This story is inspired by true events and reflects the general nature of the experiences and conversations described. However, all names, dates, locations, and identifying details have been altered for privacy and narrative purposes. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to real events is purely coincidental.
A few days after that unforgettable night, my phone buzzed with a text from Hương while I was at work. It was simple, but it sent heat straight through me:
Hương: “Anh… I can’t stop thinking about you. About us. When can I see you again? Mai is suspicious I came home so late. We have to be careful… but I need you.”
I smiled at the screen, my pulse already racing. I typed back carefully, keeping it discreet but letting her feel the promise.
Me: “I need you too, em. More than you know. Let’s make it soon. Somewhere private. Just us.”
We texted back and forth over the next day, careful not to leave anything too obvious on our phones. She told me Mai had asked why she was glowing the next morning, why she’d walked funny for a day—Hương had laughed it off as a long workout, but it made her nervous. They shared everything, lived together, worked together. A repeat at the salon after hours was too risky now.
Finally, we settled on the perfect plan: a quiet weekday afternoon when the salon was slowest. Hương would book me in as her last client of the day, but this time at 4 p.m. on a Tuesday—early enough that Mai would leave at closing time like usual, none the wiser. Hương would tell her sister she had inventory to finish alone and would lock up after. I’d arrive right at closing, park around back where the staff entrance was hidden from the street.
She sent me a voice note that night, her voice low and breathy in Vietnamese-tinged English: “I’ll wear the red skirt you like… no panties this time, anh. I want you the second the door locks. I’ve been wet all week just remembering how you felt inside me.”
My reply was simple: “I’ll bring something special for you too, em. Be ready.”
The plan was set for the following Tuesday.
Tuesday finally arrived; the anticipation had been building all week through our careful, heated texts. I parked around the back of the salon just after 5:15 p.m., the lot empty except for Hương’s car. The front blinds were already drawn, the “Closed” sign up. My pulse was racing as I approached the staff door. She buzzed me in almost instantly.
The moment the door clicked shut behind me, she was there—wearing that tight red skirt I loved, mid-thigh and clinging to her curves, paired with a low-cut black blouse that plunged deep between her heavy D-cups. No bra again, nipples already visible through the thin fabric. She locked the door, turned to me, and the pretense evaporated. Her dark eyes were burning. “Anh…” she breathed, stepping close.
I pulled her into my arms and kissed her hard, backing her straight toward the massage room. Our mouths barely parted as we stumbled through the doorway, hands already roaming. She tasted like mint and desperate want. I lifted her easily onto the table, pushing her skirt up around her hips—just as she’d promised, no panties. Her black-haired pussy was already glistening, lips swollen and ready, the soft curls framing her tight entrance.
I dropped to my knees between her spread thighs and devoured her first. My tongue parted those lush curls, lapping slowly up her slit, savoring the tangy sweetness I’d craved for days. She moaned loudly, fingers tangling in my hair as I sucked her clit, flicking it in rapid circles while sliding two fingers into her super tight heat. She came fast the first time—hips bucking, thighs clamping around my head, a rush of wetness coating my tongue as she cried out in Vietnamese, “Em lên… anh làm em sướng quá…”
I stood, shedding my clothes quickly while she watched, chest heaving, breasts jiggling with every breath. When my thick cock sprang free, her eyes widened with that same mix of hunger and slight apprehension as before. I poured the warm massage oil I’d brought into my palms, rubbing them together before gliding my hands over her body—slow, sensual strokes across her breasts, thumbs circling her nipples until they were slick and gleaming, then down her belly, over her hips. She arched into every touch, small shivers running through her.
I entered her slowly, watching her face as her tight pussy stretched around me again—inch by thick inch, the oil making us glide while her walls gripped like velvet fire. Once fully seated, I started with long, deep thrusts. Her large breasts swayed and jiggled hypnotically with every stroke—heavy D-cups bouncing up toward her chin before slapping softly back down, the oil making them glisten under the dim light. The sight drove me harder.
