal, heart pounding like a drum.
Chapter 5: Lines Blurred
The silence between them was louder than the storm had ever been.
Sadie didn’t see Harper for the rest of the day. No teasing glances. No passing touches. No smug little smirks from across the hall. Just absence.
And it made her crazy.
The longer the silence stretched, the more Sadie second-guessed every look, every whisper, every finger that had slid through wet folds that morning. Her body still buzzed with remembered touch, but her brain screamed confusion. Shame. Longing.
She paced.
Then stormed.
Then found herself outside Harper’s door, fists clenched at her sides.
The door was slightly ajar.
Harper stood at the dresser, half-dressed in denim shorts and a tiny cropped tee that showed off underboob and attitude. Her dark brunette hair was pulled back in a lazy bun, a few strands sticking to the curve of her throat.
She looked like sin in summer.
Sadie pushed the door open harder than she meant to. “We need to talk.”
Harper didn’t flinch. Didn’t turn. “About what?”
Sadie stepped in, eyes blazing. “You know what.”
Now Harper turned. Slowly. Head tilted. That smug glint flashing in her ice-blue eyes.
“I do a lot of things, Sadie. You’ll have to be more specific.”
“Stop it,” Sadie snapped. “Stop pretending this is some game.”
Harper walked forward, hips swaying. “It’s not a game. You begged to touch me. You rubbed my pussy until I nearly came.”
Sadie flushed crimson. “You— You made me.”
Harper laughed, soft and dirty. “Baby, you were dripping before I even laid a finger on you.”
Sadie shook her head. “This is messed up.”
“Say it again,” Harper challenged. “Say it like you mean it.”
Sadie opened her mouth — but no words came. Her chest rose and fell fast. Her nipples pushed against her shirt. Her hands were trembling.
“You want to call me disgusting?” Harper stepped closer. “You want to say this is wrong?”
Sadie swallowed. “I—”
Harper leaned in. “Then say it to my face.”
And then she kissed her.
Not soft.
Not hesitant.
Full.
Tongue and teeth and heat, their bodies crashing together like magnets too long denied. Harper’s hand tangled in Sadie’s hair, tugging hard, and Sadie moaned — actually moaned — into her mouth, knees weak, hands grabbing Harper’s waist to keep from falling.
It was messy. Hungry. Angry.
And Sadie kissed her back.
Sadie didn’t remember when her hands ended up under Harper’s shirt.
Maybe it was when Harper bit her lip.
Maybe it was when she moaned, deep and throaty, like it hurt not to touch more.
All Sadie knew was that suddenly her palms were full — soft, warm, perfect. Harper’s tits fit in her hands like they’d always belonged there. She squeezed and Harper gasped into her mouth, grinding her hips forward, denim shorts dragging against Sadie’s bare thigh.
The kiss never stopped. Just changed.
From lips to tongue. From teasing to hungry.
Harper sucked Sadie’s bottom lip hard enough to leave a mark, then pulled away just enough to breathe.
“Fuck,” she whispered, forehead resting against Sadie’s. “You feel even better than I imagined.”
Sadie’s fingers slipped under the hem of Harper’s top, pushing it up. Her nipples were hard — tight, pink peaks begging for her mouth. She didn’t think. She just dropped her head and sucked one in.
Harper’s knees buckled. “Oh, god—”
Sadie sucked harder, tongue swirling, hand kneading the other breast. Harper clutched the back of her neck, grinding up against her, panting like they were already fucking.
“You’re learning fast,” Harper breathed.
Sadie looked up, lips slick, eyes wide and hungry. “I want more.”
“Take it,” Harper growled.
Sadie’s hands slid down, grabbing Harper’s ass through her shorts — round, firm, made for worship. She squeezed hard, and Harper whined, the sound punched from her chest.
“You’re gonna ruin me,” Harper whispered.
Sadie shoved her backward toward the bed.
“You started it.”
Harper grinned — breathless, shirt twisted high, tits out, cheeks pink. “Then finish it.”
And she fell onto the mattress, legs open, waiting.
Sadie climbed onto the bed, straddling Harper’s hips before she could second-guess it. Her wavy strawberry gold hair spilled forward over her flushed face as she looked down — Harper’s lips parted, her tits rising and falling, her eyes wild with need.
She looked wrecked.
And perfect.
“You want me to stop?” Sadie whispered.
Harper’s breath caught. “If you do, I’ll scream.”
That was all the answer Sadie needed.
She leaned down, kissed her again — hard, deep, her tongue sliding into Harper’s mouth like it had a right to be there. Their bodies pressed together, skin slick, mouths sloppy. Sadie ground her hips into Harper’s denim shorts, their centers aligning, pressure building fast.
“Fuck,” Harper gasped against her lips. “Take them off. Now.”
Sadie sat back, fingers yanking at the button, dragging the shorts down Harper’s legs. No panties. Just bare skin. Wet. Open. Gleaming.
Sadie froze for a second, staring — Harper’s pussy was soaked, lips puffy, clit flushed and throbbing.
“Jesus…”
Harper smirked. “Touch me and find out.”
Sadie slid down her body, face between Harper’s thighs now, heat rising from her skin like steam. She ran her tongue slowly up Harper’s slit — from dripping entrance to swollen clit — and Harper cried out, her legs locking around Sadie’s shoulders.
