“Don’t let her get to you,” is his response.
“Okay,” I respond back, like it’s that easy.
“Freya,” he sighs. “I’m serious. She’s a hard person to be around.”
“Okay,” I repeat. What else is there to say?
As soon as we enter my place I head upstairs, “I want to shower.”
Vic moves to follow. I stop him with my palm, “Alone.”
He doesn’t look pleased, but takes a seat on the couch anyway.
I take a long, hot shower since my sister isn’t here to bark at me about wasting water and how we only have this one earth, and how we’re all using it as though it’s bountiful, etcetera, etcetera. Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for conserving and not being wasteful, but dang it, sometimes a girl needs some extra time in the shower.
While I let the hot water pound on my shoulders, I remind myself that Vic’s sister is human just like I am and to not let her make me feel so small and unworthy. She obviously has issues with her brother liking me and that’s not my problem. It’s hers.
When I’m finished I lightly dry my body off with a towel, leaving my skin damp enough that my moisturizer will easily glide on, then I comb out my wavy hair with my fingers. I scrunch in some coconut oil on the ends for some healthy shine and to keep the waves more of a ‘beach babe’ look and less ‘cavewoman fro.’ With a towel wrapped around my body, I go to my room to decide what to wear. I pull out my favorite navy blue maxi dress and pair it with a thin brown belt. It makes my boobs look bigger than they really are. Next I slip on my booties and grab my blazer from earlier on the way downstairs.
Vic is sitting on a chair with a leg bent over his thigh, taking me in. I do the same, both of us visibly admiring the other. Everything about him draws me in, from the way he holds himself so sure and confident in who he is, to his dark features that are so incredibly handsome they make my stomach flip over when I look for even a second.
I haven’t touched him in over twenty-four hours and my body feels it from head to toe. I need him like I need air.
Once I reach Vic I lift the bottom of my dress up so I can straddle him. His bent leg goes down, his hands at my hips, helping me. They then move to my bare buttocks, kneading into them. I place my lips to his, ease in my tongue, and slowly, almost torturously, play with his. His hands are still kneading into my butt cheeks, moving them so all the best places are rubbing against his hard cock that is straining against his pants.
Vic shoves my thong to the side, easing his fingers between my folds, and his breathing gets heavy when they glide effortlessly from the dampness already there. “So wet.”
His W’s come out sounding like V’s and it always, always, sends a shiver down my spine. His voice alone is a drug to my senses.
I reach to unzip him, whispering into his ear, “You do that to me.”
Vic’s other hand curls into my hair, taking hold of the strands and tugging them back as his eyes bore into mine, “You’re the only woman I’ve ever wanted.”
I know he means it. His brown eyes are transmitting more emotion behind them than I have ever seen on him or anyone else.
We kiss like if we stop we won’t survive.
His tip is at my entrance, teasing its way in, when the door opens, Maya’s familiar voice carrying through. I groan, my head falling to his shoulder in disappointment, while Vic pulls down my dress enough that my behind isn’t on display.
Maya and Keith are arguing, something regarding politics. He’s a Republican (my dad almost refused to let us date because of that) and she’s Peace and Freedom Party. They argue at least once a week about their views, pissing each other off enough that they won’t speak for a few days. I refuse to tell them (or anyone) my voting choice, hating the way it divides people.
Vic shifts enough that his cock slips inside me. I gasp, biting into his neck, hoping they won’t hear.
Flynn follows behind, playing mediator, trying to not let this turn into a full-blown fight that leaves them both crabby and refusing to be in the same room as the other. They turn on Flynn, who is a Democrat. He holds his hands up in surrender, always giving up when they try and bring him into the mix.
“How about you, Vic? What are your thoughts?” Keith probes, looking for someone to back him up.
Vic moves in his seat again like he’s trying to get situated and I curl in my lips to not groan out load from how it takes him deeper inside of me. “I’m not a citizen.”
“Where are you from again?” Keith questions, more accusatory than necessary.