Her second orgasm hit like a storm—body tensing, pussy clamping down in brutal spasms, squirting around my cock as she screamed my name, nails raking my shoulders. I kept going through it, flipping her onto her stomach for the third. Her breasts pressed into the table, spilling out to the sides, quivering as I took her from behind. One hand snaked beneath to rub her clit furiously while I pounded deep. She buried her face in the sheet, muffled cries turning to desperate pleas—“Mạnh nữa anh… em là của anh…”—until she shattered again, even harder, her whole-body convulsing, another flood of wetness soaking us both.
She was still riding the aftershocks, breath coming in ragged, labored gasps, when a soft voice broke the air—spoken in lilting Vietnamese from the doorway behind us.
“Em nói đúng thật chị ơi… anh ấy to thật đấy. Có vừa không chị?”
(You told the truth, sister… he’s really big. Does it fit?)
My head snapped around. Mai stood there, eyes wide and dark with lust, lips parted in a small, knowing smile. She had clearly been watching from the shadows—how long, I didn’t know, but the hunger on her face said long enough.
Hương froze beneath me for only a heartbeat, then let out a shaky, breathless laugh, her pussy still fluttering around my cock.
Mai stepped forward without hesitation, her lithe frame moving with that cat-like grace. As she reached the table, she wrapped her slender fingers around the base of my shaft—still buried deep inside her sister—and gave a slow, experimental squeeze. The sensation made me groan. She tugged gently, pulling me free inch by inch until I slipped out with a wet sound, a thick strand of Hương’s arousal stretching between us before breaking.
Mai bent at the waist, her long black hair cascading forward, and pressed a soft kiss to the slick head of my cock. Then she took me into her mouth—warm, wet, expert—tongue swirling deliberately, tasting her sister’s juices with slow, savoring licks. Her eyes flicked up to meet mine as she sucked, cheeks hollowing, cleaning every trace of Hương from my length. After a few delicious seconds, she popped off with a soft, wet sound and guided me straight back into Hương’s waiting pussy, her hand lingering to feel me slide home.
She leaned close to my ear and whispered in English, voice husky, “Fuck her good.”
That was all the permission I needed.
I started thrusting again—slow, deep, deliberate strokes into Hương’s dripping heat—while turning my attention to Mai. I pulled her to me, capturing her mouth in a fierce kiss. She tasted different from her sister—sweeter, sharper—and she kissed back hungrily, tongue sliding against mine as my hands went to work.
I unbuttoned her blouse one button at a time, kissing every inch of golden skin I exposed: the delicate line of her throat, the sharp edge of her collarbone, the soft upper swells of her firm B-cups. Her breasts were smaller but perfectly pert, nipples already stiff and begging. As I peeled the blouse from her shoulders and let it fall, I bent to take one nipple into my mouth, sucking hard while my hips kept their steady rhythm into Hương.
With every slow, powerful thrust into her sister, Hương’s large D-cups jiggled and bounced hypnotically—full, heavy orbs swaying side to side, rippling softly, the motion amplified by the oil still gleaming on her skin. The sight was mesmerizing: breasts quaking in time with my strokes, nipples tracing wide arcs, slapping gently together on deeper thrusts while she moaned beneath me, eyes locked on Mai and me.
I slid Mai’s skirt down her slim hips, kissing my way lower—over her flat belly, the subtle curve of her hip bones—until it pooled at her feet. No panties either, just her smooth, toned body bare and ready. I traced my lips along the neat trim of her pubic hair, then lower, but saved tasting her for later. My hands roamed her long legs, her tight ass, as I continued driving into Hương, the room filled with the wet sounds of flesh meeting flesh and the sisters’ mingled moans.
