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“I don’t know what my sister sees in you,” she laughs at me, mocking and cruel, “But you’ve always been — and always will be — a gigantic fucking loser, Squeegee.” She’s called me since middle college.

“That doesn’t matter, Leann,” I say her name deliberately, enunciating both syllables hard, “Doesn’t change the fact that Tracy and I are getting married. And she asked you and me to get over the past. Are you even going to try?” It’s been over a decade since middle college.

She narrows her gaze. “Fuck you.” Then she turns and opens the fridge, bending over to reach inside giving me a face-full of her big, round, yoga pants-clad ass. The fabric’s laced with something glittery, and her pants sparkle as they stretch around her butt, wrinkling over the mound of pussy between her legs.

I grit my teeth and stare, ashamed of finding this bitch attractive. Why does she have to be so hot? “Is that all you got? A simple ‘fuck you’ and you’re done talking to me?”

She sets a jug of lemonade down on the counter. “As soon as I figure out how you conned my sister into this, you can kiss your ass goodbye.”

I chuckle. “Oh, that I can tell you. It’s simple. She’s addicted to my long, thick cock. There’s nothing she loves more than draining my balls on her–”

“You’re a disgusting pervert, Squeegee.” She frowns, grabbing a glass from the cabinet behind her. “You’ve got a micropenis and shriveled up little balls, I know it. What’s it like, being unable to please a woman?” As she reaches up, she slaps her ass, swings her hips to side.

The issue with Leann is that she’s cute in the same way as her sister. Tracy’s sexy as fuck, a spunky, petite little blonde. And Leann, she’s like her, except redhead and curvier — slender, but with the big tits and round ass that Tracy doesn’t have.

“You haven’t moved on since high school, have you?” I say, “Still using the same old insults, the same old taunts. We’re twenty-four, Leann, ‘what’s it like with a micropenis?’ Listen to yourself. You’re like a child.”

Her face screws up into something distraught, like I’ve actually scored a point.

Well, I should strike while she’s weak. “What’s it like being unable to keep a guy, Leann? What happened to Pete? Love of your life, right? Now he’s got a kid with Chloe, doesn’t he? Is she still your best friend, or did that end, too?”

Leann gets furious. Beet red, glaring at me with hatred in her eyes. “Fuck you, Mike,” she growls, forgetting to call me that stupid nickname, “You’re a fucking asshole.” She launches her lemonade at me, and she’s a good aim.

I should be thankful it was just the liquid and not the glass itself. But I jump up from the table and get in her face, real close, “What the fuck is wrong with you?” The lemonade drips from me, all over.

She leans away from me, eyes widening a touch but still full of spite. “Are you going to hit me?”

“You’re a bitch, Leann,” I say, “But no, I’m not going to hit you.”

She slaps me in the face. “Don’t call me a bitch, Squeegee.”

I grab her wrist and lean into her. I’ve never been so close to Leann before, never before have I physically touched her. “Clean up,” I say, “The mess.”

Her face is inches from mine. I can see the defiance in her eyes. Defiance, but also nervousness. “Make me,” she says.

“You best do what I say.”

“Or what,” she laughs, breath hot against my cheeks, “It’s not like you’ve got the balls to do anything.”

For a moment I say nothing. She thinks she’s won, and she starts to turn her chin up, but that just won’t do. “If you behave like a child,” I say, “Then you’ll get disciplined like a child.” With my grip on her wrist, I pull her to the table, bending her over the top.

She gasps, her red hair splaying out across the surface as she turns her head to look at me. I twist her arms up to hold her down, my other hand finding her thick, round ass. “You don’t even know what the fuck you’re doing, Squeegee,” she says, “You’re out of your depth.”

I spank her, hard.

She yelps.

I do it again.

“What the fuck, Squeegee?” she gasps, my hand landing again and again on her butt. “That stings!”

I lean over to growl in her ear, “My name is Mike.” I spank her again.

“Let me up!”

“What’s my name?” I spank her.

“Go to hell!”

My hand comes down to her ass again.

She glares at me. “Fine, Mike, if it means that much to you.”

I let her up. “Now, clean up this fucking lemonade.” She fumes, refusing to move, sullen and belligerent. Yet I see the cracks, the telltale signs of her will withering. And as I stare her down, her resistance crumbles, bit by bit.

She looks away, her face reddening as she shakes her head. “Whatever.” She trudges to the sink and gets a rag ready, then back to the mess. She gets down on all fours and starts wiping, muttering to herself, “Wouldn’t have fucking thrown it, if you weren’t such an asshole.”

But I don’t care what she says. I leer at her, watching her ass swing as she works. Those pants, so deliciously tight. They cling to her every curve, show off the amazing bubble of her butt, the soft swell of her mound.

“You enjoying the view?” she says. She grumbles under her breath, “Fucking creep.”

“Take off your jacket.”

“Why?”

“Because I said.”

I see her hesitate, her defiance rearing. I refuse to flinch, though, refuse to let her win. And then it happens. She tucks her chin and shakes her head again, sitting up on her knees and unzipping. I take the jacket from her, licking my lips at her thin white sportsbra wrapped tight around her tits, the little bumps of nipples poking through the fabric. “Nice.”