“Oh my—fuck yes—don’t stop—”
Sadie didn’t.
She licked harder, faster, tongue curling around that throbbing button while her fingers slipped in — two at once, slick and smooth — curling just right.
Harper’s back arched. Her moans filled the room.
Sadie sucked her clit, fingers driving deep, faster now, messy and desperate. She loved the way Harper writhed. The way she begged.
“Harder—fuck, Sadie, right there, yes—yes—yes—”
Harper came with a scream, thighs shaking, fingers yanking at Sadie’s hair.
And Sadie kept going.
She didn’t stop until Harper was twitching, whining, begging her to breathe.
Then she slid back up, lips slick with her sister’s cum, eyes bright.
Harper’s hand cupped the side of her face, thumb brushing over her wet mouth.
“You’re not innocent anymore.”
Sadie smiled.
“I never was.”
Chapter 6: Taste and Obey
Harper hadn’t moved for a full minute.
She lay there, naked and ruined, legs still twitching, chest flushed, her tits rising and falling with every ragged breath. Her pussy still glistened in the light, lips parted and dripping from the orgasm Sadie had torn out of her.
Sadie sat beside her, silent, hands in her lap, body buzzing from the taste still on her tongue.
Then Harper turned her head slowly, a wicked smile blooming across her lips.
“My turn.”
Sadie blinked. “What?”
“You think you can make me cum like that,” Harper said, voice low, hoarse, “and not get wrecked in return?”
Sadie opened her mouth, but Harper was already moving.
In one smooth motion, Harper climbed over her, straddling Sadie’s soft belly, her golden thighs brushing the curve of Sadie’s full tits. Her hair fell loose around them, framing her flushed face.
Sadie’s breath caught. “Harper…”
“Shh.” Harper leaned down, kissed her — slow, deep, a claiming kiss. Her lips tasted like salt and sweat and something darker. She pulled back just enough to whisper:
“Be good and open your legs.”
Sadie obeyed.
She didn’t think. She didn’t hesitate.
She just lay back, let her robe fall open, and spread wide.
Harper slid down her body, tongue tracing every inch — over Sadie’s nipples, sucking them until they peaked; down her belly, across the soft curve of her hips. Sadie moaned, already trembling, her thighs squeezing together like they could hold back what was coming.
They couldn’t.
Harper kissed the inside of her thigh.
Then bit it.
Sadie gasped.
“You taste yourself on my tongue?” Harper murmured.
Sadie nodded, dazed.
Harper dragged her tongue through Sadie’s soaked folds, slowly, deliberately, moaning into her pussy like it was the first meal she’d had in weeks.
Sadie’s hands shot to Harper’s hair. “Fuck—!”
“That’s it, baby,” Harper whispered. “Let me eat.”
And she did.
She devoured her.
Harper’s tongue was relentless.
Sadie writhed beneath her, fingers tangled in Harper’s damp cascades of beautiful dark brown hair, pulling, clutching, barely able to breathe as her sister devoured her.
“F-fuck—Harper—please—”
But Harper didn’t stop.
She moaned into Sadie’s pussy like it made her high — sucking her clit hard, then slow… then harder again, tongue swirling, teeth grazing just enough to make Sadie cry out. Every stroke of her tongue sent shockwaves through her soft, curvy body, hips jerking up off the bed like they had a mind of their own.
“God—don’t stop—don’t you fucking stop—”
Her thighs tried to close. Harper forced them open.
“Keep them wide, baby,” she growled, voice vibrating straight into her slit. “Let me taste all of you.”
Sadie was soaked. Not just wet — dripping. Her pussy made the filthiest noises every time Harper licked her, and it only made her sister go harder.
She spread Sadie open with two fingers and dove back in, tongue plunging deep this time — licking her entrance, then fucking into her with slow, obscene strokes. Harper’s nose ground against Sadie’s clit, her moans muffled by how far inside she buried herself.
Sadie sobbed. “I’m gonna—gonna—fuck—”
Harper’s eyes snapped up, locking on hers, her mouth still buried between Sadie’s legs.
She sucked her clit — hard. Tongue pressed flat and fast.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Sadie screamed.
Her legs shook. Her hips bucked. She clamped her thighs around Harper’s face and came so hard her back arched off the bed, hands flailing, breath gone.
And Harper didn’t let up.
She kept licking. Sloppier now. Messier. Swallowing her moans. Drinking down everything Sadie gave her.
Sadie begged.
“Stop—fuck—please—it’s too much—”
Harper looked up, face soaked, pupils blown wide.
“No it’s not.”
She sucked her again.
Sadie came again with a broken cry.
Sadie couldn’t move.
Her legs trembled on either side of Harper’s shoulders, her body limp and quivering, chest slick with sweat. Her pussy was still twitching from the second orgasm — her thighs sticky, her clit so sensitive it throbbed with every breath.
Harper finally pulled back, licking her lips slowly like she wasn’t done. Her face was slick — chin glistening, mouth swollen, flushed all the way down her chest.
Sadie watched her in stunned silence, the kind that comes after a dam breaks and the flood still hasn’t receded.
“Holy fuck,” she whispered.
Harper smiled and crawled up her body — slow, deliberate, the kind of crawl that said she owned every inch of the space between Sadie’s legs now.
She kissed her.
Sadie tasted herself on her sister’s lips. Salty, sweet, raw.
