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.”Natalie’s distracted gaze instead focused on the intimate view down her sister’s low-cut lingerie, admiring the deep, inviting cleavage. Jenny continued to slowly twirl the pencil, her soothing voice trying to lull the younger girl into a slumbering state of mind. Natalie suppressed a grin. While Jenny’s amazing tits offered an undeniable mesmerizing effect, the trick with the pencil was producing no results at all. But she decided to have a little fun with her know-it-all older sister, pretending she was hypnotized, just to see what Jen might tell her to do. “Relaxed...” Natalie murmured in agreement, letting her eyelids droop with a fake flutter. “Fading... No limits...”After a moment, Jenny put the pencil aside, leaning in close to peer into Natalie’s unfocused eyes. She waved her hand in front of Natalie’s face, but the younger girl didn’t flinch or respond, only sighing as if lost in a trance. “Now reach into your subconscious,” Jenny coaxed in a hushed tone. “Tell me. She had to push my legs apart and I knew I was fully erect before her hand touched my bulge.She reached inside the leg of my briefs and pulled that hard fleshy shaft into view and she blew gently against my cut tip. A chill ran up my spine and then her lips closed around the tip of my cock, warm and wet. My eyes popped open and I was staring at the ceiling. I had fallen asleep on my sister’s guest bed after having one too many glasses of the rum punch she had made for her son’s 21st birthday party.The dream was beyond any that I had experienced. The vision of my sister crawling between my legs was exactly as I imagined her in my mind, and the feeling of her lips on my cock was complete with detail and the warm wetness. And as the dream faded and my mind began to clear from the fog of the rum punch my cock throbbed and the wetness and feeling of sexual pleasure flooded into my reality.I looked down, there was a woman’s head bobbing up and down on my shaft, her brunette hair cascaded.
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He speaks out: ‘I remember you. You have been there every day. I wanted to thank you for looking after me, even though you don’t like me. I’d get you flowers, but I wouldn’t know who to give them to. Anyway, thanks.’ Nathan’s sister sees her tears, and smiles at her. She pushes his wheelchair down the hall, then feeds him a shit excuse, and walks back to the room. Chantelle is still there, sitting down in a chair. She almost hates herself, she tells herself she is being silly, unable to actually talk to him, to tell him she doesn’t hate him, that she loves him. Her hand stalls to her lips at that last, she hadn’t admitted it to herself, and her tears fall fresh as Nathans sister passes the doorframe. They talk, they share. They almost become fast friends. The sister knows, Chantelle knows she knows. She invites her to the third wedding, the day for that most ominous of bachelor’s nights. Chantelle says she was invited anyway, but please don’t tell him I knew he was here. The sister.

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