Victorious: Song Remains the Same
She doesn’t write her s*ster a song this time. Tori’s learned her lesson, even though she still refuses to succumb to Trina’s subtle — no, check, her in your face demands for a sequined coat by some designer from Qatar that will cost just enough to make their parents default on the credit card she’d have to steal to purchase it.
“I’d look awesome in this,” Trina gushes, jumping onto Tori’s bed and waving some fashion magazine in Tori’s face.
Tori honestly thinks she’d look ridiculous — check again, more ridiculous than usual in it, but since it’s Trina’s birthweek, she says nothing. “Why not this?” she says, pointing to a blouse that she might consider begging, borrowing and stealing to buy.
It’s really cute, but Trina shakes her head. “I can’t wear that cut. My boobs won’t show.”
“So?” Tori responds, rolling her eyes.
With a short laugh, Trina pulls off her shirt and without the slightest bit of embarrassment, shows what she means, like a lawyer explaining Exhibit A. “When you got a pair like these, it’s very unfair to the world not to do everything in one’s power to make sure they displayed to their best advantage at all times.” She lifts and squeezes them as Tori sighs. “Here, feel. They are awesome.”
A wry grin crosses Tori’s face. She reaches out and brushes her fingers over the soft skin, thumbing a dusky nipple which peaks beneath her touch. “They’re very nice,” she replies agreeably, wondering how Trina got her — and everyone else — so well-trained when it comes to her birthweek.
And every other day of the year.
Trina inhales noisily at Tori’s touch, her gaze turning sharp with pleasure. “Use your mouth,” she whispers.
Tori only thinks for a moment because they’ve played these games before, but not in a while. It is Trina’s special week though and Tori doesn’t protest when Trina leans over her, breast in hand, hovering over her mouth, encouraging her. Tori goes at it with enthusiasm, licking and nibbling between sucks and Trina is breathing hard over her, sneaking a hand down to finger herself beneath her designer shorts.
A few shifts in position and Tori gets Trina’s thigh between her legs where she can rub herself without distraction, concentrating on kneading Trina’s breasts with one hand as she tongues them, her other hand joining Trina’s to circle her clit, slick and hot. Her s*ster starts making high-pitched noises and Tori warns her with a look, then by stopping when she whines too loudly.
This quiets her very effectively. Tori pushes her hand further down, using her middle finger to plunge deep while her thumb keeps circling. Her jaw and hand start to ache, but she keeps going, pushing herself harder against Trina’s solid thigh as a reward.
“Come on,” she mumbles around Trina’s breast and her s*ster makes a wild sound as she stiffens and throbs around her slippery fingers, eyes wide with delight.
With grit teeth, Tori pushes herself hard, as Trina soothes back her sweat-drenched hair. “Go baby. Come, little s*ster. It’s good,” she whispers and Tori comes suddenly, clinging onto Trina’s shoulders, gasping. “Yeah, that’s it,” Trina smiles as Tori comes down, very satisfied with herself, even though she, as usual, didn’t actually do anything. “Who’s your best friend, huh?”
Breathless, Tori responds, “You are.”
“That’s damn right,” Trina replies, throwing herself back on the bed, as happy as a cat in a shaft of sunlight. “Now figure out how to get me that jacket, will you, Tori-bear?”
“Uh-huh,” Tori responds, another song already writing itself in her head. It’s the gift that will keep on giving and if that doesn’t go over…
They can always do this again.
She likes it when they touch each other.