And feel them up, I did. I was on top of Deen. Supporting myself on one arm, I kneaded her right breast with my other. My freaky beast friend squirmed and started to breathe harder.

  I expected some resistance, but there was none. This was Deen’s idea, but she didn’t fucking understand how this should go. She shouldn’t make it this easy! We had a script to follow here; this wasn’t some half-assed foreplay she could simply push aside because she was turned on.

  Deen grabbed my hand and pressed it harder against her boob. It was as if she wanted me to absolutely mash her like a potato. With a half-gaping mouth, she moaned. I wanted to slap her for ignoring my acting efforts.

  I pulled my hand away and sat up, straddling Deen. She opened her eyes after I stopped groping her, raising her brow to question me why I stopped.

  “You really have huge breasts, sis,” I said, signifying that the roleplay continues. “Don’t your shoulders hurt from carrying all that weight? I remember there’s an actress who got breast reduction surgery because her back hurts or something.”

  “Well… it doesn’t hurt now that I’m no longer—”

  I rolled my eyes. “Sis, we’re regular girls, remember? So, does it hurt?”

  Deen sat up, bringing our faces close together. I leaned back so we wouldn’t accidentally kiss. She had a mischievous smile. She understood that I wanted to continue our bit and seemed to be on board.

  Massaging her shoulders, Deen made a face, “Yeah… It’s unavoidable. You wouldn’t understand, sis, because you don’t have… You know?”

  “Wow! Here I am concerned, concerned about your welfare, and you’re going to roast me?” I pinched her cheek. Her eyes widened. Usually, she was the one pinching my cheek. “You should be more respectful to your older sister.”

  “Just kidding,” Deen said. “I mean, yeah, having big boobs is a chore. I’m not sure how much they weigh, but they’re hefty.”

  “Let me try to estimate their weight.” I bounced Deen’s braless breast on my palm a couple of times. Deen gasped; she had a look of longing as I withdrew my hand. “Maybe a couple of pounds each?” I said, observing her hardening nipples strain against the thin fabric of her shirt.

  “Only that? I think they’re a bit heavier.”

  “Just can’t help but show off to your less endowed older sister, huh?” I got off her legs and returned to massaging them. “Poor you. Aching back. Aching legs. Let me be a responsible older sister, taking care of her suffering younger sister. Sorry in advance that I know nothing about massages,” I added as I randomly squeezed the sole of her right foot.

  “Mhmm… It feels great…” Deen leaned back and propped her right leg over her left knee, pointing it in my direction. Her already short shorts hiked further up her leg. I could see the lace trimmings of her white panties from this angle.

  Deen was probably observing where I was looking. She’d get turned on thinking that my supposedly lustful eyes roamed her body. I decided to give her what she wanted since I was a benevolent best friend. Instead of creepy guys leering at her, it was time for her bestest friend to do so.

  I forced myself to examine Deen’s body, though it wasn’t my thing. Why would I? I barely looked at other people, be they attractive or not.

  But since Deen and I were… sexual partners… of sorts, I decided to appreciate her for the fine specimen she was. Fine specimen? I sounded like a creep in my head. Anyway, I was a woman appreciating the body of another woman. Nothing wrong here.

  And Deen was very beautiful. Sexy. The toned body that she worked hard for was very impressive. Her milky skin tone made me want to lick the back of her legs.

  Okay… I’m turning into a creep, too.

  I turned my gaze to Deen’s foot that I was massaging. It was so pretty and pristine, as if the foot of a goddess carved in marble. My mouth salivated while observing her toes. The nails were neatly trimmed, clean, and perfectly shaped. I was surprised to find my heart gradually beating faster.

  Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

  Was I attracted to Deen’s foot? What the hell?

  Just… go with the flow?

  My hands moved on to Deen’s ankle and down to her shapely calves. I could feel the lines of her muscles under the soft and bouncy flesh. I raised her leg some more and scooted forward to reach her calves.

  Her toes almost touched my lips. She muttered a quick sorry and moved them away. Then a brilliant idea came to me. From the corner of my eye, I saw Deen observing me while I looked at her foot. “Deen, does your foot still hurt after I massaged it?”

