Chapter 11

I sat down next to Jules, bumping my knee against hers while she scrolled through the shopping tabs all excited, tossing lights, cameras, and even some cheesy motel-themed backdrops into the cart. I stayed right there beside her, helping decide what was worth it or not—half getting into the vibe, half just wanting to feel her presence.

This whole crazy idea had at least one upside: we were doing something together. It had been ages since that happened. Ever since we grew up, we’d each been on our own wavelength. Now, at least, we were sharing a wild plan—and a vibrator in the same drawer.

“Sister…”

“What now?” she replied without taking her eyes off the screen.

“So… you’re bi, right? Sucking a woman is no big deal for you.”

She let out a short laugh.

“Bi nothing. I’m a party dyke. With enough booze, I’d suck off a bum,” she said, laughing.

“Same difference,” I muttered, laughing nervously. “It’s just… I was thinking… if something happens, like one of those shows with two girls… could you be the active one? And I could be… passive?”

She froze. Stopped clicking, talking, breathing. Turned her face real slow and stared at me with that look I knew so well: the one ready to bust out teasing.

“Oh my God, Justine. You’re really thinking deep about this. I haven’t gone that far yet!”

She snapped the laptop shut with a dramatic flair and spun around all theatrical, with that face like she was gonna roast me till 2060.

“Confess. Come on. Spill it.”

“Confess what?” I asked, shrinking back.

She flashed a sly smile, just from one side, the kind that came loaded with teasing.

“You’ve been thinking about us hooking up, right?”

I sighed, nowhere to run.

“Of course, Jules. How could I not think about it?”

She stared at me in silence for a few seconds, with that look that seemed to weigh my intentions.

“You believe I remembered this afternoon and got turned on?”

She said it like she was talking about remembering to buy bread. The most casual thing in the world.

“Seriously? God… this is so wrong. Oh my God…”

But even saying that, I felt the heat rising inside me. The memory, so fresh, so real… her mouth, her tongue, that muffled moan… I wanted to pretend it didn’t get to me, but it did. And hard.

“And you can’t freeze up on the live, Justy. The viewers pick up on everything. If you freeze, the magic’s gone. Come here… let’s practice. Kiss some more, just to stay relaxed when it happens. Sound good?”

The way she said “just to stay relaxed” almost made me laugh. We both knew it was bullshit. A lame excuse we made up to justify what, deep down, we really wanted to do. It had already happened. And the truth was, we’d liked it. Liked it way too much. But the pleasure always came with that nagging guilt, a preachy voice in my head saying “this is wrong,” “this can’t happen.” But the craving… the craving was way stronger than any rule.

“Okay… let’s start topless, just in panties. Then we make some faces, some mouth stuff, run hands over our tits and boom. Cool?” she said, like it was the simplest thing in the world to hand me that script.

I nodded in silence. Slipped off my top slow and sat on the couch facing her, heart pounding. Being topless there, so close to Jules, made me nervous in a way I pretended not to feel. She scooted over to my side and glanced around, like she was hunting for something, with that sparkle in her eye that always came before an idea.

“You know what I’m thinking? We could record ourselves…”

“Like what? Why?”

“Not to sell or anything. It’s just that I was watching some videos and noticed how they capture everything, you know? Like, the right angle, good lighting, the viewer really sees what’s going down. Makes it… hotter.”

“Jules… I’m dying of shame like this, imagine with the camera on…” my voice came out shaky, but the truth was, just her suggesting it had my whole body responding. I felt it trickle. Hot, wet. But no way in hell would I say that out loud. “Okay… turn it on then.”

She jumped up quick, all pumped, and flipped on the ring light. The bright light filled the room with that soft white glow. She set the phone on the tripod, right in front of us. When the front camera kicked on, I saw it.

Us two, side by side, just in panties. Naked just enough. Almost identical, reflected on the screen like two versions of the same fantasy. The silence between us was thick. I felt my skin prickle. She took a deep breath, like she was gearing up to dive in.

And all I could think was: this camera’s gonna catch everything… including what I don’t even wanna admit I’m feeling right now.

It was always her who started. Jules had the touch. She gave the orders like it was all choreographed in her head: we’d start by eyeing each other all naughty, giggling low, hand on tit, then slide hands to each other’s ass, kiss the neck… and pause to think about the next shot. Yeah, now there were shots. And me there, trying to hold back the horniness for my own sister while thinking about framing, poses, angles.

It started.

