Seven Minutes with Sister [ff]

My sister and I had always been close. Only a year apart, we had been inseparable since grade school. Of course, there was a friendly rivalry between us, one which she often came out ahead on despite my year long head start. She was the brains of the family, and I was the butt.

At least, that’s how we joked about it, given how “well endowed” I was. A natural beauty by my junior year, strawberry blonde hair that I kept shoulder length, brown eyes and light freckles, with a bust and ass that left little to be desired.

My sister, Elana, for the most part inherited the same looks. She adopted a different style: hair longer, often braided, opting as well for wide-rimmed glasses where I chose contacts. She tended to dress more casually as well, a hoodie and a pair of jeans for every occasion. Beneath all that her own assets were slightly less gifted, though only just, I often noted.

Given her academic accomplishments, she had been able to skip her last year of elementary school, moving straight to middle school the same year I did. It was a rough transition at first, starting over from scratch socially. Fortunately many of my own friends already knew her, and were more than willing to take her in. Every birthday party I was invited to, she attended as well. Mall and movie days were of course a joint operation. Half the time even our rec sports teams included both of us.

For most girls at that age, it would have been hell. A younger sister tagging along every day would be the ultimate downer. Yet, for whatever reason, I always found Elana easy to hang out with. We were inseparable, not only because we were practically twins, but also because we were close friends.

“Only a couple of blocks,” she chimed from the passenger seat, scrolling through her phone.

The comment shook me back to reality, as I refocused on the ill-lit road ahead. Yes it was only a couple blocks now, though each crack in the asphalt carried with it the threat of ice. Snow swept suburbia stretched out in all directions, many lawns decorated festively with light up reindeer and sleighs.

A Christmas party awaited us at our destination, hosted by our close friend Justin. As we turned onto the street of our destination, the low bass of party music grew louder, reverberating through the score of cars parked along the street. We were fashionably late.

Parked and parka’d, we shuffled along the snow trench of a walkway to the front door, music almost drowning out the sound of laughter and hooting from inside. The event was in full swing.

The host himself welcomed us inside, helping us out of our parkas, stuffing them carelessly into a coat closet.

“Glad you too could make it,” he smiled, dark curls falling gracefully around his face. He was a junior, same as us, and just now flourishing into complete manhood. His olive complexion, firm jaw and thick raven hair gave away his Greek ancestry.

We followed him further into the house, into the kitchen who’s island had been invaded by a small fleet of liquors, sodas and red solo cups. Justin’s girlfriend, Lena, hovered over the mixing station, fulfilling orders that came from the other side of a makeshift bar table.

I snuck up behind her, wrapping her in a bear hug as soon as she wasn’t in danger of dropping anything.

“Guess who?” I cried.

“Mel!”

Elana now joined the fray, wrapping her arms around both of us.

“And Elana!” Lena continued, stretching her arms behind her in an effort to hug us both.

I had known Lena since middle school. Ever slender with frizzy black hair and a blinding smile, she was the daughter of Algerian immigrants, alluring if not downright exotic for the small town we all inhabited. She and Justin had recently started dating, only a month or so prior. Relationships within our social circles were often short lived, though usually ended amicably. Time would tell with this one.

Pleasantries and greetings exchanged, Lena insisted she make us both drinks, chatting away happily as she poured generous helpings of vodka and soda into our cups.

“That you two may find love as well,” she toasted, holding now her own drink.

“Cheers!” We cried in unison, awkwardly knocking together our three plastic cups.

I gagged slightly on my first draft. Strong, Lena. Way too strong for a first drink. Looking at her beaming eyes and ever-present smile, I could tell she was already past the point of being able to notice. With a wrinkled nose, I powered through my second swig. I wanted to get there too.

Love had been mostly absent in my high school life up to this point. Not for lack of opportunities: I was always early to throw my name into the girls’ bowl for Seven Minutes of Heaven, and I had made use of the guest rooms in several houses during parties such as this. But no serious relationship had ever sprung from such encounters.

I scanned the room, eyes flitting from face to face, boy to boy. Some were previous conquests, though I still wouldn’t mind another fling or two before my days here were up. A rarer few were still in that yet to be tasted category. With my looks, I often had their hearts, and their cocks, wrapped around my finger by the end of the night. Tonight would be no different, I decided.

I elbowed my sister, who was scanning the room as well, mouth hidden behind her cup. She jumped slightly, as if startled.

“Nervous, Elana” I prodded, poking her again. I knew she was ticklish and often took full advantage of it.

“No, no,” she laughed, wriggling to avoid my jabs. “Just lost in thought.”

I nodded, knocking back another sip.

“Do me a favor, will you?”

She looked up at me, smiling.

“Of course.”

“Get me a Seventh ticket, would you?”

Her smile broadened into a devilish grin.

“Such a slut!” She teased, sticking her tongue out.

“Oh hush,” I laughed. “You go to the same parties I do.”

Elana shook her head and wandered off, in search of the Seven Minutes of Heaven bowls. For my own part, I made my way into the living room, where the dancing was happening.

Dancing, in the context of inebriated high schoolers, should be imagined with the loosest of definitions. By this time, the dance floor had usually devolved into a mishmash of bump and grind dancers, topless girls and handsy couples. There weren’t enough guest rooms to go around, and it was too cold to put the backyard to use, which meant horny pairs often resorted to full on voyeurism.

Entering the humid space, I found tonight was no exception. The highlights of the scene were two girls in nothing but their panties making out on the coffee table, while just beside them my friend Jess, entirely naked save for a headband with fuzzy reindeer antlers, knelt in front of the couch, lips wrapped around the cock of some boy I had seen only in passing at school.