She complains to herself, knowing she’s been beat, as she returns to cleaning.

I grin and rub it in. “Make sure you get it all. Tracy’s not going to be happy if she comes home and finds her kitchen floor all sticky.” This is fun to watch, Leann doing what I tell her, taking off her clothes when I tell her.

She mutters something low, too quiet for me to hear.

My grin spreads. “What was that?”

“I said,” she starts, turning her head towards me, “Why don’t–oh my god, Mike, what the fuck are you doing? Why are you naked?” Her gaze slides right to my crotch.

I’m not naked, I’ve still got my briefs on. But it’s true, I’ve taken off the rest of my clothes and am watching her with a gloating smile, bulge on full display. “See something you like?” My thick, circumcised penis is half-erect and pressing out against the red mesh material of my underwear, its shape unmistakable.

She stares as it, her breathing coming faster. “I can’t believe what a creep you are, Squeegee.” She shifts her legs, grinding her thighs together.

“You got lemonade all over me, all over my clothes,” I explain, “After you’re done in here, you’re going to clean my laundry.”

She says nothing, doesn’t even appear to have heard me. Her attention is on my crotch, on the fat shaft hinted at through my tight briefs. She licks her lips, says, voice dreamy and distant, “Huh?”

I’ve been sitting on a dining table chair. But as I slide off the chair and kneel behind Leann, she snaps out of her reverie. “What the fuck are you doing, Squeegee?”

“I’m taking your pants off,” I say, “You’re going to wash them, too.” My fingers are hooked around the hem of her black yoga pants, pulling them down from her high, narrow waist, stretching them around her hips.

“You’re such a creep,” she says. But it’s a whisper — an excited whisper — spoken between rapid breaths.

Black panties come into view first, wrapped to her hips in a thick band. Her pants continue their journey, and my cock throbs at the glory of her underwear extending down, a wide black band narrowing between two perfect, soft, round ass cheeks. I only get her pants down to mid-thigh before I abandon them, bringing my hands up to grope and squeeze that magnificent butt.

“So sexy,” I murmur, my fingers digging into her, learning everything there is to know about her ass. My cock yearns for her, now fully stiff, frighteningly erect, stretching my briefs out to their limit.

Leann arches her back, spreads her knees. “You don’t have the balls, Squeegee.”

“The balls to what?” I rub my nuts on her ass through the fabric.

“To fuck me, you fucking loser.”

“Is that what you think?” I slide my bulging dick out through the flap in my briefs, slap it against her cheeks. Precum smears on her pale skin. “You’re going to ride my dick, Leann. You’re going to feel my balls drain inside you today, and whenever else I want. I’m going to marry your sister, but I’m going to get both of you.”

I pull her panties down, leave them around her thighs. She starts to say something, but I cut her off. “It’s time you learned I’m not that sad, pathetic little Squeegee you used to make fun of. You think your sister would fall in love with someone like that? Of course not. But you, Leann, you’re jealous of the bull I’ve become, jealous that you’ll never be anything but a side piece.” I’m rubbing my dick against her pussy lips, feeling their heat, their powerful arousal. She’s dripping wet, slicking up my cock before I’ve even put it in her.

She whimpers, her back arched, chest heaving. I wrap an arm around her torso, pull her up to me. My fingers slide under her bra, pinch her nipples. Her hair brushes my face, my lips brush her ear. I lick her lobe, feel her melt into my arms.

I slide my cock into her, inch after inch, giving her my full shaft. She yelps and shudders.

“Mike!” she moans, tone pleading.

She’s tight, so tight. But more than that, knowing its Leann, hearing my name — my real name — come from her lips as I fuck her, that’s so massively thrilling. “What?” I say.

“You’re so hard!”

I grin.

That night, after Tracy came back home and we had dinner, she offered to open a bottle of wine for dessert, but Leann refused, saying she had to get home. That wasn’t like her, and Tracy gave me an accusative look, but I just shrugged.

“What was going on with my sister tonight?” Tracy says. She rubs her fist up and down the length of my glistening, hard shaft. “Did you two do what I asked? Get over whatever drama there was between you?” She drops her head down, sucks on my balls.

I groan in pleasure, laying back on our bed, rubbing my hand through Tracy’s hair. “We did, yeah,” I say, “She won’t be a problem any more.”

“What did you do?” Tracy giggles, “Kiss and make up?” She slides her tongue up the length of my cock, flicking it around the tip.

The memory flashes — Leann’s tit filling my palm, her waist inside my grip, her pussy pumping the cum from me as my cock exploded inside her — all just a few short hours ago. “Something like that,” I chuckle.

Tracy pulls my cock from her mouth. “Well, whatever you two had to do, I’m thankful. I’d hate for my marriage to drive a wedge between my sister and me.”

“How thankful?” I grin.

She grins back. “Oh, pretty thankful.” She cups my balls with her tongue, then slides it up my shaft. With a naughty smirk, she takes my dick in her mouth, her lips stretching wide around my girth. She slides them lower and lower, pausing only briefly when she shoves my shaft down her throat. She takes me impossibly far in, only stopping when her lips are around my base.

She’s so gorgeous, the sensation so wonderful. I groan in bliss, cumming.

NSFW: yes

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