"Wow! That was the hardest I've ever been spanked." My ass was really burning and I wasn't looking forward to tucking it back into my dress, but I knew I had to at least try to get back to the party before my big sister left with her new hubby.
"Sorry about that, but it seemed like what you wanted. My hands are a little sore, too."
"You did great, Brett. Best fuck I've had in two weeks. Hey, I don't mean to rush you, but we should both get down there to say goodbye to the happy couple."
"Oh, good idea. That will make the parents happy. Say, what was that thing you said at the end when you were coming?"
"Oh, nothing. It's just something I say when I've had a great fuck."
I shove him out the door with his fly still not zipped and his shirt not buttoned. I need time to clean up and fix my hair and makeup. Despite my best efforts, I feel a little more of Brett's cum ooze down my thigh as I get onto the elevator. Ironically, I think about how misnamed the elevator is when you're going down on it. Then I think about going down on Carlo and I mentally kick myself. Why can't I get that smug bastard out of my head?
I get back down just as Linda and Pete are walking out to the car, a trail of other well-wishers accompanying them and another group waiting at the car door. Candy is nowhere in sight. Brett saunters up from another direction, but we studiously ignore each other. He looks well fucked and eager to try for another score that night. It makes me feel cheap.
I wait as the happy couple has this last reception line and everyone says their goodbyes. I feel it's important that, as I'm the only family member present for Linda, I be one of the last. It seems they're in no real hurry to leave. They've been living together and I know Linda's cherry is a more distant memory than even mine.
When I get to her, Linda gives me a big hug and playfully smacks my ass. Damn, that hurts. I can't help but wince, but as I'm whispering my thanks for her being such a great big-sister into her ear, she can't see the pain she delivered. I feel I deserve it though. I think she can tell I've been knocked off kilter by something, but I don't think she knows I've just been laid and had my ass reddened to the shade of my dress after being made to feel like an inconsiderate slut by her asshole cousin. I feel so much better having made it back in time to do my sisterly duty and I swear to myself that I'll do better when the other two Lane sister gets married.
I don't feel up to dancing or facing Carlo with a cunt full of cum and spankburns on both cheeks, so I head back to the room for some cooling lotion and maybe a good cry until I sleep. I have a sense of foreboding that my life is going to get more complicated. I toss and turn and wish Candy would come back so I can pick a fight with her. Finally, I drift off, thinking she's with Brett or some other lucky guy.
I'm fast asleep around 7 AM, but wake when Candy comes sneaking into the room. "And where have you been, Little Miss Latey-pants." I'm normally not so swift on the conversation at that hour, but I wake with an attitude.
Candy giggles, not yet aware that I'm pissed off at her. "With one of Pete's brothers. The tall one. We danced and then went out for coffee and we talked all night."
"Not Brett?" I'm mad at her, but I don't want to see her hurt by a player.
"No, the tallest one. Charlie. You probably looked right past him. He's not your type, but he's quite the charmer."
I was itching for a fight anyway, but her comment hits like a jab in the nose. "What do you mean by that? And why the fuck didn't you tell me about Carlo's face?" There, I've ruined her good mood and I'm glad.
"You bitch! I think the right buck sniffed my tail last night. We had a wonderful night and part of the reason is that I know you won't look twice at him. I can wear tall heels with him and still feel like I'm not a freak. That doesn't happen very often. We aren't all blessed to be the perfect 5' 7"."
She's tired. I know that because she never speaks that honestly and directly about our height difference being a sore spot with her, except when she's tired. She knows I don't like whiners. She's 5'10" and she doesn't know that I would gladly take 1" of height from her for my legs, only to make my dancing a bit more dramatic.
"And as for Carlo, he almost died in the hospital from that cat bite and I..." She chokes up and then starts crying. I know I should hug her and help her through this, but dammit I'm still hurting and I'm not looking forward to sitting on a plane with a sore ass because she let me be sandbagged by him. Finally she blubbers, "He means so much to me. I just can't talk about it with someone who's judging him because of what happened to his face."
