Ay: Mart 2021

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

(I suggest you read my earlier story “Impregnating Niece — Four Surprises” first for continuity)

*

My niece gave birth to a healthy baby boy and a couple of months after he was born I went to visit them. My niece and her husband were beaming with joy at the outcome of my impregnating her. Everyone loved the baby and commented what a good looking little guy he was. And he was growing well suckling his mother’s milk.

My niece looked lovely as a mother. She had put on a bit of weight not too much, but her boobs had definitely grown. She was living at her mother’s place in order to get some help with the baby. I was surprised when the mother came up to me and congratulated me. She told me that my niece had confided in her that I was the father of her baby. She said that she was happy that they had not gone with an anonymous donor.

That out of the way I was quite relieved. The next day everyone had gone to work except my niece and her mother. I was not able to greet my niece in the way I wanted, but now I got the chance. I gave her a hug and kissed her on her lips. Her huge breasts felt nice against my chest and I could not help but grab them and fondle them. I noticed that the moment I did this they began to leak milk.

My niece said that she was having excess production of milk and she had to continuously press some out to relieve the pain. I smiled at her and asked if she needed any help in expressing. She nodded. At that time her mother entered the room and she discussed the situation with her mother and her mother gave me a naughty look.

The mother was in her mid-forties but looked in her mid-thirties. You could tell that she must have had men chasing after her in her younger days. She said something to her daughter and she began to undress. Soon her lactating breasts were open for me to see. They looked amazing and both of the nipples had a drop of milk at the tip.

I went over to my niece who was sitting on the sofa and reached out and pressed her breasts. Milk spurted out from a dozen orifices in all directions. Fearing that the carpet and furniture would get stained, I took my niece by the hand and led her to the kitchen sink. I stood behind her and began to press out the milk into the sink. Milk gushed out of her breasts with every press. My niece’s mother watched fascinated.

After five minutes of pressing I felt the time was right for me to drink from her breasts. I turned my niece around and led her back to the sofa with her mother following. I sat her down on the sofa and knelt in front of her. I remember that she had big nipples but now with the baby suckling they had grown even bigger. I began to lick her nipple tuzla escort and then run the tip of my tongue around her areola. The excitement was too much for her and she could not control the flow of milk which began to ooze out of her nipple.

I quickly covered her nipple with my mouth and began to suck out the milk. It was warm and sweet. The other breast was begging my attention so I switched breasts. In about ten minutes I had emptied both her breasts and my niece heaved a big sigh of relief.

She told me that since the baby was born she had not indulged in sex but now she wanted me to fuck her. At this point the mother interrupted and asked if she could watch our fucking. I said I had no objection. She said that her daughter had told her that I had a nice big cock and she wanted to see for herself. I jokingly said that if she wanted I could do much more than just show her my cock. She jumped at the suggestion and she and her daughter smiled at each other.

Just the thought of depositing my sperm inside these two women was making my cock expand in my pants. We made our way upstairs to the bedroom. My niece removed all her clothes and so did her mother. With both the women naked and sitting on the edge of the bed, my niece grabbed my pants and pulled me towards her. She said something to her mom and I could tell that her mom was all excited to see my cock. My niece unzipped me and then put her hand inside my pants, found my cock and slid him out. Her mother opened her mouth and eyes wide in surprise.

My niece offered my cock to her mother who wrapped her hand around my cock. She began to jerk me up and down slowly looking up at me and smiling. She liked my big, thick cock. She also had not experienced circumcised cock and was fascinated by it. She began circling the head of my cock with her fingers. Her daughter said something to her in their native language and the next thing I knew was my nieces mother had taken my cock in her mouth and was sucking it up and down. She stopped for a few seconds and said something to her daughter.

She had told her that it was great sucking on my cut cock. They both took turns at sucking my cock. As the mother was sucking my cock I got the niece to suck on my balls.

I gestured to both of them to lie down on the bed. I pointed to my mouth and then to their pussies. I decided to pay attention to the mother’s pussy first. Opening her legs I planted a kiss on her pussy, and then licked her pussy lips to her clitoris. She gasped in enjoyment.

As I was working on the mother, my niece got me up to the doggy position so now I had my mouth buried in the mother’s pussy and my niece lay down between my bended tuzla escort bayan knees and began to suck my cock lying on her back. Oh my god, it was amazing sucking pussy at one end and having my cock sucked by my niece at the other.

I got my niece to lie down next to her mother. Now I began to suck both pussies in turn. While I sucked the mother’s pussy I would finger fuck the niece and vice-versa. I switched between both women and soon the let out a big sigh which told me that she had had an orgasm. I now turned my attention to my niece and soon brought her to her orgasm.