“Eastern Europe.”
I laugh. Everyone else frowns, not amused by his vagueness. I think Vic does it on purpose, toying with everyone; his brand of humor.
The debate continues and I try to slide off of him. Vic has other plans and his hands firmly bring me back down. My eyes close, mouth parted from the sensation. I clench around him to make him in agony just like me. His face reveals nothing, but I know it got to him by the jerk of his cock inside me and the brief tick of his jaw.
I break up the dispute the best way I can think of, “Vic’s sister is joining us.”
All conversation stops, just as I had assumed would happen. I’m twisted enough that I can see them. It’s clear that Maya has already informed them all about her.
None of them have clued in that Vic has his dick inside of me. It makes me wetter. This is by far the naughtiest thing I have ever done (so far).
“This should be interesting,” Flynn grumbles, knowing his girlfriend will get involved; she’s very protective of her younger sister.
“No shit,” I agree. On the other hand, it might be fun seeing Maya and Vikki interacting.
Maya goes up to change and Flynn follows. They are experts at quickies.
Keith fishes out his cell and calls his wife, finding out that her, Liza, and Ray are already waiting for us. When he goes to use the bathroom I begin rocking my hips, grinding down as hard as I can, Vic’s strong hands clamping around my waist. I lift the front of my dress so he can watch the way I’m wrapped around him. His hands lift me up, stopping at the mushroom head, and gliding me back down. He becomes mesmerized, doing it over and over until Keith returns.
Keith lights up one of Maya’s pipes and offers Vic some, already knowing my answer will be no. Vic declines. When Keith goes into the bathroom again to find a way to mask the smell (Chloe doesn’t like it), I reluctantly ease off of Vic.
Vic nods down at his erection, my juices coating his cock, “Lick yourself off me.”
I drop to my knees, pulling him to my mouth and sucking it all off. His hands are in my hair, pulling himself down to the back of my throat. I love it when he’s rough. I know women would criticize me for it but I don’t care. It’s hot and it drives my libido insane.
Vic yanks me back up with a pop, sliding his painfully hard looking dick back into his pants and pulling me onto his lap at the exact moment Flynn and Maya come into view at the top of the stairs.
Shortly after, we leave. The night air is much colder than I had anticipated. I snuggle up to Vic’s arm as we walk.
Vic’s voice is low enough for only me to hear, “You have me at a very dangerous point, Freya.”
“So do something about it,” I challenge. I’m aching to the point that I’m not sure I’m going to make it all night without some sort of release.
“I’m tempted.” The words linger in the air.
We go to one of our favorite bars when we’re in the mood to dance. Their dancing floor is small, but the DJ knows us and always plays our favorites.
Vic has the others enter before us, taking my elbow and moving to the side, “You get uncomfortable, you tell me.”
I nod, not wanting to be redundant with more okays.
He brings his lips to mine in what was supposed to be a quick kiss, but we’re both incredibly turned on from earlier and instinctively react by entwining our tongues, hands weaving into hair, his still-prominent erection grinding into me. In return I
rub against him like a bitch in heat, having no shame that we are on full display for any passers-by. I could really care less at the moment.
Vic brings his mouth to my ear, “We survive this, I’m going to fuck you so deep and hard you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.”
I groan at the idea, clamping my sex in anticipation, and we kiss for another minute, sloppy from us both being overcome with arousal.
A “tsk” noise distracts us.
Vic’s sister is a few feet away, dressed in all black again, with red lipstick and heels. She switched out her dress for skin-tight pants and a fitted top that hugs around her breasts. I want to ask where her Pink Ladies jacket is, but figure that would probably just amuse her and I don’t want to make her amused.
“I’m surprised at you, Vicsuyan,” an accent comes out for the first time when she says his name.
“Vikki,” he acknowledges, stepping away from me and towards her. They kiss each other’s cheeks, once on each side.
“Freya,” Vikki smiles and it’s fake as she embraces me the same way as her brother.
