Amy returns from the kitchen, wiping her face off with a towel. It looks like she has just washed her face of the tears. She smiles at you sadly.
"OK, , you tell me why men are assholes." She looks at you with a serious expression on her face, mouth set firmly.
Uhm, I'm going to need a little background here," you reply, trying to look casual. Her sweater is extremely tight, and despite her being your sister, you can't help but notice the nice way her breasts fill it out.
"Fine," she mutters, moving to the couch and sitting down. "Have a seat." She gestures towards the other side of the couch. She leans against the arm, and takes a deep breath, which just helps to exaggerate her femininity.
You lower yourself onto the couch with a casual motion. Stretching your feet out in front of you you lean back, your arms stretching along each side. "Shoot."
She draws her knees up to her chest and pouts. "Why is it that men are never satisfied with a blow-job?"
You jolt upright, a little concerned at her comment. She's had plenty of boyfreinds, what's she getting at?
"I mean," she says, continuing, "Why do they always want to fuck me? I've explained it over and over again, that I'm saving myself, but they never listen."
This throws you for a total loop. Your plan of asking your sister for Orgasm critique goes completely out the window. You groan inwardly, realizing that it probably would have been a better idea to ask your secretary for that particular piece of advice.
"I think sis, that if we're going to be discussing your sex life we'd better break open that bottle of champagne." The heck with it, you think to yourself, since I've already blown this night I may as well enjoy myself.
"What, you need to be drunk to talk about sex?" Amy looks at you with a quizzical look.
"No, I need to be drunk to talk to YOU about sex." you chuckle softly. The comment draws a laugh from Amy, who stands up, and crosses to the kitchen.
You laugh, stretching out along the couch. Perhaps spending the evening with your celibate sister will actually be fun. After several minutes, Amy returns holding two plastic cups in one hand, and the opened champagne bottle in the other.
"Sorry, I kinda don't have flutes," She apologizes, pouring the bubbling wine into each cup.
"That's all right, young and broke," You respond, taking a deep sip of the sparkling concoction. Amy smiles in response, and drinks from her glass as well, before noticing that you have almost completely taken up the entire couch.
"Awww, I'm tellin MOOOOOOOOOM." she whines in a voice you recall from your childhood. "Let me have some!"
You reply by sticking your tounge out at her, and she giggles in response. Suddenly, with an impish giggle, she leaps onto you, nearly knocking the cup from your hand. She squirms around, until her head lies on your chest, and the rest of her body lies along the couch, resting on your legs. She hugs you close, before taking a nice long drink of the cup she holds.
"Ok, ready to talk now?" she says, snuggled up against you. |