Bianca and Carla were not only sisters but best friends and had always gone on nights out together. The more academic of the pair, Carla was at college while Bianca worked in a local bar. They both believed in working hard - but playing even harder, which they did as often as possible.
They had contrasting appearances, Bianca being dark and Carla fair, but they each had a gorgeous thick mane of hair flowing down to neat waists, framing their petite, pert bodies.
Early one Saturday evening, they were getting ready to go out and had already polished off a bottle of wine. They were now downing vodka and cokes, music blasting around the room to get them in party mood.
Bianca held up two bra and knicker sets, black in one hand and red in the other. “Which one?”
Carla cocked her head to one side. “I like the black one. I always think black is sexy.”
Bianca shrugged her bathrobe from her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor and displaying her naked body. Carla looked away quickly, slightly embarrassed.
“God, I wish you wouldn’t do that,” she sighed. “It’s weird seeing you standing there totally naked.”
“Oh, don’t be such a prude,” Bianca protested. “I don’t have anything different than you.”
Carla self-consciously pulled her bathrobe belt tighter before picking up curling tongs to begin the laborious task of curling her thick, luscious hair. Bianca looked in her compact mirror, pouting her plump lips. She had always been the more dominant of the sisters, hence her hair had been curled an hour earlier - she’d insisted on the first use of their shared tongs.
Not only was Bianca the most dominant, she was also the most sexually promiscuous. She’d lost her virginity three years ago and hadn't wasted any time since then in her pursuit of cock. Carla's purity had always been a sense of wonderment and curiosity for Bianca.
“When are you going to finally have sex?” she asked Carla, snapping shut her compact mirror and giving a look so intense it caused her sister’s chest to flush.
Throughout their childhood, Bianca had always won when they played board games. If she didn’t win, she would throw a tantrum and, for Carla, it really wasn’t worth the hassle for any small victory of her own. Their father always took Bianca’s side and he said he liked her free spirit. He also didn’t seem to mind when Bianca took to walking around the house naked in her teenage years. She called it her ‘being at one with nature phase’. In comparison, their mother always took Carla’s side.
"Not everyone wants to be a little slut you know,” their mother would say, her mouth contorted in distaste. "At least one of my daughters has the decency to behave herself."
Carla kept her own sexual stirrings under wraps, masturbating quietly in the privacy of her bedroom. Bianca, however, was noisy when she masturbated and, at times, she didn’t even bother to lock her bedroom door. She’d laughed when she told Carla about the time their father had accidentally walked in on her. He’d been mortified and hastily retreated. The very thought of it all made Carla blush so violently she felt like her cheeks were going to melt under the heat of her embarrassment.
Bianca had also confided once to Carla that Uncle Mike had kissed her on the landing on the night of one family get together. He was their mother’s younger brother who was fit as fuck and had his fair stream of female admirers. Carla had caught him a few times looking at her, his eyes lasciviously roving over her body. Although it had made her feel uncomfortable, she was also thrilled that he possibly found her attractive.
Apparently, the night he kissed Bianca, he’d put his hands up her skirt and pulled her knickers to one side. Bianca giggled, her eyes alight as she described how his fingers had probed her opening before delving inside her. "I was a virgin at the time," Bianca recalled. "After that, getting fucked was all I could think about."
Although her sister’s behaviour often appalled Carla, she secretly got off on her sister's provocative behaviour, even if she didn’t want to admit it.
“I just haven't met anyone yet that I want to have sex with,” Carla said, replying to Bianca’s question.
Bianca snorted, “Of course you have. There have been loads of guys interested in you. It’s just that you’ve chosen not to take them on. Are you scared about the whole thing or what?” Bianca raised her eyebrows. “If that’s the case, let me tell you there is nothing to be frightened of at all. Okay, it hurts the first time, but that doesn't last long, you soon get into it.”
Bianca fastened her bra, arranging her breasts into the cups to ensure her cleavage was full and inviting.
“Honestly,” she continued, “the pain only lasts for the first few minutes as they push inside you. It’s obviously going to hurt a bit. After all, it’s like shoving a huge sausage into a keyhole."
Bianca turned this way and that, appraising her reflection in the bedroom mirror.
"The human body is amazing,” she added, jiggling her breasts. “Once it’s adjusted, trust me, it's fucking awesome.”
Carla felt her cheeks go warm, the familiar sign that she was blushing. Unwittingly, Bianca had hit the proverbial nail on the head: Carla was scared about having sex. She’d been worried for so long that she consoled herself with the fact, that, if there was some mystical sexual quota, Bianca was definitely having enough for both of them.
Lately, Carla had found herself fantasizing about Bianca’s new boyfriend Dillon. In Carla’s eyes, Dillon was absolutely gorgeous with his deep-set green eyes, olive skin, and amazing physique. Not that Carla had ever seen his physique in the flesh. She'd only seen it within his tight ribbed t-shirts, but his muscular pecs made her pussy wet.
Of course, their mother clearly didn’t approve of Dillon. She hadn’t voiced any protestations because she knew that her opposition would simply encourage Bianca even more.
So, whenever Dillon came round, their mother was dutifully pleasant to his face when both girls knew damn well she was seething inside. Like now as she announced Dillon’s arrival.
