Notes: My name is Jonah, I am fairly slim, white, with dark hair and eyes, and I turn 27 in the course of this story. My sister's name is Elle, she's 29, petite, and looks a lot like the actress Shailene Woodley. Any and all feedback is welcome and encouraged.
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My sister broke up with her husband a couple of weeks before my birthday. It wasn't planned. She had caught him cheating and, after a few years of less than perfect matrimony, it was the final straw. She showed up one cold December night at my apartment, drenched to the bone, tears and make-up dripping down her face, and a hastily packed bag at her feet.
We've always had a good relationship, and luckily I'm in a position where I can support her while she gets back on her feet. I'm single, but I have a good job, a fairly large apartment in a good building in Brooklyn, and no real money problems. My sister had a lot too, until it was pulled out from under her.
It was actually really nice having her around. She was understandably upset, slept most of the day, and would retreat back to her room every now and then to be alone and cry, but we got to hang out more than we had since we were kids. Curling up on the couch under a blanket, with a fire burning in the fireplace, watching movies and drinking brandy alexanders (her favourite). It was really cosy. I haven't ever bothered hanging Christmas decorations since I got my own place, but she convinced me to get some and we spent an evening getting my place feeling properly festive. A Christmas tree, lights, candles, tinsel, holly, all that stuff. She took it upon herself to cook for me as her way of paying me back, so I got to enjoy a home-cooked meal every night, with good company and drinks. It was great! We settled into a really nice little domestic routine.
It was my 27th birthday on the 20th, and my friends had organized a night out for me, returning back to my apartment for drinks afterwards. My sister insisted I go, that she'd be fine, that she'd stay in the guest room until it was over. It took some convincing, but I eventually agreed to it. I hadn't been out with my friends in weeks.
We took some cars into Manhattan and then trucked through the snow and the blisteringly cold wind to my favourite bar, got loaded, sung at the piano and toasted to my health. It was a lot of fun, and throughout the night my friends kept hinting at some really great surprise still to come. "Just you wait!" they'd say with a smirk. When we eventually got back to my place, we were all in really high spirits and pretty drunk. My friends got the party going in my living room while I went to check on Elle. She was watching a movie on her laptop in bed and nursing a bottle of Ketel One. She smiled at me and wished me a happy birthday, somewhat slurring her words.
"I can tell the guys to call it a night if you want some company," I offered, but she shook her head and beamed at me, seeming genuinely happy for the first time since she got here.
"Nuh uh. I'm good. I've got The Notebook and I've got a drink and a buzz going. Go have fun!"
A while later the doorbell chimed and a cheer went up among my friends. "I take it my surprise has arrived!" I laughed, and went to get the door, but was ushered back to the couch by my buddies, while another friend went down the hall to the door. When he returned, he was joined by two incredibly beautiful young women. They both looked Scandinavian, and their accents confirmed my suspicion. Strippers. Real original, guys. My friend whispered that they were fucking expensive, so at least they were high class strippers! They put some dance music on the hi-fi, everyone gathered around, forming a circle with the girls in the middle, and a friend distributed a stack of one dollar bills among the guys. The girls got to work, slowly stripping each other, grinding on the guys and paying special attention to me, the birthday boy. My friends had selected the girls to match my exact preferences in body type. They were fucking knock-outs. Perky little tits and perfect, round, juicy bubble butts. One of them got up on the couch in front of my and smothered my face with her naked ass, while the other one knelt down in front of me and buried her face into my still-clothed crotch. I was in heaven.
"All right, boys," said my friend, "It's time to give the birthday boy some privacy!" And with that they all stood and started to get their coats, despite my protests that they stay. "Enjoy the girls, Jonah. Happy birthday!" They all made their way to the door, singing and laughing and merry making, while the girls started unbuckling my belt and tugging off my trousers. By the time the door closed on the last of them, I was sitting back on my couch, naked from the waist down, with two gorgeous Scandinavian girls licking and sucking on my incredibly hard cock and aching balls. Not a bad birthday present, I'll give them that.
I was pretty drunk by this point, my head was swimming. One of the girls got back up on the couch above me and put her pussy on my mouth, wrapping her hands behind my head as I buried my tongue as far up inside her as I could get it. She tasted and smelt amazing, and her friend was a gifted little cocksucker.