I now wanted to do something I had never done before. I got both women to bring their nipples together and began to suck on both nipples at the same time. It was amazing, my nieces nipple oozing milk while the mothers nice and hard. After doing this for some time, the niece was desperate for me to fuck her. She offered her butt to me in the doggy position and I inched myself forward on my knees. Before entering her I got the mother to suck on my cock making it wet.

I placed the head of my thick cock to the entrance of my niece’s vagina and slowly entered her. She sighed in appreciation. I began to fuck her holding on to her curvy waist while her mother watched me intently. I fucked my niece nice and hard, looking down at my cock going in and out, slapping against her butt. I began to spank her with my right hand as I was fucking her.

My niece yelped and looked back at me smiling. I gave her a couple of more spanks. As I was fucking her I realised that the mother had taken up position next to her daughter inviting me to fuck her. I took out my cock from my niece and moved over and with once smooth motion entered the mother’s vagina and began to fuck her. I spanked her as well and she loved it.

I fucked the mother for a few minutes and then decided that I wanted back into my niece. I took out my dick switched to fucking my niece. After some time I could see the mothers face pleading for me to fuck her. I took out my dripping cock from my niece’s pussy and moved over to fuck the mother again doggy style.

As I was fucking them I asked the mother what positions she had enjoyed in the past and she said that the only position she had been fucked by her husband was the missionary position. I removed my cock from the mother and lay down on the bed and motioned the mother to ride me like a horse.

The mother was quick to catch on. She straddled me and my niece took hold of my cock and guided it into her mother’s pussy. Soon she was bouncing up and down my cock. After some time I asked her to stop and with my cock deep inside her, to turn around and fuck my cock with her escort tuzla back facing me. As the mother was fucking me, my niece straddled my mouth offering her juicy pussy to me. I began to eat her pussy while the mother was fucking my cock. Suddenly I felt a slap on my stomach. In the vigorous thrusting up and down, my cock has slipped out of the mother’s vagina. Quickly she put my cock back in and began fucking again.

My niece now turned to her mother and said something. They began to exchange places. Now I was sucking the mother’s pussy and fucking the daughter. I could hear the slapping sounds each time my nieces butt landed on my stomach with my cock deep inside her.

Soon I could feel I was going to cum. I asked them how they wanted me to cum. They asked that I cum inside both of their pussies. I decided the easiest way to do this was go back to the doggy position.

Seeing both of them in the doggy position side by side was beyond exciting. I inched my way forward and began to fuck the daughter, her tight pussy clinging on to my cock. I fucked her long and hard for a couple of minutes before releasing myself and moving over to the mother. I entered her with one swift stroke and began to fuck her. The mother began to moan with each stroke bringing me to my climax.

I began to ejaculate into the mother. After about five spurts I took out my cock which was still spurting. As I was moving over my spurting cock to the daughter, my cum spurted on to the mother back and another spurt on to the nieces back before I could get my cock inside my niece. Now I finished off inside my niece, my cock completing the ejaculation inside the niece.

Both women had their heads completely down so that my sperm was deep inside them. I extracted myself from my niece and asked them to slowly lift their torsos up. Soon my massive load of semen was dripping down their thighs. The sight of this was absolutely amazing.

The mother said something to the daughter. I was told that the mother had enjoyed my fucking and it was the best fuck she had ever had. She wanted me to fuck her and her daughter whenever I felt like it.

Needless to say during my two week stay I fucked the daughter and mother at every given opportunity, sometimes three, four times a day depending on how much privacy we had. One night when the mother’s husband was in a drunken sleep, I quietly slipped into the bed and fucked the mother side on in her own bed. That was the most exciting thing I had done on my trip. And I was always welcomed into the bed of my niece and her husband.

When the day of my departure came, I bid farewell to everyone and my niece whispered that she and her mother looked forward to my next visit. I said that I would make another trip in six months. My niece said that at that time she wanted me to make her pregnant again. I chuckled and said I could not wait for six months to pass.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Here’s a story that’s been kicking around in my head for many years and finally decided it had to be written. I’m not sure what to make of it other than my reoccurring oedipal issues are back…lol.

I look forward to hearing your comments and criticisms, both positive and negative. As always, this is a work of fiction and all characters exist only within the confines of my imagination. Enjoy!

*

Maybe it’s my Irish blood that makes me an optimist — that helps me believe that no matter how bad things can get, there is always hope for a better day. I’m sure my Da would disagree. He was always a dark soul — morose and brooding and wishing he could return to the “Old Country” one more time. With his dying breath, he was grousing and complaining about the raw deal that life dealt him.

