Japanese Girl Meets Lesbian Sister – First Wet Pussy Attraction & Confessions - Part 2

Read previous part: Japanese Virgin Pussy Fucked by Boyfriend – But She Only Cums on Tongue

A few weeks had passed since that first night in my apartment. Paul and I were officially “together.” We held hands on campus, he kissed me goodbye after class, and we fucked regularly-sometimes in my bed, sometimes quick and sweaty in his car after late study sessions. Every single time was the same. His tongue and fingers made me shake and squirt all over his face. I’d cum so hard my vision would blur and my Japanese pussy would gush sweet, sticky cream that he licked up like it was candy. But the moment his thick cock pushed inside me, the magic died. It felt full, warm, even a little pleasant… but never enough. Never that deep, toe-curling, mind-melting pleasure I craved. I kept faking it every time-moaning louder, clawing his back, whispering “harder, baby, your cock feels so good” until he exploded inside me and flooded my tight cunt with hot ropes of cum. Afterward I’d lie there smiling, his seed slowly leaking out of me, while inside my head the same question screamed louder and louder: What the fuck is wrong with me?
I still liked Paul. He was sweet, funny, smart, and he treated me like I was the most beautiful girl on campus. But the sex… the actual fucking… left me emptier every time.
One Saturday he invited me to meet his family.
“They’re gonna love you,” he said, kissing my forehead as we drove up the winding road into the hills outside the city. “Mom already thinks you’re adorable because of your accent.”
The house appeared after a long driveway lined with tall palm trees. It was a beautiful two-story modern home with huge windows, a red-tiled roof, and a wide wooden deck that overlooked a private canyon. The air up here smelled different-cleaner, drier, with the sweet scent of wild sage and eucalyptus blowing in the warm breeze. Below us the city sparkled in the distance under a perfect blue sky. Their backyard had a sparkling turquoise pool, lounge chairs, and a big outdoor grill. It felt like something out of an American movie. Nothing like the tiny, crowded apartments back in Tokyo.
Paul’s mom, Karen, hugged me the second I walked in. She smelled like vanilla and sunscreen. “Aiko! We’ve heard so much about you. Come in, sweetheart.” His dad, Mike, shook my hand with a big friendly grin and offered me a beer. Everything felt warm and easy. No pressure. No judgment. Just loud laughter and the smell of steaks sizzling on the grill.
Then I met her.
Poly.
Paul’s younger sister. Nineteen years old, same age I was when I first arrived in the US. She was a little taller than me, maybe 5’6”, with sun-kissed golden-brown hair that fell in messy waves down her back, bright hazel eyes, and a body that made my stomach flip the moment I saw her. She wore tiny denim shorts that hugged her round, firm ass and a cropped white tank top that showed a strip of smooth, tanned stomach. Her tits were fuller than mine-probably C-cups-pressing nicely against the thin fabric, nipples faintly visible in the cool air-conditioning. Her legs were long and toned from years of swimming. When she smiled at me, two little dimples appeared in her cheeks.
“Hi, I’m Poly,” she said, voice soft and a little husky. She stepped forward and hugged me like we’d known each other forever. Her body pressed against mine for just a second-soft breasts squishing lightly into my smaller ones, the scent of her skin hitting me like a drug. She smelled incredible: coconut body lotion, a hint of sweet vanilla perfume, and something warmer underneath-clean girl sweat from the California sun, faint and feminine. My pussy clenched hard the instant I breathed her in. A rush of wetness soaked my panties so fast I had to squeeze my thighs together.
“Nice to meet you,” I managed, my voice coming out smaller than I wanted. My cheeks felt hot.
We all ate outside on the deck. The sun was setting, painting everything orange and pink. Paul sat beside me, his hand on my thigh under the table, but my eyes kept drifting to Poly. She laughed easily, tossed her hair, and when she licked barbecue sauce off her finger I couldn’t stop staring at her glossy pink lips. Every time she looked at me I felt that magnetic pull again-like my whole body was iron and she was the strongest magnet I’d ever felt. My nipples tightened under my sundress. My clit throbbed gently, already swollen.
After dinner Paul and I went up to his room. It was big, with posters on the walls and a king-sized bed that smelled like his cologne. We fucked again-same routine. He ate my pussy until I came twice, screaming into his pillow so his family wouldn’t hear. Then he slid his cock inside me and I faked every moan while he pounded away. When he finally filled me with cum I kissed him and told him it was amazing. He fell asleep quickly, naked and satisfied, his softening dick still shiny with our mixed juices.
But I couldn’t sleep.
My body was still buzzing, my pussy still wet and needy, but not for him. I slipped on one of Paul’s oversized t-shirts and quietly left the room. The house was dark and quiet except for the low hum of the TV downstairs. I padded barefoot down the stairs and found Poly curled up on the huge sectional couch in the living room, watching some late-night show. She was wearing tiny sleep shorts and a thin camisole, her nipples clearly outlined against the fabric. Her legs were tucked under her, smooth and golden.
She looked up and smiled that dimpled smile. “Couldn’t sleep either?”
I shook my head and sat down on the other end of the couch, leaving a little space between us. The TV cast soft blue light across her skin. The living room smelled like the house-lemon floor cleaner, faint chlorine from the pool outside, and now Poly’s warm girl scent that made my head spin.