Mai pressed herself against my side, one hand reaching down to cup Hương’s jiggling breast, thumb flicking her sister’s nipple in time with my thrusts, while her other hand tangled in my hair, pulling me back up for another deep, breathless kiss.
The air was thick with heat, scent, and the electric knowledge that this secret had just grown into something wilder, hungrier—and neither sister showed any sign of wanting it to stop.
Mai straddled my left side, her lithe body pressed against me, long legs draped over my thigh as I continued thrusting slow and deep into Hương. My free hand slid down the smooth curve of Mai’s back, over the firm swell of her ass, fingers tracing the warm cleft between her cheeks. She was already dripping—her arousal slick and hot as I parted her from behind. Two fingers slipped easily into her soaking pussy, gathering her abundant juices until they were coated and glistening.
I drew my hand higher, trailing wetness upward, and pressed my slick index finger against her tight sphincter. At first her body resisted instinctively—the ring of muscle clenching hard, a reflexive barrier against the intrusion. I circled slowly, patiently, letting the pressure build while whispering soft reassurances in her ear. Then, gradually, I felt it: the tension easing, her ring fluttering, then finally surrendering with a soft, yielding pop as my finger slid past the tight entrance and sank knuckle-deep into the velvety heat of her ass. She gasped sharply, her whole body tensing then melting against me, a low moan vibrating in her throat.
I hooked that finger inside her, using it to hold her up slightly—her weight partially supported by the intimate grip—as I drove harder into Hương. Each thrust into her sister made Hương’s heavy breasts jiggle wildly, oil-slicked D-cups bouncing and slapping together, her moans rising again toward another peak.
Mai’s breathing grew ragged, soft whimpers escaping as my finger flexed inside her ass. I leaned close to her ear and whispered, “Eat your sister’s pussy, Mai.”
She stiffened, shaking her head quickly. “No way,” she breathed, voice trembling with a mix of shock and arousal.
I responded by pushing my finger deeper—slow, deliberate pressure until it was buried to the hilt. She gasped loudly, back arching, her tight ring clenching around the intrusion. I tangled my other hand in her long black hair, pulling her head back firmly but not cruelly, tilting her face up to mine.
“Eat your sister’s pussy,” I commanded again, voice low and unyielding, “or I won’t fuck yours.”
Her eyes widened, dark and glassy with lust, lips parted. She hesitated only a second before nodding, the fight melting out of her.
I pulled out of Hương’s gushing pussy with a wet sound—her arousal dripping from my cock—and shifted Mai forward. Still gripping her hair, I guided her head down between Hương’s spread thighs while keeping my finger firmly embedded in her ass for leverage. Hương moaned in anticipation, hips lifting slightly as Mai’s mouth hovered inches from her sister’s swollen, hairy folds.
Hương’s reaction unfolded in layers, a mix of shock, arousal, and something deeper—raw, uninhibited surrender—that seemed to surprise even her.
At the exact moment Mai’s tongue first touched her sister’s swollen clit, Hương’s eyes flew open wide. Her body went rigid beneath Mai’s mouth, a sharp intake of breath catching in her throat as if she couldn’t decide whether to pull away or push closer. For a split second, pure astonishment flashed across her face—cheeks flushing darker, lips parted in a silent gasp, dark eyes darting from Mai’s bowed head to me, as if seeking confirmation that this was really happening.
Then the pleasure hit.
Her head fell back against the padded table with a soft thud, eyes fluttering shut, a low, trembling moan escaping her lips—“Mai… trời ơi…”—half protest, half plea. Her hands, which had hovered uncertainly in the air, slowly lowered to tangle in Mai’s long black hair—not pushing her away, but guiding, pressing her sister closer. Her hips began to rock instinctively, grinding against Mai’s mouth in slow, needy circles.