Maybe that’s why I married, Jimmy Halloran. He was the exact opposite of my father — a happy go lucky charmer and an up and coming police officer in the small city I grew up in on the Northeast Atlantic coast. He was always smiling and laughing and his brilliant blue eyes and easy smile literally charmed me out of my panties and off my feet. Alas, Jimmy was no great lover — I enjoyed the sex, but I always felt it was missing something and my orgasms were far and few between — not that I ever let him know. I made him think he was the finest lover in the world. In my optimism, I always thought he would get better at it.

I remained an optimist even when the marriage went sour. My Jimmy lost interest in me sexually after I gave him his long desired son, the apple of my eye, James. I think Jimmy had mother issues and gradually could not bear to be with me sexually after I gave birth and became a mother. In the end, when he was with me, he was completely impotent. He blamed it on me of course. I wasn’t woman enough anymore — I’d let myself go, were his accusations. I’d stand naked in front of my bedroom mirror and know that that charge was a bald lie!

I’m not an immodest person, but I know that I am a good looking woman that got as many longing glances from a man when I was thirty-five as I did when I was twenty! My bright red hair betrays my Irish heritage, red as a fire truck and hanging down in wavy tresses past my shoulders — a thick mane of red hair and my best feature. My face is pleasant enough, with brown-green eyes and pale skin and a wee, button nose. I’ve got a luscious figure that would tries to run to fat, but with lots of work and a hard life, I’ve kept the same twenty-six inch waist I had before I gave birth to my James. I am amply endowed in the tit department — with my heavy, teardrop shaped 38D breasts being what attracted my husband to me in the first place! I stand five foot, nine inches and I’m not ashamed of my legs, although Jimmy forbade me to wear a hemline above the knee.

All in all, I’m a fine looking woman most of the time. Of course, as things went bad between Jimmy and me, there were times I dare not leave the house for fear of someone seeing just how rough Jimmy treated me. Jimmy changed. His happy go lucky attitude vanished to be replaced by something angry and hard bitten. Maybe it was the job — I’ve no illusions about police work — Da was a beat cop for thirty years and many’s the night I sneaked out of bed and heard him pouring his pain out to my mother. What I didn’t know then was how bad a cop Jimmy had become…but that’s getting ahead of myself.

Maybe it was me — that having given him a son and now being a mother, he couldn’t bring himself to fuck me and he could never ask for a divorce and that in the end he was disappointed by James, a quiet and sensitive boy who was totally uninterested in his father’s obsessions with football and boxing. Jimmy declared his feelings often, “The better part of you, boy, ran down your mother’s leg!” The gulf between Jimmy and James widened over the years as James realized what his father was doing to me and resented it. Whatever it was that created Jimmy’s anguish and anger, it provoked in him a terrible hatred and when the hate grew too strong and he was liquored up, well — I wore a lot of sunglasses and long sleeve shirts and stayed indoors for days or weeks at a time.

By the time, James turned ten things seemed to grow worse with each passing day. Jimmy would stay away for days, even weeks at a time and then show up drunk and pissed and oh, Jesus, how he could make me hurt! One would think I’d relish his absence, but James and I lived in constant fear when he was gone of finally hearing his footsteps on the porch, the creaking of the front door opening and what he’d be angry about this time. I found no solace in the Church — my priest admonishing me to “Be a better wife to the man, Charlene! He deserves that much doing the job he does.”

I pressed charges once, after a brutal beating landing me in the emergency room with three cracked ribs, a sprained wrist and a bruised kidney. For one fleeting moment, I thought I might be free of the man bursa escort — but that was the day I learned of the “thin blue line” where the police force protected their own. All that came of that was Jimmy getting a stern reprimand from his precinct commander about minding his personal life with more discretion and Jimmy teaching me that there is lots of ways to inflict terrible pain without leaving marks…at least those that could show. They say the police are better about dealing with spousal abuse these days — I hope so.

Still, I believed that someday, somehow, things could and would change for the better. James was fifteen when I first thought this happened. Jimmy was off duty and sitting in his favorite bar when one side of his face began to sag and he fell off his stool with a massive stroke. The doctors told me he would never completely recover — that he was likely remain paralyzed completely on one side, bedridden for life. Despite all the beatings, it broke my heart to see him so and I accepted my new role as his caretaker, one I would have worked at to my grave, but my troubles were just beginning.

