Part II
"I didn't think you'd be here until tomorrow," my brother said, his voice strained as he watched Anna lick champagne from her fingertips with theatrical slowness. The words hung between us like a poorly strung tightrope, too obvious in their deflection, too telling in their desperation to steer the conversation anywhere but where Anna was pushing it.
Anna stood up with the effortless grace of someone who'd spent years commanding attention in hotel rooms just like this one. The hem of her dress whispered against her thighs as she crossed the space between us, and for one absurd moment, I thought she might reach for the champagne bottle. Then her manicured fingers were tilting my chin up, her perfume, something expensive and floral, filling my lungs as she kissed me full on the lips.
The kiss lasted three heartbeats, one for shock, two for paralysis, three for the electric current that shot down my spine. Anna pulled away with a smirk, her thumb swiping at my lower lip. "Mmm. Just as I thought," she murmured, eyes flicking to where my stepbrother stood frozen. "Champagne and poor decisions."
The champagne flute slipped from my fingers and shattered against the floor. Anna didn't even flinch, just arched one perfectly shaped eyebrow while I stood there like a stunned animal, my lips still tingling from the contact.
My brother stood there grinning like a Cheshire cat, his amusement stretching wider with each passing second of my stunned silence. The bastard wasn't even trying to hide it, one hand tucked casually in his pocket while the other held his champagne flute aloft like this was some fucking toast at our incestuous wedding reception.
The second kiss wasn't hers to take, it was mine. I grabbed Anna by the waist with hands still damp from nervous champagne sweat, pulling her against me so hard the rose pinned to her dress crumpled between us. Her lips parted in surprise against mine, tasting of strawberries and something darker, like the Turkish coffee we'd ignored on the minibar.
Anna gasped against my mouth, her perfectly manicured hands flying up to brace against my shoulders, not pushing away, just steadying herself as my teeth caught her lower lip. Some distant part of my brain registered the muffled clatter of her purse hitting the marble floor, the sound swallowed by my brother’s sharp inhale behind us.
Anna broke the kiss first, her breath ragged against my lips as she pulled back just far enough to murmur, "Well that wasn't in the service agreement." Her dark eyes flicked over my shoulder to where my brother stood frozen, his champagne flute tilted at a dangerous angle.
Anna's fingers curled around the thin straps of my sundress with practiced ease, her nails scraping lightly against my shoulders as she pushed the fabric downward. The dress slithered over my hips like liquid silk, pooling at my feet in a rumpled circle of yellow cotton. I stood frozen in the sudden exposure, the hotel air conditioning raising goosebumps along my bare arms and torso, my pulse hammering loud enough that I wondered if they could hear it.
Anna's mouth was hot against my throat as she pushed me backward onto the king-sized bed, her teeth scraping a deliberate path down my neck that made my breath hitch. The crisp hotel sheets felt cool against my overheated skin as she straddled my thighs, her fingers already working at the waistband of my underwear with practiced efficiency.
Anna's teeth grazed my nipple just as her fingers hooked into the lace of my underwear, the sudden dual sensation making my back arch off the mattress involuntarily. The humid Turkish air clung to my bare skin as she dragged the fabric down agonizingly slow, her breath hot against my nipple. "Christ" I gasped, fingers twisting in the sheets when she bit down gently, the sharp pleasure radiating straight to my already throbbing core.
The sound of my own heartbeat roared in my ears as Anna finally tugged my underwear past my hips, her manicured nails dragging along the sensitive skin of my inner thighs. I caught a flash of my brother standing frozen near the balcony doors, his champagne glass dangling forgotten from his fingers, his gaze locked on Anna's mouth at my breast. The realization that he was watching, really watching, sent a fresh wave of heat between my legs.
Anna's mouth closed around my nipple with devastating precision, not the tentative exploration of an amateur, but the calculated pressure of someone who knew exactly how to make hips buck. Her tongue flicked the hardened peak just as her fingers found the slick heat between my thighs, and my gasp ricocheted off the vaulted ceiling. "Fuck" The curse splintered when she crooked two fingers inside me without warning, her thumb pressing ruthless circles against my clit.
The champagne flute was swinging in my brothers fingers just as Anna's teeth grazed my nipple. His voice cut through the haze of pleasure like a knife, casual, amused, familiar in a way that made my stomach flip. "You enjoying that, sis?" His chuckle rolled across the room, dark and warm as the Turkish night outside. "By the way, nice tits."
"You're not allowed to compliment my tits while a stranger is sucking on them," I moaned, the words dissolving into a gasp as Anna's fingers twisted deeper inside me. My hips jerked involuntarily against her hand, the hotel sheets bunching beneath my bare back. The absurdity of chastising my brother while a professional escort had me writhing on his hotel bed would've been hilarious if Anna hadn't chosen that moment to drag her teeth down my sternum.
