I Want Your Sister

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Twenty days. That was all the time left before Luciano was to marry. Of course, he’d known well in advance that he would be married sooner or later. More like sold to the highest bidder. It didn’t matter whether he liked the woman he was about to marry or if she was pretty enough for his tastes, the deal had already been made with the Morini family.

That’s right, a grown man who’d already lived thirty-two years of his life was being sold by his Pa and Ma to another grown man–er, to his daughter. The two of them would wed, make a caravan full of miniature made men, and then hope to live a long and prosperous life full of something sort of like love.

It would be fine.

Luciano did not hold the same sentiment. It wasn’t that he was upset about the marriage. He held off as long as he could, doing his father’s dirty work in hopes that the old man would forget about the marriage entirely. It was simply that he did not want to be married, much less be forced into a marriage over something so silly like a peace treaty and money.

But when the Morini family made an offer his Pa couldn’t refuse, Luci knew he would be utterly fucked. Locked right the hell down by the ring that he was going to put on a woman’s hand. A woman he didn’t know. He felt the weight of the box in his pocket, heavy and fucking relentless. It felt like a steel anchor weighing him down

Not only would he have to share his home with another person, but his money and quiet time would soon be spent on screaming babies and shitty diapers. He wanted to point a pistol directly at his temple just at the mere thought of the screaming and the rancid smells. Fortunately, he would just continue his mental anguish and be dramatic internally.

Tonight was the night of the couple’s engagement party. Close family to Italians meant cousins, cousins of cousins, and the fleas attached to the dogs of the cousins of cousins. In short, the ballroom was entirely crammed full of loudly chattering drunk men and women who’d gotten their tits done just for the occasion.

He hated it–the fakeness of it all, and he wasn’t just talking about the silicone titties and nose jobs. He knew that these people were here for their own gain. They looked for husbands for their single daughters, fathers who needed a favor done in return for their loyalty, and children who had yet to learn the ways of their grandfathers.

But he wasn’t the one paying for such a lavish display of social hierarchy, so all he had to do was stand idly off to the side and sip on his fifth glass of champagne. At least no one watered the shit down. How could you make horrible life decisions on half the amount of alcohol necessary for chaos?

That’s what this was, his horrible life decision. He had to keep telling himself that, because what’s more embarrassing than saying, “Hi, I’m thirty-two and getting engaged to a woman that my mommy and daddy picked for me like a little bitch boy.”

He knew it was normal to marry this way in his family, but that didn’t mean he had to be happy about it.

As he polished off his sixth glass and moved to the seventh, his father was given a microphone. The damn thing squealed to life and pissed Luci off even more. His head was beginning to throb from the annoyingly bright lights and the music that had been drunkenly sung along to for hours. The party was for him, so why were these people doing everything in their power to put him in such a bad mood?

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen!” Luciano’s father began, smiling a wide and entirely fake smile. Luci knew no one else could tell it was fake. That pissed him off about five percent more. His fuck around and find out meter was quickly approaching catastrophic levels. How much more could he take?

“As you all know, my wonderful son has finally decided to put aside work and settle down…”

A fucking lie, Luci thought. The next waiter who walked by was stripped of their champagne bottle. “My dear boy has picked a beautiful bride and we cannot wait to welcome Elaina to the family…”

Luciano groaned obnoxiously loud at the mention of her name. He felt bad in the kind of way a three-legged dog makes one feel. Like he should help the woman by giving her a nice life but at the same time, maybe he’d be better off just putting her down.

As his father continued his well-rehearsed speech, he noticed that his bride-to-be and her parents were front and center listening. She’d been doted on all night, receiving presents and words of advice from the wives stuck in this life longer than she’d been alive. It was pathetic. Where were his presents and advice?

How would he know how to dodge a frying pan or which flowers to buy his wife after he cheated on her? Shit, he felt cheated right about now. Where the fuck were his flowers?

Luci thought he’d vomit if he kept listening about the new house, the babies, and how much fun he’d have experiencing the finest things with his wife. He did not want fun. He did at that moment want that pistol back on his temple. More than escort pendik he wanted it at the thought of crying babies. The thought of cool metal pressed against the alcohol being sweated out of his forehead was nice.