With Mai bent forward, ass raised toward me, I lined the thick head of my cock up with her entrance. She was impossibly tight—even wetter and narrower than Hương, her petite frame making the difference stark. I pressed forward slowly; the head met resistance, her lips stretching around my girth as she quivered violently. I had to work it in—short, insistent thrusts, pulling back and pushing deeper each time, feeling her walls flutter and fight before gradually yielding. Every inch gained made her tremble harder, the dual sensation of my thick cock stretching her pussy while my finger filled her ass from behind sending shudders through her entire body.
Mai whimpered into Hương’s pussy as her tongue finally made contact—tentative at first, then more eager—lapping at her sister’s clit while I continued the slow, relentless invasion. When I finally sank fully inside her, bottoming out in that vice-like heat, Mai’s whole body shook uncontrollably, a muffled cry vibrating against Hương as the overwhelming fullness in both holes pushed her to the edge of surrender.
Hương’s hands flew to Mai’s hair, guiding her sister’s mouth harder against her, hips bucking as another orgasm began to build. The room filled with the sounds of wet licking, muffled moans, and the rhythmic slap of my hips finally meeting Mai’s ass as I claimed her completely—two sisters now bound together in pleasure, both utterly mine.
Mai’s first orgasm hit her like a sudden summer storm—intense, overwhelming, and completely out of her control.
She was bent forward over the massage table, face buried between Hương’s thighs, tongue lapping obediently at her sister’s swollen clit while I held, still gripping her long black hair in one hand and keeping my finger buried deep in her tight ass with the other, finally worked the full length of my thick cock into her impossibly narrow pussy. The stretch was exquisite; her walls fluttered and clenched around me in frantic pulses, trying to adjust to the girth that filled her so completely.
I held still for a moment once I was fully seated, letting her feel every inch—cock throbbing inside her slick heat, finger flexing gently in her ass, the dual penetration making her entire body tremble. Hương was moaning beneath her, hips rocking up against Mai’s mouth, but Mai’s own sounds were muffled—desperate little whimpers vibrating against her sister’s folds as her slender frame shook.
Then I started to move.
Slow at first, long strokes that dragged my cock almost all the way out before sliding back in, the head nudging deep against her cervix while my finger twisted and curled inside her ass. Each thrust pushed her face harder against Hương, forcing her tongue deeper, and the rhythm built fast. Mai’s thighs began to quiver uncontrollably, her back arching, ass pushing back against my hips as if chasing more.
Her breathing turned ragged—sharp, frantic gasps around Hương’s pussy—until suddenly her whole body locked up. A low, keening cry tore from her throat, muffled against wet flesh, as the orgasm crashed through her. Her pussy clamped down viciously on my cock in hard, rhythmic spasms—so tight it almost hurt—milking me with every wave. At the same time, her ass clenched around my finger in perfect sync, the ring fluttering wildly as if trying to pull me deeper.
She squirted—hard—a hot rush of clear fluid gushing out around my shaft, soaking my balls and dripping down both our thighs in thick rivulets. Her legs buckled; only my grip on her hair and the finger in her ass kept her upright as she shook violently, every muscle trembling, toes curling against the floor. Tears streamed down her flushed cheeks, smearing into Hương’s wetness as she kept licking through the haze, unable to stop even as her own pleasure overwhelmed her.
The orgasm seemed to last forever—wave after wave ripping through her lithe body, leaving her gasping and sobbing softly, pussy still fluttering in aftershocks long after the initial explosion. When it finally began to ebb, she collapsed forward onto Hương, forehead resting on her sister’s belly, chest heaving, small shudders still running through her as she whispered in a broken, awed voice:
“Trời ơi… em chưa bao giờ… sướng thế này…”
(God… I’ve never… come like this…)
Hương stroked her hair gently, a knowing smile on her lips, while I stayed buried inside Mai—feeling every last tremor ripple through her—knowing this was only the beginning.