Three months after Jimmy’s stroke, the city prosecutor announced the findings of a police corruption probe and at the heart of it was a small cabal of cops including my Jimmy. He had been neck deep in drugs, gambling and protection scams. He lost his pension/disability and his insurance. We lost our house and our car to something called the RICO statutes. Then it was revealed that Jimmy was also involved in prostitution, running a small string of women out of a sleazy apartment in the worst part of the city.

To add to my humiliation, it was to this apartment that Jimmy had leased for a year in advance where we were forced to retreat to when they seized our home. Can you imagine how it felt to clean that pit up? It was a miserably small one bedroom walk-up apartment on the fourth floor of an apartment building that we shared with drug dealers, hookers, and more roaches and rats than I ever dreamed could exist.

It was a crowded existence too. We had Jimmy in a hospital bed situated in the living room and I would sleep on the couch while James slept on a small bed in the one small bedroom. James and I learned to co-exist within the crowded place and of all the things I think I missed the most — it was having my own bathroom.

Medical bills drained what little savings we had left and we barely managed to scrape by. Jimmy needed around the clock care that we could not afford once his pension and insurance were lost and I couldn’t leave him to take a job to make ends meet. Thank the Lord Jesus for my son, James.

My sweet darling son, James — as good and smart and brave boy as ever lived. He bore the shame and hardship stoically, never speaking a word of complaint, never crying or whimpering. Even when he had to leave his good school and dear friends behind and move into another world of slums and poverty with a joke of a school, he was there for me, helping me deal with it all. And as we faced total and complete poverty, without a word, my sixteen year old son became the man of the house and went out and found a job. He stayed in school — knowing I could never bear it if he dropped out, but at four in the afternoon, he rode a bus down to a local textile mill and using a fake ID, got himself hired out as a common worker on the second work shift.

I honestly don’t know how he did it, but he did. James was a student by day and a factory worker by night, coming home to sleep for a few hours and then do it again. On Friday nights, he’d bring his check home and drop it on the kitchen table. Saturdays and Sundays, he found pick-up jobs to do to bring in much needed cash. And we needed the money. Jimmy was anathema to the city and any hopes from aid and relief agencies were dashed at every turn. When the system turns it back deliberately on you, there is no hope from that end. We barely had enough to pay the rent, buy Jimmy’s medicine and eat, but somehow we did it.

One might think at least with Jimmy being incapacitated, at least there was relief in one sense, but, now we had Jimmy with us 24/7 and his anger was still there, still palpable in his presence. His face was locked into a perpetual sneer and hatred blazed in his eyes. His ability to speak was almost gone, but he could make noises that we quickly were able to interpret as anger or annoyance and I swear upon my soul, a vindictive and self satisfied expression at us being trapped with him in this life.

Feeding him, cleaning his messes, showing him every kindness, it all seemed to enrage him further. He was like a cancer in our lives, slowly eating away our spirit. Over the next two years, my eternal optimism began to fade, especially as I watched my son sacrifice his youth for our well being. It broke my heart to see him come in night after night, exhausted and dirty and yet find the strength to smile at me, kiss my cheek and whisper, “I love you, bursa escort bayan Mom,” before collapsing into bed.

Jimmy slowly got worse — another major stroke rendering him completely incapacitated. His mind was intact and full of the hate that was so evident in his eyes as he angrily glared at me all the time. Still, I persevered and tried to hope for a better life. All that sustained me was the love I had for my son and the love I knew he felt for me. The world might kick us down, but we clung to each other as we struggled to rise back up.

Things changed one Friday night in May, shortly after James turned eighteen. It had been a long day. Jimmy had discovered he could still spit and had spent most of the day amusing himself by trying to spit at me while I fed him or to let it drool from his mouth so I had to clean it up again and again. It was after midnight and having finally seen Jimmy off to sleep, I had changed into my ratty old nightgown when James came through the door, carefully and quietly setting his lunch pail down at the small table in the kitchenette. Not sparing his father more than a cursory glance, James made his way to me and gave me a quick hug and a kiss and whispered, “How are you, Mom?”

I gave him a weary smile and shrugged my shoulders as I replied, “I’m fine, sweetie — he was the usual.”

James nodded, he understood. He tried to give me an equally weary smile, but it only flickered across his lips before disappearing. His eyes stared into mine for a moment, glanced downward quickly and then back to meet mine — his eyes seeming to be so much older than a young man should be. I stiffened suddenly as I realized his downward glance was at my chest and I blushed as I realized that my gown was gaping open and my tall son could look down at my exposed braless breasts. I quickly moved to pull the nightgown closed and whispered, “Sorry, James,” in an embarrassed tone.

My son sighed and nodded. “It’s okay, Mom.” He started to say something, but stopped and said, “I’m whupped, Mom — I’m gonna rack out.”

