Happiness Is a Long, Hot Shower
Adagio wound her way amongst the shelves of her favorite store, scanning rack after rack of lingerie. Anything that caught her attention for more than a split-second and came in the right size went into one of the several shopping bags hanging from her arm. She’d already lost track of what she’d put in there, which was usually when she decided she was done, but dammit, there was always just one more thing she knew she’d look great in.
But she had to pry herself away eventually. She was getting dangerously close to the shoe section, and that was a rabbit hole she definitely wanted to save for another day.
She took a moment to rummage quickly through the bags she’d filled, guesstimate how much money she was going to have to throw over the counter, and undo another button or two on her blouse. Then she slunk off towards the only open register. She set her bags on the counter, making sure to lean onto it a bit so that the girl behind it got a nice view of her cleavage.
And the girl in question was… cute-ish, probably, by other people’s standards. Pretty plain, by Adagio’s, but whatever, close enough. Adagio threw a little flirty lilt into her voice while she recited the typical friendly platitudes, put a little sex into her smile when she told the counter girl she had a nice haircut.
Then, by the end of the transaction, just when she could tell the girl was weighing in her head whether Adagio was coming onto her—it was amazing how optimistic mortals were, really—Adagio pulled a massive wad of bills out of her purse and flung them in the girl’s face.
“Keep the change,” she said in a flat tone as she took her bags and sauntered off.
“Why in the fuck would you do that?”
Aria was lounging on the couch, being judgmental. What a cunt. She’d been there when Adagio came back home, her legs spread wide and dipped into painfully tight pants, the bulge between her thighs shameless and brazen. She had her own bundle of shopping bags sitting next to her, haphazard and crumpled.
And she didn’t quite look utterly furious—just pretty pissed-off—and her hair was somewhat unkempt, which… put some thoughts into Adagio’s mind.
Most of which started with Aria ramming her dick in some nameless girl’s mouth, and ended with a quiet hiss of “how dare she.” Because, really, who did Aria think she was, fooling around with peasant hussies like that?
Adagio shrugged. “What’s the fun in being fabulously wealthy if you don’t get to be a little frivolous now and then?” She’d set down her bags and almost immediately started taking off her blouse. “Besides, this way, I didn’t have to count and she wasted a few minutes catching them all. I think that’s fair.”
Aria made a disparaging grunt, crossing her arms and rolling her eyes. “Whatever. You get anything good, at least?”
“Probably.” Adagio finished stripping off her blouse, which she wadded up and tossed at Aria’s face. Then she ducked the box of tissues Aria threw back at her, sticking her tongue out at her sister.
“How the fuck do you spend so long and not even know what you…” Aria grit her teeth, holding up her hands and sliding back into the couch’s corner. “Never mind. The less I know about how your skanky mind works, the better.”
Adagio eyed the bulge in Aria’s pants, made a quiet “hmm,” and started unzipping her skirt, giving a toss of her hair while she wiggled out of it. “Is Sonata back yet?”
“Nah.” Aria’s eyes gave that dispassionate little twitch they did when she was pretending not to eye someone up. “Probably got lost or something.”
“Good.” Adagio ran her hands through her hair—it all flowed like water down her back, and there was no better way to appreciate it than having it be bare skin of hers it lay against. “You could probably use a shower.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Adagio tilted her head, sighed, and gave Aria a look. “You,” she said as she slunk over and flopped down on the couch next to Aria, “are in much too good a mood for you to have not put in your dick in someone while you were out.” That close, she could confirm it—Aria reeked of sweat and sex.
That just wouldn’t do.
There was a pause, but then Aria gave a smug little shrug. “Hey,” she said, “it’s not my fault that one of the girls at the store caught a peak of what I was trying on and flung herself at me.”
“Of course not.” Adagio slid a little closer. “But it means you could probably stand to rinse off. You want to be nice and clean for the pictures, don’t you?”
Aria swept her eyes down to Adagio’s breasts and legs, then turned them away. “Come on, Adagio, cut the bullshit. What do you want?”
