The Final Step In Heels | The Former Husband

 

Sloane stood beside Luci, watching the blonde tilt her face toward the gold-framed mirror. Her lips parted, breath shallow, eyes flickering with nervous thrill. Sloane’s dark gaze locked with hers in the reflection.

Luci’s hair was swept into an elegant side bun, lashes long and curled. The tight champagne-pink dress hugged her slim waist and swelled over her ass. What was left of her cock was tucked into lace panties. Her new breasts strained against the straps, fully on display. She was an illusion made real.

“You’re trembling, babygirl,” Sloane said, uncapping her lipstick. “Talk to me.”

“I’m not yours anymore,” Luci whispered.

“You are mine, sweetie,” Sloane purred, holding out the tube as Luci clung to her side. “Just not my husband anymore. You’re my Lucienne. My gorgeous, stunning Luci.” the blonde exhaled, lips parting as Sloane traced them with color. She stopped to brush her thumbs over Luci’s chest. The blonde bit her lip, whimpering.

“Remember when these girls first came in? You almost cried, said you weren’t ready.”

“I wasn’t.”

“You were perfect. Little B-cups poking through camisoles.” Sloane met her gaze. “And now look at you.”

Hormones, spa days, corsets, and gym hours had made her waist tiny and sculpted her ass. Luci’s face was softened by makeup and framed by golden hair. “You’re not a man anymore,” Sloane said. “The first time in heels, you trembled like the cutest sissy. Now? You slay.”

Luci shivered under the creamy stroke. Sloane cupped her face. “I did all this. I refused to let that pretty girl inside you stay hidden.” Their eyes met in the mirror. “You loved how your date was looking at you, didn’t you?” Luci nodded, trembling. “You love being made up, being pretty. Those lips aren’t for me… they’re for him.”

“I want it,” Luci whispered.

“I know you do. He’s going to wreck you, pin you down, stuff you so full you forget you have a cock.”

“I’m scared.”

“You should be,” Sloane smiled, finishing with gloss. “He’s huge. When they take us home, I want to hear you moan and scream his name through the walls.  You’ll definitely hear me screaming mine.”

They took one last look in the mirror. Two perfect women. Stunning. Hungry. Arm in arm, they stepped into the night. Sisters in heat. Neither would ever go back.