Now I feel like deep-fried freeze-dried dogshit. Not only Carlo, but now Candy is judging me and I'm coming up the goat. I want to tear into her, but I suddenly realize that anybody who heard about this would believe I really am the goat. "It's clear that you need some rest, Candy. Go to sleep. I'll come back to wake you in time for the airport." It's the closest I've ever come to saying 'I'm sorry'. She's never seemed to need it and she always realizes she shouldn't expect me to make up for her self-esteem issues.
I get dressed in tight jeans and a tee, making sure she doesn't see that my ass is a little bruised. I don't normally wear panties, except with short party outfits. Thongs accent my ass and keep the pervs who only watch the dancing from getting sneak peeks of my hoohah. For some reason I consider wearing them today. A small thong seems appropriate. Without realizing what it means, I wonder what Carlo would prefer.
When we get back to Chicago, things get very strange. During the ten months since then, I only have sex with guys nine times and each one is a disaster. When I get oh so close to getting off, I see Carlo's face and he's laughing at me. I think about him every day. I replay his words. Sometimes the good, but mostly the bad. All too often it is, "On your step-sister's special day, you are a fica. A cunt on the hunt."
Twice I have women licking my pussy and that is not so bad. I at least get to come, and in my head I see Carlo smiling the excited smile that he meant for Candy when I first met him.
And then there's Option Three. I've never really liked masturbating. There's no reward like I get with seeing a hot guy with a meaty cock that gets hard for me and then coaxes an orgasm out of me by getting a little rough. But now that guys aren't doing it for me and I don't like the idea of going all girl, I buy a few toys and fantasize and when I come, I see the smiling friendly Carlo.
But the worst part is the damage to my relationship with Candy. We both moved out of our parent's house when we graduated from our colleges and got jobs. We got a 2-bedroom apartment together and it was great to still have her to go clubbing with. Before Linda's wedding, she brought back almost as many hot guy stories as I did. Back then, we never had a problem with nudity as we moved about the place.
Things are different now. I am almost always wearing at least bikini panties and a shirt around the apartment and so is Candy. We say very little to each other and everything that we each do seems to bug the other. She enters a long distance relationship with Charlie, one or both of them traveling every few weeks for booty calls. Finally she moves out to a studio apartment and leaves me with the entire rent until the lease expires. Fortunately, Marcy moves in with me after breaking up with a guy we all thought she would marry, but I learn that Candy tried to talk her out of it.
Marcy and I go clubbing together, but I'm so cock-shy that she comes home with all the hot guy stories. I tell her that it must be old age catching up to me, but aside from the not coming issue, I'm just not seeing the qualities I want in the men I meet. I try looking outside my norm. I dance with Asians and Blacks and Hispanics. Even Arabs and yes, Italians. None of them do it for me. Marcy, who acts just the way I used to act, becomes tiresome. I try to pump her for information about the relationship between Candy and Carlo, but she was too young at the time of the cat attack and Candy doesn't talk about it with her either. It seems Candy never talks with anybody about it, except when her and Carlo are together.
I try researching pumas and find that the puma Carlo and Candy met must have been a cougar, a mountain lion fairly common in the southwestern US where the Lanes were vacationing before Carlo moved to Italy. It's a large frightening animal, especially dangerous to children. I can't imagine what it must have been like. I try telling Candy in an email that I need to understand about her and Carlo and the cat, but her reply is a simple, "Fuck off."
My career is the only bright spot in my life. I have bachelor's degrees in both marketing and packaging and my employer seizes on the synergy between the two. A stroke of luck or a strike of lightning occurs and they decide to send me to Boston for a 3 day conference along with a senior engineer. I ask Marcy to confirm that Carlo still lives there and to get me his email address or phone number. I decide that since he is at the center of my sexual dysfunction and my estrangement from Candy I must find a way to get his help in getting past both. Marcy, gets the data from Candy. I waffle over whether to call him or send email. I'm afraid if I speak directly to him that he will somehow keep my words from coming out. I decide to write him a note.