I don’t like cheek kissing; I don’t understand it. But then again, I’m not a big hugger either, at least when it comes to strangers. My stiffness only seems to bring her further enjoyment. I’m beginning to think my presence alone is entertaining to her.
We go inside and every single person, male or female, watches Vikki pass, her demeanor not fitting in with the rest of the bohemian/laid back vibe of the place (or this town for that matter).
Ray’s mouth is hanging open as Vic helps her into an empty seat at our table. Vic frowns when I don’t wait for him and sit down myself. I’m not one of those girls who thinks men should open doors for women. I think people should just open doors for everyone; men, women, it doesn’t matter, it’s just the polite thing to do. But helping them sit down? That’s just weird to me and far too old fashioned.
I make introductions. Vikki has a closed-mouth smile as she acknowledges everyone, her eyes glowing like she’s holding a secret about everyone she meets. She has a mysterious element to her and the same allure her brother possesses. Even I catch myself staring too long. If she’s anything like her brother, I assume it’s all planned to be that way. She knows exactly what she’s doing by standing out, drawing people in, yet everyone keeps a safe distance, not feeling adequate.
My group of friends don’t know how to act with Vikki and Vic at our table. We all look like children compared to them. We act like them too. The twins are poised, belonging more in an upscale club filled with dirty martinis, men in custom fitted suits, and women who have mastered the art of seduction and high heels, not some shot-taking, beer drinking crowd, where the men are in wrinkly clothes that “smelled clean” off the floor, the women go bra-less in flowing long skirts, and there’s more hemp jewelry than the nineties had chokers.
A few times I catch the two siblings exchanging a glance, communicating to the other with unspoken words.
“I’ll get us some drinks,” Flynn offers, forever the buffer. “What does everyone want?”
We all put in our order and Ray goes with Flynn to help carry them back.
Vikki leans over her brother to speak to me, “Your friends are so cute. How young is everyone?” She makes it sound like she’s not sure if we’re even old enough to enter kindergarten.
I pretend like she isn’t insulting us, giving a factual reply, “Liza and I are twenty-four, the rest are twenty-six.”
Vikki looks to her brother, “You always did like them young.”
Vic’s jaw ticks, “Must run in the blood.”
Vikki laughs and I’m happy to find it’s not only me she finds entertaining. “It must.”
“Sorry if our adolescence isn’t up to your standards,” I deadpan. Vic is only eight years older than me; it’s not that big of a gap. I decide to test her just as she’s doing to me. I turn chipper, with an underlying tone of mocking, “Perhaps you should try the senior center? Tonight is bingo. I hear if you dilute the free prune juice just enough it taste like wine.”
Vikki runs a tongue along her lips, the vibrant red not shifting in color or moving from its place (that’s some damn good lipstick). Her pupils’ dilate, taking up the brown irises, darkening her features.
I make a mental note to remember that Vikki hates being referred to as old. This will be useful information in the future, or perhaps before the night is over.
Flynn and Ray arrive with the drinks, plus an added tequila shot for everyone. I have no plans on drinking more than my single beer tonight. I need to be one hundred percent clear headed in order to survive Vic’s sister.
I’m surprised that Vic accepts the shot glass. I’ve never seen him finish a glass of anything before.
“Namaste,” the group cheers, raising their glass to everyone.
Vikki raises a brow at Vic, whose mouth twitches, trying to hide a smirk of his own.
Everyone downs the shot at the same time. My eyes are on Vic, watching his throat slide it down. He doesn’t grimace like the rest from the cheap taste, acting as if it is a sip of water.
Everyone has lime smiles, keeping them there and making funny faces at each other. Vic stares at them like a father during dinner as his kids are making bubbles in their milk. My wonderful friends could care less, growing more comfortable with the twins around, never ones to really ever care what people think (one of the things I’m most proud of about them).
