Kitten Love

Kittina Clairette pins Sharon White to the mattress, her mouth curved like she just found the last cookie in the jar. Sharon lies there flushed, hands already pulled up like she knows the game. Kittina grabs her wrists—snap, off come the real handcuffs. Not bedroom props. Real metal. They click shut, the sound louder than it has any right to be. Kittina leans in, whispers something filthy, Sharon giggles and tries to hide her face, ends up biting her own knuckle instead. The skirt comes next. Kittina hikes it without ceremony, yanks Sharon’s panties down hard enough to make the elastic snap once before they’re gone completely. Sharon’s already wet—shiny and obvious. Kittina laughs, drags two fingers through it slow, like she’s checking the oil on a car. “Didn’t even make you wait this time,” she says. Sharon’s hips jump; her thighs try to close and Kittina slaps the inside of one, sharp and loud. It leaves a pink print that makes Sharon moan. Then the strap-on appears—bright pink, ridiculous, impossible not to stare at. Kittina puts it on while Sharon watches, jaw slack, legs spreading wider like her body’s on autopilot. The toy wobbles as Kittina climbs over her, lines up, pushes in deep with one long, smooth thrust. Sharon gasps, head tipping back, cuffed hands grabbing air. Kittina starts moving, fast and rough, hips snapping. Every time Sharon tries to hold back a sound, Kittina gets meaner, calls her greedy, tells her to take it all like the good little stepsister she is. Sharon nods, thighs shaking, letting the slick toy disappear inside her again and again while her big sis watches with a grin that says she planned this the whole time.