I used my mouth on my twin while her husband f****d me.
Nora sat on the island with her wedding dress rucked to her hips and no patience left. No panties. She had taken them off in the pantry doorway like a woman who had already decided the price. Her cunt was flushed, wet, the same shape I knew from my own hand in a hundred locked bathrooms. She spread her knees. The veil box sat by her hip like a guest who should have left.
"Kneel," she said.
I knelt. The tile was cold. Evan stood behind me, belt still open, c**k wet from the f**k she had interrupted. Nora grabbed my hair the way he had in the bridal bathroom and pulled my mouth onto her.
She tasted like nerves and heat. The same salt I knew from my own fingers. I licked a slow stripe up her and she jerked, heels knocking the cabinet
