My Sister's Dressmaker

My sister is anything but sloppy. On the contrary, she is a good homemaker and an amazing cook. Moreover, she is quite beautiful with a flawless body and always dresses to the nines, with particular attention and care. She has, however, one serious flaw: She is the epitome of superficiality and irresponsibility. She constantly buys clothes that after a short while either go out of fashion and she doesn't want them anymore, or they don't fit her, since she very easily, from one day to the next, loses and gains weight depending on the season. It's the first time I've seen a person gain and lose weight with such ease.

But that's not the issue; it's that instead of altering the nearly unwearable clothes she has, she always prefers to buy new ones, with the result, of course, that whatever money she makes from her job evaporates in the blink of an eye. The same thing happened this time too. So she came and found me to borrow money with the intention, of course, of spending it on clothing. I told her I didn't have any, and even if I were in a position to help her, I wouldn't do it. She had to learn sometime to manage her finances better and not spend recklessly. She should make do with what she had, otherwise she should look to borrow money somewhere else, if she could. She left sulking without even saying goodbye, but after a week she called me again. Her voice was dripping with honey as she invited me for a meal, and I immediately smelled that she was cooking up something else for me besides the stew she had prepared. And so I was full of reservations about her good intentions.

And I wasn't wrong! When I emptied my plate and was drinking the last glass of wine, she sprang the story on me. Just as I was lighting a cigarette, she brought up, completely out of the blue and pretending, that she had followed my advice and instead of borrowing money to buy new clothes, she took some of her older ones to a seamstress to alter them as best as possible. I gave her a sweet smile and praised the prudence she was showing for the first time in her life, while inside I was thinking that any minute now she would tell me the real reason she had invited me. She cleared her throat, supposedly to find the right words, essentially, and with the most innocent tone in the world added that yes, she had taken them to the seamstress, but she didn't have the money to get them back. I was surprised how that was possible and asked her how much she owed. When I heard the amount, I swallowed my smoke wrong and a coughing fit seized me that almost choked me. I even almost fell off the chair I was sitting on. It seemed so outrageous to me and I told her so:

"But what kind of seamstress is this who charges so much? Does she use gold thread or does she sew for shipowners' and industrialists' wives?"

"But no!" she replied innocently. "I found her here in the neighborhood, two blocks down. She works from her home." I told her plainly that I didn't believe her. There was some catch and she was avoiding telling me. She sighed deeply and let her hands drop to her sides in a gesture of surrender. She stopped beating around the bush and confessed to me that she had taken a whole pile for alterations. That's how so many piled up and she didn't have the money to pay. She could pay half immediately, but the rest she could only pay next month, when she would get paid again from her job. So if I could help her out with the corresponding amount, she would owe me eternal gratitude. If, on the other hand, I didn't have the money, perhaps I could go to the seamstress myself and explain the whole situation to her. She would believe me and would give her the time credit she was asking for. So as not to lose face and borrow from her friend Anna, who is just looking for an opportunity to make her look bad, she ended up pleading with me warmly. Even tears rolled from her eyes to get me on her side, and in the end I gave in. I agreed to go talk to the seamstress even though it was something I would never do for myself. Even though there's no chance I'd ever be in her position, since I always make sure I'm okay with my obligations and never incur debts I can't cover.

So I set out the next day for the seamstress with the amount of money my sister had told me in my pocket. I had, of course, the rest of the amount with me in my wallet just in case, but I would first examine the possibility of paying in installments and then I would supplement it with my own money.

I rang the seamstress's doorbell and when she opened, I was taken by surprise. Where I expected to meet a middle-aged lady, full of threads and needles sticking out, I encountered one of the most beautiful creatures I have ever seen in my life. She couldn't have been more than twenty-five years old, with relatively short blond hair and a cute round face with bright, deep green almond-shaped eyes. Her height reached up to my chin and her juicy body overflowed from the short dress she was wearing. My eyes almost popped out of their sockets when I looked at her bare, tight thighs and her long, full calves. My lips parted wide and I almost started drooling when my gaze lingered with due attention on her voluptuous chest, with the deep, desirable cleavage and the rich, tight flesh of her firm breasts which with difficulty held imprisoned by the narrow dress with the large, deep neckline. With difficulty I tore my gaze from her body and looked her in the face, searching to find the right words to justify my presence there. But she smiled at me so sweetly that it took my breath away.

She didn't leave me waiting like an idiot at the door, however, and seeing the obvious discomfort that possessed me, she herself asked me to come in. She closed the door behind me and only then, after first swallowing dryly, did I start to say who I was. But she interrupted me, telling me that she knew very well who I was and what I wanted there, since my little sister had taken care to call her and inform her that I would be going in her place to settle the bill. I immediately regained my composure then and asked her sweetly if she had also informed her about the way she intended to pay it off. She played with the lapel of my jacket with her fingers and with her head lowered she whispered that she had left the details for me. That soft touch unsettled me and the scent of her body, so close to me as she had come, intoxicated me. Stuttering almost, I managed to make her understand what my sister was asking for, and when I finished she burst out with a little laugh.