  “Not anymore. You did great. Thanks for—” she stopped when I glared at her. She questioningly tilted her head. I spotted the moment the lightbulb dinged in her brain as she understood what I was getting at. “Uh, I mean, they still hurt. Like, super badly.”

  This was proof of our best-friend connection. I was also mildly surprised that Deen was willing to test this new thing. This wasn’t on the radar until moments ago. “Oh, really? I’m sorry I didn’t help much.”

  Deen wiggled her toes at me. They brushed against my lips. “Do you have any other idea what to do?” she asked while blushing.

  “Maybe it needs a gentler massage,” I suggested. “Since I don’t know what I’m doing, my fingers are probably just making things worse. What if… I used my tongue?”

  “Tongue?” Deen almost coughed up the word. The skin on her neck reddened. She was surely already imagining all sorts of degenerate stuff. “Yes, I want—erm, do yo-you think that’s going to work? Doesn’t sound very scientific…”

  “We won’t know if we don’t try, right? As for being scientific, the tongue is way softer than fingers. There you go.”

  “I suppose so…” She eagerly nodded. “Please do it?”

  I grinned. “You’re agreeing, just like that? Aren’t you going to suspect, like, if I’m just pranking you? I’m your older sister, after all. This might be—”

  “Lick my foot already!” Deen half-shouted, her tone turning insistent.

  “Quite down!” I hissed. “Geez, can’t you control yourself? What if Mom heard you?”

  “If she did, I’d kill myself to escape embarrassment.” Deen raised a finger and faced the door. “Nothing? It’s fine. Now, can we move the scene along?”

  “Yeah, yeah. I’m going to lick your feet.” On the one hand, these were plus points for Deen. She found a new fetish and was enjoying it. Additionally, this was a power play in her favor. I’d literally lick her feet. But, on the other hand, I had something to dangle over Deen. Sex was power. In my assessment, I was marginally coming out on top here.

  “God, I want to see you do it,” Deen said, sounding like a horny teenager. “I’ve never thought of this before, but I really, really want it now. Please—oh!”

  I licked the entire length of her sole, slowly dragging my tongue from her heel to her toes. It tasted… mostly nothing. Skin didn’t really taste much unless it was salty with sweat.

  “I hope my foot isn’t dirty,” Deen breathlessly said. “I should’ve washed it before. Oh my gosh, this is so embarrassing.” And yet, she didn’t pull her foot away.

  “It’s fine. You’re clean,” I said before sucking on the fleshing bit just below her big toe. Then I returned to licking her sole because I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing. If only I knew this would happen, I would’ve watched videos about it.

  Then I switched to nibbling the sides of her feet while Deen complained about not getting a foot spa earlier. She also ranted about all the walking we did, making her feet tougher. I didn’t know why she was so concerned about it—she didn’t have any calluses on her foot. Really, an awesome feel in my mouth as I returned to sucking parts of her foot while intentionally avoiding her toes.

  She quieted down. She intently looked at what I was doing while shifting her foot to offer me her toes. I wasn’t sure if Deen realized how demanding she could be at times. Sometimes, she expected me to immediately comply with her wants as if I were her servant… or sex slave?

  This was probably because of her upbringing that she wasn’t right in the head.

  I stopped my ‘tongue-massage’ and put her foot down. “Sis, what are you doing?”

  Deen had her hand between her legs, pleasuring herself through her shorts. Her closed eyes flung open. “I couldn’t help it. I didn’t know it’d feel this good. Please—”

  “You just can’t help yourself, can you?” Sitting on my heels, I straightened myself and glowered at her. I felt like a movie director getting irritated at actors not following instructions. I threw her a blanket. “There. Your hands seem cold. Cover them.”

  “Ye-yes… You’re right.” She draped the blanket around her middle. Her hand dove right under. We both knew what she was doing there—vigorously scrubbing dishes. “I appreciate you doing this for me.”

  “Enjoy yourself,” I dryly said as I started to suck her toes.