Vikki waits until everyone is done. She sprinkles salt on her wrist, the movement making her breasts jiggle against the tight black fabric. Her tongue slowly laps it up from bottom to top, peering up at everyone through her lashes. That same hand moves the shot of tequila from the table to her mouth, which is slightly parted in anticipation. She leans her head back enough that it elongates her neck and you can see the liquid being swallowed in a way I’m sure it’s making every man imagine other things going down that same throat. She places the empty glass down with little force, yet with a hard enough thump that you know it was no delicate wine glass. At the same time her other hand reaches for a lime wedge, placing it into her mouth, sucking it in, her cheeks hollowing, her lips pouting around it. One. Two. Three times she sucks the juices, leaving little to the imagination on the skills she possesses. She skillfully pulls it out, her lips moving along with it, coating the edges, plumping them to maximum fullness. Red vs. green. Stop vs. go. It plays with your head. A tinge of red remains on the lime, in the shape of her mouth.
The table is silent, staring, processing the scene that just took place.
I reluctantly have to admit that it was one of the hottest, sexiest things I have yet to witness. It was like watching a commercial: “Buy our product and you can have the woman of your sexual fantasies, willing to do what no woman before her has.” If it were a commercial, their stock just skyrocketed.
Vic rolls his eyes, which has me holding in a laugh; it’s not something I would expect from such a composed person. I’m relieved to know siblings are siblings no matter the background, designed to grate on your nerves.
Maya grabs Flynn’s arm, pulling him up with her as she chugs half her beer. “Let’s dance.”
Maya gains a lot of attention when she dances, her body naturally moving to the rhythm. Flynn’s not so great, but he worships my sister enough to go out there and make a fool of himself.
Chloe and Keith join them, both excellent dancers and a captivating couple to watch.
Liza, who is sitting on my other side, moves her body closer to mine. “How are you handling her?”
I don’t know how to answer, at least not truthfully, not wanting Vic to hear me. Instead I give Liza my “help me” expression, the one we have used on each other as far back as I can remember when we’ve gotten ourselves into a situation we don’t know how to handle.
Liza pats my thigh, eyes meeting mine like this is a co-op affair and we’re about to enter enemy territory, “I’m on it.”
“So, Vikki,” Liza begins gaining the ta
ble’s attention. She takes my shot, chasing it with her beer. I know her technique, she’s going to play herself off as drunk. What she really just did was put the shot in her drink (thank you Coyote Ugly), a time old tradition we use so the next day we can play off our crazy behavior as being too drunk. Liza gets up to take the empty seat next to Vikki. “Tell me about that lipstick? It’s like it’s tattooed on.” Liza’s sitting so close she’s all up in Vikki’s personal space.
Vikki leans back as best she can to create room. She opens her mouth but Liza interrupts, coming in closer, “We should totally go shopping, like tomorrow or something. Wouldn’t that, like, totally be awesome? And like, so much fun?” Liza has made it her life’s mission not to say totally and like when she talks, as it annoys the shit out of her when others do it. I swallow back some beer to keep from laughing. Have I ever mentioned how much I love her? Best friend ever.
Vikki opens her mouth once again and Liza cuts her off once again, “O.M.G. Those shoes! Where did you get them?” Liza bends down enough to peek at Vikki’s feet causing the beer in her hand to begin spilling over the top, ready to splash onto Vikki’s lap. At the same time, you can see it loosening itself from Liza’s grip, the condensation making it slippery.
Faster than the scene unfolds, Vikki slides her chair back, maneuvers Liza’s drink firmly into her own hand, and stands, smoothing down her top while taking a drink as though Liza had just handed it to her to sample from.
I glance at the floor, then at Vikki. Not a single drop made its way over.
“Holy shit,” Liza breathes out, saying exactly what I had been thinking. “You’re like a fucking ninja or some shit.”
Ray joins in, having witnessed her sharp reflexes, talking to Liza and I like the twins aren’t there, “She’s like Cat Woman or Black Widow.”
Liza nods her head in agreement, looking far too serious, and I can’t tell if she’s playing around or not anymore, “I agree, but is she bad or good?”
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