"I knew it would turn out something like this from the beginning," she replied readily. "So many clothes, it's hard for someone to pay for them all at once. I, however, have them all ready... What do you suggest, should I give half now and the rest when she pays me off, or should I accept in good faith and give them all to you now?" "I can cover the remaining amount," I replied eagerly, with politeness and superficial calm, since my erection was tormenting me terribly as it played with the buttons of my shirt and she looked deep into my eyes. She couldn't accept that, she said in her slightly husky and extremely sensual voice. She decided to give me all the clothes right then for half the money, as long as I would bring the rest myself whenever my sister was more available. With airy movements, she packed them into a large bundle, making sure, however, to show me her little skirt or her juicy tits every so often as she bent over to prepare it. I might have lost my mind, but she cut me enough slack for me to ask her if she did alterations on men's clothing as well. I had a couple of trousers that were too wide on me and another new one that needed a little shortening. With the brightest smile in the world, she informed me she would do it with great pleasure, and even for free, since it wasn't much work and besides, my sister was one of her best customers. I stubbornly refused for her to work without payment for me, and she ended the conversation with a simple: "We'll see when the time comes."

I took the clothes to my sister and then straight home, without staying a single minute to hear her thanks. I immediately ran to the toilet and jerked off a thick load to relieve myself from the horniness that had been tormenting me for so long. That same evening, I picked out the trousers that needed alterations and put them in a travel bag, to have them ready the next day when I planned to go back to the seamstress. I slept like a baby and dreamed of Flora, my little seamstress, giving me blowjobs and us fucking passionately. In the morning when I woke up, my underwear was soaked with cum. I changed and went to work.

Late in the afternoon, after taking a hot shower, I shaved and splashed on cologne by the handful. I dressed with the utmost care, slung the bag over my shoulder, and headed for Flora's place, which was also her workshop at the same time. The moment I touched the doorbell, she opened it immediately as if she knew it was me or as if she was expecting someone else. From the warm smile and the heartiness she showed, I was sure she had me in mind when she heard me ring. I stepped inside confidently this time and took my trousers out of the travel bag. She took them in her hand and caressed them gently. She asked me to put them on so she could mark the spots that needed alteration. I was embarrassed to change in front of her, and she showed me a screen behind which I could do it just fine. I put on the first pair of trousers, which were longer than they should be, and stood in the middle of the room. She walked a circle around me, thoughtfully shaking her head. Then she took a measuring tape and began to measure. She came behind me, passed the tape around my waist, and stretched her head over my shoulder to see how many points it was. She even rose onto her tiptoes, and I felt her hot breath on my neck. She immediately dropped to her knees and, instead of just turning up the cuffs and putting in pins, measured the length of my leg. With the back of her hand, she touched my genitals like that, and my cock stirred, aroused. She neither said nor did anything to show she noticed. However, she measured the thickness of my thigh, with her face a breath away from my crotch, which was swelling impressively from my erection, which as time went on was growing longer and hardening more and more. I was trying to regain control of my body, although my breathing was already coming with difficulty.

Suddenly, Flora threw the measuring tape over her shoulder and unbuttoned my trousers. She pulled down the zipper and lowered them to my ankles. She cupped my cock over my tight briefs, squeezed it, and kissed it tenderly. I pushed my pelvis toward her, and she immediately pulled down my underwear to my knees. She flicked her tongue into the division of my balls and then took my balls into her fiery mouth. She then licked the entire length of my cock and sucked on my swollen cockhead before disappearing it into her throat. She gave me an incredible blowjob, and when she judged I was one hundred percent ready for fucking, she stood up and threw herself into my arms. We kissed wildly, passionately, and at the same time, I pulled down the zipper of her dress on her back. I bared her shoulder and covered it with small, tender kisses. I let the dress slide to the floor and cupped her firm tits. I squeezed the tight flesh, and her large, pointy nipples sprang out, hard and aroused. I bent down and captured them with my lips, while she took off my shirt. I dragged her to the couch and laid her on her back. I buried my face between her wide-open legs and began to eat her out. I hammered repeatedly on her long clitoris with my tongue, gently bit her tender pussy lips, and probed the wet walls of her hot cunt. She tossed her pelvis high and pressed my head into her sweet pussy. I slid on top of her and plunged my cock into her steamy pussy hole. She dug her sharp nails into my back, moaning pleasurably, and scored my skin. I thrust in and out of her vigorously, and with one hand I kneaded her juicy tits, while with the other I frantically squeezed her full ass cheeks. I dragged my fingers into the deep cleft of her ass and gave her a finger in the ass. She growled wildly from the intense horniness and whispered hoarsely in my ear to take her from behind.

"Open up my little ass," she said, breathless, and bit my earlobe. I swirled my finger once more in her bottom, and at that moment, I sprang up. She lifted her legs high and rested them on my shoulders. She raised her pelvis even more and offered me her wide-open, rosy asshole. I pressed my cockhead against her sphincter and rubbed it forcefully. Then I took a deep breath and gently pushed my cock into her hole. It went all the way in, and my balls fell heavily onto her plump ass cheeks. I heard her groan lustfully, and she immediately began to rock her pelvis upward and rotate it in circles. The walls of her narrow, long channel tightened around the thick shaft of my cock and swallowed it inch by inch. I thrust two or three more times forcefully and came with a rush inside her. I fell heavily on top of her and pressed my lips to hers. I left my cock in her ass until it softened, and then I pulled it out. Then she grabbed it and began to suck it with her incredible blowjob lips. I got hard again and was ready for a second round of fucking, but at that moment, the phone rang. A customer of hers would be coming in about ten minutes. We barely had time to tidy ourselves up, and I left before the other woman arrived. But I went back the next day, supposedly to finish the fitting for the trousers that needed alterations. Needless to say, the trousers were done quickly, and done well, since her hands are skilled at sewing too, apart from all the other things they do well, but I didn't stop my daily visits to her house. Except, of course, for those times when she's off from her work and we go out, or go to my apartment to tear each other apart.