As he passed me, I reached out and touched his arm. “Son, are you — is everything alright?” My fingers closed and not for the first time was I surprised at how muscular he was — his arms were well defined — not simply the well toned muscle of youth, but the hard muscle of a working man. I felt him shiver slightly.

“I’m fine, Mom — just a long night at work. All I need is a good night’s sleep.”

He leaned over and kissed me on the forehead and whispered, “I love you, Mom.” and slipped off to his room, pulling the door shut behind him. My heart ached for my son and I felt so helpless to ease his weariness and pain. I went about finishing getting ready for bed.

I was about to turn out the light when I heard a commotion outside down in the street. From my window, I couldn’t see anything and I moved to James’s bedroom door and knocked quietly. “James, is everything all right?” I said as I opened up the door. My son was sitting in the window, his room dark. From the dim light from outside, I could tell he was wearing only his boxer shorts. Even though he was partially in shadow, I could see how my son was indeed a man — a well muscled man. I confess my heart beat a little faster and why not. James was handsome and I was still a relatively young woman of forty-three and it’s only reasonable to have a slight physical response to a beautiful, barely clad man…even if it was my son.

“James, what’s going on?” I said softly as I crossed the room coming to stand by his side. “Who’s making all that ruckus?”

I peered over his shoulder and saw three young couples dancing and laughing their way down the street — the young men in tuxedos and the ladies in long formal dresses complete with corsages. The answer hit me like a blow to the stomach even before James could get the words, “It’s Prom night,” past his lips.

Now I thought I knew what was bothering James and I felt the guilt flood over me. I’d been so focused on dealing with my husband I’d forgotten all about what should have been one of the most special nights for my son before he finished school. The tears began streaming down my face as I wrapped my arms around my son from behind and hugged him as I sobbed, “Oh my darling boy. You’ve missed your Prom! I’m so sorry!” I hugged him tight to me, pressing my aching bosom against his bare back.

James let out a sigh as I cried, ashamed of myself and hurting for my son. “Damn your father for all he’s done! You don’t deserve this. I shoulda done something!” I sobbed, hunching myself against him.

My son sighed again and slowly turned in my embrace and I became acutely aware of my breasts, nipples hardening, sliding across his body, his flesh separated from mine only by a thin, threadbare cotton gown. It sent a shiver through my body — a sensation I rarely felt anymore…a sensation that ended in a growing warmth between my legs. James put his arms around me and escort bursa hugged me back and we embraced tightly there on the window sill, James’s face pressed into the soft pillows of my tits, murmuring in a strained voice. “I don’t mind, Mom. It’s okay. I love you and I’ll do whatever it takes to take care of you!”

My son raised his head and I could see the tears in his eyes as he continued. “I don’t care about all that stuff, Mom. All I want is to take care of you, Mom!”

“And you do, James, my dear son, you do,” I whispered. “But you’ve had to sacrifice so much.” I leaned down and kissed his forehead. “I love you, too!”

Suddenly it seemed much warmer in the room and despite the heat, I shivered again. It dawned on me that a handsome, strong man had me in his arms…and a barely clothed man at that. It felt good to press myself against all that hard, warm flesh and I had a terrible urge to look down between my son’s legs and see if he was responding the same way to his mother’s embrace and the thought stunned me! I let my arms fall away and slowly stepped away from him, now incredibly embarrassed. My arms went up and crossed as I didn’t want my own son to see his mother’s thick nipples hard and trying to poke through her thin gown. James let me go reluctantly, a frown crossing his face as he stood up, his arms still momentarily held out.

I trembled as I saw it then. Partly in shadow, but distinct nevertheless, my son’s erection stood out in his boxer shorts! I started to speak and stopped and then whispered in a voice full of strained lust. “You are all a mother could ever hope for, James, my sweet. I’m so proud of you. Get some sleep, dear.” I turned and fled the small room, rushing to the little bathroom and locked myself inside.

I felt all churned up inside — angry at Jimmy for our situation and ashamed at myself for not figuring out a way for James to have a better childhood and aroused as I hadn’t felt in a long time and ashamed of that since it was my own son that had turned me on! I could hardly believe the sudden urges wracking my body, spreading my legs wide as I sat on the toilet and finding my hands down between my legs, rubbing my suddenly wet pussy for several seconds before I realized what I was doing. Fresh tears streamed down my face and I silently cursed Jimmy for putting us into this terrible situation that could lead me to such lurid thoughts.

I had myself a good, long cry and then wiped my eyes and got up. I hurt and ached for my son’s plight and my own lonely existence, but knew there was nothing to do but go on. Life is what life is, all we can do is try to survive it day by day!