“Still think this is a game?” Harper murmured.
Sadie’s voice was small. “I don’t know what this is.”
Harper’s hand cupped her cheek. Her thumb stroked the corner of her mouth.
“It’s whatever the fuck I say it is.”
Sadie’s lips parted. Her breath hitched.
Harper leaned down and whispered right into her ear:
“And right now… it’s you being mine.”
Sadie didn’t resist when Harper pulled the blankets over them. Didn’t stop her from sliding behind her, spooning her from behind, bare tits pressed to her back, one hand resting low — just above her freshly-fucked cunt.
“I’m serious,” Harper added, voice quieter now, but still laced with power. “You’re mine. Every inch. Every sound you make. Every drop of that wet little pussy.”
Sadie shivered, despite the heat.
Harper kissed her neck, slow and claiming.
“You’re not just my sister anymore,” she whispered. “You’re my favorite toy.”
Sadie’s breath trembled.
And she didn’t say no.
Chapter 7: Morning Devotion
The sun hadn’t fully risen yet.
Golden light just barely spilled across the windowsill, catching in the tangle of hair on Sadie’s pillow. Her body was still limp from sleep, curled on her side, one leg bent, the other stretched out beneath the sheets. Her robe was gone, somewhere at the foot of the bed. She lay bare beneath the covers — soft, curvy, unguarded.
And Harper watched her.
From the crook of her arm, Harper traced lazy fingers along Sadie’s spine. Down the dip of her back. Over the curve of her ass. Her nails scraped softly. Teasing. Reminding.
Sadie stirred.
A small moan. A stretch. Her eyes didn’t open yet.
Harper leaned in and kissed her shoulder — a soft, slow drag of lips.
Then again. Lower.
And again, at the curve of her waist.
Sadie murmured something — unintelligible, half-asleep.
Harper didn’t stop.
She tugged the sheet down. Bit by bit. Until the entire backside of Sadie’s naked body was exposed to the morning air. Her skin was warm from sleep, the swell of her ass still bearing faint red marks from where Harper had grabbed it hours earlier.
Harper kissed one cheek, then the other. Then spread them slightly and blew a warm breath against the base of her spine.
Sadie twitched.
A gasp escaped her lips.
“Morning,” Harper whispered.
Sadie’s eyes blinked open, dazed. “What are you…”
Harper kissed her again — just above her tailbone.
“You don’t ask questions anymore,” she murmured. “You just feel.”
Sadie shivered.
Then Harper’s hand slid under her thigh and lifted it, gently pulling Sadie onto her back, spreading her legs in one slow motion. Her fingers grazed the crease of her inner thigh, then moved upward.
Sadie was wet.
Already.
Even in sleep, her body remembered.
Harper smirked. “Told you I’d ruin you.”
Sadie swallowed hard, lips parted. Her nipples peaked in the cool air, chest rising in uneven rhythm. “Please…”
Harper leaned down between her thighs and whispered, lips brushing the folds of her pussy:
“Good girls wake up wet.”
Then she licked.
Long.
Slow.
And Sadie moaned herself fully awake.
Harper’s tongue was velvet.
Slow, teasing strokes that dragged along Sadie’s folds, licking up her slick arousal, then circling just shy of her clit — never quite touching. Never quite giving. Just enough to make Sadie moan. Whimper. Squirm.
Sadie gripped the sheets in both hands, chest heaving, eyes wide and unfocused as her thighs clenched and trembled.
“F-fuck—Harper—please—”
Harper chuckled against her pussy, the sound vibrating straight through Sadie’s core.
“Not yet.”
She kissed Sadie’s mound, then trailed her tongue in wide, wet circles — not quick enough. Not deep enough.
“You think I’m gonna let you cum just because you say please?” Harper murmured, fingers sliding up the inside of Sadie’s thigh. “You’re not in charge.”
Sadie whimpered. Her hands shot down, trying to pull Harper closer.
Harper slapped them away. “No.”
Sadie gasped.
Harper looked up, mouth shiny, eyes wicked. “You’re gonna learn how to beg right.”
And then two fingers slipped inside.
Sadie arched — hard — her mouth falling open as Harper pushed deep, curling her fingers just so, rubbing that sweet spot that made Sadie tremble instantly. But still — she avoided her clit.
She kept her right on the edge.
“I could make you cum so easy,” Harper whispered, pumping slow, grinding her knuckles against Sadie’s soaked pussy. “One flick of my tongue on that little button and you’d scream.”
Sadie nodded furiously, tears in her eyes. “Yes—yes, please—”
“But I won’t.”
Sadie sobbed.
Harper slid her free hand up, brushing Sadie’s nipples, squeezing one gently. “You think this pussy belongs to you now?”
Sadie shook her head.
Harper kissed the inside of her thigh. “Say it.”
Sadie moaned. “It’s yours.”
Harper’s smile was all teeth. “That’s right.”
She pulled her fingers out, licking them slowly, tasting her again.
Sadie lay there trembling, soaked, empty, ruined.
Then Harper spread her open again.
And finally — finally — let her tongue flick over Sadie’s clit.
Once.
Sadie’s entire body jerked.
“Say it again,” Harper whispered, teasing her with another flick.
Sadie sobbed.
“It’s your pussy… Harper… please let me cum…”
Harper’s mouth was back on her.
No more teasing. No more circling.
Just pure, filthy intent.