When he couldn’t take it anymore, he decided to take his self pity somewhere else. Clearly these people didn’t care if he was here. His new wife didn’t care. What a bitch, he thought. Couldn’t even shake some ass on the man about to pay for her entire life. Pfft, and this is what he had to be so happy about?

He slipped out of the ballroom with no interruptions. He was starting to think that the night wasn’t really for him. Maybe it wasn’t even for Elaina. It was probably for both of their fathers. Yeah, that made the most sense. They were the ones orchestrating the entire thing, anyway.

As the half-empty bottle dangled by his side, he loosened his tie and began clumsily walking down the hallway toward a restroom. The glass bottle clinked against the door as he opened it and waltzed right to the sink. He stuck out in the fancy bathroom, now looking like he won a fight against his worst enemy. Too bad she was currently standing in a sparkly dress with his parents talking about all the cum Luci would pump into her pussy to make a billion more babies.

Maybe they hadn’t said it like that, but everyone surely loved to mention off hand about how much sex he’d be having soon. Objectifying his cock. He wanted to be pitied, the poor breeding horse of a man. Is that all they saw him for? The champagne sure made it feel that way. He’d show them. Though, he did like to fuck.

His eyes were shadowed by dark circles, hair a fucking mess but at least he was naturally attractive. He set the bottle on the counter and gripped the edge, squeezing it until the veins in his hands bulged. Maybe he should punch something to let off a little steam. That was a brilliant idea. Better than being a runaway groom before the wedding even happened.

Just as he looked over his scarred knuckles raised in the air and at the mirror, the most pathetic little sniffle came from one of the stalls. He froze, fist still in the air and aimed directly at his fucked-up-but-still-attractive face. Shit. Why now? Couldn’t a man get some privacy at his own pity party?

Another tiny sob made him sigh. He was too drunk for this shit. Didn’t this person know that his party was already ruined by a bunch of freeloading, silicone-tittied, good-for-nothing scum? And now he had to listen to someone else bitch on his special day.

He had half a mind to knock on the door and tell them to fuck off. Go find somewhere else to snot all over. He had no time to listen to them cry over something so meaningless, never mind the fact that he didn’t know what the problem was. Even if he did, his life was the one being ruined! They could wait to cry until they got back home. It was his turn.

The lock to the stall clicked and the door opened with a subtle squeal. Three clicks of expensive high heels brought the woman out of the stall where she’d been crying. When he locked eyes with the short woman who was focused on his raised fist, he knew he didn’t need to punch something to make his night more tolerable.

The girl looked afraid. Maybe she should have been, seeing as how she was about to be subjected to his less than heroic plan. She was red and puffy from crying and even if she were in a room full of Italians instead of the minimally occupied bathroom, he still would have noticed her.

Not because he was now magically in love at the first sight of her.

Absolutely the fuck not.

But because this woman wasn’t just some random wife sent off before she embarrassed her husband. He knew this woman. Not personally, of course, but in about twenty days he’d be buried balls deep in her sister.

He smiled widely at her, dropping his fist back down to the bottle. He gripped the neck in his large hand, pushing it toward her. The liquid sloshed in the bottle as he swirled it. “Looks like someone needs a drink,” he said playfully, waggling the bottle around. Sure, he might’ve been incredibly drunk and on a mission to save a piece of his sanity, but he knew a good opportunity when he saw one. No way he’d give this up.

“I’m not old enough to drink,” the girl said. He frowned at that. Back to the drawing board. Of course the sister would be just as useless as his bride.

He pulled the bottle back to his chest, looking over her tight dress and high slit. She certainly didn’t present herself as too young to drink. “Well, how old are you?” he asked, hugging the bottle like it was his lifeline.

“Twenty,” she replied, moving past him to the sink. Was she not aware of who this man was? Maybe she couldn’t tell because of the eyebags. Yeah, that was it. She would have recognized his handsome face otherwise.

He chuckled, handing her the bottle once more. “In that case, I’d say you’ve been old enough to drink for the last decade.”

She didn’t think it was funny. She istanbul escort rolled her eyes and that act alone made his cock twitch. What a little brat. She really must not have known him acting like that. But when she turned, pressing her plump ass into the counter as she crossed her arms over her stomach, he could see in her eyes that she knew him.

