My Stepsister Moved Into the Guest Room at Thirty novel · Chapter 3 of 24

Chapter 3: The Guest Bed

Robin goes to the guest room and uses her mouth on Flora for the first time; her mother calls and tells her to bring her sister to Thanksgiving.

On Wednesday night I stood outside the guest room door for ten minutes.

I know because I watched the clock on the microwave through the kitchen doorway.

Flora had gone to bed at ten.

A line of light showed under her door, and I could hear her laptop keys clicking.

I had showered twice since Tuesday morning, and I could still feel her hand on me.

I knocked once and opened the door before I could change my mind.

Flora was sitting up in the double bed with a laptop on her knees and her hair in a messy knot.

She wore the same gray T-shirt.

The blanket was bunched at her waist, and one bare leg stuck out from under it.

She looked at me over the screen, and she did not look surprised.

"Hi."

"You said that was one," I said.

"I did."

"I'd like to do something about the count."

Flora closed the laptop slowly.

She set it on the nightstand and leaned back against the headboard.

"Come here, then."

"I'm not good at this."

"Robin, you came on my fingers in under four minutes."

My face went hot.

I crossed the room and stood at the foot of the bed with my hands at my sides.

"I want to do it for you," I said. "I want to taste you."

Flora let out a long, unsteady breath.

"Well," she said. "Okay."

She pushed the blanket down.

She wore the black cotton underwear again, and the T-shirt rucked up over her stomach.

Her thighs were pale and thick and freckled to the hip.

I knelt on the mattress between her feet.

My hands shook slightly, which annoyed me, because I do not shake in a code.

Flora noticed.

"Slow," she said. "I'm not going anywhere."

I slid my hands up the outside of her thighs.

Her skin was warm and silky and goose-pimpled where I touched it.

I kissed the inside of one knee, then higher, and then higher.

She smelled like soap and underneath it something sweeter and heavier that went straight to my head.

"Take them off," Flora said.

I hooked my fingers in the waistband and pulled the underwear down her legs.

She lifted her hips to help me.

I dropped them on the floor.

Flora was bare, soft, a small neat patch of strawberry-blond curls, and her pussy was already wet and glistening.

"Look at that," I whispered.

"I've been wet since Tuesday," she said. "Robin, please."

I put my mouth on her.

She tasted warm and salty-sweet, and I groaned against her without meaning to.

Flora's hips jerked off the bed.

"Oh. God. Yes."

I licked her slowly from the bottom to the top, one long stroke, and circled my tongue around her clit.

Her hand landed in my hair and clenched.

"Again."

I did it again.

I am a careful person, and I paid attention.

I watched what made her thigh tighten and what made her breath catch.

When I flicked my tongue lightly across the top of her clit, she cried out.

When I closed my lips around it and sucked, her whole body bowed.

"There," Flora gasped. "Right there. Don't stop."

I did not stop.

I held her hips down with both hands and ate her with long, wet, patient strokes.

Every sound she made told me what to do next.

She was swollen under my tongue and dripping, and I drank her.

"You're so good at this," Flora panted. "How are you so good at this?"

I came up for air, my chin wet.

"I pay attention."

"You pay attention," she laughed, and it broke into a moan. "Oh my God. Go back."

I went back.

I slid my tongue lower and pushed it inside her, and she shouted and pulled my hair.

Her pussy clenched around me, hot and slick, and I fucked her with my tongue while my thumb found her clit.

She babbled.

"Sister. Robin. Oh, fuck, Robin, your mouth."

Every time she said sister I felt it between my own legs.

I was aching, soaked through my sleep shorts, and I did not care.

I wanted nothing but to make this woman come.

"Add your fingers," Flora said. "Please, I need you in me."

I slid two fingers into her wet heat, curled them up, and sucked her clit hard.

Her back arched off the pillows.

"I'm coming. I'm coming. Don't stop."

Her thighs clamped around my head.

She came with a sob, and her pussy fluttered and gripped my fingers over and over while I worked her through it with my tongue.

I felt every pulse, and I kept going until she shoved weakly at my shoulder.

"Too much. Too good. Stop."

I lifted my face and wiped my mouth on the back of my hand.

Flora lay flat, flushed to the collarbone, chest heaving, her eyes closed.

"Come up here," she mumbled.

I crawled up beside her.

She pulled me against her and kissed me, hard and open, tasting herself on my tongue, and she hummed with satisfaction.

"You get a gold star."

"I didn't do it for a star."

"Why did you do it?"

I hesitated.

Her hand stroked slowly up and down my back.

"The first night," I said. "After you went into this room, I stood in the hallway for a long time."

"I know. I heard you."

"I came back at two in the morning and stood at your door."

"Robin."

"You were asleep with the light on, and the blanket was on the floor. I put it back over you."

Flora opened her eyes.

"You covered me up?"

"I stood there for ten minutes afterward," I said. "I watched you sleep."

She was quiet for a moment.

Then she pressed her forehead against mine.

"That's the nicest creepy thing anyone's ever done for me."

I laughed, and the laugh turned into a shiver.

Flora felt it and slid her leg between mine.

"Hang on," she said. "You're still dressed, and you didn't get your turn."

"This was your turn."

"I'm greedy. I want both."

She had one hand sliding down into my shorts when my phone rang on the nightstand where I had left it.

The screen said Mom.

We both looked at it.

It was eleven forty at night, and my mother never called after nine.

I picked up, because ignoring her is not a thing that I have ever been able to do.

"Robin, honey, I know it's late," Joan said. "Harvey can't sleep either, and we've been talking about Thanksgiving."

Flora's fingers stilled against my stomach.

"Mom, can this wait?"

"I'm doing the turkey and the sides, and you're doing the pies like always."

"Tell Flora she's coming too, since you two are living together now. I'm so glad."

"Mom."

"You look out for your sister. Bring her, and be nice."

My mother hung up before I could answer.

I lay on my back in the guest bed with the phone on my chest.

Flora was propped on one elbow beside me, hair falling over one shoulder, her hand still on my stomach.

She was biting her lip, and I couldn't tell if she was laughing or about to start.

"Looks like we're going to Thanksgiving together," she whispered.

"Looks like it."

"Be nice to your sister, Robin."

Her hand moved lower.

"I'm being very nice," Flora said.

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