She flattened her tongue and dragged it over Sadie’s clit, slow but firm, pressure perfect. Sadie bucked, the sound that ripped from her throat closer to a sob than a moan.
Harper didn’t let up.
She pinned Sadie’s thighs wide with both hands, locking her in place, and licked her — again and again and again — fast now, her mouth wet and relentless, her breath hot against Sadie’s soaked slit.
Sadie tried to warn her. Tried to speak.
“I—Harper—I can’t—please—”
Harper growled low. “You don’t cum till you scream my name.”
Then she sucked.
Hard.
Sadie shattered.
Her hands grabbed for anything — the sheets, Harper’s hair, her own skin — anything to ground her as the orgasm exploded through her hips. Her back arched, her eyes rolled, and the scream tore out of her throat like it had claws.
“HAAAARRRPERRR—!”
It wasn’t even a name anymore. Just sound. Raw and primal.
Harper didn’t stop.
She sucked and licked until Sadie was writhing, gasping, convulsing in the sheets. Her thighs clamped around Harper’s face, but Harper only moaned into her pussy and pushed her legs wider again, tonguing her through every quake, every aftershock.
Sadie came again.
Screaming into the pillow. Body slick with sweat. Her pussy pulsing and leaking, thighs sticky, her chest rising in desperate gulps of air.
Harper finally pulled back, her face soaked, her mouth swollen.
She crawled up Sadie’s body, dragging her lips across her stomach, her tits, her neck — marking every inch with kisses and teeth.
When she reached Sadie’s ear, she whispered:
“Now you know who you belong to.”
Sadie didn’t answer.
She couldn’t.
She just nodded, eyes glassy, body trembling.
Owned.
Chapter 8: Caught in the Act
Sadie shouldn’t have touched the laptop.
It wasn’t hers. It sat open on Harper’s desk, half-hidden beneath a pile of rumpled crop tops and lace panties — probably left there while Harper was in the shower. The screen had gone to sleep, but the faint glow still pulsed beneath the black, waiting for a touch.
She hesitated.
She tapped the spacebar.
The screen came to life.
No password prompt. No desktop clutter.
Just one folder open, right in the center.
/Videos
Her mouth went dry.
Inside: timestamps. File names. No labels, no context — just dates and times, all recent. All from the past week. One from last night.
Sadie’s hand hovered over the trackpad.
She double-clicked.
The screen lit up with her own body.
Sadie gasped.
It was her — in bed, alone, facing the wall. The comforter pulled between her thighs. Her hand moving slow beneath it. Her mouth open. Moaning into the dark.
Last night.
After Harper made her scream.
She watched herself tremble. Hips bucking. Lips parted. Her voice rising as she whispered a name—
“Harper…”
Sadie snapped the laptop shut.
Her entire body went cold.
And then warm.
Then flooded with something she couldn’t name — shame, heat, confusion, and worst of all… arousal.
She was still wet. Still sore. Still aching in places Harper had touched and licked and owned.
She backed away from the desk, heart pounding, throat dry.
Harper filmed me.
And she didn’t even try to hide it.
The door creaked.
Sadie froze.
She hadn’t even heard the water stop.
Harper stepped into the room in nothing but a towel — damp, clinging, barely wrapped. Her long brunette hair was dripping, her skin still steaming. She paused in the doorway, eyes falling straight to the closed laptop.
Then to Sadie’s flushed face.
Then back again.
Silence.
Sadie opened her mouth.
Nothing came out.
Harper smirked — slow, lethal. “Did you like what you saw?”
Sadie stammered. “I—I didn’t mean to—”
“Bullshit.”
Harper walked across the room without breaking eye contact. Her towel slipped lower with every step. By the time she reached Sadie, it barely hung to her hips.
Sadie backed up.
Harper opened the laptop.
Double-clicked the same file.
The screen came to life again. Her own moans. Her own hand. Her own soaked pussy grinding into the comforter.
Sadie looked away.
Harper grabbed her chin.
“Don’t you fucking dare,” she said, voice low. “You touch yourself to me, you watch yourself do it, and then you flinch? Own it.”
The sounds played in the background.
Sadie’s voice.
“Harper… oh fuck…”
Harper dragged the chair away from the desk, sat down, spread her towel-covered thighs.
“Sit.”
Sadie blinked. “What—”
“On my lap. Now.”
Sadie obeyed before she could stop herself.
Harper pulled her close, one arm around her waist. Her other hand slid between Sadie’s legs, under her shorts, under her panties — right to the heat.
“Ohhh, baby…” Harper whispered, laughing softly against her ear. “You’re soaked.”
Sadie moaned as Harper slid two fingers into her pussy, slow and deep, eyes never leaving the screen.
“That’s you,” Harper said. “That’s how I knew.”
“Knew what?” Sadie gasped.
“That you were mine.” Harper kissed her jaw, her cheek, her neck. “You fuck yourself thinking about me. You moan my name into the dark. You watched this twice, didn’t you?”
Sadie couldn’t speak. Her hips rocked into Harper’s hand, her mouth falling open as her own voice on the screen climaxed.
“You’re gonna cum again,” Harper whispered, curling her fingers. “And you’re gonna do it watching yourself fall apart.”
Sadie cried out.
“You like watching yourself, don’t you?”
Her head dropped back. Harper’s fingers worked faster.
“Say it.”
