In Love with my sister's Friend

I pushed her against the wall, kissing her passionately; her eyes stared at me as though that was all she had ever wanted. While we kissed, my hands slowly moved from her back to her ass. I could feel how soft it was, and what I wanted to do in that moment was let her feel me in her. But that was too soon. I had to take it slow. I immediately left her lips for boobs and dined on them like they were the finest meal I could get; of course, she was the finest. Every time my tongue touched her n*****s, she would moan loudly, letting me know she felt every inch of what I did; this alone made me hard, and so I continued. I kept on sucking her boobs while my hands made their way to her p***y. I could feel she was already dripping wet, and I could hear her murmur, "I want to feel you in me." I smiled because those words meant a lot to me. I continued rubbing her c**t; her legs were shaking so hard, and I knew she wouldn't be able to stand any longer. I picked her up and dropped her on the couch, exposing her wet p***y better. My tongue touched her p***y, and I could taste her; her aroma filled the air, and she smelled so nice. I ate her out like a hungry dog while she muttered the same words, "I want to feel you in me." I knew it was time because she moaned loudly and really wanted it. I can't keep teasing her, and my d**k was already very hard. I stood up, pulled out my d**k, and as I was about to let her feel me in her, a thought came to my head. Is this right? I'm about to have s*x with my sister's friend. This stunned me. They say a name shapes a man. If that’s true, then Samuel Fray has a lot to answer for. I’m 32 years old, standing at six feet tall with broad shoulders and a strong, athletic build. My skin is glowing, light brown, smooth and well maintained. I think the years of regular workouts have kept my body firm; toned arms, a solid chest, and strong legs. I would say my face is sharp, with a defined jawline and a neatly trimmed beard that frames my full lips. My deep-set eyes, dark and thoughtful, often get me compliments, though I never let it get to my head!!! who am I kidding, the compliments got to my head, that’s why i’m bragging about them now. For half my life, I’ve been a playboy. I’ve had my fair share of women, the beautiful ones, charming ones, even the ones that are just exciting. I was never the type to settle down. Commitment felt like a trap, and I enjoyed my freedom too much. I go for late night trips, expensive dates, and never staying in one place for too long, it was a life I thrived in and my job as a developer permitted it. But lately, something has changed. I’m not gonna lie, I am still as picky as ever. I don’t just go for any woman. She has to be smart, classy, and have a certain presence. Her looks matter, of course, but it’s more than just that. I want a woman who carries herself with confidence, someone who doesn’t just blend into the crowd, my own kind of woman. My parents, however, don’t care about my standards. To them, I’m simply taking too long. Every week, my mother calls. “Samuel, when will you settle down? You’re not getting any younger.” My father joins in, his voice firm. “A man needs a home. You can’t keep running around forever.” I always brush them off with a laugh, but deep down, I know they’re right. I’ve done everything I wanted to do, lived the life I thought I wanted. But now, I find myself thinking differently. Maybe it’s time. Maybe I’m finally ready. The question is, who will be the one to make me stay? I was invited during Easter for dinner at my family house, as usual I was told to bring a plus one because everyone should come with someone. I went alone. It was a quiet dinner at our family gathering, you could hear laughter and soft chatter filling the room. I sat across from Constance, barely daring to look at her directly. Every time our eyes met, I felt a strange pull, as if I was caught in a current I couldn’t resist. All we exchanged was a simple “Hi,” but that single word carried more meaning than I cared to admit. I wondered if I should approach her later, but I convinced myself it was just a fleeting thought. Constance was impossible to ignore. She was tall, I would say around 5’10, and carried herself with a confidence that made her presence command attention. Her fair radiant skin tone was something I couldn't ignore. Her amazing body shape I must say is from stress and from hours at the gym. It shined bright under the soft lights. Her eyes were striking, deep and full of life, and even her slightly full cheeks gave her an approachable warmth. She had the perfect ass shape that everytime she stood up to go get something in the living room I would force myself not to stare a tad too much. Every detail about her spoke of strength and grace. I tried to focus on the conversation at the table, yet my mind kept drifting to her, replaying that subtle “Hi.” Sitting nearby was Ella, my sister, or Daniella as she was formally known. Ella is a young girl so she was perceptive, she watched us with a knowing look. She didn’t say much that night, but I could see the amusement in her eyes. I suspected she had noticed every glance, every little shift in my demeanor, and she seemed to be saving her observations for later. Observations I was scared to listen to. Despite the fact that I am her older brother, we are still best friends. For the next two weeks, I couldn’t shake Constance from my thoughts. At work, I found myself distracted by every detail. Every time I saw a light-skinned girl, a fleeting image of Constance flashed through my mind. It was ironic and maddening. Here I was, trying to forget, yet every familiar face reminded me of her. I caught myself smiling at these random reminders, even as a mix of frustration and disbelief came at me. I was starting to see her differently, though I struggled to understand how or why. But Constance was always on my mind, her smile, her demeanor, I would say her ass, but then you’d see me as a naughty boy. Then, on an ordinary morning during my commute, fate intervened. I was walking along the street near my workplace when I suddenly saw her. Constance was there, standing at the corner as if waiting. My heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, I assumed it was mere coincidence. But deep down, I knew it couldn’t be. Unknown to me, Constance had asked Ella where I worked, and for the past two weeks, she had been passing by, hoping to catch a glimpse of me. (I guess i am a sweet boy as i thought) When our eyes met on the street, Constance acted surprised. I could see her eyes widened slightly and a genuine smile lit her face. I, still believing it was a random chance encounter, couldn’t help but feel a rush of excitement but at the same time it was mixed with uncertainty. We talked for a while and then we exchanged contact details quickly, and as we prepared to part ways, Constance leaned in with a playful yet sincere tone. “What perfume are you wearing?” she asked softly, a question that caught me completely off guard. I couldn’t answer the question for a moment; I blushed. It was obvious to her that I liked her. I immediately lost all my superpowers. I didn’t know how to flirt with a girl anymore. When it mattered the most, I fumbled. I leaned back to her and whispered, “If you get closer to me, it might rub off on you.” She laughed, that rich, low kind of laugh that sticks in your memory like a favorite song. Then she said goodbye and walked away; tall, graceful, and confident, acting like she hadn’t just turned my whole day upside down. I stood there for a while, in the middle of the sidewalk, watching her disappear into the crowd. My heart started beating in that stupid, annoying way it does when something unexpected happens; I mean when something rare happens. I bid her goodbye and left. But the second I got home, everything hit me at once. The silence in my apartment suddenly felt louder than it ever had before. The walls didn’t echo laughter or music or anything. Just my thoughts… and they were all about her. Did I mess that up? Did she feel what I felt? Should I have said something more? Should I have turned around? I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at my phone like a madman. My fingers hovered over her number, but I didn’t dial. My pride wouldn’t let me. She said goodbye so easily. Too easily. And that’s when it hit me. What if she doesn’t text? What if that was it? A single moment... and I let it pass. I buried my face in my hands and muttered something into the quiet. “Samuel Fray… What the hell did you just do?”