She considered this for a few seconds, sniffed, and smiled. “I know it’s probably fucked up to say this, but thank you. It’s not easy to be honest about stuff like that. I know, just now, you were. I kind of need the truth these days.”
“Least I could do,” I said, and then, “Ann?”
“Yeah?”
“This—what I just said—it doesn’t change things right? We’re cool? Me and Jen are cool? You and Jen are cool?”
“Yeah, it’s all cool.”
“Thanks.”
It’d be just fine if that’s how things ended that morning, if I had gotten up and let Ann finish eating in peace. But, that’s not how it went.
Ann, after eating a bit more, looked up at me and said, “I want to tell you something true, too.”
So, now I relay Ann’s story.
* * *
Four years before, Ann and Jen had just moved into the apartment together. Jen was in the very early stages of dating me. Ann had not yet met Kenny. The girls were drinking together on the big fuzzy carpet in their living room, talking about life, family, work, boys, everything. Ann decided to tell Jen the truth about her body jealousy. Jen was stunned, but ultimately sympathetic.
Ann gestured at Jen's chest, “I mean, look at them, Jen!”
Jen looked down at her breasts. “They can be a pain in the ass.”
“Pain in the ass? Look at these.” Ann pulled off her shirt, removed her bra, and sat on her knees.
“What? Ann!”
“Look!”
“So, they’re small.”
“Feel them,” Ann said with a hint of amusement,
Jen giggled and reached over. “They’re firm, at least.”
Ann looked across. “Let me see yours. I never saw them when we were younger.”
Jen stripped off her shirt and unhooked her bra. She got on her knees and shuffled closer to Ann.
“Jen, they’re amazing!”
“They’re too big.”
“Can I feel them?”
Jen nodded, let her arms down, and turned her head slightly. Ann reached across and felt one, then both. She held them; she caressed them, she squeezed them.
“They’re perfect, Jen. I so hate you for these.”
Jen reached across and felt Ann’s again, touching them in the same way as Ann had touched hers. “There’s advantages to ones like this. Yours will still be firm and have this nice shape when mine are dangling around my knees.”
The girls laughed. Ann kept fondling Jen’s, and she said, “Why didn’t I get these, too?”
Jen’s breathing started getting rhythmic. “And these nipples.” Ann pulled at one, and then both.
“Ann…”
“Feel my nipples, Jen. You can’t even pinch them.” Jen reached back across and rubbed and curled her fingers around Ann’s nipples.
“I like them, Ann. They’re…”
“I’m going to kiss one.”
Jen let go of Ann’s nipple, drew in a breath, and held it. Ann leaned across and lightly kissed the inside of Jen’s fat breast. She kissed the other one, and then kissed the nipple. She said, “Men get to have this with you, Jen.”
Jen released her breath with a soft hum sound. Ann continued kissing all over the soft
flesh.
“Men get to suck them,” she whispered. And then, Ann took one of Jen’s nipples fully into her mouth. Ann swirled her tongue around it, and then let it slip out from her lips. Ann pulled back, a bit shyly looking down at the rug.
Jen said, “Men can do that with you, too. It will just be different, but they’ll like it.” And then Jen leaned across and licked Ann’s breast and nipple. Jen kissed the nipple and sucked on it. She let it go with a lick and sat back.
Ann took one of Jen’s breasts in her hand and sucked the nipple again. She looked into Jen’s eyes and asked, “Can you suck your own?”
Jen nodded.
“I want to see,” Ann whispered.
Ann lifted one of Jen's breasts up. Jen took the heavy tit from her. She pursed her lips, pushed the nipple between them, and drew it into her mouth.
Ann watched, mesmerized. "That's what men get to have with you, Jen."
Then Ann leaned across and took the other breast between her lips. Jen groaned into one breast as Ann made out with the other one. Ann’s hands rubbed Jen’s back and shoulders, tummy and thighs. Jen moaned through deeper and deeper breaths. She was no longer sucking on it for some demonstration; it aroused her. She licked circles around the nipple, and she opened wide and took as much of it in her mouth as she could fit. The soft flesh rose and fell in and out of her mouth as she drew in and released, again and again.
Ann pulled away and murmured, “Keep doing it.” While Jen pleasured her breast, Ann rose up and slipped her pants down to her knees on the floor. Ann leaned forward on her hands, stopping with her mouth a mere inch away from Jen’s other tit. She slowly pushed her tongue against the bottom of the areola, and even more gently drew it up and over the nipple until the nipple flicked back. Then, with the same deliberate and languorous tempo, Ann continued to lick.
The sensation of having one nipple fervently sucked and the other one slowly lapped brought Jen to a new level, and she gulped and gasped intermittently. Ann, meanwhile, took one hand off the floor and slid it back into her own panties. Her fingers curled and caressed the slit underneath, and she moaned into Jen’s nipple.
Jen lowered her tit from her mouth and a string of saliva stretched and burst. She looked down at Ann and whispered, “Wait. Stop for a second.”
Ann stuck her tongue out as far and flat as she could, and then drug it across Jen’s breast and nipple one last time before pausing.
Jen stood up on her knees and pulled her skirt and panties down, and then she lowered her hand to her pussy and slipped a finger inside. While Ann watched this, her own fingers began working more excitedly inside her panties. Jen sat back on her knees and pulled Ann’s head toward the breast. Ann resumed the sensual licking. Then, Jen took the other breast in hand, drew it up to her mouth and began licking it as Ann had done, with aching slowness.
Jen and Ann came together a few minutes later. It was an experience Ann had never spoken about to anyone, and she couldn’t imagine it being any different for Jen. It was their secret.
And when I asked Ann if it had ever happened again, Ann answered, “No, I think we were both afraid of taking it any further, you know, as sisters.”
And I asked if Ann thought either her or Jen regretted it. To this, Ann replied, “We never really talked about it afterwards. But, I don’t regret it. It was amazing."
Author's Note: I acknowledge the point of view trouble with having Ann's story told by our narrator. He's using descriptive language as if it were Ann's private, erotic remembrance. It's not his voice; he doesn't talk that way.
But, Ann would never have told the narrator this particular story, in the setting they were in, and for the reasons she was telling it in such a deliberately sensual way. She would have been broader and more factual.
My dilemma: how to keep it interesting? I tried some different things, but they all seemed contrived or overly complex. I kept it simple, perhaps too much so; I hope the reader can forgive.
-FS