“Why aren’t you with Elaina?” she asked softly. “I’m sure she’s about to have a full fucking meltdown over it.” And she was probably right. Luci wasn’t going to admit that he’d been thankful to sit out wedding planning with the bridezilla and her entourage made of two bitchy mothers.

That made him laugh. Like a real, deep laugh fueled by booze and the twenty-year-old bratty sister of his fiancé. What the hell was her issue? She took the bottle, looking at the label before knocking it back.

“Atta girl,” he murmured, joining her in leaning his backside against the counter. “Why aren’t you with your sister…” he asked, purposely looking at her because while he knew her face, he didn’t know her name. Didn’t ever feel the need to learn it.

“Isla,” she answered, clearly understanding that she was not important enough for people to know. He had plans for that. “And because some of us are just the extras. I’ve been banished from the party. She didn’t like my dress.”

Luci grunted, eyeing her head to toe. What was there to dislike? From a man’s standpoint, he meant. He didn’t care who she was as a person. She was thick, had a fat ass and a nice rack. Pretty face, maybe a little chubby in her cheeks but he didn’t see a problem with that. She was fuckable and right now, that’s all his head cared about. The little head.

“She thinks I’m trying to steal her night,” she finished, passing him the bottle again. Luciano knew what that felt like, because he’d been in a ballroom full of people ruining his night not even ten minutes ago. And now here he was, sitting in the bathroom with the little sister of his bride, sharing a drink and shit talking said bride. He liked that.

He took the bottle and gulped another drink before setting it on the counter. And then, because of the alcohol he was sure, Luciano had a brilliant idea. He sure as shit didn’t want to marry Elaina. She was poised and confident, strong and secure in who she was as a person.

But looking at Isla, she seemed to be the exact opposite. She was unsure of her place here, simply just existing as background noise. That excited him. She was forbidden fruit, left behind to rot as Elaina was taught how to be a wife and mother.

Luciano didn’t ever want to marry Elaina. Didn’t want to marry anyone for that matter. But he would not mind stuffing his cock into Isla just to prove a point. The point being that he was a big boy and could pump his cock into any woman he wanted! Er, he did that already, but he knew what deflowering Isla meant. He’d be free from Elaina. Well, he’d see her at every family gathering for the rest of forever, but at least he wouldn’t have to pretend to like her.

Oh, how that would piss his father off. And his mother, her mother, her father, Elaina, the pastor, and probably every single spider currently making a cobweb in the corners of the overpriced ballroom.

He said nothing more than a muffled, “fuck it,” as he stood to his full height and turned to Isla, cupping her chubby cheeks and pulling her to his face as he kissed her deeply.

She tasted like champagne. Or maybe that was him. He was too drunk to care, but he did feel the way her lips moved against his with zero hesitation. From the kiss alone, he knew she was the typical virgin. She lacked any character in her kiss, but for some reason that made him more hungry for her. She was untouched by any man except for him.

Luci still did have that ring in his pocket. And boy was it heavy. No longer feeling like an anchor, it felt like what it was worth. A big, fat fucking diamond waiting to be put on the finger of his real wife. The answer was right here all along! Oh yes, she would be his bride, his unused, virginal bride that he would fuck right here before even being engaged to her.

His bride-to-be had a reputation. She was a slut. His father didn’t care that he was marrying his only son off to some whore who knew how to use her tongue for way more than just a kiss, but Luci cared. Maybe sober Luci didn’t mind. But drunken Luci was roaring for revenge about being sold to the slutty sister.

He’d right the wrongs thrown at him in the form of his bride’s younger sister.

Luciano groaned as he deepened the kiss, sliding his hands down her hips to her round ass. He could feel his hardening cock against her stomach, wanting nothing more than to slide her panties down right there and fuck her. He gave her ass a little smack, humming approvingly at the way it jiggled. She moaned, not knowing how to do what he was trying to do but not wanting it to stop.

All she knew is her big sister’s asshole fiancé was making a very nice ruckus between her hips. She felt warm escort kurtköy and fuzzy, probably from both the champagne and the thought of how wrong she was for this. Her big sister always got the good things in life! Maybe it was her turn for once…

A gasp flew out of her mouth as he lifted her by her thighs and set her on the counter. The champagne bottle clattered to the floor as he smacked it away, immediately diving into her neck. She smelled so good and fresh, like some kind of floral shit. Didn’t matter. All he knew was that her scent was about to make him feral.

