Sara’s Wedding

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This story is actually a delicious sequel to the original Sara’s Car Trip Series (Three Parts). Find those and read ’em first. Or…go ahead and enjoy what you got right here…


“Fuckin’A!” I stood up from my desk, holding the paper in my hand.

There in neat little columns were the wedding announcements, third from the top my sister Sara. She never called, never told me. I couldn’t believe it…considering.

Our relationship was complicated. I hadn’t seen her for like four years, had moved to the other side of the world from her. She stayed in our home town, it was a home town wedding. I guess I hadn’t talked to my folks in quite awhile, but were they keeping it from me too? They must have known.

I sat back down, looking at the blank screen of my work computer, just words that I couldn’t make out right now. I couldn’t think straight. I thought how badly we had ended, of me talking to her on the phone. Do brothers and sisters break up?? We did.

Before I moved, that last phone call. I wasn’t crying exactly that night I called her, but I was tearing up as I listened to the phone ringing at the other end. She had been so cold to me. Didn’t want to see me.

I heard her pick up.

Elated I blurted out, “How are you?’


“When can I see you?”

“I don’t know. I have a lot going on. I probably can’t talk long.”

“Can’t or don’t want to.”

“Uh…Don’t want to. Look can I just call you back tomorrow. It’s not been a good day, really. Jason…I just…”

“I don’t want to wait. Look I can’t sleep, I never get to see you anymore. I’m not looking forward to waiting anymore.”

“What are you talking about?? I saw you three days ago. I can’t be with you 24/7. Remember what we said, what WE agreed to. I should have been better about it. Not given in…why are you calling me so late?”

“This is the first you answered the phone.”

“…I was busy, I told you that and you should believe me.”

“Is it coincidence that this new guy comes around and now you’re too busy? “

“Ahhhh…God dammit, I’m tired of this. Everything!! Jason, you’re my…I’m tired of your whiny pouting fits. I want to do this TOMORROW.”

“So what? So that you can hurt me tomorrow and the day after that. I need closure. I feel like you’ve given up on us.”

“US!! There is no us, there can’t be. How can there be? Understand? Listen. I’m tired of hurting you, you know that. It was a mistake, a stupid fun mistake.”

“You don’t mean that!! I did everything you asked.”

“You’re not YOU anymore. It isn’t anything either of us did. This just can’t be, it isn’t meant to be – how could it??”

I had no answer. Sara paused, she sounded like she was standing up just then, pacing in her apartment, standing by her bed. I could just see her, knew her so well, and it was late. I continued, “What are you wearing?”


“Tell me. Just tell me. You in your room?”

“It’s late… I’m, I’m wearing…a T shirt,” she finally said, relenting.

I paused, my heart pounding, “Lift it up for me.”

“No! We are not…I told you, I never should have…that last time.”

“You don’t mean it…you can’t. Our vacation together, those three weeks…and then, when we got back. Sara?”


“We will always, have that…Sara.”

“I’m lifting my T…”

“What?” I was surprised settling back into my bed. “What do you see??”

“My pussy, silly.”


“You shaved it…”

I closed my eyes grasping my cock in my hand.

“…last time.”

We masturbated together, I was squeezing my thighs as I remembered, closed my eyes. Embarrassed. The last time we spoke in four years. I didn’t like to think about it, I had forgotten how badly it had ended.

She had been sweet to me though, for that one moment before I said my goodbye, “Will you still call me? Tomorrow.”



“We’ll see.”

She never did.

Then, I moved away.


I flew into Ronald Reagan Airport and got on the train, felt myself rocking back and forth in the seat rattling along the old tracks, holding on to my bag. I was going to her wedding. I had to. One of the three things she wanted me to promise her I would do. We would see. It had been a long time, and I did not have a plan. I was not invited, but time heals. At the very least I would get to see mom and dad, they wouldn’t be around much longer.

I had called mom and dad, asked them about Sara. Immediately I knew they were keeping it from me. “Why didn’t you tell me?” There was just silence, I didn’t press it. I knew it was Sara. They mumbled something about it being private, something about no one from out of town. But they did tell me where she was staying, near the church in a nice hotel.

So I went to the hotel, got a room, and then asked about Sara.

Room 1143.


I held my breath, had simply put my things into my room and headed straight to hers, eleventh floor. I rapped at the door, and stood straight. My heart in my throat, excited. My eyes bleary with altyazılı porno nerves.

