Private Dance
by Pan
Chapter 2
Before I knew what was happening, I was standing, holding my sister. Any pretence of a lesson had disappeared at this point. She wasn’t demonstrating how I could show off for my husband; she wasn’t even dancing any more. We were just two sisters, making out in the middle of my living room.
I’ve always been stronger than Whitney, so I was able to carry her with no effort. We moved to the wall by my front door. I pressed her into it, so she couldn’t get away. I don’t know what I would have done if she’d gone, but I felt like I would have died.
I’m not exaggerating. I genuinely felt like if my sister had suddenly left, I would have died.
We continued to kiss. Her hands moved to my ass, her mouth to my neck. I put her down, still not sure what I should be doing with my arms. I’d started to get more adventurous, occasionally reaching under her shirt, or brushing my hand down past her breast.
God, her breasts. Her ass. Her body was so, so perfect. How had I never noticed that before? I’d spent twenty years with this goddess as my younger sister, and I’d never before noticed that her body was the definition of perfection.
At some point she switched places with me. Now she was the one pressing me into the wall, and I loved it. I could feel Whitney’s torso against mine, her lips making my toes curl.
I was kissing my sister.
I was kissing my sister.
I was kissing my sister, and I was the most wet I’d ever, ever been.
My hands were glued to her ass as she held me against the wall, kissing me tenderly, passionately, making me wonder how long she’d wanted this. Was that why she’d offered to dance for me, because she knew that it’d make me lose control?
No, I’d been the one who’d suggested the lesson. I’d practically begged her to dance for me.
How long had I wanted this?
My hand moved between her leg, groping her as clumsily. I felt like a teenage boy: inexperienced, desperately horny. I felt like my blood had been replaced with hormones. All I wanted to do was fuck. All I wanted to do was get off.
All I wanted to do was get my sister off. And my eyes lit up as I felt the heat radiating out from her core.
She wanted me.
Not as much as I wanted her—that, I was sure, was impossible—but her body didn’t lie.
My sister wanted me.
I couldn’t tell you how long we stood there, right beside the couch where I watched TV with my husband, next to the spot where I put my keys each and every day when I got home.
Finally, she pulled back, that look on her face again.
“Do you know my rates?”
“What?” I said, dazed. Honestly, I’m impressed I even managed to get the word out. The idea of my tongue being used for anything other than kissing my sister was, in that moment, difficult to imagine.
“A thousand dollars for ten minutes,” she said. “Five thousand for the full hour.”
My eyes widened. “Whitney…”
“But I’ll give you a discount,” she whispered. “Half price. You know, because it’s you. Because we’re family.”
Before I could respond, she was kissing me again, and I couldn’t think. I couldn’t think, or object, or do anything but want her.
God I wanted her.
Eventually, she pulled back. “The full hour?” she said sweetly, and I nodded dumbly. “Great.”
Realizing what we were going to do—what I’d just agreed to—I began pulling Whitney towards my bedroom, upstairs. It was the bedroom I shared with my husband, but that didn’t matter.
Nothing mattered except that what we were doing didn’t stop.
We were almost at the top of the stairs when Whitney slapped my ass. My knees buckled with arousal, and before I knew what was happening, I was on my back, Whitney’s mouth on mine.
“Oh, Whitney…” I moaned, as she again moved her mouth to my neck, my shoulders. My hands were on her breasts—such firm, beautiful breasts…how had I never appreciated her breasts before now?—and I giggled with sheer euphoria as she ran her hands through my hair.
“Now,” I gasped, my legs spread. “I need you…”
Whitney didn’t respond, just grinned, and straddled my leg. One of her legs was between mine; we were still both wearing jeans. Why were we still both wearing jeans? I wanted to be naked, I wanted my sister to be naked. Always. It felt like the natural state for both of us. We’d been naked when we were born, and it felt like everything from that moment to this had been a mistake.
This was how it was meant to be. I wanted to be naked with my sister, always.
I wanted her so much.
As we necked on the stairs, I was lucid enough to realize that she was probably counting this towards her hour, but I couldn’t stop. It was worth it. It was all worth it. I’d never again be able to leave my bedroom without remembering this, the most perfect time of my life, the time that I had my sister’s tongue in my mouth and her hand on my waist and my hands all over her incredible, flawless body.
Finally, I summoned up the wherewithal to stand, dragging my sister into my bedroom. There was a string of hearts across the headboard; I’d made them my husband for Valentine’s Day, and he’d kept them up because he thought they were cute. Beside the bed was the single red rose he’d gotten me for our anniversary just a few weeks earlier, and the walls were covered with photos of the two of us.
But I didn’t care about any of that. All I cared about was Whitney.
She pulled my top off ferociously, making me feel more wanted than anything my husband had ever done. I did the same, exposing a strange tattoo under her arm that I’d never noticed before. It was in a pointy script that I didn’t recognize, but I was too distracted to care.
All that mattered was getting her as naked as possible, as soon as possible.
Less than a minute later we were both topless. Neither of us are particularly busty. Whitney’s breasts are smaller than mine, but perkier as a result. They were perfect. They were so, so perfect.
I’d never before been topless in front of another woman without feeling self-conscious, but in that moment all I could feel was desire.
My hands roamed across my sister’s exposed back, occasionally moving to my own bare breasts. I just wanted to touch every part of her that I could. She looked fierce and proud as I kissed her mouth, her shoulders, her collarbone.
