My Sister's Satin Dress
It was late on Friday. I had agreed to help my Mom and step-dad out with some simple landscaping, and wanted to get going early, so opted to stay the night. There wasn’t much to do, and my parents were away for the weekend, off to Montreal, for whatever reason, staying a night or two to experience the night-life. I was all alone watching TV in the living room, very much bored, flipping through an endless stream of mindless entertainment. Frankly, I was starting to lose my head, and definitely in the process of losing my mind. There was a sudden crash at the back door.
I turned my head, not very interested. My sister Stassi lived with my parents, and had just returned from a night on the town. I heard her stumble into the hallway. She was drunk. I heard Stassi loose her footing, bracing herself against the wall, laughing her charming laugh. The confusion was intriguing, I wondered what had happened. Stassi stepped into the living room and stood before me. She was wearing a sweater; her curls fell in chaos around her aquiline face. Stassi was flushed from drinking, and wore underneath her sweater a black satin dress. A black satin dress with floral patterns I had ejaculated in countless times, a dress that had caused a rift between us. It had obviously been cleaned, as it caught the light and glistened in silken beauty, and rippled as Stassi sat down on a chair and crossed her legs. Stassi looked at me.
“I’m drunk, Jim,” said Stassi as she raised her left hand to her face and gave a nauseous expression. I nodded and laughed, then said, “I know, Stassi. It’s pretty obvious. Where did you go tonight?” Stassi laughed and gently stoked her leg through her dress, “I went to Rachel’s party. It was fun,” she was sullen for a moment, paused and reflected, “You remember this dress right, Jim?” My heart sunk, and I averted my eyes in shame. All I could muster was a, “yes, I do, Stassi.” Stassi was triumphant and began unzipping her sweater. The act was unsettling, I felt manipulated but undeniably aroused. She finished taking her sweater off, tossing it on the ground. Underneath the sweater, the dress top was a bustier, with thin spaghetti straps leading up Stassi’s smooth, pale skin. The strands were tied in a flimsy bow around her neck. Stassi tossed her curls and smiled, admiring her chest. My arousal grew in bounds when I noticed Stassi’s nipples were firm.
“I love this dress, Jim. I can’t believe you masturbated into it, you jerk!” She laughed and stared at me. Her hands traced around her breasts, my penis stiffened. “I love you too, Jim.” Stassi got up from the chair and sat next to me on the couch. She wrapped her arms around me and hummed softly, laughing on occasion in a drunken stupor. I froze in a panic, the satin of her dress gently rubbing against the exposed skin of my arms, her breasts pressed firm against my chest. “You must think I’ve gone crazy!” said Stassi laughing into my neck, the smell of her body and hair mingled with the sound of her heavy breathing. My erection was intense, my paralysis stronger, and Stassi, pressed against me in the satin dress of my fantasy, began kissing my cheek slowly, timid, but with increasing passion.
“What are you doing?” I said, not resisting. Stassi unzipped my pants and reached into my boxers, she withdrew my penis and stroked it. I moaned while she pumped my penis and kissed my neck, her left arm curled around my head and turned it, we stared at one another. Stassi reached in and kissed my lips, her tongue probing my mouth, my left hand in reflex pulling Stassi close. We embraced and kissed passionately, her right hand stroking my penis the while and I finally, after years of fantasy, caressed and squeezed my sister’s breasts. Her nipples were firm under the thin satin of the dress, and Stassi moaned as I touched them. Suddenly she stopped, and pushed me away. I sat quizzical watching my sister as she pulled her hair up with her right hand, and with her left reached for the bow, pulling the string and letting the satin bodice of her dress fall, revealing two perfect C cups.
That was almost too much to bear, but I managed to collect myself enough to dive face first into Stassi’s breasts, cresting at the peaks, sucking on the areola and nipple, flicking with my tongue in complete ecstasy. Stassi ran her hands through my hair and I rubbed my hands up and down her body, feeling the satin of the dress, listening to her moan. My sister’s hand drifted to her crotch, and with the satin of the dress pressed against her pussy, masturbated while I lay on top of her. I noticed what she was doing and said, “You have a thing for satin too, Stassi?” Stassi nodded in pleasure as she sighed, her hand deep between her legs. I straddled Stassi as she lay on the couch, reached underneath her dress, and pulled off her panties. My sister’s eyes were closed as her fingers moved vigorously, pushing the satin of her dress deeper into her vagina. I carefully pulled Stassi’s hands from her vagina, she breathed deep and her chest heaved, her breasts beautiful against the satin. Pulling my pants and boxers off, I mounted Stassi.
“Are you going to fuck me? Do you want to cum on my dress?” said Stassi and grabbed my penis, pulling it to her dress. I let out an aroused cry involuntarily, and tore her hand from my penis. I parted Stassi’s legs, the satin of the dress collected in her crotch, the silhouette of her vagina outlined in the silk. Then, I pulled the dress high enough up to grant my penis entry, the satin fell back down around. Stassi watched intently as I brushed my rock-hard penis against the outside of her pussy, my penis sheathed in a floral satin. My sister’s head rolled back as I plunged my penis deep within her vagina, I grabbed her hips and felt the satin between my fingers, my sister crying with pleasure as I thrust. Before climax I pulled-out and pointed my penis at her dress, I gave it a few good pumps and erupted, ejaculating all over her satin dress and breasts. Stassi smiled and licked the semen off the dress.