“Bianca, Dillon is here.” She always sounded like she was talking through gritted teeth whenever she said Dillon's name.
Quickly - and not before time, Carla thought - Bianca finally pulled her knickers on, concealing her shaven pussy within the minuscule black lacy triangle. Bianca grinned at her and flicked her hair over her shoulders.
“I won’t be a minute,” she said, leaving the bedroom wearing only her knickers and bra. “Send him up, Mum,” she shouted from the top of the stairs.
Carla’s stomach somersaulted with nerves. If she’d known Dillon was going to turn up, she would have got ready in the privacy and safety of her own bedroom.
Reaching across the dressing table, Carla lifted her glass of vodka and coke and downed it to steady her nerves. She slammed the glass down, just as the bedroom door opened. Standing in the doorway, Carla motioned for Dillon to step inside.
Carla noticed that he entered the room with an element of relish. He smiled in Carla’s direction and she nervously smiled back before turning her attention to curling her hair.
“I told you I was going out,” Bianca admonished Dillon, shutting the bedroom door and sliding the lock across.
“I thought I would call and see you,” Dillon drawled. “Is that okay?”
Carla kept looking straight ahead as she finished curling her hair. Putting the curlers on the dressing table, she bent and unplugged them. She started to busily look through her makeup bag, trying to decide what shade of eye shadow to wear. That was preferable to thinking about the awkward fact that she was locked in a bedroom with her sister and her boyfriend.
“Well, now you’ve seen me, what do you think?” Bianca asked, turning down the music.
“I think,” said Dillon, his voice thick with obvious desire, “in that get up you need a hard fucking, to be honest.”
Bianca giggled. “Oooh, what an excellent idea.”
Despite herself, Carla had to look across the bedroom at her sister. She watched as Bianca pushed Dillon onto the bed, right beside her, and straddled his thick, denim-clad thighs.
Carla averted her eyes again and took a palette of eye shadow from her makeup bag. The sound of Bianca’s and Dillon’s wet kisses permeated the tense atmosphere of the room. Nervously, Carla reached for the bottle of vodka and poured a hefty measure, topping up the rest of the glass with coke.
She already felt a bit squiffy but, in this situation, she needed to deaden the anxiety she felt inside. Carla also realised that, if she wanted to bolt the proverbial stable, she would literally have to leap the hurdle that was Dillon and Bianca.
Bianca was grinding her pussy against Dillon’s crotch, causing him to groan with deep, masculine, unadulterated pleasure. Carla decided that she’d best speak up before things escalated.
Abandoning applying eyeshadow, she popped it back in her makeup bag. She took another swig of her drink before clearing her throat, trying to get Bianca's attention. “Erm, I think I'll leave you two alone and get ready in my own room.”
That said, she stood up and the slight wobble in her legs confirmed that she’d drunk a little more than she should. Her head was a tad hazier than it should have been and it took a few seconds to focus her eyes. With an extreme effort, she maneuvered through the tight space between the dressing table and the edge of the bed.
In one sharp, swift move, Carla felt Bianca’s hand push her on the shoulder. The movement, without the stimulus of alcohol, would not have had any effect on Carla, whatsoever. However, it now had the effect of a boxer being knocked over. Carla fell backward onto the bed.
“You don’t have to leave,” Bianca insisted. “We want her to stay, don’t we, Dillon?”
Bianca’s words seemed to pull Dillon out of his horny coma. He looked at Carla as if he’d just become aware of her presence. He looked back at Bianca, his eyes glazed over like he was completely under her spell. Carla hoped that he would do the gentlemanly thing; insist that he and Bianca had time alone. Surely he must have thought this scenario was weird. Instead, Carla watched his broad shoulders shrug.
“She can stay with us if she wants,” he said, grinning. “The more the merrier in my eyes.”
Carla saw a self-satisfied smirk cross Bianca's lips. “I knew you would be up for it, baby,” she said and slowly unzipped his jeans.
Ten minutes later, Carla was transfixed as she watched Bianca’s lips move up and down Dillon’s cock. It was the first time that Carla had seen a cock in the flesh. She just couldn’t understand how her sister could take something so rigid and long in her mouth. And with such vigour.
Carla was also struggling to fathom how her sister's mouth could create such a film of slime and foam, which was now coating Dillon's balls. Carla watched Bianca suck and simultaneously rub the bubbles, massaging Dillon with expertise.
Despite herself, and even though she knew deep down it was wrong, Carla felt a stirring inside. Her pussy that had never been invaded by anything but her own finger, was emitting feelings that she’d never experienced.
She watched as her sister stopped her pornstar-quality sucking and moved her black lace knickers to one side before climbing on top of Dillon, taking his thick cock inside. Carla found herself tilting her head to one side, inching a little closer to get a better view. A hand went to her pussy and she gently started to play with herself.
Dillon’s cock was now absolutely saturated with Bianca’s juices and, suddenly, they all increased their pace, Carla rubbing her pussy in synchronisation with the rhythm of the couple fucking wildly at her side.
Bianca let out a loud moan, announcing the arrival of her orgasm, before she clambered off Dillon, and took his cock into her mouth. She ran her tongue up and down his length, lasciviously licking off her juices. Then she looked at the cock throbbing in her hand… and held it out towards Carla.
“Fancy some?”