“Well.” Adagio shuffled right up to Aria’s side, touching her bicep tenderly, making sure to turn her torso so Aria got a nice squish of cleavage pressed up against her. “I was thinking that, if you needed a turn in the shower anyway… you could wash my hair for me.”
“I could.” Aria glanced down at Adagio’s chest again. “But why, exactly, would I do anything like that?”
Adagio gave an innocent shrug, turning her gaze to Aria’s crotch so blatantly that it had to have been noticed. She pursed her lips into a pouty smile. “Because you like me,” she whispered.
Aria made a dry snort of a laugh that turned quickly into a full-fledged cackle. When her laughter died down, her lips bent into a smirk, and she lifted one of her hands to wedge it into Adagio’s bra. Adagio sighed, playing up how nice it felt to be groped like that. Playing with her tits was a thing she’d never get tired of, but like what she’d just asked of Aria, it was always better when she talked someone else into doing it for her.
“You know,” Aria said, squeezing and kneading Adagio’s breast, “one of these days I want somebody to say no to you. Just once, so that you know what it feels like.”
Adagio took Aria by the hand and started to stand up. “But not today,” she said.
There was some brief resistance, but after a moment Aria let herself be pulled to her feet—and instantly snaked an arm around Adagio’s waist to yank her close. “Nah,” she said, brushing her lips across Adagio’s. “Not today.”
Butterflies danced a tango in Adagio’s stomach. She slipped away as Aria came in for a kiss, reveling in the spicy growl her sister made—which spoke of desire and lust, which led to tantalizing images and thoughts that made Adagio quicken her pace as she dragged Aria towards the shower.
The second the bathroom door was slammed shut, Adagio was pinned against the wall, Aria’s hand planted roughly between her shoulder blades. She gasped, catching herself and peering over her shoulder at her sister. “Someone’s eager.”
“Don’t sound so surprised.” Aria ran her fingers through Adagio’s hair—it took her a moment to hunt down the clasp to Adagio’s bra, but then she found it and Adagio’s breasts tumbled free.
For a moment, at least, because Aria reached around to grope them as soon as they were out in the open. Her grip was rough, but her fingers soft, like stone wrapped in pillows. Her breath was arid heat on Adagio’s neck; warmth funneled into her from half a dozen places, and the grinding of Aria’s hips—Aria’s hidden cock—was just a little cherry on top.
Adagio purred, putty in Aria’s hands. She felt herself being turned around, a kiss stolen while frisky fingers tugged at what few garments still clung to her. The heel of Aria’s palm pressed against her pussy, long fingers spreading and teasing her lips. Aria was everywhere, everything.
And then just like that, Aria lurched back, and the loss of her warmth told Adagio just how chilly the room was.
“Well?” Aria asked, as calmly as though she hadn’t just stripped Adagio naked and come a hair’s breadth from fucking her then and there. “Aren’t you going to turn the water on?”
That, Adagio mused, was an attitude she often adopted herself. She made a silent note to do it more often; it was tremendously irritating.
But it was balanced out by how she got to, quite pointedly, turn her back while Aria got undressed, as though there wasn’t anything to see there at all.
She stepped into the shower, bending over much farther than she needed to reach the faucet and twist it. Water spurted from the nozzle, multiple jets of icy chills jabbing at her skin like a swarm of needles. She winced, squirming—and would have stepped back, but by the time that thought crossed her mind Aria was coming in behind her, and she wasn’t going to be the first to retreat.
Besides, she got to cozy up to Aria again, leeching some of that delicious body heat to keep herself a little warmer.
“So,” she said, running one hand through her now-wet hair and touching the other to Aria’s chest. “I’d better sit down, hmm? So that you can reach everything more easily?” It was a struggle to keep her gaze level, but she did so.
There was a tension to Aria’s eyes, like she wanted to argue but knew it would just be a nuisance. Without a word, she pressed down on Adagio’s shoulders and reached for a bottle of shampoo.
With a smile playing on her lips, Adagio lowered herself. Which may as well have been a tour of Aria’s best features: first there were her breasts, all soft and shiny and squeezable under the water, then her flat, muscular stomach, and then, at last, her cock.