Luciano would mark her neck with his teeth and lips, claiming her in the form of a big, purple mark. She’d have to walk around for the rest of the night with his mouth painted on her neck for everyone to see. They’d all see the evidence that she’d stolen her sister’s husband.

Luci could nut just thinking about the horrified expressions on everyone’s faces when they walked into the ballroom hand in hand, his cum still buried deep in her pussy. Damn, he did like that. He’d definitely give her that silly old ring in his pocket if she wanted it. Just for the show.

He spread her legs wide open, standing between them as his cock pressed against her thigh. She gasped at the feeling, never having felt one let alone seen one in person before. And now this Italian Stallion was between her legs kissing her neck and soaking her panties.

Luciano planted his large hands on the counter beside her hips, pulling away from her neck with wet, swollen lips. He licked his lips, rolling the bottom one into his mouth as he chuckled briefly. He couldn’t describe this feeling as anything but victory!

“Isla…” he groaned, planting sloppy kisses along her neck and ear. “Tell me you’ve never been touched.”

“I… I’ve never been touched…” she murmured, lost in the feeling of him. For some reason, she felt like his statement implied she was lying, but she knew she hadn’t been touched, kissed, and surely not fucked.

He moaned in her ear, already getting off to the thought of getting the bride he deserved. The only downside would be fucking her before the wedding night, but leaving her pumped full of his jizz was the only way to ensure he wouldn’t be stuck with her sister! It had to be done. So unfortunate.

He laughed at the thought of Elaina’s carefully constructed wedding being passed to her little husband stealing sister. He’d pay double whatever her cuck of a father was paying just to see the look on everyone’s faces when Elaina’s flowers were being thrown over Isla.

Luciano used both hands to pull up her dress, pushing it above her wide hips. Her panties were now exposed, especially the faint wet mark on the white fabric. It was perfect. She wore white for him, he was sure of it. Maybe he was a little self centered, or maybe she was psychic and knew she’d be fucking him tonight.

Only one of those statements were true and it didn’t have to do with her white panties.

“God, you’re perfect,” he mumbled, undoing his belt in a flash. “So fucking perfect…”

Again, he didn’t know this girl as a person. She was perfect because she happened to have been born five years after her older sister and was now spread on a bathroom counter at an engagement party that he was supposed to be attending. It was so fucked up. He couldn’t get enough of it.

Before she knew what was happening, Luci bent down, pulling her panties to the side as he began eating her pussy. He held her open, licking straight up from her hole to her clit. She gasped as her entire body stiffened before relaxing with a low moan.

“You’re soaked,” Luci said, looking up at her with a wet chin. “Why didn’t you tell me?” The cocky bastard winked at her, diving straight back in. And she really was making a fucking mess on him. He’d smell like sex by the time he was through. He’d smell like sex when he danced with his fiancé. The thought made him suck Isla’s clit into his mouth.

She tried to snap her legs shut at the pleasurable sensation, never having felt it when she played with herself. He sucked softly on the bud, drawing out low moans and pants from the girl. It was like her brain was melting with every subtle suck. She couldn’t think straight, could barely keep her eyes open.

All she could do was submit to the feeling, allowing her legs to fall open and her back to hit the cold mirror behind her. Her eyelids hooded in lust and she couldn’t stop her hand from grabbing the back of his head. She wanted him to stay right there, to allow her to use his mouth for her own pleasure. And he would happily lap up her cunt if it meant having her in his bed instead of the other one.

Luci groaned into her pussy as he flattened his tongue and moved it side to side on her clit. His tongue was so warm and wet against her pussy. She had no idea what to do, what to say, but all she could do was sit there and accept her fate. She’d be eaten and fucked and probably even engaged by the end of the night, but who cared when it was to this man?

Luciano pulled back with a kiss to her cunt, panting as he looked up at her. “You ever played with this pussy?” he asked, rubbing her soft thighs. He figured the answer would be no, but when she nodded and replied, “Only with one finger,” he could have busted right there.

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