The door opened and I can’t quite describe the look on her face. It was surprise, for sure that was there. Resignation. Anger? Dismay…a smile, weakness. And she was in her fucking wedding dress!

I almost started to laugh…it was bizarre. She had a mouth full of food, probably expecting someone else. She couldn’t talk and she was mumbling as she walked away from the door waving her hand at her face and sort of bending over. “Just a sec…just a sec.”

She looked sideways at me and smiled again.

Then reaching out, wrapped her arms around me and pulled me to herself, we stood like that a little while, our eyes staring into the other. That connection – still there. The fabric on her dress had that crinkly rough feel of cheap lace. But, Oh god oh god it felt so good, melting as she slipped away from me. “What are YOU doing here?”

“I’ve been wondering the same thing. I heard you were getting married,” I said as I settled myself onto a sofa that was situated beside the bed, sheets pulled back to the bottom; she sitting on the mattress facing me, legs out, looking at me the whole time and I sort of read her mind. “Not mom or dad, no one TOLD me. I saw it in the paper.”

She was confused still, “I didn’t put it in any paper in San Francisco?”

“Our paper, on the internet. From here. I keep track of my…home town.”

She tried to press the fabric down, her dress fluffing around her, while holding a piece of cake, pressing another bite into her mouth. A glass of champagne set at the night stand.


Talking with her mouth full, “Sorry I didn’t tell you…but, I didn’t think you would, well… you…”

I started to laugh, “You look like fucking Barbie!” That really broke the ice!

She looked down at herself then me, “Ha! Mom picked it out. Like it!! Mmmmm, nice. I told her I wanted a traditional wedding. This is what I got,” She got up twirling herself and went to the fridge, held out the piece of cake she was eating, “Want some?”


“Wedding cake,” talking again with her mouth full. “I took the top layer from downstairs, its in the fridge here. I was hungry.”

“You cant eat your wedding cake.”

“What? There were five layers, now there’s four. Big woop. Want one?”

I took a piece, and she was still rummaging around the room, took another glass filled it and handed it to me. “Champagne. We ordered six cases. I stole a bottle.” She then threw herself onto the couch where I was and draped her legs over my lap, setting her feet on the armrest and sprawling herself back into the cushions. I tipped the glass and downed it at once. I needed that! God she looked delicious.

“Its warm,” I said.

She drank hers, looking at me over her glass, “Didn’t look to me like you even tasted it.” She poured me another glass.

“How come you didn’t put this in the fridge?” I held out my glass as she poured.

“The bottle was too big. S’alright, anyways.” She took another sip and then lay her head back on the armrest at the other end, cake in one hand champagne glass in the other, white fabric spread everywhere over me, bare feet. My little Sara.

“What happened to getting married naked on the beach?”

“What, Are you the fucking wedding police?” She set up a little, leaning on her elbows, pressing the rest of the cake in her mouth with her fingers. “Besides that was for when I married YOU. Remember?”

I lay my hand on her ankle and held her soft, “Hmmm, I see.” I felt my heart start a little at her words. Old wounds. “You would have married ME.”

“Well… not that we could. Well, I couldn’t anyways. It didn’t matter, you moved away.” A slight edge of anger in her voice.

I began to rub her legs, feeling her soft skin, holding on. Looking at her as I did so. She could feel it, but no response. Her smooth legs, she had shaved, her legs soft like silk, I was rubbing her up to her knees, stroking her calves, the underside of her knee. Touching her with my free hand. She loved that place, I continued to stroke her there, saw her close her eyes a little, not moving. Letting me.

Then, back to her ankles, her feet, watching her wiggle her toes as I touched them, her little red-painted toes. You could see my hands on her when I was rubbing her feet, but then back up under that fluffy dress. Just touching her thighs a little, above her knees, feeling her between her legs, teasing up her inner thigh. God I loved how she felt.

“You quit calling me,” I blurted out. A silent pause followed, my hands on her.

Her head laying back on the armrest, eyes closed, “More like quit calling you every day, morning noon and night…listening to you ask me endless questions, what was I doing, who was I seeing? Where was I? I wanted…NEEDED a break, to breath, you were…it was so intense. And you!! You up… and leave the planet.” She lifted her head, looking at me. It all came out. Ouch. She sipped from her glass, “All or nothing I guess.”

“I remember…different…” I felt a little anger rise in amatör porno me. “It was a little worse than that…I think,” then I paused. I didn’t want to go there.