Adagio had seen a lot of cocks, and Aria’s was the reason she thought most of them were boring. It was big and thick, with just a subtle bit of curve to it. And it was the kind of thing where when she saw it, she just had to touch it too, to see if it felt as wonderful as it looked.
Which meant she reached for it eagerly, wrapping her fingers around it and giving it a nice, lazy stroke. It twitched and flexed and Aria grunted and somehow it got even bigger and even harder. It turned Adagio’s breath into nervous, excited tremors, and made her almost numb to the rain of water on her naked back. It made her glad she was kneeling, because she wasn’t confident in her legs to support her.
And just when she thought things couldn’t get any better, she felt the cool, clammy touch of shampoo-lathered hands running along her scalp.
Her mouth opened just a tad so that she could sigh, and Aria took that as an invitation. She pushed her hips forward, her dick prodding at Adagio’s lips.
“It’s not gonna suck itself,” Aria said. Her voice had the kind of insistent tone that might have made Adagio snap at her another day, but, well…
Between the hot, steamy shower, the silky-smooth hands running through her hair, and the fat cock in front of her face, Adagio was in a good enough mood to cut her sister a little slack.
She leaned in, parted her lips, and slipped the tip of Aria’s dick between them.
Perfection. Utter perfection. Soaked as it was by shower water, Aria’s cock slid eagerly into Adagio’s mouth like a hand into a glove—like there wasn’t any purpose for the latter but to hold the former.
Aria grunted again. Adagio looked up in time to see her sucking in a breath, her back faintly arched. “Took you long enough,” Aria hissed, though the motion of her hands through Adagio’s hair remained careful and tender.
Adagio hummed quietly to herself, swirling her tongue around Aria’s tip. She started bobbing her head, with slow, languid motions. There was a lot of dick for her to enjoy, and she wanted to take her time with it.
“Fuck.” A tremor rippled through Aria’s shaft. For a moment, her hands came to a rest, weaving through Adagio’s hair, bunching up enough to grab. Then she went back to work, pulling Adagio’s hair away from her face and letting it fall against her back with a wet slap. “It’s stupid how much of this you have.”
Adagio pulled her head back slowly, grabbing up what left her mouth and satiating it with pumps of her hand. A string of spittle stretched from her lips to Aria’s tip—which she kissed and nuzzled, reaching underneath to cup and squeeze Aria’s balls. “You know you love it,” she said. “Afraid you won’t last long enough?”
Aria crudely grabbed her dick and swatted Adagio’s cheek with it. “Maybe if you stop slacking, I wouldn’t.” She reached again for the shampoo, squeezing a fat, generous dollop onto her palm, which she massaged into Adagio’s hair, bending over slightly and gathering it up so she could reach the tips.
Which Adagio definitely did not use as an excuse to steal a peek at Aria’s tits. Because that would have been a waste of time when there was dicksucking to do.
They were such a lovely pair, though. And they looked so neglected, too, the poor things.
Talking of neglected, though…
Adagio slipped Aria’s dick back between her lips, taking a few experimental plunges. On paper, she knew that she was more than capable of deepthroating it, hefty though it was, but in practice, it always felt even more massive in the moment.
But the next time she went down, she went and went and went and didn’t stop until she could almost kiss Aria’s stomach. A grunt, a gasp and a jerk were her rewards, and would have painted a smug grin on her face if her mouth could make that kind of shape right then.
It felt fucking incredible, even for her. She was just a hair’s breadth from choking, she thought—if Aria’s dick were just an inch or two longer, just a few centimeters fatter, she’d have had to stop partway down.
But she didn’t, because Aria’s dick was, again, quite perfect.
The moan she let out as she retreated was undeniably slutty, but fuck it, it was genuine. She went back for more as soon as she could, bobbing her head, stuffing her mouth over and over and over.
Another grunt, another hiss. Hands combing through her hair—fuck, they felt so soft and silky, how was Aria so gentle?
Warmth bloomed inside her. Her stomach did backflips, her core smoldered. Her jaw started to ache, but she pressed on, her eyes falling blissfully closed. Aria moaned and squirmed in her mouth.