“I—I love it—fuck—I love it—”
“Say who you belong to.”
“You, Harper—only you—”
Sadie screamed as her body broke, grinding down into Harper’s palm while her own recorded moans echoed from the screen.
She came to the sound of herself falling apart.
And Harper smiling behind her.
Sadie’s breathing hadn’t even begun to slow.
Her pussy still pulsed where Harper’s fingers had wrecked her — her thighs sticky, her tank top damp with sweat. She sat on Harper’s lap, legs spread wide, trembling, the laptop screen glowing in front of them. Her own voice still echoing from the speakers.
She watched herself cum again. On repeat.
And Harper?
Harper hadn’t let go.
Her fingers rested between Sadie’s lips, still buried, still wet. Slowly curling. Lazily teasing.
“You look so fucking pretty when you break,” Harper murmured. “I should’ve filmed last night’s scream. That one was better.”
Sadie whimpered.
Harper kissed her neck. “You want to delete it?”
Sadie hesitated. Her breath caught.
“I—I don’t know.”
“You came harder watching yourself than you did the first time.” Harper smiled against her ear. “So honest when you’re exposed.”
Sadie said nothing.
Just leaned back.
Harper grinned. “Good girl.”
She reached forward and dragged a new folder onto the desktop: /Favorites
Then she opened her desk drawer.
Sadie didn’t notice the phone mount at first. Or the small tripod. Or the way Harper set them up facing the bed with practiced ease.
She only noticed when Harper turned back, completely nude now, towel discarded, camera already recording.
Sadie’s heart skipped. “What are you—?”
Harper stepped forward. Grabbed her face gently, lips hovering just over Sadie’s.
“Look at me.”
Sadie did.
“Say it.”
Sadie’s voice trembled. “You’re gonna film me.”
Harper smiled. “No, baby. I’m gonna film you belonging to me.”
Then she pushed her back on the bed and knelt between her thighs.
Camera light glowing.
Harper looked straight at it, then down at Sadie.
“She begs so well, doesn’t she?”
Sadie moaned, face burning, thighs spreading on instinct.
“Don’t worry,” Harper whispered, dragging her tongue up Sadie’s slit. “This one’s just for us.”
And she started eating her again — slow, wet, messy — as the camera rolled, capturing every moan, every twitch, every whispered cry of Harper, please… don’t stop…
Chapter 9: Skin to Skin
Sadie’s body still hummed from the camera scene — her thighs a mess, her lips swollen, her voice gone raspy from how hard she’d begged.
But Harper wasn’t done.
She lay on her back now, legs spread, golden skin flushed and damp. Her long dark brown hair fanned across the pillows. She looked like something worshipped — naked and waiting, her fingers lazy between her own soaked thighs.
“No toys,” she said. “No cameras. Just you. Just me.”
Sadie knelt between her legs, heart racing, her curvy figure trembling as she took in the sight. Harper’s pussy glistened in the low light, lips parted and slick, her clit already stiff. She rubbed it slowly while she watched Sadie — never blinking.
Sadie swallowed. “What do you want?”
Harper reached up. Grabbed her hips. Pulled her forward.
“I want your pussy on mine.”
Sadie gasped.
“I want to feel you rub against me,” Harper whispered. “I want your fat little clit grinding into mine. No space. No lies. Just that filthy little cunt riding me raw.”
Sadie moaned — actually moaned — and let Harper guide her forward.
She straddled Harper’s thigh first, then let her body slide into place. Their pussies met in a slick kiss — soft lips pressing together, heat-to-heat. Sadie whimpered. Harper growled.
Then they started to grind.
Slow at first.
Wet lips slipping, sliding, catching. Their clits brushing just right.
Harper arched. “Fuck—yes, just like that—rub me, baby—”
Sadie braced on her elbows, panting, her hair falling around her face. “Oh my god—”
Their pussies slapped together, messy and loud, the sound of skin on skin mixing with their moans. Sadie’s thick thighs clenched around Harper’s hips as she rode harder, grinding down with everything she had.
Harper grabbed her ass, spreading her open wider. “Let me feel all of it—fuck—ride your sister—make us both cum—”
Sadie cried out, body shaking, her clit throbbing against Harper’s.
They weren’t close — they were merged.
Dripping.
Grinding.
Ruined.
And nowhere near finished.
Sadie was gasping.
Her legs burned, her pussy throbbed, her entire body trembled from the slick friction that had her clit twitching every time it slid against Harper’s. She tried to slow down, tried to breathe — but Harper wouldn’t let her.
“Keep going,” she growled, pulling Sadie down harder. “You ride that pussy until one of us breaks.”
Sadie’s moan cracked in her throat. “I’m—gonna—fuck—”
Their pussies kissed again — wet, loud, obscene.
Then Harper grabbed her waist, rolled her over, and pinned her flat against the mattress in a blur of strength and sweat. Sadie cried out as Harper straddled her, hair wild, tits bouncing, thighs glistening with both of them.
Harper’s voice was hoarse. “You wanna cum?”
Sadie nodded desperately.
“Then get up here and ride my mouth.”
Sadie blinked. “What—”
“You heard me,” Harper hissed, already dragging her up by the hips. “Turn around. Sit on my fucking face.”
Sadie didn’t think.
She couldn’t.
She just obeyed.
