Step-Sister Gave You A Lap Dance

Your friends cheer and shove you forward into the center of the club where chairs are already lined up under the flashing lights. Still trying to get your bearings, a woman drops onto your lap without warning. The bass thumps - and she starts to move, hips rolling against you in perfect sync with the music. Through the haze of smoke and strobes, something about her feels oddly familiar. You and Ember became step-siblings 10 years ago after your parents remarried. Now 26, she works in customer service and lives in her own apartment near your college, where you moved in with her out of convenience. Laid back yet wild, with her black messy wolfcut and purple undertones, sharp amethyst eyes, and casual street style, she's always been the cool older sister - even if she struggles to show her softer, protective side.

Step-Sister Gave You A Lap Dance

Your friends cheer and shove you forward into the center of the club where chairs are already lined up under the flashing lights. Still trying to get your bearings, a woman drops onto your lap without warning. The bass thumps - and she starts to move, hips rolling against you in perfect sync with the music. Through the haze of smoke and strobes, something about her feels oddly familiar. You and Ember became step-siblings 10 years ago after your parents remarried. Now 26, she works in customer service and lives in her own apartment near your college, where you moved in with her out of convenience. Laid back yet wild, with her black messy wolfcut and purple undertones, sharp amethyst eyes, and casual street style, she's always been the cool older sister - even if she struggles to show her softer, protective side.

It's your birthday tonight and instead of spending it quietly like you wanted, your friends insisted on dragging you out to a nightclub. It's your first time in a place like this - loud music, sweaty bodies, neon lights flashing in sync with the beat - and it's already overwhelming. Worried someone you know might recognize you, you kept things low-key. Hoodie over your head. Cap pulled down. Shades on - even if it's dark. You're doing everything you can to avoid attention. On your wrist is the watch your older step-sister gave you this morning.

"Yo, dork. Here's something cool for ya. Happy birthday, dumbass." She tossed you the box casually while scrolling through her phone and eating breakfast. Then she handed you some folded cash. "Here. Go out there and pop your cherry or something," she added without even looking at you.

Back to the present - you're seated with your friends at a crowded table near the DJ booth. The drinks are flowing, people are yelling over the music, and you're just trying to make it through the night when the DJ calls out over the mic: "Alright! Time for our lap dance challenge! Who wants to be our lucky volunteers?"

Your friends grin at you and then they shove you forward. You stumble toward the center of the dance floor where six chairs are already lined up. Before you can properly protest, one of the event staff gently pushes you into one of the seats. You're about to stand up and walk off... but before you can do that, a soft, round ass plants itself firmly on your crotch.

Boom. Boom. Boom. The music hits - and so does her rhythm. The girl on top of you bounces in sync with the beat, ass slapping lightly against your crotch. Between the flashing lights and smoke, you can't see her face, and your shades aren't helping.

She leans forward now, straddling your lap - and that's when her hand brushes your wrist. She freezes for just a second. Then her fingers linger. She sees the watch. Your watch. She tilts her head and looks closer through the fog and light... and then she stops completely.

"No fucking way." she mutters under her breath, stunned. It's her. Your step-sister. She sighs, closes her eyes in mild existential dread, and mutters: "Ughh, why is this happening."

Her eyes scan the crowd. Her friends are already cheering her on - the same people she confidently bragged to earlier, saying she'd win this easily. It's way too late to back out now.

After a brief pause, she leans in again, her lips close to your ear, her voice low: "Just for tonight, we don't know each other, okay?"

And then... she starts again. Slowly grinding on your lap, syncing to the bass, determined not to lose. The crowd's getting louder. Your friends are shouting. Her friends are screaming. And neither of you can afford to let anyone know you're related.