“Fuck. Fuck.” Again Aria’s hands balled up in Adagio’s hair—but this time to hold her back.
Adagio came to a pause about halfway up Aria’s dick, craning her head to look upwards.
“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but slow the fuck down.” Aria’s voice had jitters and stiffness to it that Adagio loved to hear. “I can’t wash your stupid hair when your head’s bouncing around like that.”
Adagio calmly peeled her mouth off Aria’s dick, pursing her lips into a smile. “Aww,” she crooned. “I didn’t know you cared so much.”
“You’d make me start over if I didn’t do it right.”
“Damn right I would. Can you really complain, though?” Adagio sank back down towards Aria’s dick, pressing her lips to the tip and exaggerating a “Mwa!”
“I can think of about fifty different things I’d rather be using my hands for.” Aria snorted derisively, but trailed off into a deep, lusty moan that she quickly pinched off. “Most of which involve jerking off, since you’re apparently no damn help.”
Adagio snickered before popping Aria’s dick back into her mouth. She dragged her tongue along its underside, gobbling it down—at a slower pace this time.
“Fuckin’ finally,” Aria grumbled. She took her hands off Adagio’s scalp, gently rolling her hips forwards to ease a bit more dick into Adagio’s throat—which was eagerly accepted. “I bet nobody would let you anywhere near their dick if they knew how chatty you were.”
Adagio made a show out of rolling her eyes. Aria’s hands came back to her head, this time covered in what she recognized as her usual conditioner. Now, Aria was slightly more forceful, somewhat rougher in her treatment of Adagio’s tresses. And her posture was more restless, too; her hips bucked a little now and then, and when Adagio looked up at her face, often her teeth were pressed to her bottom lip or her eyes were rolled back in their sockets.
When Adagio flicked her tongue across Aria’s tip, it swiped away a fat dribble of salty precum, which clung to Adagio’s throat when she swallowed it.
Beyond just being a liquid for her to taste, that precum put thoughts in Adagio’s head. She imagined the walls of her pussy clenching down on Aria’s cock as it spasmed and convulsed and pumped her full. She imagined spurts of cum painting her tits white, a few stray dribbles dripping down to Aria’s stomach—and of course she had to lean down and lap them up.
She squeezed her thighs together, acutely aware of how empty the gulf between them was.
A hiss and a grunt snapped her back to reality. “Motherfucker.” Aria scowled. Her cock jerked, scraping against the teeth Adagio realized weren’t pulled back enough. “I’m almost done; get those teeth away from me.”
Again heat bloomed in Adagio, in her chest and behind her cheeks. This warmth wasn’t one she was used to, though. She nodded silently, shifting where she knelt and hoping that a few seconds of deepthroating made up for it.
When she looked back up, she Aria’s brow furrowed, like she’d been expecting something. But then she looked away, and tenderly lathered Adagio’s hair, and said nothing.
Adagio thought about apologizing, but there wasn’t any way that wouldn’t just be awkward for both of them. And Aria would be frustrated with her for pausing again.
So she just kept sucking. In and out, quick and rhythmic, working the shaft and balls with her hands.
She felt Aria’s breaths growing heavy. Felt a bit more eagerness in Aria’s hips. For a few moments she just held still and let Aria fuck her face, balls slapping against her chin with each thrust. Foamy water swept down her shoulders, drenching her tits.
And then came the best part. Because there just wasn’t anything out there that compared to Aria’s cock climaxing inside her throat. Even the buildup was incredible; her pulse quickened when Aria abruptly screeched to a stop. She sucked in a breath, the anticipation tickling at her like a bed of feathers—Aria’s cock flexed in her mouth… and then it all burst.
Ropes of hot, cloying cum poured in waves down her throat. She lurched back as she gulped down what she could, but just when she thought she had it under control, there was more, so much more. The taste, the scent, overwhelmed her. She had to back off, cum leaking from her throat, and Aria was still going, the last couple spurts hitting her in the forehead and cheeks.
She looked down. Her breasts rose and fell, swaying with each of her heavy breaths. And for a few sweet moments, they had that faint sticky sheen to them as cum drizzled down on them like syrup on pancakes before the water washed it all away.