She hit record and came over to me with that smirky half-grin, cocky, playful. I tried to smile back, but mine was nervous. My hand was sweating. My body was screaming for it, and my nipples were already hard, out there, giving it all away. I tried to get into the mood, hit the right tease, the light touch… but my nerves blew up before I could control it and I pressed against her, pulling her into a kiss full of tongue, passion, and hunger.

Her eyes went wide and she laughed right in the middle of the kiss.

“Slow down, you incestuous horndog.”

“Stop saying that, fuck,” I grumbled, pissed. It hit me hard. It wasn’t a lie, but I hated hearing it out loud.

Her hands slid over my body with this weird care, almost technical. Like the touch was pro. Like she was just there to do what needed doing and that’s it. But me… I was melting bit by bit. Every brush of hers sank me deeper into this forbidden want.

I tried to hide it, pretended it was a game, just acting, but I couldn’t help it. I played with her hair tenderly, tucked the strands behind her ear all gentle and silly, and every now and then glanced at the phone screen to see how we looked on video.

“Don’t stare at the camera,” she murmured, yanking me close. “Come here.”

And she kissed me.

This time it was slow. Wet. Deep. Our lips fit without rushing, exploring, getting familiar, testing. Our tits brushed right at the start, first a soft bump, then a move we started repeating on purpose, chasing that friction.

She shifted in my lap, and I in hers, nipples scraping, skin on skin, the heat building, our bodies dancing to a rhythm that was just ours. Every kiss confirmed we wanted more, needed more. Our hands slipped down natural, like planned, and suddenly we were grabbing each other’s asses firm, squeezing, pulling, feeling how wet we were, turned on, lost in the game that hadn’t been just a game for a while.

Her mouth started trailing down, slow, dragging heat over my neck. Every sigh from her breath made me shiver all over. And then she reached my tits.

She paused there.

Held both with open hands, big, like she was worshiping them. Her thumbs grazed my hard nipples light, sending a shiver from my spine straight to between my thighs. Without thinking, I leaned back, hands on the couch, thrusting my tits out, pointing up, almost offering them.

She smiled, that smile mixing sweet with dirty, and lowered her head slow.

First it was just her tongue, hot, soft, sliding lazy around one nipple. Then the tip drawing slow circles, teasing, like she wanted to see how long I could hold out without begging. I moaned soft, and she knew. She took my tit in her mouth hungry, sucking deep, making the skin buzz. She pulled like she wanted to mark me, like each suck was a warning that this was real.

Her hands didn’t stop, one squeezed the other tit, switching the attention, gripping firm then stroking light with her fingers. She nipped gentle, licked slow, then sucked again, hard, leaving the nipple swollen, sensitive, totally hers. I trembled inside, feeling my whole body light up.

My hips bucked on their own, seeking friction, some way to ease that throbbing heat starting in my chest and shooting straight to my pussy. I was totally surrendered, letting her play, explore, suck however she wanted.

My hand slipped off her body and went straight to my panties, like it had a mind of its own. I started rubbing over the fabric, feeling the pulsing heat, trying to soothe that sweet, filthy ache already taking me over. It was a quick touch, desperate, almost innocent in how instinctive it was. Like my body was crying for help and I answered without thinking.

The pleasure hit like a wave, hot, strong, pulling everything under. My breath caught, my head fell back, and my eyes shut like the whole world could vanish in that moment. And then it escaped—a loud moan, almost a sharp cry, so raw it scared me of myself.

She caught it right away. Her mouth still on my tits, but her eyes lifted and locked on mine with this weird seriousness. Her hand came down no hesitation, firm, and shoved my hands away from my pussy hard, like she was forbidding it. She looked me dead in the eyes in a way that deflated me inside.

My face turned sad, regret maybe, or just that raw shame of getting caught too deep in my own desire. But before I could react, she slapped her hand right where mine had been, straight over my soaked panties, and her touch shot through me like lightning.

My whole body shook. My legs spread wider, on instinct, like begging for it.

“Fuck… don’t do that, please,” I let out in a whisper, choked, almost pleading, but we both knew it was a lie.

She grinned, that dirty little half-smile, like she was getting off on my desperation. But unlike me, Jules still had some control. Her eyes were calm, focused, like she was directing a scene.

“Come on, Justy… you too.”

“Me too what?” I asked, lost, breath short, body still buzzing from her touch. I couldn’t think straight.

“Put your hand on my pussy, fuck,” she said firm, like it was obvious.

“I don’t want to…” I murmured, voice thin, shaky, weak. And it was true and a lie at the same time. I wanted to because my body demanded it. Didn’t want to because my head was screaming.

She didn’t argue. Just grabbed my hand and guided it right between her legs.

Her panties were hot. Hot and wet.

And when I felt that… my resistance started to melt.