The Ugly Sister (Part 1)

Status: Finished

The Ugly Sister (Part 1)

Status: Finished

The Ugly Sister (Part 1) The Ugly Sister (Part 1)

Book by: chloecomplains


Genre: Erotica


Modest Tee is in for a surprise when she moves into her sister's home--in a swingers' community.


Modest Tee is in for a surprise when she moves into her sister's home--in a swingers' community.

Chapter1 (v.1) - The Ugly Sister

Author Chapter Note

Modest Kay is in for a surprise when she moves into her sister's home--in a swingers' community.

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: May 14, 2015

Reads: 4031

Comments: 3

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Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: May 14, 2015



My hands are on Simon's bare chest. I'm not sure how they got there. I'm pretty sure they shouldn't be there, but I can't seem to move them away. We're in bed, so maybe I'm confused because I've just woken up.

Simon is staring at me, his eyelids heavy over his beautiful brown eyes. It's so dark I can't see that rich chestnut fading to honey at the edges, but I can imagine it just fine. I don't need to imagine the proper color for his hair, it is always black, skirting on the edges of midnight blue. It is overgrown now, shaggy from a month of vacation—where did we go? Why is my brain so fuzzy?—so it hangs down over my face.

He is above me. His firm, perfectly sculpted chest quivers at my touch. His hands grip my hips firmly. It is only when he rocks against me that I notice he's inside me. This isn't an insult to him—in fact, I'd be lying if I said he doesn't fill me perfectly. I just don't get why I'm only now aware that we're making love.

And it feels wrong. I try to pull myself back together, but he thrusts and my body responds with a moan and a clench I have no control over. I want him to stop, but I need him to keep going. I consider urging him onto his back so I can take over, continue this at my own pace while I figure out why I'm so bleary, but I can't connect my brain to my body.

My hands slide up around his neck and into his hair, tugging his lips down to mine. I have no idea why I do this, aside from how wonderful they feel, of course. My tongue runs along them, urging passage, but then he thrusts harder and I gasp.

Only, I don't. My body does, but I definitely don't need to gasp. I need to--

Get out of my head, Tee.

Okay, that was weird. Where am I supposed to be if not in my own head? Maybe this is my brain working itself out. Maybe I'm telling myself I'm thinking too much about this instead of enjoying a wonderful moment with my husband.

That I'm not married in no way dampens the pleasure I get from his lips making their way down to my neck. I squeal and push him away from the ticklish spot below my left ear, even though it's actually on the right side. He makes cute little snorting sounds when he nuzzles at my shoulder and I respond with a perfect giggle—not the usual high-pitched squeak, but never mind that.

Seriously, Tee. Time to go.

Okay, so I'm ticklish in the wrong spot and my laugh has spontaneously taken on a pleasant octave. It's crazy to go now, right?

His lips make their way to my breast, where he lathes my nipple with his tongue. I glance down to watch his mouth move against the small, perky mound. My flat stomach comes into view, as do my narrow waist and slim hips.

This is not my body.


Sorry, Kay.

It's okay, she replies. Good night, li'l bit.

As if.


I stare at the ceiling fan overhead. It wobbles a little and makes a faint whirring sound, because even in my perfect sister's brand-new house, the stuff I claim as mine is flawed. Our first night here, and my fan already sucks.

As do I. My intrusion into her mind, completely unbidden as it always is when I dream my way into it, has left me aroused. There is nobody in my bed to help me with this. The few boyfriends I've had in my life have never lasted long. As soon as they realized the only time I want to be intimate is when my sister is already similarly engaged weirded them out too much.

Not that any of them were worth keeping around. They were the ones who settled for me, after all. They looked at Kay, knew they didn't have a chance with her, and took her scraps. They never saw me as anything but Kay's pale shadow.

I curl up around my pillow and think about Chromatic Harmony. Moth balls. Starving babies. None of this quells the burning I feel in my core. It never does.

