Sister Act (Heather's POV)

NOTE: I've decided to rewrite some the chapters from other characters points of view. This chapter is the same as the other Sister Act, but told from Heather's POV instead of Sam's.

Waking up from a much-needed nap, I stretched languidly, the sunlight filtering through the curtains casting a warm glow on my face. My phone vibrated on the nightstand, and I saw a text from my brother, Sam. He was two years older than me and had been wrapped up in his own world, since he’d moved to our deceased Aunt Emily’s home. We hadn't seen much of each other lately, so it was a pleasant surprise to hear from him.

The message read:

"Hey Heather! It's good to hear from you. I'd love to see you this summer, and a visit sounds great, but I need to warn you, this place is a bit... different."

I quickly replied, glancing around my dorm room filled with volleyball gear and textbooks:

"Different? What's that supposed to mean? I just need a place to relax and don't feel like being stuck with Mom and Dad all summer."

Sam hesitated before responding, which piqued my curiosity even more:

"OK. This town is VERY liberal. The attitude towards sex, in particular, is very open and different from what you're used to, and you may find it a bit shocking. If you still want to come, I'll send you a visitor's pass."

I couldn't help but laugh, thinking about the coed dorms and showers I'd been living with:

"Ha! I just spent two years in college with coed dorms and showers. I don't think your town will be a shock to my system."

Sam seemed to find that amusing but reassured me:

"You'd be surprised, but no problem. I'll send you a pass today."

"Thanks bro! Can't wait."

As promised, Sam arranged for my visitor's pass. We set my arrival date for the following week. I wondered what this unique culture would be like, but I was excited to experience it firsthand.

A week later, I finally made it to Eden Valley’s front gate. The trip was a bit of an adventure—first landing at this tiny local airport, then bumping along a winding back road for what felt like forever. The narrow path twisted through thick clusters of tall pines and rugged trails before opening up to this stunning valley surrounded by jagged mountains. At the valley’s end, tucked away, was a community shielded by a tall concrete wall, with a sleek, modern gate and an electronic kiosk right there. As I stepped up to the kiosk, I paused for a second, taking a deep breath before pressing the single red button on its shiny surface. Almost immediately, the screen flickered to life, showing the friendly face of a pretty blonde woman who greeted me warmly. “Good afternoon, how can I help you?” she asked, her voice smooth and welcoming, echoing through the crisp valley air.

“I’m Heather… uh, Sam’s sister? He said you’d be expecting me,” I said.

“Of course, Heather. I’m Cheryl. Come on in and I’ll come out to meet you!” she said with a sweet grin.

I watched the gate swing open as our airport driver pulled up and let me out in front of the first building on the left—clearly the town hall. Right on cue, Cheryl emerged from its front doors, looking like a vision in motion.

Okay, so if I’d been the jealous sort—which, seriously, I’m not—I might’ve gone green on the spot. She was just a couple of inches shorter than me and a few years older, but absolutely stunning in that effortless way confident people have. Her pleated, tennis-skirt–style uniform hit mid-thigh, and her button-down blouse was flirtatiously open at the top. Golden curls framed her face, and she walked like she knew exactly how those long, tanned legs show best. I may have noticed she wasn’t wearing a bra—her hips swayed as she moved, and her blouse did a tiny, undeniable bounce.

“Come right inside, and I’ll give you a little orientation about our community,” she said, her voice warm and unhurried.

Inside, the air felt calm. To my left, a sleek reception desk sat between two potted plants that brought a fresh green touch to cream walls. To my right, a cozy waiting area beckoned: a plush sofa in soft fabric, a big flat-screen TV, and gentle ambient lighting that made everything feel soothing. Cheryl led me to the sofa and motioned for me to sit.

“Well, Heather, I’m so sorry about your Aunt Emily,” she said, her kind eyes meeting mine. “But your brother’s fit in wonderfully. Eden Valley is very special—we do a quick video for newcomers to clear up any confusion. We also regulate who’s allowed in—you’ll see why in a minute.” She handed me a chilled bottle of Eden Valley Spring Water, cool droplets beading on the glass. “Drink this. Let me know when you’re finished with the video.” Then she bounced back to her post behind the desk, her steps light and sure.

Parched, I downed the water as the video began. Cheerful cartoons danced across the screen, telling the story of Eden Valley: founded in the early 1920s in a Colorado valley embraced by soaring mountains. Next to town lay Lake Harmony, fed by snowmelt and hidden underground springs—the source of everything.

The founders, calling themselves the Seekers of Light, had fled persecution to build a sanctuary here. But they soon discovered Lake Harmony’s water did more than sustain life. A unique mix of minerals and compounds altered everyone who drank it: illnesses vanished, libido soared, and inhibitions evaporated. Strangely, it also prevented pregnancy—no births in almost a century—and no one caught STDs. That water-driven openness gave rise to a culture unlike any other: unrestrained intimacy, anytime, with anyone. It explained the tight visitor policies—once you drank the water, you either stayed or struggled to readapt to the outside world. The video noted that your first sip delivers an immediate lift: desire spikes, shyness fades. After three to five days, those effects become permanent. Casual passion turns into everyday life. By the time the credits rolled, I was leaning back, heart pounding, my mind buzzing. Eden Valley was nothing like home—but here I was, staring into a whole new world.