She climbed forward, thighs trembling, legs spread wide as she hovered over Harper’s face — Harper’s eyes wild and starving, tongue already out, waiting.
Sadie lowered her hips.
And Harper devoured her.
One long lick.
Then another. Then her hands clamped onto Sadie’s ass and held her down, forcing her to ride it. Sadie screamed, grinding down into her sister’s mouth as that slick tongue drove into her pussy, licking every drop, every fold, every swollen nerve.
“Fuck—Harper—oh god—oh my—”
Harper moaned into her cunt like it was her favorite flavor. Her tongue flicked Sadie’s clit again and again, fast, ruthless. Sadie’s hips moved on instinct, riding that mouth like it belonged to her, but Harper controlled every second of it.
“You taste like fucking heaven,” Harper growled, her voice muffled by wetness. “Now cum all over my face.”
Sadie sobbed.
Her thighs clamped.
Her stomach clenched.
And then she broke — gushing into Harper’s mouth, hips jerking, scream raw and feral as she rode the orgasm out across her sister’s tongue.
Harper didn’t stop licking.
Even after Sadie collapsed.
Even after she begged.
Sadie couldn’t feel her legs.
She slumped forward, tits pressing into Harper’s stomach, hair plastered to her own flushed face. Her thighs still twitched from the orgasm Harper had licked out of her — not just once, but twice. Her pussy throbbed with the aftershocks, raw and sensitive, still leaking down her inner thighs.
Harper exhaled underneath her. A long, satisfied sigh. Her lips were wet. Her chin slick. Her eyes glassy, half-lidded like she was drunk on Sadie’s taste.
“Damn,” she whispered, voice rough. “You came so hard, I think you squirted on my nose.”
Sadie groaned into Harper’s chest. “Shut up.”
Harper laughed. That wicked, lazy laugh that always made Sadie want to slap her or ride her again — sometimes both.
“You love it.”
Sadie didn’t answer.
She didn’t have to.
Harper’s fingers traced idle circles across her back — soft, slow, reverent. Not teasing. Not demanding. Just there. A touch meant for someone claimed. Someone kept.
Sadie buried her face deeper into Harper’s neck, breathing her in — the coconut shampoo, the sweat, the raw scent of sex that still clung to both of them like perfume.
Neither of them moved for a long time.
Then Harper spoke, quieter now.
“You don’t have to pretend anymore.”
Sadie blinked against her skin. “Pretend what?”
“That you don’t want me.” Harper’s hand slid lower, palm resting over Sadie’s bare ass. “That you haven’t always wanted me.”
Sadie didn’t respond.
Her breath shook.
Harper pressed a kiss to her temple. “I know everything about your body now. The way you breathe when you’re about to cum. The way your thighs shake when my tongue hits your clit just right. You’re mine, Sadie. And you love it.”
Sadie lifted her head slowly, eyes glassy, lips swollen. “I’m scared.”
Harper tilted her face up by the chin. “Of what?”
“Of what comes next.”
Harper’s smile softened — just slightly. “More of this.”
She kissed her — slow this time. Deep. With no rush, no pressure. Just possession.
Then she whispered:
“You’re not getting out of my bed ever again.”
Sadie didn’t argue.
Because she didn’t want to.
Chapter 10: Goodbye, Good Girl
The bags were packed.
The car was gassed up.
Sadie’s acceptance letter sat folded in her purse, sealed with a welcome packet and campus map. Tomorrow morning, she’d be gone.
But tonight?
Tonight was still Harper’s.
The house was quiet. Their parents weren’t due back for another three days. The rooms felt too big, too still — like the heat and the moaning and the sweat they’d soaked into the walls might echo forever if they stayed quiet enough.
Sadie sat on the edge of Harper’s bed, wearing nothing but one of her step-sister’s old band tees — oversized, soft, still warm from the dryer. Her wavy reddish-blonde hair hung loose down her back. Her thighs pressed together, skin still tender from the night before.
Harper leaned in the doorway, watching her.
Not smiling.
Just looking.
Like she was trying to memorize every curve, every bruise she’d left with her mouth, every place Sadie had opened for her and never closed again.
“You really leaving?” Harper finally asked.
Sadie nodded once.
Harper exhaled through her nose. “Fucking college.”
Sadie glanced up. “You make it sound like a prison sentence.”
Harper walked in, barefoot, slow. Her hips swayed under loose shorts, no bra beneath her tank. Her nipples showed through — hard, expectant. “No. Just feels like I’m about to lose something I finally got.”
Sadie said nothing.
Harper stopped in front of her and reached out — one hand brushing Sadie’s hair behind her ear, the other settling under her chin.
She tilted her face up.
Sadie’s breath caught.
“I meant everything I said,” Harper whispered. “You’re mine. You leave tomorrow, sure. But I still own that mouth. That pussy. That needy fucking body.”
Sadie trembled. “I know.”
“Good.”
Harper leaned in, pressing her lips to Sadie’s — not rough. Not teasing. Just there. Just full.
Sadie melted into it.
And when Harper pulled back, she whispered:
“I’m not gonna fuck you like before tonight.”
Sadie blinked. “No?”
Harper shook her head, eyes dark.
“I’m gonna make love to you.”
Harper didn’t shove her down this time.
She climbed into bed with her.