When I give in and slip my hand under the waistband of my pajama pants, three sizes bigger than Kay's, I know I'm the biggest pervert in the world. This is confirmed when Simon's face fills my mind. There's nothing to be done about it, though. I stroke myself roughly, hoping to be done with this as soon as possible so I can get some sleep. I have two job interviews tomorrow. I need to be well rested for them.

It takes too long to finish, and the release is nothing. One moment I can't stop, the next moment I have no interest in continuing. There is no true completion, no euphoria, only a lack of further drive. I'm hot and breathless from exertion, but I know how Kay would feel right now and this isn't even close.

I still burn inside. I'm still wide awake. I'm still frustrated as hell. And I'm a creature of habit so I move on to the next step in the process: a shower.

It's not cold. I can't stand cold showers. To make it unpleasant, I instead turn the water up to near-scalding. My flesh turns bright red under the jets, save for the white inverted Y on my abdomen. It's not the scar from where I was separated from Kay—that's faded into little more than an abnormal divot where my navel should be. The Y is from the liver transplant I underwent at 6, after my half of our liver failed. It seems like my beginnings as a conjoined twin should be what mars my body, but no. It's the failure of what we once shared that refuses to fade.

I'm convinced I'm only alive because having a dead sister would not fit into Kay's charmed life.

Sleep never finds me tonight. It's barely 5AM when I give up and head down to the cavernous stainless steel kitchen, already pungent with the scent of brewing coffee. Simon sits at the table, dressed only in a bathrobe.

"Good morning, li'l bit," he says warmly.

I smile as pleasantly as I can. I really do like Simon. He's smart and witty and polite and genuinely cares about the environment. But his sex drive has interrupted my sleep for the umpteenth time, and I want to hate him for it. My pleasant smile is obviously fake. I'm grumpy.

Being the perfect guy that he is, he urges me to sit while he prepares my coffee and apologizes for ruining my rest.

I shrug it off. "You're newlyweds. Plus, you're letting me live in your mansion rent-free. It's a trade-off."

He scruffs my coppery blonde hair. I could complain about him messing it up, but I didn't dry it before getting back into bed, and it's too long to be left loose. It was already a hideous mat before Simon touched it.

"Don't think I don't like you here, but would it be easier if you weren't in this house? I could renovate the pool house, make it a proper—."

"No," I shut him down before he can offer. A couple yards wouldn’t make a difference. There are apartments not too far from here, cheap enough that I'll be able to afford the rent if I get one of the jobs I'm interviewing for. They're not more than ten miles down the road. I've never lived so far away from Kay, but I think we'll be alright. "I don't want you going out of your way for me. This is only temporary."

"Are you sure? I really don't mind--."

"I'm sure." I reach out and take his hand in mine, squeezing it firmly. "You make Kay happy, and that makes me happy. That's all I want from you. Once I get a job here, I'll be out of your hair and we won't have these, erm, issues anymore."

He sits back down next to me and leans so we're shoulder to shoulder. I wonder if Kay has told him how important physical contact is for us or if he's figured it out on his own. Kay and I naturally gravitate toward each other when we can, but neither of us will turn down surrogates.

So I lean into Simon and close my eyes, absorbing myself in the warmth of our touch and the scent of his aftershave. I can't explain the euphoria that fills me except to say I've never been tempted to do drugs, not when I only have to touch someone to feel whole again.

Simon takes this moment to say, "Why don't you just take a position with my firm? The pay's not amazing for legal secretaries, but it's as good as you're looking for. And you're smart, if you like it we could send you to law school and promote you to paralegal early."

We've discussed this before, but I can't see myself as a lawyer, even in a firm as respected as Meyers and Chase. The Chase side—Simon's mother's family—sticks with civil rights. Simon took a shine to environmental law. Once you take the suits off, the family firm pretty much bleeds tie dye.

But that's not for me. I don't know what is, but I could never stand trial and I wouldn't be happy only making it to paralegal.

So today I have two interviews for tending bar. It's good money and will put me out of the house during Simon and Kay's peak hours. Yay.

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