I could still feel her skin, it was melting me. Let it go. Let it go. I simply continued to stroke her calves, trace my fingers along her legs. I let my hand drift higher higher, touching up her legs, feeling the warmth of her. Rubbing her until I was way up under her dress. Just touching outside and inside her legs.

I started again, “Hmmmm, K. But back to OUR wedding. US huh? You thought about that?”

God she was just letting me stroke her now, I could feel her turning her legs for me, bending her one knee out. Sort of showing me where she wanted to be touched. I completely obliging her, doing her bidding, laying my palms on her, rubbing my open hands up and down her legs, up the center of her thighs, until…

I just felt the edge of her panties. She WAS wearing panties. Cotton. I wasn’t sure after all. It was Sara.

Feeling just the wisps of pussy hair, curly strands. Not shaved. I was thinking all these things, my hand settling at her upper thighs, stroking her as we were rambling on. My cock was already hard, straining in my pants. I needed to adjust myself, but did not want to take my hands off her. She might move, she might get up. Stop me. It was just too delicious. I simply let my cock grow down my pant leg.

“Yeah, I thought about it…how we would have to move to Thailand, and you could be a rice farmer. Buy some water buffalo. How we would raise our nine children…live in a tree house…I WAS in love you know.” She threw her head back and I began to run my finger up onto her panties, touching her ever so lightly between her legs, my fingers caressing the warm triangle of fabric and then following the line of her pussy down between her legs. Petting her like that. So warm, damp, feeling her curly dark hairs moving around beneath the fabric. I felt her squeeze her legs together capturing my hand, “Besides the fact you are my Brother! who is…also…a complete mental case.”

And then she began to scoot away a bit, sit herself up, “Ah ah ah, stay inside the lines.”

It was her first reference to what I was doing. I pulled my hand away, let it rest on her thigh above her knee. “This ok?”

“Mmmm, yeah. Fine. Nice. Just stay inside the lines, S’all. Be good.”

And I felt emboldened at her words, she was openly letting me touch her now. ‘Stay inside the lines.’ Just like Sara. The tease.

I cooed out, “Is this the line?” as I ran my hands up the inside of her thigh in one motion to right along the edge of her panties, insinuating my fingers just under the fabric edge and stroking a line along the outside of her pussy lips, letting the elastic stretch back a bit so that I was rubbing the hairs of her cunt, back and forth back and forth, pressing in so I was massaging indirectly, digging really into her clit. Curling my fingers around her ass, touching close, so close to the little pucker of her ass. She just lay there smiling, tensing her legs a little.

“Something like that…” and holding herself open for me, no moving at all, but turning herself and stretching back for the bottle of champagne, holding it out to me, “Want some more?” I reaching with my glass, she poured, my hand on her the whole time, stroking that ‘line’ between her legs.

God damn. I was hard.

She set the bottle back down, but then scootched herself up against the arm of the sofa, “Ahh…enough you! Your SO bad. We couldn’t. We can’t. I was joking…Your crazy.”

I was following along as she was moving though, she squeezing her thighs right around my hand sort of holding me there. Not shooing me away, not yet, just acknowledging what I was doing. Lazing back into the sofa, opening her legs, her wedding dress fluffing all around us.

We were quiet awhile, and I let my hands wander back down to her calves, rubbing her knees, under her knees…I took another tack, “Remember our last night in Florida?”

She opened her eyes, little slits, all teeth, “Ha! You still the bird dog! Oh God, do I remember?” She was reaching her arms out, “Fuck I miss you, miss this! I feel so relaxed, first time in…” She lifted one of her legs up in the air and held her foot with one hand.

“I missed you too… But, that… back to that last night.”

“Ha ha ha.” She was laughing. “You are so fucking hilarious.” She touched her foot to my nose. “Yes, silly I remember. Remember it every day of my fucking life. YOU want to talk about what we talked about, what I said. Hmm, I wonder why, ahh…hahaha”

She lifted her head, “Maybe…The Three Things…”

“That last morning before we went home.”

“God. I still. Best day of my life. So bad. Oh my god! That night. All of it.”

“And you told me The Three Things you wanted me to do to you some day.”

She stretched herself out, letting her head fall back as she said, “Mmmmm, the first one, mmm, oh god! Letting you kidnap me.”