At the conclusion of the orientation video, a list of town rules was shown, the first three of which I already knew:

No minors – admission is restricted to those 18 and older

Privacy is crucial – no information about the community or its members should be shared without the community's collective consent

Visitors must receive community approval before entering

Sex is allowed at any time and place with anyone, provided all parties consent and safety is not compromised (sex while driving is discouraged)

Marriages and partnerships are permitted and encouraged, but monogamous relationships are discouraged and impractical

Sexual interactions among family members, though not promoted, are considered normal and almost unavoidable

I staggered back, utterly stunned. My mind scrambled, convinced this had to be one of Sam’s trademark pranks—he’d always been the ultimate trickster. I was just about to call Cheryl out, to tell her the jig was up, when a slow, impossible heat curled deep inside me. I glanced at my empty water bottle—my pulse thundering—and realized this might be painfully, deliciously real. Cheryl’s presence unraveled everything I thought I knew about myself. I’d never been interested in girls beyond a couple of drunken dares in college, but she…she was a different breed: ravishing, magnetic, utterly self-assured. I could practically feel my skin burning as I moved toward her.

By the reception desk, she was rubbing one hand beneath her skirt, her movements languid and teasing. When she caught my eyes, she grinned—a wicked, knowing curl of her lips—then slowly withdrew her fingers and brought them to her mouth, tasting her own slick shine. My breath hitched; heat pooled low in my belly.

“Well, Heather,” she purred, voice low and velvety, “what do you think?”

I swallowed hard. “Is this for real? Or is Sam behind some twisted setup?”

Cheryl’s smile deepened. She beckoned me with a single, sinuous finger. “No tricks here, darling. Everything you see, feel, taste is as real as your next heartbeat. Come closer—let me prove it to you.”

Heart hammering, I obliged. She slid around the desk with feline grace. I was wearing my favorite short blue spandex volleyball shorts and a snug white crop top—clothes that hugged every curve I’d sculpted at the gym. Cheryl reached out, thumbs hooking the waistband of my shorts, and tugged them down my legs in one smooth motion. My cheeks burned at the sudden chill of the air against my bare skin.

Leaning close, she trickled her slick fingers over my folds, her touch both featherlight and insistent. My nerve endings ignited as she circled my swollen, throbbing entrance, coaxing my wetness higher. Then she knelt, pressing her mouth against me. Heat and desire surged as her tongue sliced inside, long and expert, tasting me thoroughly. She held my hips, guiding my quaking body closer as she sucked gently, then harder, every movement designed to drive me wild.

I couldn’t hold back—moans spilled out, breath hitching, hands threading through her hair as I urged her deeper. Her tongue coiled around me, exploring every sensitive ridge, and I felt my orgasm building impossibly fast. My vision blurred with pleasure, nerves buzzing, until with a guttural cry I shattered over her mouth, quivering. Hot waves of release roared through me, my body trembling in the wake of that incredible, intimate taste.

“Oh my god…” I gasped, knees weak.

Cheryl stood, winking as she wiped her lips with the back of her hand. “Sweet Heather, this is only the beginning,” she whispered, voice honeyed with promise. I watched, still trembling, as a bead of my release slid down my inner thigh.

When I finally found my legs, I tugged my shorts back up and smoothed my shirt over my still-shaking frame. “Thank you,” I managed, voice husky. “I didn’t know I needed that.”

She laughed soft and low, the sound vibrating in my chest. “Anytime. We have so much more to explore. Now, let Sam know you’ve arrived—he’s been eagerly waiting for you.”

I nodded, still a bit dazed, and waited just inside the door, texting Sam, "Hey bro. That was a helluva orientation! I'm ready to be picked up."

As he pulled up a few minutes later, I noticed how different he looked—more relaxed and at ease than I remembered. I burst out of the glass doors, my long legs carrying me forward with energetic grace. I had grown taller than Sam, nearing six feet.

"Hey," Sam greeted, his tone light and curious. "How was your orientation?"

I hesitated, still processing the experience. "Intense. Is all of that stuff really true?"

Sam nodded, leaning against the car door. "Very true. This is a special place, and I'm still getting used to it. So, who did your orientation?"

I blushed, remembering the unexpected turn of events. "Ummm… Cheryl," I admitted softly.

Sam smiled teasingly. "Cheryl was very thorough during mine."

I confessed, my words tumbling out in a rush. "Yeah. I’m a little embarrassed to admit it, but Cheryl… she ate me out, and it was fucking fantastic. I still don’t know why I said yes when she asked because I’ve never really been into girls. My friends and I have kissed a few times when we were drunk at parties, but I’ve never been with another woman like that."

Sam's knowing smile told me he understood exactly what had happened. At his house, he handed me a tall glass of Eden Valley spring water, the cool liquid sliding down my throat, igniting a warmth that pooled between my thighs. In the shower, steam rising around me, I closed my eyes and let my fingers trace where Cheryl's tongue had been. My nipples hardened under the hot spray as I slid two fingers inside myself, my thumb circling my swollen clit. My moans echoed against the tile walls. Through half-closed eyes, I caught Sam's silhouette lingering in the hallway, his breathing heavy, and I spread my legs wider, letting him hear exactly what his sister was doing. Later, sprawled across cool sheets in nothing but tiny shorts that barely covered my ass and a tank top that clung to my still-damp breasts, I drifted to sleep with my hand between my legs, my body aching for what tomorrow promised.