I came out of the bathroom and as I passed by my son’s room I heard him cry out, “Oh, God, Mom!”

I responded completely on motherly instinct, hearing pain and distress in my son’s voice and burst into his room without knocking. “James, what’s wro-…” I stopped, stunned by the scene before me and rooted in place from shock.

James was stretched out naked on the bed, his boxer shorts on the floor. His right hand was wrapped tightly around his cock…his hard and bigger than I would have ever believed possible, cock! My son’s eyes were closed and he was covered in sweat and his fist was stroking that long shaft and squeezing that huge, plum colored head and he groaned, “I love you, Mom! Fuck it…fuck me, Mom!” It wasn’t pain I heard, but passion! James was so deep into his fantasy that he didn’t realize I was even in the room.

At that moment, understanding and revelation exploded within me — I suppose it was what they call an epiphany. My head spun as I let the truth burst free within me and assimilated what I had forced myself to never acknowledge.

My son and I had been thrust together into this hostile and crowded environment for two years and in my loneliness and misery, I had denied what should have been obvious. In the span of a heartbeat, a million images of my son looking at me…not just as his mother, but as a woman, a weary, but attractive woman…seeing me in that threadbare and worn nightgown night after night or in a slip and bra as we wiggled past each other going to and fro that tiny bathroom, or asleep on the couch, gown accidently pulled up, exposing my long legs and God knows what else, returned to my mind and I realized with amazement that each glance had been filled with love and more…with a young man’s hungry lust.

And now a million returned glances exploded in my memory — a million moments of desire and longing for my son’s ever maturing and handsome body, a hard and chiseled body that housed a heart that put me first above all else — a heart that truly and completely loved me! And I knew…I knew the real truth — the truth that I had denied every single day for years while I toiled to take care of the sorry son of a bitch I had married, the truth that was real source of my optimism, the wellspring of hope that allowed me to get up everyday and keep going. I loved this boy, my son. I loved him as a mother and I loved him as the man I wished his father had been. I loved James and I wanted and needed him.

“James,” I said softly as he masturbated, still moaning “Mom,” over and over.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

By the time I made my way back to the family reunion, after fucking grandma in the dunes, almost everybody had returned to the hotel, ready to take an afternoon siesta. I walked up the almost empty beach, into the resort, and up to my room to take a shower. Then, I laid down on my bed and fell asleep.

I woke to the phone ringing. It was my dad – – telling me that the reunion dinner was about to begin and where the hell was I. I pulled on some clothes and hit the elevators. Downstairs, the dining room was full of laughing, shouting Culpeppers. I looked around and saw my dad waving toward me. My family had left a seat open at our table right between himself and grandma and. I sat down to greetings from everybody.

Gran looked stunning in a short black dress with a deep neckline, her massive tits on display as well as her soft, rounded shoulders. She gave me a peck on the cheek.

“There’s my chaperone,” she said with a giggle.

“At last,” my dad said gruffly.

I dug into the meal.

As I finished up my roast beef and potatoes, I glanced up to find my mother staring at me.

“Jim,” she said with a bright smile. “You and gran seem to be getting along so well this weekend. It makes me happy.”

I smiled and looked to gran. She was smiling as well. Under the tablecloth she squeezed my thigh.

“Yes, Marie,” gran answered. “What old lady wouldn’t enjoy the company of a handsome young guy like Jim?”

My dad chortled. “Enjoy,” he said half-mockingly. “Have you been enjoying grandma’s company?” he asked me with a smile.

“You bet,” I said, starting to feel a flush run up my neck. “Hey, Dad, pass those rolls will you.”

The waiters cleared the table and started passing out dessert.

“Oh my,” gran said. “Too many calories for me. I need to take a little break.”

“Jeff,” she said, turning to my dad. “Can you take me upstairs. I want to freshen up after this big meal.”

Dad turned to me. “What about junior here. I thought he was your designated escort for the weekend.”

Gran laughed. “I’m going to give junior a little break . . but if you’re more attached to your carrot cake . . .”

Dad smiled. “The cake can wait.”

He stood up from the table.

Gran leaned over and whispered in my ear. “Come up stairs in about fifteen minutes. I have a special dessert for you.”

She squeezed my shoulder as she stood up. Then, she and dad left the dining room together.

I gobbled up some cake and slurped down a quick cup of coffee.

“Pardon me,” I said as I stood up. “I’ll be right back.”

Everyone was chattering away pendik escort and barely had time to notice me. My mom smiled sweetly at me and waved her hand.