A shudder ripped through her. She could feel her clit throbbing insistently—fingers, dick, something, anything, each second she wasn’t stuffing herself was torture.
But Aria was winding down, and it would go straight to her head if Adagio threw herself at her twice in such quick succession.
So Adagio pushed aside the pounding of her own arousal, giving little but a shrug and a quick cup of her breasts. “Not your worst,” she said, pummeling her voice until it sounded casual instead of breathy and sex-addled. “How’re you coming?”
“Eh.” Aria ran her fingers lazily down to the tips of Adagio’s hair. “Good enough.” She sighed, groaning, her dick shrinking back and bending before Adagio’s eyes. “Scrub down a bit and call it a day? I be Sonata’s gonna be back soon.”
For once, Adagio would have preferred it if Aria had thought with her dick first and her brain second.
But she had a point. It would be good to get at least a few pictures before everything turned into a pile of frisky fingers and cheeky gropes. They’d stay in the shower all day if they kept at it.
Especially if Sonata came in to join them.
“Yeah,” Adagio said. “Sounds good.”
She stood up, “accidentally” stumbling and just so happening to put her face in Aria’s cleavage. What a strange turn of events—she laughed it off with an airy giggle, hunting down the bodywash and dreaming of drenching Aria’s cock in cleansing suds.
But after a little while, Aria came up to her, turned her around, and put those strangely gentle fingers of hers to work on her breasts and thighs, and Adagio just cooed quietly and melted a little, because all was right in her world.
“You’re absolutely sure about this.”
“Of course I’m sure.” Adagio stood in front of the bathroom mirror, one of the room’s several hair driers gripped in her hand, her torso wrapped in a towel that might have kept her mostly modest if she were less busty; as it was, she’d had to choose between not pulling it over her breasts or hiking it up much too far to hide her rear, and she’d chosen the latter. “It’s tradition; I want to get at least a few pictures of us looking clean and presentable.”
“Fine, fine.” Aria held up her hands. She was standing beside Adagio, dick and tits flopping out uncovered while she dried her own hair. She made a pointed stare somewhere far below Adagio’s eyes. “Just saying, you don’t look like you could keep your hands to yourself long enough to get us all dolled up and shit.”
With a huff, Adagio pulled her towel down a bit—her nipples peaked sneakily out the top. “I’m fine,” she said. “Not everyone’s as insatiable as you are.” Fuck, lying through her teeth like that made her so hot.
It was difficult not to notice how Aria’s dick was already getting stiff again. The girl it was attached to just shrugged. “Whatever,” she said. “Just saying.”
Adagio had a retaliatory barb queued up, but the muffled noise of a distant door slamming shut made her pinch it off.
Beside her, Aria tensed. “That’s probably Sonata,” she said. She kept her eyes trained forwards, but she switched off her hair dryer.
Adagio hmmed thoughtfully. “Probably is.”
She wondered what sort of surprises Sonata had brought back with her. Sonata loved those tiny, flouncy skirts—the ones that always let her lovely legs show off, and let you easily check whether she’d remembered to wear panties—and those frilly pink bras that she could just barely squeeze her rich, pillowy tits into...
Good gods, those tits. Sometimes Adagio just wanted to smother them in chocolate syrup and whipped cream and dress them up like a sundae so that they’d taste as sweet as they looked.
And talking of tasting, she didn’t give her so much credit all the time, but holy fuck, Sonata knew how to eat pussy.
Not to say any of that mattered just yet. Pictures first, of course. Mindless debauchery second.
Aria shot her a look.
“Aria,” Adagio said, taking great care not to linger on what kind of surprised delight would cross Sonata’s face if both her sisters pounced on her so soon after she walked inside. “I know what you’re thinking.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.” Adagio folded her arms. “Maybe after—”
Aria yanked her towel right off and darted for the door. Adagio’s eyes narrowed, and she gave chase—but the door got a bit stuck, so they both came to a sudden stop, and when it popped open a second later they spilled out into the hall in a bundle of naked limbs, scrambling over each other in a race for Sonata.
It was a pretty silly tradition, after all.