She slid herself on the couch now, toward me *this was working* so she was just about sitting on my lap. I let arap porno my fingers wander back to her panties, stroking my fingers over her mound, touching her freely, cupping my whole hand over her, that small triangle of fabric, rubbing her bare tummy, could feel her getting warmer. The hairs of her puss puffing out the fabric, the soft cotton, and I just reached ever so lightly beneath the line of fabric, continuing to touch her pressing my hand into her tangle of hairs, feeling her legs opening, her lap so nearly sitting on me, my cock pressing into her thigh. I could feel her moving her hips ever so lightly now.

“I had that old mustang.”

“You threw me in the trunk. Had a pillowcase over my head. I cut myself.”

“God it was like midnight. It was dark, you had a paper to write. You were like no no no you can’t!!”

“You tied me to a tree with duct tape. Left me for an hour.” She sat up then and hit me with her open hand. Her knees spread akimbo as she did. Wild eyes.

“Ten minutes.”

“Fucker. God…all I had on was a T shirt, and you threw that over my ass.” She threw herself back on the couch and let her arms rest up over her head, “Fuck, That was good!”

I was pressing my finger into the line of her puss, opened her right up, feeling her cream over my fingers as I slid right into her. Her pussy opening, sliding, pressing my fingers lightly upon her clit. She jumped at my touch and I spread my hand out again and wrapping my whole hand right over her pressing the flat of my hand up between her legs. The tips of my fingers at the top of her mound, my palm pressed down between her legs, I could feel that hot wet line running right down my hand.

“Mmmmmm.” She was really squirming on me now, we were simply moving upon one another for awhile.

Before I continued, “But that third thing…do you remember? Letting me fuck you…on your wedding day.”

She opened her eyes, began to sit upright, gradually swung her legs around, pulling herself away leaving my hand on my lap; one leg then the other, sitting up. Sort of gathering herself. I hadn’t expected her to move. She was looking down at herself, at her wedding dress, and at me.

I suddenly felt foolish. I wondered if I had pushed to far just then…

“Yeah, that was it. You remember that do you.” She rose from the sofa. Fuck Fuck Fuck I remembered thinking. She was turning, looking in the mirror. Walked back and took her glass again, poured some more champagne and took a sip pacing back to the mirror.

“I let you do two of them you know.”

I thought what the hell, “And…”

“No no no. Crazy Talk. Ha! Fuck, I let you fuck me in my room the night we got home. Remember that!! Right after saying that we couldn’t. Mom and dad right next door, still unpacking, we could hear them.”

I continued, “And the night after that.”

“So much for the 400 mile rule.”

We were staring at one another, eyes sparkling. Her cheeks were flushed, mottled, her hair a mess. We couldn’t catch our breaths. Just how I remembered her.

“…Well, not really the second one, we chickened out. I didn’t want to share myself with you and another guy. We had fun trying, searching. I just couldn’t…couldn’t share. Simple… Same problem now I think.”

“You never were good at sharing.”

“Something like that.” She pressed her hand into her tummy and let it slide down between her hips. I could see the ache in her.

“We leave it at that, k? We can dream…fantasize…you and me. Our secrets…I have to be faithful to Mark. I can’t share…not this time.”

“I understand.”


The room went suddenly still, the air went out. Something drained away in that moment. But her smell was in the air, she was so wet, pressing her hand to herself, looking in the mirror, catching her breath. And she let me. I was still wondering, not convinced. Her eyes sparkling, her cheeks flushed. What we did to each other, who could explain? I was hungry, aching. No words to describe.

And Her words. Words. Words. Just what they were, words. The problem. Words did nothing between us. They were not us, not our bodies, what we did to each other. We NEVER listened to them. I waited.

She was pacing again, standing between the bed and me, looking at me, down at me with that glass in her hand. A smile, this sudden shy smile. The silence in the room.

“Thanks for coming.” She turned herself, “Unzip me.”

“Excuse me?”

She looked back, reading my mind, “No! Not that!!” Her eyes wide, “I just want to get out of this thing. I’m hot.”

I bit my tongue.

I got up and reached out, held the zipper with my fingers and slid it down her back, zzzzz, watching it open around her shoulders. The zipper slipping down to the center of her ass. I could see her bare back opening to me the whole way down, the top of her panties.

She leaned forward, letting the dress slide down her arms. I was trying to remain nonchalant, comfortable. She was basically ignoring me as she undressed. I watched her wiggle her hips as the dress slid down her legs and then she tossed it onto one of the two double beds. All she had on was a light green pair of panties, the ones I had been touching. Old, dull, under that wedding dress. Her perfect little breasts as she turned to the side, bending over the bed and then looking over to me. Her tight little nipples. Just as I remembered her.

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