Confronting My Sister

Olive sits hunched over her journal, pen digging into the page like she's carving a confession. By the time their parents walked down the aisle, she thought she'd have Serena figured out. Instead, the craving only got worse. She decides the waiting ends tonight. She slips into Serena's massage studio after hours, strips fast, and stretches out on the table. Footsteps. The door opens. Serena's oiled hands land on bare skin without a word. The moment Serena reaches the shoulders, Olive rolls onto her back with a wicked grin. Serena freezes. Her face drops from professional warmth straight into dread. Her own step-sister. Naked. Here. Olive laughs low. "Relax. Figured I'd surprise you and score a free rub at the same time." She stretches, slow, deliberate. "Bonding experience." Serena swallows, looks around like the walls might rescue her, then nods once. Her hands press into muscle again. Olive's body is wound tight; Serena feels every knot. "You're carrying a ton of stress," Serena mutters. "Since the wedding, yeah. Whole new family. Whole new rules." Olive's voice dips. "You're good with your hands." The compliment hangs heavy. Serena's jaw tightens, but she keeps working. Olive shifts her thigh. "Lower. Work the legs." Serena's fingers slide nearer ass than comfort allows. Olive's breath turns ragged, a moan slips out. Serena stops cold. Olive lifts up on her elbows. "Flip me. Do my front." On her back, Olive spreads just enough. Serena's palms glide up inner thighs. Another moan, louder. Serena yanks her hands away. Olive meets her stare. "We should fool around." Serena recoils. "Why the hell would you think I'd do that?" "Because you like women. And I'm right here." Olive's words land soft but lethal. "Nobody has to know." Serena's breathing stutters. Every excuse she tries to raise gets picked apart, one after another. The idea takes root. She looks at the door, the empty hallway, the quiet studio. Then back at Olive—flushed, waiting, already slick between her legs. The lock clicks. Serena's hands return, this time slower, possessive. She's about to show her step-sister exactly what she's been missing.