Anna's lips trailed lower, her breath hot against my stomach as she paused just above where I ached for her most. She glanced up at me through thick lashes, her fingers still working inside me with torturous precision. "Such a pretty little sister," she murmured, her accent thickening with amusement. "So wet for me already."
My fingers twisted in Anna's hair, not pushing her away, not pulling her closer, just feeling the impossibility of the moment as her tongue finally licked a hot stripe up my centre. "Jesus Christ," I gasped, my thighs trembling against her shoulders. The champagne haze made everything blur at the edges, the way my brother's knuckles whitened around his glass, the wet sounds Anna was making between my legs.
Anna's tongue flicked against me with precision that made my toes curl into the sheets. I bit my lip hard enough to taste copper, my gaze darting between her dark head between my thighs and my brother's frozen silhouette by the minibar. His champagne flute hovered mid-air, condensation dripping onto his fingers unnoticed.
Anna's tongue traced slow circles that had my hips lifting off the sheets without permission. I caught my brother's gaze, dark and unreadable, just as Anna's fingers replaced her mouth, plunging deep while her thumb pressed against me in rhythmic pulses.
My fingers twisted violently in Anna's hair when the first wave hit, no polite little tremors but a full-body convulsion that arched me off the bed with a choked scream. Her nose pressed flush against me as I ground down, the wet heat of her mouth and the sharp sting of her teeth the only anchors as pleasure turned my vision white. Some distant part of my brain registered the crash of shattered glass, my brother's champagne flute hitting the tiles, but all I could process was Anna's muffled laughter vibrating against my thighs as I rode her face like I was trying to imprint myself on her tongue.
The aftermath of my climax left me boneless against the sheets, my chest heaving as Anna withdrew with deliberate slowness, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand like she'd just finished a particularly satisfying meal. My brother hadn't moved, just stood there his knuckles gone pale around his glass, his gaze locked on the wet shine between my thighs.
"That was some show, sis," he laughed, that same low, dark chuckle that used to make my stomach flip when we were teenagers sharing stolen beers on the fire escape. Only now his voice was rougher, the champagne and whatever else thickening his tone as he stepped over the shattered glass toward the bed.
"Now make brother happy, yes?" Anna's husky laugh curled through the air as she shoved my brother backward onto the mattress's edge with practiced ease. His linen shirt gaped open where she'd torn buttons in her haste, revealing the taut line of his abdomen as she sank to her knees between his spread legs.
My fingers twitched against the rumpled sheets, still damp with sweat and champagne, as Anna's manicured nails flicked open his belt with practiced efficiency. The metallic clink of the buckle echoed obscenely loud in the sudden silence of the suite, louder even than my own heartbeat thudding in my ears.
Anna's fingers curled around him with the certainty of someone who'd handled countless cocks, but the way she held eye contact while stroking him, slow, deliberate upstrokes that made his thighs tense, felt oddly intimate for a paid transaction. The corner of her mouth twitched when his breath hitched, her thumb brushing the swollen head just hard enough to make his hips jerk involuntarily.
Anna's tongue traced a molten path from root to tip in one excruciatingly slow stroke, her lips curling into a smirk when his fingers spasmed against the sheets. The wet heat of her mouth contrasted sharply with the cool air against his exposed skin, her breath ghosting over his aching cock just before she dropped another devastating inch, taking him deeper with practiced ease.
"Oh fuck," he moaned, arching off the mattress as Anna's tongue swirls around the head of his cock, his fingers twisting in the sheets. "I haven't had sex in an age." The admission slips out unbidden, raw and desperate, and Anna's dark chuckle vibrates against his skin as she takes him deeper, her painted nails digging into his thighs just hard enough to leave crescent marks.
Anna's mouth moved with devastating precision, each swirl of her tongue, each calculated suck timed perfectly to drag out sounds from him that I had never heard before. The sight of my brother's cock disappearing between Anna's crimson lips sent a fresh pulse of heat between my thighs, my own fingers twitching against the crumpled sheets where I still lay sprawled.
I watched Anna work with equal parts fascination and residual shock, my legs still splayed shamelessly across the bed. Her crimson-tipped fingers flexed around his cock with the precision of a concert pianist, each twist of her wrist, each calculated squeeze drawing out ragged sounds from my brother that made my own thighs press together instinctively. The contrast between her immaculate French manicure and the raw, wet sounds of her mouth around him sent an unexpected jolt through my spent body.
Watching Anna's lips stretch around his cock, I realize with sudden clarity how surreal this moment is, my brother's thick length disappearing into a stranger's mouth while my own thighs still glisten from her tongue. The champagne bubbles in my stomach like liquid electricity as I whisper hoarsely, "Jesus Christ, we're really doing this," my fingers rising unconsciously to stroke my own sensitive nipples. He groans something incoherent in response, his hips jerking off the mattress when Anna hollows her cheeks with a wet, obscene sound that makes my breath catch.