I continued thrusting into Mai from behind, each deep stroke pushed Mai’s face harder against Hương’s pussy. That rhythm turned Hương’s moans into broken cries. Her heavy D-cups, still slick with oil, jiggled wildly with every indirect thrust I delivered through her sister’s body—heaving up toward her chin, then bouncing back down with soft, rhythmic slaps that echoed in the small room. Her nipples were rock-hard, dark peaks straining as her back arched off the table.
When Mai’s own orgasm crashed through her—pussy clamping down on my cock, body shaking violently—the vibration of Mai’s muffled screams against Hương’s clit sent Hương spiraling. Her eyes snapped open again, locking onto mine over Mai’s trembling back. Tears welled at the corners, not from pain but from overwhelming intensity. “Anh… em… em không chịu nổi…” she whimpered, voice cracking, before her entire body seized.
Her third orgasm (or fourth? she’d lost count) exploded through her harder than any before. Her pussy gushed against Mai’s tongue, thighs clamping around her sister’s head, hips bucking so hard she nearly lifted Mai off the floor. A raw, guttural cry tore from her throat—part scream, part sob—as wave after wave ripped through her, breasts quaking uncontrollably, toes curling, fingers clutching Mai’s hair like a lifeline.
When it finally subsided, she went limp, chest heaving, tears streaking down her temples into her hair. But instead of shame or withdrawal, a slow, dazed smile curved her lips. She reached down to gently stroke Mai’s cheek, then looked up at me with eyes glazed in blissful shock.
“Em chưa bao giờ… nghĩ sẽ thế này…” she whispered hoarsely. (I never thought… it would be like this…)
There was no jealousy, no regret—only a deep, trembling acceptance, and the unmistakable spark of hunger for more. In that moment, whatever boundaries had once existed between the sisters had dissolved completely in the heat we’d created together.
Mai was delirious after the string of multiple orgasms that had torn through her slender body—each one more intense than the last, leaving her trembling and gasping, her mind a haze of white-hot pleasure. Her breathing had been restricted for minutes, face slammed rhythmically into Hương’s engorged pussy with every powerful thrust I drove into her from behind. Hương lay limp beneath her on the table, chest heaving, eyes half-lidded in blissful exhaustion, yet still gently rocking her hips to savor the lazy, devoted laps of Mai’s tongue against her swollen folds.
I felt the familiar surge building, my cock swelling thicker inside Mai’s impossibly tight channel. She sensed it instantly—her eyes snapped open wide, dark and glassy with a mix of alarm and overwhelming sensation as the extra girth stretched her walls to a point they had never been expanded before. The pressure was exquisite, her petite Asian pussy gripping me like a vice, every vein on my shaft pulsing against her fluttering inner muscles.
She tried to cry out, but with her mouth pressed hard against Hương’s dripping cunt, the sound came out as a muffled, desperate scream—vibrating straight through Hương’s clit and making her sister moan softly in response. That vibration, that final overwhelming stretch, pushed me over the edge. I buried myself to the hilt and erupted—rope after thick rope of hot cum flooding her depths. There was so little room inside her super-narrow passage that it filled her completely, pressure building until it had nowhere to go but out, squirting forcefully around my thick cock in creamy white spurts that coated her thighs and dripped onto the floor.
The intensity shattered her. Mai’s brain went dark—pleasure short-circuiting every thought—as her body gave out entirely. She slumped forward with a weak, shuddering whimper, held up only by the way my huge cock impaled her, keeping her bent over the table. Her knees buckled completely, legs going limp, and she literally dangled there—face still buried between Hương’s thighs, arms hanging loose, the full weight of her lithe frame supported by that single, deep connection and the edge of the table beneath her hips.
Hương reached down instinctively, fingers threading through Mai’s sweat-damp hair to steady her sister’s head, cradling it gently against her pussy as soft aftershocks continued to ripple through both of them. Mai’s eyes fluttered shut, breath coming in shallow, ragged pants against Hương’s slick skin, completely spent and lost to the overwhelming ecstasy we’d all shared.