I left the hub-bub of the dining room and made for the elevator. My palms were sweaty and I was feeling flushed – – thinking about gran waiting for me upstairs. Exiting the elevator, I made my way down the corridor to gran’s room. I leaned an ear against the door and heard my father muttering something. Should I wait? Or, should I go?

I knocked softly on the door.

“Come on in, Jim,” I heard my grandmother shout.

I turned the handle of the knob and opened the door. Then, my jaw dropped to the floor. There on the bed sat grandma, her dress pulled down to bare her big creamy tits, one hand on my dad’s cock, her face lit up with a big, bright smile. My dad turned to me with an equally big smile.

“Come on in, son,” he said, as granny began pulling on his cock. “The fun’s just about to start!”

I felt dizzy and I walked toward them as if in a dream. Gran meanwhile was starting to pull on Dad’s cock with two hands.

“Come on, baby,” she said to me. “Take your clothes off.”

I stopped, unsure what to do.

“Son,” my dad said, his head thrown slightly backward. “Come on. Your grandma’s been telling me all about you.”

I stared at him and then at gran. Then, I pulled my shirt over my head and unbuckled my belt. I pulled off my pants and stood there nude. Involuntarily, I felt my cock start to quiver and harden. I looked at gran and then back at dad. He was grinning and gran’s eyes were glued on my cock.

“Jesus, Jim,” gran whispered. “Get over here baby.”

I walked over next to dad who gave me another wild grin and draped a meaty arm across my shoulders. Gran grabbed my cock in one hand even as she continued stroking dad with her other hand. I moaned.

“Hmmmmm,” gran murmured appreciately. “My two boys. What big boys you are.”

Dad laughed. I noticed that our cocks were different – – mine was long and thick, his was shorter but really fat. We were both circumcised and the big purple heads of our dicks were appearing and disappearing inside gran’s energetic hands. She was panting softly – – her eyes fastened to the two dicks she held. Dad’s eyes were glazed with pleasure.

Gran took a deep breath and slid her lips over the tip of dad’s cock. He grunted and closed his eyes. As grandma began sucking his cock deep into her mouth, she started playing with my balls and then twisting her hand around my shaft. I groaned and reached down to play with one of grandma’s big tits. I heard her mumble escort pendik with pleasure. I don’t think I’d ever seen my cock so huge. It pulsed and vibrated with pleasure.

Grandma pulled her mouth off dad’s cock. “Let’s get more comfortable,” she said with a wicked grin.

Gran lay back on the bed, her hand grasping dad’s stiff cock. Her big tits lay splayed across her chest. She began to pull her dress down over her hips, but I leaned in and yanked it off with both hands. Surprise! She hadn’t been wearing any panties, and her bald pussy glistened. She dropped her free hand down between her legs and began playing with her pussy. Dad reached down to push gran’s head back onto his cock. Soon, she was gorging herself on his stiff meat.

“That’s it, mom,” he muttered, hand still pressing against her head. “Just like old times. Suck me so gooooooood.”

Panting, he turned to me. “What are you waiting for Jim? She’s ready for that big cock of yours.”

I grinned and slid between her legs. But gran pulled her mouth off dad’s cock.

“Wait,” she grunted.

She turned onto her right hip and pushed her big wide ass outward. Still grinning, I scooted around behind her, my cock pressed against her fleshy ass. Grandma reattached her hungry mouth to dad’s cock while I began running my dick up and down the massive canyon made by her ass cheeks. Her soft velvety skin against my cock felt indescribable.

Still sucking dad’s cock, gran reached around behind her and grabbed my cock, squeezing it hard. She pushed it down to her pussy. Eagerly taking my cue, I began to gently spread her pussy lips with the head of my cock. I looked up to see dad watching me enter his mother with my big dick. He groaned as I slowly slid my cock deep into granny’s warm, slick pussy. She was so warm and wet and tight around my cock that I could have died right there and gone to heaven.

Instead, I began slowly pumping my massive rod in and out of her seasoned pussy. With each deep stroke, she grunted and pushed her ass hard against my crotch. Dad had now taken her head in his hands and was ecstatically pulling her on and off his cock. I reached around and squeezed one of grandma’s massive tits, pinching her nipple as I plunged deeper into her drenched pussy.

With a gurgling moan, grandma pulled her head off of dad’s slick, hard cock.

“Oh yes, baby,” she groaned. “That’s it . .oh baby . . all the way inside me . . .”

I began pumping her pussy furiously, her ass cheeks quivering and shaking with each stroke. Grandma grabbed dad’s cock in one hand and began humping my cock with abandon. Her tits pendik escort bayan rolled and trembled as our bodies collided. Dad groaned and leaned back, offering his cock to grandma.