We started talking.
At first it was light-about Paul, about how annoying he was as a big brother when they were kids. She told me stories about them sneaking into the neighbor’s pool at night, about how Paul used to carry her on his shoulders in the ocean when she was little. Her laugh was soft and musical. Every time she shifted, her camisole rode up a little more, showing more of her flat stomach. I kept catching the faint scent of her pussy-sweet, clean, a little musky-whenever she moved her legs. It was driving me insane.
As the minutes turned into hours, the conversation got deeper. We talked about growing up. She told me how free their family was-how they’d always accepted her exactly as she was. “Mom and Dad have known I’m into girls since I was fifteen,” she said casually, like it was the most normal thing in the world. “They were cool with it from day one. No drama.”
I swallowed hard. In my conservative Japanese family, even thinking about another girl that way would have been shameful. Here it was just… accepted. The contrast made my chest tight.
We talked about nature. I told her how much I missed the quiet forests near Mount Fuji, the smell of pine and moss after rain. She lit up. “I love that too. There’s this hiking trail not far from here-super quiet, just trees and birds and the smell of earth. We should go sometime.” Her eyes sparkled when she said it.
The more we talked, the stronger the pull became. I felt it like a physical force in my belly, tugging me toward her. Every time she laughed I wanted to lean in and kiss the sound right out of her mouth. My pussy was soaked again, lips puffy and slippery inside my panties. I could smell my own arousal mixing with hers in the warm room air. I kept crossing and uncrossing my legs, trying to hide how turned on I was getting just from her voice, her scent, the way her tits moved when she breathed.
At one point she stretched, arms above her head, and her camisole lifted enough to show the soft undersides of her breasts. I stared. My mouth actually watered. I wanted to bury my face between them, to smell her skin, to taste her nipples. The thought shocked me so much I looked away fast, heart hammering.
What the hell is happening to me? I thought. This is Paul’s sister. I’m dating Paul. I’m not… I can’t be…
But I couldn’t stop. The magnet was too strong. Every word she spoke pulled me closer. I controlled it-barely-by gripping the edge of the couch, digging my nails into the fabric so I wouldn’t reach out and touch her thigh.
We talked until the clock on the wall showed 2:07 AM. Three hours had disappeared like nothing. My throat was dry from laughing and whispering. Poly yawned cutely and stretched again. “We should probably sleep. Guest room is all yours, but if you want company I can stay down here with you.”
I almost said yes. The words were on my tongue. Instead I smiled shyly. “I think I’ll head up. Thank you for talking with me. I really liked it.”
“Me too,” she said softly, her hazel eyes locking onto mine for a long second. The air between us felt thick, electric. I could smell her breath-sweet from the soda she’d been drinking-and underneath it, that warm feminine scent that made my clit throb painfully.
We added each other on Facebook right there on the couch. Her profile picture was her smiling on a beach, hair wet, bikini top barely containing her tits. I said goodnight and forced myself upstairs.
Back in Paul’s room he was still snoring softly. I crawled into bed beside him, but sleep wouldn’t come. Instead I opened Facebook on my phone, brightness turned all the way down. For the next thirty minutes I stalked every inch of Poly’s profile. Old photos from high school-her in a tiny cheer uniform, legs spread just enough to make me bite my lip. Pictures from pool parties where she wore bikinis that showed the perfect curve of her ass. Posts about hiking, about girls she thought were cute, about pride parades with rainbow flags. I zoomed in on every photo, heart racing, pussy aching. I could still smell her on my skin from that hug earlier-coconut and warm girl.
I put the phone down and lay on my back, staring at the ceiling. Paul’s cum from earlier had dried on my inner thighs, leaving a faint crusty feeling. But my mind wasn’t on him at all.
I kept replaying every moment with Poly. The way her laugh made my stomach flutter. How similar we were-both loving quiet nature, both a little shy underneath the surface, both feeling the weight of expectations. She understood the pressure of being “the good daughter” even if her family was more open. I thought about how her eyes had lingered on me when she talked about the hiking trail. How her voice had softened when she said she liked talking to me.
The questions I’d been pushing down since that first night with Paul came flooding back, louder than ever.
Why don’t I enjoy his cock? Why does his tongue feel amazing but the actual fucking feels like… nothing?
Why did my pussy get so wet the second Poly hugged me? Why can I still smell her and taste the idea of her on my tongue?
Why do I want to crawl into her bed right now and bury my face between her legs more than I’ve ever wanted anything?
I turned onto my side, pressing my thighs together hard. My clit was swollen and slick. Just thinking about Poly’s scent, her smile, her soft tits… I was dripping again. I slid one hand down under the t-shirt and touched myself-two fingers gliding through my creamy folds. I imagined it was Poly’s fingers. I imagined her voice whispering my name while she licked me.
A tiny whimper escaped my lips before I could stop it.
Paul stirred but didn’t wake.
I pulled my hand away, breathing fast, cheeks burning with shame and excitement at the same time.
That night, lying in my boyfriend’s bed with his dried cum still on my skin, I finally admitted it to myself in the dark:
I was falling for Poly. Hard. On the very first day I met her.
And the scariest part? I was starting to wonder if I was a lesbian… or at least not as straight as I’d always believed.
The thought terrified me.
It also made me wetter than I’d ever been in my life.