Sisters, Friends, and Lovers

I didn't know they were sisters when I started dating them.

I'm thirty-three years old and the girls are a few years younger, but birthdays are about six months apart. I met Fran at a friend's graduation party from an MBA and Sheila at a Sunday afternoon birthday party in Marblehead. They're half-sisters after all, but they've been together for so long that they don't even bother to use the word 'half-sister'.

Sheila is a tall, muscular blonde with a passionate side that I just know I want to be tapped into one day soon. Dating her feels like you're flirting with an exploding volcano. We'll start slowly, just a kiss or two, and then suddenly she's on her knees with me, putting her tongue in my throat and her hands doing interesting things for both of our bodies. .

Fran is a petite brunette who is determined to do everything she does perfectly, including making her boyfriend (me) happy. When we started kissing, I felt like she was searching and learning at the same time. Look for places and techniques that can bring both of us to the perfection she wants in our relationship, and learn and memorize those places and techniques so she can use them. use them later. She made me think so.

I have been open to both about non-exclusiveness. After a few meetings, I met with Sheila on Tuesday and Friday nights, and with Fran on Wednesday and Saturday evenings. Sunday, I seem to alternate between the two days. Although I didn't discuss it with each other, I made it clear to each of them that I used to date other people. For example, Sheila and I watched the movie Gravity one evening; The next night Fran wanted to see him too, however, I explained that I had just met him the day before with another "friend". I guess I wanted to emphasize the fact that I'm dating someone else; she didn't pursue the case and we ended up watching another movie.

I am a romantic at heart. We follow a healthy diet that includes candlelit dinners, flowers, carriage rides, occasional dancing in my small but exceptionally neat and tidy Cambridge apartment, and of course size We love discussions when we are in public, such as walking hand in hand along Boylston Street in Boston. on a warm summer evening. We learned from each other and I was very open. Come to think of it, I was looking for a long term relationship and marriage partner.

My relationship with Sheila parallels my relationship with Fran almost today. The first week after meeting at a party, I called and we agreed to go out for coffee a few days later, we had some meetings with you over coffee and lunch near your work. we and we agreed to something bigger a week later.

We've enjoyed a few simple kisses together, but nothing fancy other than obviously we're comfortable with each other.

The second week, we moved in for a kiss and I can tell we both felt a great resonance with each other. We realize that we have many interests in common, but we have a few that are independent of each other. At the end of the week, we smashed first base with a large amount of French kissing and near-constant physical contact, though I was willing to do without some of our clothes.

The third week, we went to the second base together. For those of you who aren't used to the analogy of baseball dating, that means we're starting to fondle in ways that stimulate certain sexual parts of our bodies, notably especially Sheila's breasts (and the next night, Fran) and my crotch, although it was all done outside of our clothes. Thin.

Week four, we get into each other's clothes and even find a part of our skin that is normally hidden from each other. I stripped Sheila's top around her neck so I could lick and suck her breasts, and she opened my butterfly wings so she could caress and tease my dick to her heart's content that. I ended up with blue balls that I had to deal with when I got home from our date.

Week five, Sheila really surprised me when she bumped into me, giving me an amateur game, but I can't complain. I played a gentleman and warned her of my impending climax, a move that would allow her to gracefully retire, as she ended the act with a masterful move. All of this was done on the sofa in my small apartment. When I offered to reciprocate, Sheila gave me a little hug and said, "Maybe next week. Let's not rush things." I accept this delay as the price to pay to be with this beautiful woman who is definitely material for a long time.

I've been in love with Fran and Sheila, but haven't spoken to each other yet. I think they feel the same way about me. Most guys will choose one or the other, but not only can't I, I don't want to because choosing one means I have to do without the other. Fran or Sheila. Sheila or Fran. When I'm with one, I worry about the other. I would like to be included in both. On week six, I coaxed Sheila (and Fran) to allow me oral sex. We went to the third establishment. I feel pretty good at cunnilingus techniques so once I got her permission I actually made love to her pussy, giving her over and over again. We were both naked and I had another one, this time all the way. My meeting with Fran took place in parallel. Sheila and I avoided using the word "L" together until then. During her fifth orgasm of the night, Sheila said, "Oh my God, Steve, I love what you do to me. I'm in love with you." Surprisingly, Fran said almost the same words in the same situation the next night.

The point is, I fell in love with Sheila, and at the same time I loved Fran. I began to feel conflicted, knowing I would soon have to decide between two women, one to focus on, and go out alone. Even at this point, however, neither Sheila nor Fran are proposing exclusivity.

As soon as that thought entered my brain, another side of me argued that I was too young, or indecisive, or afraid of making mistakes, or something, to choose between the two at the time. this. I kept hearing one of the voices over my shoulder telling me to keep pushing non-exclusively, and keep dating the two of them, and for that matter, any other woman that I may like. No downside of this philosophy has happened to me.

That demon on my shoulder will convince me that at my age I'm not ready to settle down or commit to anyone, and that I have plenty of time to finally find one. life partner, to find a family and to do "adult" things. Sheila and Fran both call themselves "babysitters" in my long-term plans, and one of them might actually end up Ms. if all goes well.

The gods are fickle and laugh at us mortals. I had a comfortable single life, dated two of the most beautiful women on the East Coast, had a great job that paid well and was enjoyable, and had a great group of friends. than what I'm enjoying. Hubris is a word from Greek tragedies involving excessive pride or defiance of the gods leading to inevitable downfall and humiliation.

Things got worse the following Saturday night.

I reluctantly gave up an entire evening of eating Fran's pussy (and hopefully coming home) to accept his invitation to drive to the suburbs and meet my family, mom, dad, and two sisters em. We hadn't talked much about the family up until then, except for general things. We focus on each other and talk about our studies, friends, and work. Oddly enough, I made the same commitment to dinner with Sheila the following Tuesday night.

I picked up Fran outside her apartment at six o'clock this Saturday evening and we embarked on our forty-minute journey to the town of Dillon to her family home. There's a problem that bothers me while I'm driving and it has something to do with Dillon. I recently met another person, who was from there, but in the heat of the evening, that information didn't come to my mind at all. I put my thoughts aside to focus on Fran's description of her father and mother, and how to be on their safe side.

My thoughts are everywhere as I drive and Fran also nibbles on my right ear and kisses me passionately at every "sure" opportunity along the way. We enjoyed a lot of tongue twisting on the ride, and she ran her fingernails along my thighs, leaving me with an erection that could cut through steel. As we approached her house, I stopped her because I knew I didn't want to "show off" when I met her parents.

I parked in front of a large house in the suburbs that advertised a well-to-do middle-class family. Fran and I stood by my car and kissed for a few minutes, before she insisted we go inside. She laughs but allows me to "cheat" until I am decent. She promised an "interesting night" if we could finish dinner and leave early to go back to my apartment. I love the sound that this master plate is in sight. Fran even promised to spend the night with me, which I asked him (and Sheila) to do but failed.

We climbed the front steps and entered through the front door; right inside the door, Fran shouted, "Hey guys, here we are. Hellllllloooooo."

From what was clearly the kitchen, Fran's mother, a beautiful blond woman who looked good, entered with her hand outstretched. “Steve, nice to meet you, and please call me Jean. This is my husband Dave. Dave smiled as he shook our hands. He was a tall, muscular man with salt and pepper hair. Fran's sister Allison joined the welcome team and she gave me a polite hug as well. We'll shake hands and say hello...

And then ...

... my blood cooled, and I froze in place, praying that a hole in the ground would open and swallow me with a fatal blow.