Anna's lips stretched obscenely around his cock, the wet, rhythmic sounds filling the suite as my breath hitched watching your hips jerk involuntarily against her practiced mouth. "Jesus," I bit my lip hard enough to taste copper, my fingers twitching against the sheets, "you're not gonna last much longer, are you?" Reaching out instinctively, my trembling fingers stroked through Anna's perfectly styled hair as she worked you over with devastating precision. "Fuck...watching you come undone like this is..." I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry, "...strangely hypnotic."
I found myself moving before conscious thought took hold, knees hitting the floor beside Anna, my fingers still tangled in her hair from that tentative stroke moments before. The heat of Anna's cheek brushed my inner wrist as she worked, her rhythm never faltering even as my presence altered the geometry of their intimacy. The scent of sex and expensive champagne hung thick between us, mingling with the salt-tang of sweat beading along my stepbrother's tensed abdomen.
Anna's fingers tightened in my hair with unexpected gentleness, her manicured nails scraping my scalp just enough to make me shiver. "Slowly," she murmured against his thigh, her breath hot where she'd momentarily pulled away, a professional advising an amateur. My tongue darted out instinctively before I'd fully processed the directive, tasting salt and musk and something uniquely you as I lapped tentatively at your tightening sac.
The contrast between Anna's polished control and my clumsy enthusiasm sent an electric thrill down my spine, here I was, kneeling between his spread legs like some nervous virgin, while a paid professional guided my every move with the detached precision of a tennis coach. His choked groan when my tongue first made contact vibrated through me, my lips parting wider as Anna's hand pressed me closer still, her silent instruction clear: take more.
"Oh fuck I'm going to cum," he moaned, the words cracking mid-sentence as Anna's fingers tightened in my hair, guiding me deeper. The taste of salt and musk flooded my mouth, his thighs trembling violently against my shoulders. I could feel Anna watching us, her polished detachment contrasting sharply with the raw, wet sounds filling the room, and something about that knowledge made me bolder. My fingers dug into his hips as I took him fully, my nose brushing coarse curls while his choked curses dissolved into nonsense.
His thighs trembled violently as I swallowed convulsively, the bitter-salt taste flooding my senses while Anna's manicured fingers kept my head firmly in place. Some distant part of my brain registered the obscene wet sounds, my gulps, his ragged panting, the slick slide of Anna's thumb wiping a stray droplet from my chin, but all coherent thought dissolved into pure sensation. His fingers tangled in my hair weren't gentle anymore, pulling almost painfully as his hips jerked involuntarily against my lips, and the realization that I'd reduced my composed brother to this writhing, cursing mess sent a fresh wave of heat between my own thighs.
Anna's murmur of "good girl" against my ear barely registered over the pounding of my pulse. Her detached professionalism should've been jarring amidst our shared transgression, but instead it anchored me, gave permission for this to just be about sensation, about technique, about the way his breath hitched when I hollowed my cheeks just so. When she adjusted my angle slightly, her rings cool against my flushed skin, the resulting groan from above us vibrated through my entire skull.
His hips stuttered against my lips in erratic pulses, each one flooding my mouth with more than I could swallow. Hot streaks painted the back of my throat, my nose pressed against his trembling abdomen as Anna's grip kept me locked in place. The sheer volume startled me, years of pent-up release spilling over my tongue in waves that tasted like salt and something distinctly him beneath the bitterness.
Anna's detached chuckle vibrated against my shoulder. "Turkish men pay triple for this stamina," she mused, her rings clinking against my jaw as she finally allowed me to pull back. Strings of pearly white still connected my lips to his twitching length, my breath coming in ragged gasps as I wiped my chin with the back of my hand. His cum dripped down my fingers, onto the floor between my bare knees, impossible to ignore, impossible to pretend this wasn't happening.
Anna stood with the fluid grace of a woman who'd performed this exit a thousand times, her fingers smoothing invisible wrinkles from her dress. "My job is done now, yes?" Her accent curled around the words like smoke, eyes flicking between my swollen lips and his still-heaving chest. The professional mask never slipped, not when she plucked her handbag from the rumpled sheets, not when she stepped over the puddle of champagne we'd knocked over earlier.
The hotel door clicked shut behind Anna with surgical finality, leaving only the wet sound of my breathing and the distant hum of the minibar filling the silence. My knees ached against the floor, palms still braced on the bedframe where Anna had pinned them moments ago. The scent of sex and expensive perfume hung thick in the air, mixing with the salt-tang drifting through the open balcony doors.
I stayed frozen between his splayed thighs, knees pressing into the floor's intricate patterns, the geometric shapes imprinting on my skin. His softening cock glistened under the dim bedside lamp, a stray drop of cum sliding down the length, proof this wasn't some fever dream. The balcony curtains fluttered, sending a salt-kissed breeze across my flushed face.
"What the fuck just happened?" My voice cracked on the last syllable, still tasting him on my lips. The question hung between us like the condensation dripping down the champagne flute abandoned near the bed, fragile, unstable, impossible to ignore.
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