Are We Sisters?

They met and fucked like the world was ending. Weeks later the floor shifted. Their mothers started screwing and everyone moved in together under one roof. Now sneaking around takes more than just careful footsteps. Hallway glances burn. The bathroom lock clicks loud. Her whisper against Alina's ear says "stepsisters" like a secret hand sliding down her spine. The risk spikes harder. It makes Abella wet faster, makes Alina grind back with her teeth against the pillow. Fingers. Tongues. Breath held until the footsteps pass. Then they break every unspoken rule, faster, deeper, dirtier than before, because now even the wrongness feels like foreplay.