Subject: I'm Changing And It Hurts April 14, 2006
To: carlogatXXXXXXXXXXXX
From: sinfullkindeeatXXXXXX
Hello Carlo.
I am Cindy, your cugina Candy's sister. We met at Linda's wedding. I desperately need to talk with you. My life has been awful since Linda's wedding and Candy and I are all but enemies and I don't know why. I only know that you have somehow come between us. I know you don't owe me this, but I'm tired of hurting without knowing the reason. I will be traveling to Boston on business during the second week of May. I will arrive on Monday night and depart on Thursday afternoon. I'm hoping we can meet on Tuesday night. I will buy dinner. Please help me.
Cindy
Subject: RE: I'm Changing And It Hurts April 17, 2006
To: sinfullkindeeatXXXXXX
From: carlogatXXXXXXXXXXXX
Hello cousin. I remember you very well. You are still my cousin and I don't like to have unhappy cousins. I am sorry I did not respond sooner, but I was away. I have a longstanding commitment on Tuesday evenings, so dinner on Tuesday is not good for me. Perhaps we could meet for drinks at your hotel on Monday night and then, if it seems necessary, we can meet again for dinner on Wednesday.
Regards, Carlo
Subject: RE: I'm Changing And It Hurts April 17, 2006
To: carlogatXXXXXXXXXXXX
From: sinfullkindeeatXXXXXX
Grazie, Carlo!
I can't tell you how relieved I am. I hope you don't mind me becoming familiar with your other language. I hope only to express my gratitude in a pleasing way. Drinks on Monday sounds good. I can be ready at 9 PM. I hope that's not too late. I 'll be staying at the Intercontinental. On Wednesday night I have a business dinner, but maybe we can meet for drinks again later.
Yours, Cindy
Subject: RE: I'm Changing And It Hurts April 17, 2006
To: sinfullkindeeatXXXXXX
From: carlogatXXXXXXXXXXXX
Ciao, Cindy.
I appreciate the Italian, it is such a beautiful language. I am shedding myself of some of the formality of it, but I still find it useful and pleasing in the familiar context. Drinks at 9PM at the Intercontinental. It has several bars and one is very cozy. Perhaps we should meet in the Lobby.
Cordiali saluti, Carlo
Subject: RE: I'm Changing And It Hurts April 18, 2006
To: carlogatXXXXXXXXXXXX
From: sinfullkindeeatXXXXXX
My warmest thanks, Carlo.
In the lobby at 9PM.
Distinti saluti, Cindy
I don't know why I am doing this extra stuff, learning Italian and shopping for a new look. I know that I made such a bad first impression on Carlo that the damage is probably irreparable, but for the sake of Candy and this weird triangle relationship we'll have at each Lane wedding and eventually funerals, I want to patch things up.
I arrive, check in, shower, shave and otherwise prepare myself just as if I'm going cock hunting, except for some very crucial differences. I don't dare to hope that I'll be getting laid tonight, and I'm not sure that I want to. I know that's not like me, or rather the old me, but it seems right that tonight should be a meeting of the minds, not a meeting of the grinds. Carlo can help me, I think, and I want to be selfish and address my sexual dysfunction first, but it just seems more crucial to enlist Carlo in helping me with Candy and I also think that will show him a better side of me.
So I dress for possible sex, because I want to feel sexy when I talk with him. But my new look for meeting him is much more elegant, more mature, more sophisticated and more demure. There would be no convincing him that I've become chaste, but I will settle for seeming charming and sincere to a man I think is more sophisticated than me. This starts with shoes, black with 2" heels and continues to nude thigh high stockings, sheer and lacy black bikini-cut panties with a matching bra, a black half slip to help hide the panty lines, a dark blue dress with a neckline that only hints at the goods below, and understated makeup and jewelry. I look in the mirror and I almost don't recognize myself, but there is no doubt that I am still a beautiful creature.
I arrive in the lobby at five minutes to 9 and find Carlo standing there.