I was asleep in our bed when I heard the lock turn. Sleepy eyes, I slipped out of bed, and pulled on my robe to peek into the living room. Erin had come through the door, dragging her suitcases, laptop slung over her shoulder. She saw me and grinned and we skipped across the room to embrace.

Erin is Mistress Salome's other sub. In many ways, we are different. I work in a local office as a junior executive. I am home every night. My sister sub is a globe hopper who spends most of her life on the road. I am petite with olive skin and dark brown curls, full lips, and a defined, taut body. Erin is full-bodied, tall, and blonde with fair skin and freckles, with curves to burn. Her skin is smooth as cream and so soft but she is strong as we hold each other, and our lips meet for the soft, passionate kiss of long parted lovers. Our kiss broke, and I asked her about Indonesia.

“I can't talk about it,” she said with a sad smile. “But I brought you something and something for Mistress. Where is Salome?”

“On the West Coast, on business, like you,” I said sadly. Erin never talked about her work. "It's a secret. She was supposed to get back today, but there was a problem with the plane, and the flight was overbooked, so She may stay an extra day. It's all up in the air, while She is not.”

Erin's brow furrowed, she is so pretty, her hair reddish-blonde and almost to her waist. “I was hoping to see Her, but I get it. I have three full days though,” she added with a grin. “Plenty of time for us to get reacquainted.” And her hand slid under the taffeta of my robe to stroke my bottom, fingertips wandering. “No large welts,” she said. “Mistress has been good to you.”

“Are there any on yours,” I asked with a grin. Our Owner does not restrict her girls.

“No,” she said. “I only play in Western Europe. It's dangerous enough there, though there's a club in Vienna I really want to take you both to.”

“A club,” I said, eyebrows raised in curiosity.

“It's a bar in front,” she said, unbuttoning her blouse. “In the back, a full-featured dungeon. People go there to play and to watch.”

“Did you play while you were there?”

“No. But I watched. I most certainly did that. And a met a lovely young artist, very expressive work. I bought a watercolor,” she said. “I need to go to the frame shop while I'm there,” and she wriggled out of her blouse, revealing a pale blue bra holding up her full, soft breasts.”

I knelt beside her, unzipping her skirt, sliding it over her hips, and then undid the garters of her stockings. I marveled at her curves but resisted the temptation to kiss her soft thighs. Instead, she set her left foot on a chair so I could peel down her stockings. And I gave in and ran my tongue along her thigh.

“You're insatiable, sis,” she said with a giggle. “And if I weren't so whipped I'd be tempted to show you what I brought for Mistress.”

“Oh, you got her something . . . intimate?” I batted my eyes at her as I moved to help her out of her other stocking.

“Let's just say she'll really like it. In fact, I'm certain we all really enjoy it.”

I lay her stockings over the back of the chair and gathered up her skirt while she tossed her blouse into the hamper. Off came her pale blue panties and them too. Mistress wants Her property to sleep nude unless otherwise instructed. I hung up my robe and we headed for our bed together. She lifted the soft sheets and slid into bed, and I came in right behind her after putting out the light. She lay on her back and I wrapped myself around her on my side, my head resting on her shoulder, my fingertips softly stroking the underside of her so full breasts.

No one spoke, she lay back softy breathing. I kissed her shoulder and softly stroked. Outside the Manhattan skyline glowed in multi-colored on the buildings. Planes blinked as they flew above New York.

Erin softly sighed, shifting a bit, seeking comfort. I thought she would sleep as I lay beside her, touching my sister. And then her left hand stole over to slide up my right thigh and hip, up to run her fingers alongside my breast. And then she turned again, to kiss me.

This was not a “good to see you” kiss. This was a kiss of a woman of passion. Erin is the most passive of us, but her tongue slid between my lips to tease mine out. She rolled me on my back, easily given how much bigger she was than me, and I felt her big, soft breasts upon my own, her hip pressed between my thigh, pressing on my now tingling cunt, rolling her hips and softly undulating. My hands went to her hair, to run my fingers through the soft blonde hair, so full and pretty as I welcomed her kisses and her hands gliding across my shoulders. I rise my thigh to meet her sex and gently we ground, bringing sweet, rhythmic pleasure to each other's mound.

“Oh, God, I've missed you,” she said, rising up, knowing what I crave, she slid upward to feed me her enormous right breast. I held it in both hands as I ran my tongue and teeth about her skin.

Erin once told me that young, she didn't like having her breasts touched. She felt that her breasts were what mattered about her, and she hated that. Then Mistress introduced her to the crop and with it sweet pain, and the contradiction between the blows of the crop and stinging welts and the sweetness of my tongue upon her slit.

With each strike, each moan, each cry, and I like to think each sweep of my tongue Erin was able to reclaim her breasts, to see herself as beautiful. I could feel the small ridges in the soft flesh Mistress had left there still, but most of all I tasted Erin, so full and curvaceous, the perfect counterpart to my lean, compact body. I squeeze her nipples between my teeth and tugged and she shifted again, her fingers sliding into me, two fingers, pushing thrusting rutting and working me. Erin made my hips pump, made my pussy drip made me hunger, made it nigh-impossible to concentrate on her delicious chest, but I did.

And then she rose up and slid back, her legs open, lacing with mine as she pressed her bare cunt to mine. Hers was rich, with big, pink puffy lips that blossomed like a tulip in the spring. And it shined, even though she does not lubricate as freely as I do, and then she was on me, adjusting her pose until our pussies pressed tight.

Slit to slit and clit to clit we ground ourselves together, hips moving in an intricate dance, so the pressure, oh the sweet press of her on me, the mingling of our juices, linked as sisters do, up on our arms so we can put some weight into this sensual waltz of joy, grinding, pressing, her mouth falling open as our breathing deepened. Her blue eyes locked on my brown, watching studying each other as our deep breath turned to moans and our cunts tongue turned into a flood of pleasure.

I came first, screaming aloud, thankful for the sound deadening between our neighbor condos. But neither stopped and finally, Erin shuddered, her breasts shaking so delightfully as the joy flooded her body and her pussy pressed so sweetly to mine.

We stopped then, gently grinding, eyes still on each other as the aftershocks passed through our bodies. I licked my lips in hunger for my sister.

“Who gave you permission to start without me,” said a rich, feminine voice from the doorway.

“Mistress,” Erin and I said in chorus. And we looked back to see Salome's silhouette in the doorway.