The air was warm, still humming with summer, the sheets barely clinging to skin. Harper pulled the hem of her shirt over her head and dropped it to the floor. Her golden skin caught the moonlight. Her tits rose and fell with each breath. And when she slid her hand under Sadie’s borrowed shirt — her shirt — it wasn’t to yank or grab.
It was to feel.
To explore like she hadn’t already memorized her.
Sadie lay still, breathing shallow, heart loud. Her nipples stiffened the second Harper’s palm cupped her breast. She arched into it, just a little. Her thighs pressed together.
“You’re so soft,” Harper whispered, brushing her lips over Sadie’s jaw. “So fucking perfect.”
Sadie’s eyes fluttered closed.
“I’m gonna go slow,” Harper breathed. “I’m gonna ruin you the way I should’ve the first time.”
Sadie nodded.
Harper kissed her — mouth open, tongue slow, patient. Her hand traveled down Sadie’s stomach, under the waistband of her panties, between her thighs. She found her wet, throbbing, ready.
Sadie whimpered.
Harper smiled against her lips.
“Every time you cum tonight, I want you to remember who made you.”
She rolled on top, straddling Sadie’s hips, their bare pussies pressed together through thin cotton. She pulled her own panties aside and reached down — gripping Sadie’s hand, dragging it between their bodies.
“Touch us,” she ordered. “Make us feel it.”
Sadie obeyed.
She rubbed slow circles — two clits meeting under her fingers. Wet. Sticky. Soaked.
Harper gasped. “Fuck, yes…”
Sadie’s other hand came up to Harper’s waist, nails digging in as she guided her hips down, grinding her pussy harder against hers.
“I love you,” Sadie whispered before she could stop herself.
Harper froze.
Then leaned in.
Kissed her hard.
And whispered back:
“Then show me.”
Their bodies moved like they were already mourning.
Sadie rocked her hips in slow rhythm against Harper’s, bare thighs pressed together, pussy sliding over pussy in a wet, intimate grind that made her whole body tremble. The room was quiet, save for the slick sounds of skin on skin, the soft gasp of breath through parted lips, the occasional hitch in Harper’s voice when Sadie did something just right.
Neither of them rushed.
They kissed between each motion. They whispered between each grind.
“You feel like home,” Harper murmured.
Sadie’s voice shook. “Don’t make this harder.”
Harper licked a slow line across her throat. “You already made it hard.”
Sadie let out a laugh — broken, breathless — that turned into a moan when Harper rolled her hips just right, clits locking and slipping in that soaked rhythm again.
Schlick… schlick…
Harper reached down and grabbed the backs of Sadie’s thighs, pulling her in tighter. “Ride it. Don’t stop.”
Sadie obeyed.
She ground harder now, faster — their pussies kissing, slapping, Harper’s tits bouncing above her. They were messy, soaked, ruined. Harper bent low and kissed her again, tongue deep, wet, possessive. Their bodies rubbed together like there was nothing else in the world.
“I don’t want to leave,” Sadie whispered.
“Then don’t.”
Sadie’s eyes brimmed. “I have to.”
Harper slowed. “Then take me with you.”
Sadie shook her head, crying now — quiet tears while she kept riding Harper’s clit like it was the only way to hold on.
“I’ll still taste you tomorrow,” Harper whispered, thumbing her cheeks dry. “On my lips. On these sheets. Every time I close my fucking eyes.”
Sadie broke.
She came with a strangled moan, legs shaking, pussy convulsing against Harper’s as they ground harder, both of them slick and trembling.
Harper followed seconds later, whispering Sadie’s name like a prayer.
They collapsed into each other, bodies tangled, sex-soaked and sticky and hot.
Harper held her. Sadie cried.
Neither of them said goodbye.
They just kissed — deep, slow, wet — and knew they were already planning how to make it happen again.
Epilogue: Halloween Heat
The dorm hall buzzed with music, laughter, and the heavy bass of bad decisions.
Strobe lights pulsed through open doors. Fake cobwebs clung to the ceiling like they were trying to escape. Plastic skeletons were taped to walls between sticky beer signs. Girls in fishnets and latex stumbled in heels. Boys in capes screamed lyrics into red Solo cups. It was chaos. Classic campus Halloween.
And Harper was halfway drunk.
She leaned against the edge of a kitchen counter in someone else’s dorm suite, red solo cup in hand, her “devil” costume barely staying together — black thong leotard, fishnets, glittering red horns, and a tail that slapped against her ass with every step. Her tits practically spilled out, nipples barely covered by sheer mesh. Every guy had stared. Every girl too.
She still didn’t feel like the hottest thing in the room.
Because she knew what was missing.
Sadie.
Goddamn Sadie.
She hadn’t seen her since August. Hadn’t heard from her in weeks.
And it fucking hurt.
The music shifted. Someone bumped her arm. She barely noticed.
Until the air shifted.
Until a voice said:
“Still whoring it up without me?”
Harper turned.
And her heart stopped.
Sadie stood in the doorway. Wavy strawberry blonde hair curled over her shoulders. A tiny black dress clung to her thick curves — strapless, tight, showing thigh and cleavage like she’d stepped out of a wet dream. Lace cat ears perched on her head. A tail hung off her belt. She looked flushed from the cold.
And she was staring at Harper like she hadn’t had a full orgasm in months.
Harper’s breath caught. “Sadie…”
Sadie stepped forward. “You gonna make me say it?”
Harper’s cup hit the floor.