I watched the two girls as they continued their show, feeling the warmth of arousal rush to my base, as they ran their hands over each other’s bodies. At the rate I was drinking, I would end up out there with them before the night was out.

I had never been with a girl, despite the opportunities. Cocks had always been my go to. But, there was always a first for everything I noted, eyes widening as the girl on top slid down her lover, tugging off the other girl’s panties as she went, before diving face first into the now exposed pussy.

Quite the show, I mused, blushing slightly at how much I was enjoying it.

“Here you are,” Elana called behind me, hand outstretched with a small piece of pink folded paper.

I took the ticket, carefully unfolding it, as Elana turned her attention to the spectacle in the living room: 11:45. 10 minutes from now, I noted, checking my phone, more than enough time to finish my drink.

“They’re having fun,” Elana chimed in, nodding towards the entwined pair.

“More than I am at least.”

Elana snorted in agreement, but added nothing.

The alcohol had begun to take full effect, loosening my inhibitions. I was beginning to look forward to my seven minutes, absentmindedly tracing my fingers between my breasts along the soft fabric of my dress. No underwear for me tonight. I was here on a mission.

“Time for me to go,” I announced, handing the now empty cup to my sister.

“Have fun, I’ll just be stuck out here.”

“You could go help Jess,” I joked, motioning over to the brunette eagerly bobbing up and down on a cock. “The more the merrier, and it is in the holiday spirit.”

Elana laughed, shaking her head.

“Not tonight.”

—

The closet was almost pitch black once I had shut the door, save for the thin cracks of light that slipped past from the hall outside. The faint smell of its previous inhabitants mixed in with the musty scent of coats and suitcases. My sexual drive began to take hold, breath quickening. I began to grow wet. What boy would come through that door? Would it be someone I had seen earlier scouting out the party, or perhaps someone who had arrived shortly after us? I squirmed with anticipation before an idea took hold.

I slipped out of my dress and flats, sweeping both into a small pile in the corner. I ran my hands through the hanging coats, stopping once I had found my prize: a scarf. No sooner had I tied it into a blindfold did I hear the sound of the door handle jiggling open, followed by a quick burst of light and then darkness. I was no longer alone.

My lover took no time in initiating, wrapping his arms around my waist and drawing me in. Soft lips met mine, tongue probing, penetrating, running along my own. My hands found their way down his sweatshirt, and front of his jeans, surprised at the lack of an erection. Perhaps he just needed some encouragement.

As our makeout session continued, I reached up to run my fingers through his hair, surprised at the length. Simultaneously, my lover’s hands had made their way to my breast, thin fingers tracing a nipple playfully, stopping to pull occasionally, sending me deeper into ecstasy.

We pulled apart briefly, just enough so that I could hear my lover’s breathing, wispy and fluttering. It was then that it dawned on me: my partner was a girl.

Momentary hesitation gave way to lust, as I cupped her ass, pressing her into me, enjoying the firm feeling of her breasts against my own. As the necking continued, my mind wandered back to the girls in the living room. When this was finished, maybe I would go out and join them. The more the merrier, right?

The closet’s other occupant had different plans, inserting a break into the action in order to disrobe. As our bodies rejoined in embrace, she moaned, the feeling of full skin contact sending tingles up both our spines. Without a word, she began her descent, kissing the base of my neck, then each breast and along my stomach.

My pussy was on fire, begging to be eaten, yet still my lover did not give in, stopping off to worship the inside of both of my thighs. Her breath spread warmly across my loins, teasing me with the promise that my wish would be fulfilled. Yet still she held off, each second an excruciating pleasure.

Finally, her silky tongue made contact, as I let out a gasp of excitement. She was an expert, tracing every sensuous fold and crevice, lips pulling at my labia. I had never been eaten out this well before. The perks of making love to a girl, I figured.

I leaned my head back against the wall of the closet, inadvertently slipping the improvised blindfold off. By now my eyes had adjusted to the dark, and I could make out the various coats and jackets stowed inside. Some were from other guests in at the party. I must get a look at this wonderful creature pleasuring me!

What I saw shocked me. Elana, my younger sister, knelt before me, eyes closed, engorged on my pussy. I bit my lip as the competing emotions of ecstasy and horror washed over me. This wasn’t right! She had tricked me!

Eyes still closed, she reached a hand above her head, entwining her fingers with my own. What an odd feeling, I thought, placing my free hand on her forehead. I began to stroke her hair, rocking my hips slightly with each brush.

I did love her, after all. I always had. We had spent hours together, through thick and thin, keeping each other company through lonely nights, curled up in bed. No one else knew me better, knew what I liked and disliked, what made me laugh.

I was nearing climax now, small moans escaping my lips each time she ran her tongue over my clit. That golden tongue that had helped me emotionally, now aiding me physically. It was a natural extension.

At last, Elana opened her eyes, large, moon-colored ovals that radiant warmth and belonging. I was fixated, staring into a piece of myself, lovingly serving me. My thighs pressed against her cheeks, as I threw my head back, hands gripping identical hair and fingers. Release.

I slid down the wall, butt coming to rest on top of a suitcase. Elana shuffled between my legs, still kneeling, looking up at me.

“I love you, Mel,” she whispered, smiling sheepishly. “Sorry for fooling you.”

I smiled back, placing a hand under her chin.

“I love you too, sister,” I reciprocated, patting her on the cheek.

I pulled her in, slowly, enjoying the unfamiliar rhythm of her aroused breath, a sensation I’m sure I would grow more accustomed to in the near future. Our lips joined, as I tasted the erotic mixture of her lips and my own pussy.

“Now,” I interrupted, pulling just far enough away to see a devilish smile creeping across her face. “How about you and I find a proper room to continue this in?”

Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/khz6ci/seven_minutes_with_sister_ff