“You should visit more often, Jim. You know, I still have that blue satin dress from semi.” My draw dropped as I listened and watched my sister stand-up from the couch, pull up her panties, and tie up the spaghetti straps. “Next time you’re here, I’ll wear that. You think I’m sexy in that dress, right?” All I could do was nod.
I turned my head, not very interested. My sister Stassi lived with my parents, and had just returned from a night on the town. I heard her stumble into the hallway. She was drunk. I heard Stassi loose her footing, bracing herself against the wall, laughing her charming laugh. The confusion was intriguing, I wondered what had happened. Stassi stepped into the living room and stood before me. She was wearing a sweater; her curls fell in chaos around her aquiline face. Stassi was flushed from drinking, and wore underneath her sweater a black satin dress. A black satin dress with floral patterns I had ejaculated in countless times, a dress that had caused a rift between us. It had obviously been cleaned, as it caught the light and glistened in silken beauty, and rippled as Stassi sat down on a chair and crossed her legs. Stassi looked at me.
“I’m drunk, Jim,” said Stassi as she raised her left hand to her face and gave a nauseous expression. I nodded and laughed, then said, “I know, Stassi. It’s pretty obvious. Where did you go tonight?” Stassi laughed and gently stoked her leg through her dress, “I went to Rachel’s party. It was fun,” she was sullen for a moment, paused and reflected, “You remember this dress right, Jim?” My heart sunk, and I averted my eyes in shame. All I could muster was a, “yes, I do, Stassi.” Stassi was triumphant and began unzipping her sweater. The act was unsettling, I felt manipulated but undeniably aroused. She finished taking her sweater off, tossing it on the ground. Underneath the sweater, the dress top was a bustier, with thin spaghetti straps leading up Stassi’s smooth, pale skin. The strands were tied in a flimsy bow around her neck. Stassi tossed her curls and smiled, admiring her chest. My arousal grew in bounds when I noticed Stassi’s nipples were firm.
“I love this dress, Jim. I can’t believe you masturbated into it, you jerk!” She laughed and stared at me. Her hands traced around her breasts, my penis stiffened. “I love you too, Jim.” Stassi got up from the chair and sat next to me on the couch. She wrapped her arms around me and hummed softly, laughing on occasion in a drunken stupor. I froze in a panic, the satin of her dress gently rubbing against the exposed skin of my arms, her breasts pressed firm against my chest. “You must think I’ve gone crazy!” said Stassi laughing into my neck, the smell of her body and hair mingled with the sound of her heavy breathing. My erection was intense, my paralysis stronger, and Stassi, pressed against me in the satin dress of my fantasy, began kissing my cheek slowly, timid, but with increasing passion.
“What are you doing?” I said, not resisting. Stassi unzipped my pants and reached into my boxers, she withdrew my penis and stroked it. I moaned while she pumped my penis and kissed my neck, her left arm curled around my head and turned it, we stared at one another. Stassi reached in and kissed my lips, her tongue probing my mouth, my left hand in reflex pulling Stassi close. We embraced and kissed passionately, her right hand stroking my penis the while and I finally, after years of fantasy, caressed and squeezed my sister’s breasts. Her nipples were firm under the thin satin of the dress, and Stassi moaned as I touched them. Suddenly she stopped, and pushed me away. I sat quizzical watching my sister as she pulled her hair up with her right hand, and with her left reached for the bow, pulling the string and letting the satin bodice of her dress fall, revealing two perfect C cups.
That was almost too much to bear, but I managed to collect myself enough to dive face first into Stassi’s breasts, cresting at the peaks, sucking on the areola and nipple, flicking with my tongue in complete ecstasy. Stassi ran her hands through my hair and I rubbed my hands up and down her body, feeling the satin of the dress, listening to her moan. My sister’s hand drifted to her crotch, and with the satin of the dress pressed against her pussy, masturbated while I lay on top of her. I noticed what she was doing and said, “You have a thing for satin too, Stassi?” Stassi nodded in pleasure as she sighed, her hand deep between her legs. I straddled Stassi as she lay on the couch, reached underneath her dress, and pulled off her panties. My sister’s eyes were closed as her fingers moved vigorously, pushing the satin of her dress deeper into her vagina. I carefully pulled Stassi’s hands from her vagina, she breathed deep and her chest heaved, her breasts beautiful against the satin. Pulling my pants and boxers off, I mounted Stassi.
“Are you going to fuck me? Do you want to cum on my dress?” said Stassi and grabbed my penis, pulling it to her dress. I let out an aroused cry involuntarily, and tore her hand from my penis. I parted Stassi’s legs, the satin of the dress collected in her crotch, the silhouette of her vagina outlined in the silk. Then, I pulled the dress high enough up to grant my penis entry, the satin fell back down around. Stassi watched intently as I brushed my rock-hard penis against the outside of her pussy, my penis sheathed in a floral satin. My sister’s head rolled back as I plunged my penis deep within her vagina, I grabbed her hips and felt the satin between my fingers, my sister crying with pleasure as I thrust. Before climax I pulled-out and pointed my penis at her dress, I gave it a few good pumps and erupted, ejaculating all over her satin dress and breasts. Stassi smiled and licked the semen off the dress.
“You should visit more often, Jim. You know, I still have that blue satin dress from semi.” My draw dropped as I listened and watched my sister stand-up from the couch, pull up her panties, and tie up the spaghetti straps. “Next time you’re here, I’ll wear that. You think I’m sexy in that dress, right?” All I could do was nod.
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