I pulled out of Mai slowly, my cock slick and throbbing as a thick torrent of my cum immediately gushed from her stretched pussy—white ropes mixed with her own juices spilling down her thighs in heavy streams, pooling on the floor beneath the table. Her body gave a final, weak shudder, knees buckling completely. She slumped forward, limp and boneless, her face still pressed between Hương’s thighs, held up only by the way she was draped over the edge of the table and impaled moments before. Hương, still floating in her own haze, gently stroked Mai’s hair, murmuring soft Vietnamese endearments as her sister went slack.
I wasn’t going to let her collapse like that.
I slid my arms beneath Mai’s trembling body—one under her shoulders, the other under her hips—and lifted her easily. She was light, her long limbs dangling, head lolling against my chest as I carried her the few steps to the second massage table in the corner of the room. Her breathing was shallow and ragged, eyes closed, completely passed out from the overload of sensation—multiple orgasms, the restriction against Hương’s pussy, and the final, overwhelming stretch and flood deep inside her.
I laid her down gently on the clean sheet, her lithe frame sinking into the padding. She looked so small and fragile in that moment—golden skin flushed deep pink across her chest and cheeks, lips swollen, a faint sheen of sweat making her glow under the dim light. Cum still leaked slowly from between her thighs, tracing pale paths down her toned legs.
I grabbed a stack of warm towels from the warmer nearby and started with the softest care.
First, I wiped her face tenderly—dabbing away the mixture of tears, sweat, and Hương’s arousal from her cheeks, forehead, and lips. I pressed a light kiss to her temple as I worked, whispering, “You were perfect, em… rest now.” Then down her neck, across her collarbones, lingering over her firm B-cups—circling each small, dark nipple with the warm cloth until she sighed faintly in her unconscious state, her body instinctively relaxing under the gentle touch.
I moved lower, parting her legs carefully to clean between them. The towel came away soaked with our combined release, so I used fresh ones—slow, reverent strokes over her swollen pussy, wiping away the mess without ever being rough on her tender, over-sensitized flesh. Every time the cloth brushed her clit, her hips gave a tiny, involuntary twitch, even in her passed-out state. I cleaned the insides of her thighs, the curve of her ass, making sure she was comfortable and cared for.
When she was clean, I draped a light blanket over her lower body, then climbed onto the table beside her. I pulled her into my arms, her back against my chest, one arm wrapped securely around her waist, the other cradling her head against my shoulder. She melted into me immediately—still out cold, but her breathing deepening, steadying, her body seeking the warmth and safety instinctively.
I stroked her hair in slow, soothing motions, fingers combing through the long black strands, occasionally brushing down her arm or tracing idle circles on her belly. I kissed the top of her head, her shoulder, the delicate spot behind her ear—small, grounding touches to let her subconscious know she was safe, cherished, protected. Every few minutes a faint tremor would run through her—aftershocks still rippling from the intensity—and I’d tighten my hold, murmuring soft reassurances against her skin: “I’ve got you… you’re okay… you were incredible.”
Hương watched us from the other table for a while, a soft, almost maternal smile on her lips, before quietly slipping over to join us. She curled up on Mai’s other side, resting a gentle hand on her sister’s hip, completing the cocoon of warmth around her.
Mai stayed passed out for nearly twenty minutes, her body gradually relaxing fully, the flush fading from her skin, breathing slow and even. When her eyes finally fluttered open—glassy and dazed at first—she turned her head slightly toward me, a small, exhausted smile curving her lips.
“Anh…” she whispered, voice hoarse, barely audible.
I kissed her forehead. “Right here, em. I’ve got you.”
She let out a soft, contented sigh and drifted again—not unconscious this time, just deeply, peacefully resting in our arms, surrounded by the quiet intimacy of what we’d all just shared.