She grabbed Sadie by the waist, yanked her in, and kissed her — full tongue, full heat, full hunger. The room spun. Cheers erupted behind them. Someone shouted “Fuck yeah!” from the couch.
Neither of them cared.
Harper bit Sadie’s lip. Sadie moaned against her mouth.
“I missed you so fucking bad,” Harper growled.
Sadie’s hands found her ass, squeezed. “Take me somewhere now.”
Harper didn’t ask.
She just grabbed her hand and led her out the door, weaving through the crowd, dragging her down a stairwell toward her dorm — two horny, costumed girls tearing into each other like Halloween had turned them into animals.
They didn’t even make it to the bed.
Harper shoved Sadie against the dorm wall, dropped to her knees, and pulled her panties aside.
“I’m eating this pussy right here.”
Sadie cried out — and she did.
And Halloween never tasted so good.
Sadie’s lipstick was smudged.
Her panties were damp, balled up in her purse. Harper had kept them as a souvenir after licking her to pieces against the dorm wall.
And now?
Now they were back at the party like nothing happened — Harper sipping vodka-soda with lipstick stains still drying on her chin, Sadie pretending she hadn’t just screamed her step-sister’s name loud enough to echo down the stairwell.
Every glance they shared felt like a threat.
Sadie leaned against the fridge, one leg cocked, sipping something she didn’t taste. Her dress clung to her hips like it was painted on. Her thighs still glistened from where Harper’s tongue had been. And Harper — fucking Harper — was watching her like a problem she intended to solve again.
The music pulsed. Bass throbbed.
Bodies danced.
Sweat dripped.
Sadie whispered, “Bathroom. Now.”
Harper didn’t hesitate.
She grabbed Sadie’s wrist and tugged her down the hall again — past drunk ghosts and slutty vampires, past a couple making out against a coat rack. The door slammed behind them. The line outside groaned.
Inside, the lights buzzed, too bright. The mirror was streaked. The floor sticky.
Harper didn’t care.
She shoved them both into the handicapped stall, locked the door, and pressed Sadie against the metal divider like they had ten seconds before combustion.
Sadie grabbed her face and kissed her — desperate, deep, filthy.
Harper groaned. “You’re never allowed to leave me again.”
Sadie reached between their bodies, palming Harper’s pussy through her thong. “Then keep me.”
Harper growled and hiked Sadie up by the thighs. Sadie wrapped her legs around her waist, dress bunched at her hips, pussy bare.
“No one can hear us,” Sadie lied.
Harper bit her neck. “Then scream for me.”
She dropped to her knees again, tongue already out, dragging it over Sadie’s inner thigh. The stall was hot. The party raged outside. And inside, Harper tongued Sadie’s pussy with slow, deliberate pressure, licking through the slick that never stopped leaking for her.
Sadie clutched the door.
“Fuck—Harper, they’ll hear—”
“I hope they do.”
Sadie’s moans echoed off the tile as Harper buried her face deeper, fingers sliding in, tongue flicking fast and hard. The stall rocked. Someone banged on the door.
Sadie came with a strangled cry, grinding down into Harper’s face, one hand slapping the wall, the other shoved between her own tits.
“You’re mine,” Harper whispered against her slit.
“Say it.”
Sadie was breathless. Fucked raw.
“I’m yours.”
The room was quiet now.
Morning light pushed in through the dorm window, soft and golden, cutting across the floor strewn with last night’s clothes — fishnets, thongs, lipstick-streaked cups. A fake devil horn rested crooked on the radiator. The tail was wrapped around the bedpost like it had tried to hold on longer than either of them.
Harper lay naked on her back, one arm folded under her head, the other resting across Sadie’s bare waist.
Sadie slept sprawled on her side — mouth parted, hair a tangled mess of curls and sweat, one thigh thrown over Harper’s hip like her body had already made the decision her mouth hadn’t.
Their skin stuck together in all the right places.
Harper hadn’t stopped touching her all night. Fingers grazing ribs. Lips brushing collarbones. Tongue between thighs. Over and over. Like if she kept licking her, Sadie wouldn’t disappear.
And now?
Now she just looked.
Because Sadie was here.
She’d come back.
A knock sounded at the door down the hall, then laughter, then silence again. Somewhere, a coffee machine hissed.
Sadie stirred.
“Mmmph…”
Harper smiled. “Morning, slut.”
Sadie groaned into the pillow. “Fuck you.”
“You did. Multiple times.”
Sadie cracked one eye. “Still smug, huh?”
“Still sore?”
Sadie didn’t answer.
She just rolled closer, eyes fluttering shut again as her hand slid over Harper’s chest — fingers tracing the outline of her nipple, then her ribs, then down to her hip.
“I can’t stay long,” Sadie mumbled.
Harper’s jaw tightened.
“I figured.”
“But I’ve got something worked out.”
Harper looked down. “Yeah?”
Sadie nodded, voice still thick with sleep. “My roommate doesn’t come back till Sunday. And my last midterm’s remote.”
Harper blinked. “So…”
“So I’m yours for three days.” Sadie looked up, eyes soft. “And I’m not letting you go this time.”
Harper swallowed.
And smiled.
“Took you long enough.”
She pulled Sadie in, lips finding hers — slow, deep, lingering.
No more summer.
No more waiting.
Just them.
Naked, tangled, and never letting go again.