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My Sister’s Boyfriend Feels Like A Dream
To be fair, I saw him first, slept with him first, and left him for a month-long holiday.

By the time I returned home from my holiday, my ex-boyfriend opened my sister’s door as if he owned the place, and begged me not to tell her about us.
There was no us.
Except, the chemistry was still there. Each time he looked at her with love, I remembered how he had looked at me with lust.
Each time he held her hand, I remembered how he had bound mine.
Everyone described them as a lovely couple. We had been anything but lovely.
I was patient. He became bored.
I waited.
He circled me as if I was his prey.
I kept my distance.
He tried to keep me close, extending their date night invitations to me and inviting me to bring a friend.
My sister was in love with a man who didn’t love her.
I would be doing her a favour.

He knew I’d be home alone. I knew he’d knock on my door.
He knew if I invited him inside, it wouldn’t be for coffee.
I knew if we fucked, there’d be no going back.
His kisses were vicious and unrelenting. His mouth devoured mine while I struggled for breath. Hands ripped at clothes until there was nothing but skin.
I barely remembered to close and lock the front door before he literally tossed me over his shoulder and strode through to my bedroom. He still knew the way.
He still knew the way to everything that mattered.
His tongue lashed at my cunt until I came, squeezing around it.
When his cock replaced his tongue, I felt all the planets collide.
He pinned my wrists and pounded my body until I had to beg for forgiveness for leaving him.
He turned me over and slapped my cheeks until they burned for denying him my ass the first time.
He teased my ass with his cock before jamming his thumb inside at the same time his cock reclaimed my cunt.
He fucked me hard. He fucked me with the fury of a man who’d been denied.
His phone rang and he ignored my sister. My phone rang and I had nothing to say.
He turned me over, again, threw my legs over his shoulders and took me slowly and deeply. I saw the depths of desire in his eyes and wanted to drown in them. I felt his frustration of having to fuck the wrong sister for all these months, and wanted to erase every trace of her from his skin.
He owned my body.
By the time he was finished with me, I was putty in his hands and could cum on command.
I didn’t know how we would make it work, or if my family would ever forgive me. I didn’t care.
And after we ran out of hot water in the shower, and I’d massaged his body with lotions until his cock rose to the occasion one last time, I thought this would be forever.
“You should know,” he said, reaching for his clothes. “I’m going to ask her to marry me.”
Lost in my post-climax coma, his words did not compute. Not even when he pressed a kiss to my swollen pussy and added, “Stay wet for me. I’ll be back for more.”