I had no idea how much time had passed, and I didn’t care. My husband could have come home to find us there, a pair of topless sisters, making out, me paying her for the pleasure.
Would he have been mad, to find me cheating on him, or aroused by our lesbian tryst? It didn’t matter; I wasn’t doing this for him, I was doing it for me.
I pushed my sister down onto the bed. She lay prone, and I found myself worshipping her jeans with my tongue, licking my way up one leg, pausing to nibble the fabric, then repeating the process with the other. Whenever I reached her ass—her perfect, beautiful ass—I’d bite it, then start again.
All the while, Whitney lay on my white sheets, happily earning two and a half thousand dollars for me to tongue the denim of her jeans.
With a crook of her finger, she brought me to her on the bed, and we continued to make out, my hands rubbing up and down the bare skin of her back. She had such flawless skin, and I could have played with it forever.
Whitney rolled over, and my heart leapt at the sight of her breasts. It had only been a few minutes since I’d seen them for the first time, but it felt like an eternity. I knew I could happily spend the rest of my life staring at those small, perfect tits.
Whitney unzipped my jeans, exposing my legs. I wriggled out of them, suddenly naked in front of my sister. A hungry look came across her face, and her lips met mine once more. It felt like I’d kissed Whitney more in the past half-hour than I’d kissed my husband in the entirety of our marriage.
The smell of my arousal filled the room, and Whitney bit her lip in anticipation. She moved one of her hands to my mouth; my tongue emerged to coat two of her fingers in my saliva.
I’ll never forget the moment my sister’s fingers entered me. It felt like an orgasm, minus the orgasm—I gasped, and my entire body thrummed with pleasure. I could have ridden that wave for a thousand years, but just as I felt like I was getting used to it, Whitney began moving her fingers.
My mouth opened, and I let out a long, loud groan. My mind was gone. It had started to leave as soon as my sister kissed me, but as her fingers confidently slid in and out of my wetness, I couldn’t have formed a thought to save my life. All I could do was react, enjoy the feeling of Whitney’s skilled digits, feel the swelling of an orgasm forming within me.
I was nothing but a ball of lust and horniness, and when my sister’s mouth returned to mine, I wasn’t even able to respond. I just lay there, slackjawed, as her fingers began to piston in and out of me and her tongue explored my mouth.
Just as I felt like I couldn’t take any more, like my brain was going to short-circuit from the overwhelming sensations of my sister’s talented administrations, she moved her mouth to my ear.
“Cum for me, Hannah,” she whispered. “Cum for your little sister.”
And I did.
Where my mind had been blank, just a haze of arousal and sensations and lust, it suddenly filled with fireworks. Every muscle in my body tensed at once, and I began shaking uncontrollably.
For a moment, I wondered who was moaning “YES” so loudly, before realizing it was me. My sister grabbed my face, and turned it towards mine. I closed my eyes, expecting her to kiss me again, but she squeezed my cheeks and I realized what she wanted.
She wanted to watch me cum. She wanted to watch her sister’s orgasm, to watch the climax that she’d caused.
Whitney wanted to fully appreciate our first incestuous encounter…and even then, I knew it would be the first of many. I didn’t care what my sister charged, I knew we had to do this again and again and again, even if it meant my brain melted out of my ears. Even if my husband left me, or I had to double my workload.
No matter what it took, I knew we’d do this again.
As Whitney stared into my eyes, I realized that the red flecks I’d seen weren’t just limited to her her iris. They seemed to be in her pupils as well, and they weren’t just flecks.
They were flames.
Two dancing flames, filling my vision, as my body was wracked with orgasm after orgasm, coming so intensely that I couldn’t keep up.
The flames filled my vision as I blacked out, overwhelmed with the pleasure caused by my sister.
When I came to, Whitney was putting her bra back on. She smiled down at me, laying naked on the bed, staring at her in awe.
“That was fun,” she said with a smile. “Fortunately, you passed out just as your time ended.”
I just stared at her, lost for words.
“You’ll venmo me the money, right?”
I nodded, not trusting my mouth to form speech.
“And if you want to do this again…—“
“I do,” I immediately responded, my words slurred. “Please.”
“I thought you might,” she nodded. “Just let me know when, and I’ll come around.”
“Uh huh,” I said, mentally trying to work out the earliest day I could possibly make this happen again. I knew I’d struggle to think of anything else in the meantime. Whitney slipped her shirt on, and strolled to the bedroom door.
“Oh,” she said, turning back. She smiled, revealing her pointed teeth. “And I’m going to be honest—I don’t think you should give your husband a lap-dance. Not everyone can do what I can do. Although…”
“What?” I asked, my head still spinning from what had just happened. We’d just…I’d…
And I’d loved every second of it.
“If you want, I could come and dance for him. I wouldn’t even charge you.”
My eyes widened, envisioning my sister dancing for my husband. It felt like my whole body pulsed at the idea.
“For the dance,” my sister continued. “But if you two wanted anything after that, well…he’s my brother-in-law. The family rate would apply.”
“Yes,” I said, my mouth dry, and my pussy oh so very wet. “Please. Please, yes.”
Whitney nodded, and slipped out the door. As soon as she left, I felt completely empty, like I’d just lost something great. I knew I’d be thinking about what we’d just done, until the moment we did it again.
I couldn’t tell my husband. He wouldn’t understand. Not until he felt the same way, of course.
A smile slowly spread over my face. It didn’t satiate the feeling of emptiness, but it helped.
This was going to be a birthday my husband would never forget.
* * *