After that first explosive Tuesday, the dynamic shifted completely. Both sisters knew, without a word needing to be spoken, that they belonged to me now. The way Hương’s eyes softened when I touched her cheek, the way Mai instinctively leaned into my hand when I brushed her hair back; it wasn’t just lust anymore. It was surrender. Delicious, total surrender.
We stayed tangled together on the massage tables for almost an hour, trading slow kisses, gentle caresses, whispered Vietnamese endearments. I cleaned them both again with warm towels, dressed them the same reverent way I always did, and walked them to their cars. Before they drove off, I pulled them close, one arm around each waist.
“Saturday night,” I said quietly, voice low and certain. “I’m coming to your house. I’ll stay until Monday morning. Pack nothing. Just be ready for me.”
Hương bit her lip and nodded. Mai’s breath hitched, a shy, excited smile breaking across her face. “Vâng anh…” they answered in unison (Yes, darling…).
Saturday, 7 p.m.
I pulled into their quiet suburban driveway carrying a single black duffel bag. They met me at the door wearing only matching silk robes (crimson for Hương, black for Mai), barefoot, hair loose, eyes already glassy with anticipation.
The moment the door closed behind me, I dropped the bag, cupped both their chins, and kissed them deeply, first Hương, then Mai, tasting the faint sweetness of the wine, they’d shared while waiting.
“From now until I leave Monday morning,” I told them, “you are mine to tie, tease, and take however I want. Safe-word is ‘đỏ’ (red). Say it once and everything stops. Otherwise… no limits. Understood?”
Two soft, eager “Vâng anh…” whispers answered me.
I led them to the master bedroom they’d prepared exactly as I’d instructed: lights dimmed to a warm amber glow, king bed stripped to just a fitted sheet, eye-bolts discreetly installed in the headboard and footboard, soft music playing low.
Inside the duffel:
• coils of deep-red Shibari rope
• silk blindfolds
• leather cuffs
• a wand vibrator
• nipple clamps with delicate chains
• warmed massage oil
• a bottle of chilled sparkling wine and three glasses
Over the next thirty-six hours I took them places they’d never imagined.
Saturday night was slow, sensual bondage: I tied Hương first, arms stretched overhead to the headboard, ankles spread and bound to the corners, her voluptuous body displayed like a gift. Mai knelt beside her, blindfolded, wrists cuffed behind her back, while I used feathers, ice, and my tongue on Hương until she was sobbing with need. Then I let Mai lick her sister to a shattering orgasm while I took Mai from behind again, the three of us moving as one endless loop of pleasure.
Sunday morning was stricter: Mai suspended in an intricate chest-and-hip harness, toes barely touching the floor, while Hương lay beneath her on the bed. I alternated fucking one while the other was forced to watch, blindfolded and bound, until both were begging in broken English and Vietnamese, voices hoarse from screaming my name.
Sunday afternoon was pure overload: Both sisters on their backs side-by-side, ankles tied high and wide to a spreader bar, wrists cuffed to each other above their heads. I edged them for hours, wand on low, fingers, tongue, cock, never letting them tip over until they were shaking, tears of desperate need streaking their faces. When I finally allowed release, they came together in a single, violent wave, squirting so hard the sheets were drenched, bodies arching off the bed in perfect, synchronized surrender.
By Sunday night they were limp, glowing, marked with faint rope patterns and love bites, curled against me on the couch in nothing but my T-shirts, feeding me bites of mango and sips of wine between soft, sleepy kisses.
Before I left Monday morning, I pulled them both into the shower, washed them slowly under the steaming water, dressed them again with the same reverent care I always did, and kissed them each one last time at the door.
“You’re mine now,” I told them, thumb brushing Hương’s lower lip, then Mai’s. “Whenever I want. However, I want.”
They answered together, voices soft but certain:
“Vâng anh… we are yours.”
And I walked out knowing I’d be back the next weekend, and the one after that, and the one after that, until the three of us had explored every dark, beautiful fantasy they’d never dared dream.
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