She stroked dad frenetically and opened her mouth wide, grunting and whimpering as I plowed her sweet pussy. Soon, I could feel my cock hardening like a rock. With a deep groan, I picked up my pace, feeling my climax starting to roll upward along my dick.

Dad gasped and his cock began shooting in spasming bursts – – plastering long ropy strands of cum over grandma’s face and hair. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back, enjoying dad’s climax.

“Oh sit .. . oh my god . . oh shit,” dad practically shouted. “Oh yes, mom .. .oh shit.”

The sight of dad’s cock bursting and of grandma’s eyes squeezed shut with pleasure sent me over the edge and, in one gigantic explosion of pleasure, I came inside her, jamming my cock hard against her ass. I felt granny’s whole body tremble. She dropped her head to the bed and began moaning, in pain or pleasure I couldn’t tell. My climax seemed to go on forever and I felt my whole body flushed and hot. I looked down to see cum dribbling around the edges of my cock, still buried deep inside her.

Dad staggered backward, his cock starting to quickly deflate. He ended up flopping into a chair and watching the two of us – – his mother and his son – – clenched together in climax. I leaned down with my face and planted a kiss on gran’s cheek. She smiled and turned her head to offer me her mouth. I buried my tongue deep inside as my body relaxed. I wrapped an arm around her waist and concentrated on enjoying both her warm, wet mouth and the feeling of my dick – – now exhausted – – as it begin to slowly slide out of her pussy.

“Don’t leave, baby,” grandma murmured against my lips.

I smiled and tried to jam my shriveling dick further into her. I could feel her smiling as well. Fruitless. My dick slid out of gran’s pussy and she pressed her lips harder against mine. Dad was panting hard in the chair, taking it all in with hungry eyes.

Once I had exited grandma, I pulled my tongue from her mouth and rolled onto my side. My whole body felt electric – – my muscles rippling with pleasure, my heart slowing down. I stretched and groaned. Gran curled up next to me, smiling.

After several minutes, Dad came over to the side of the bed.

“Scoot over, Junior,” he said in a low voice.

I moved to the side of the bed. Granny slid next to me and dad dropped onto the bed next to his mom. They kissed each other and he hugged her. While he kissed her, he looked over to me and smiled. I grinned back. I pulled a sheet up over all three of us and spooned up against grandma’s back. Dad patted me on the shoulder. Soon, warm and close in the bed, the three of us fell asleep, cuddling together.

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Let’s start at the beginning. My life went into shambles. I was divorced after a loveless twelve year marriage. My career ended with the office I worked at for 10 years closing their doors overnight leaving myself and all my other co-workers standing at the front doors wondering what had happened. And, to make matters worse, I had run out of money. Deciding that life needed the ‘reset’ button pushed, I moved back to NYC to live with my aging parents. It wasn’t the best moments of a man’s life, especially, one that was going to turn forty soon.

My parents lived in a modest two story brownstone in Brooklyn. It was where I had cut my chops as a kid and learned the ways of the street. But, coming back to live there with your parents when you are an adult does something to your morale. As I moved my things from the moving van into the house, my smiling half-sister ran out smiling.

“Hey, Eric!” she greeted me with a smile and gave me a playful punch on my arm. She tucked some of the bleached blonde locks of silky hair behind her left ear and stood there sweetly. “Or should I say, hey, roomie?”

“Hey, Katie, how are the parental units?” I asked as I pulled box after box out and stacked them on the sidewalk.

She shrugged, “Dad is doing ok. They are about to set off on a cruise. And…your mom could be treating me a little better. I guess they are about to enjoy retirement life, you know?”

Katie was a love child my father had brought into this world. She had remained a secret until Katie’s mother passed away from an accident. With no real family to turn to, Katie was brought out from the depths of secrecy and into my family. Obviously, my mother wanted nothing to do with her, but as a traditional Chinese family, my father didn’t give my mother a choice in the matter and was forced to raise Katie as if she was her own.

I stacked the last box for my second trip into the house and stepped back to take a breather. I had accumulated so much crap over my years away. I pulled out my vape mod and took a deep drag from it and exhaled calmly. Katie had leaned onto the stack of boxes and rolled her eyes.

“We get it, you vape.” She uttered an internet meme at me.

“Ha-ha.” I said. I turned to look at her, just a few years ago, before my life fell apart, she was just a scrawny teenager with braces and glasses. She could be standing in a crowd, and you couldn’t pick her out if your life depended on it. But, she had blossomed into a lovely young woman. Fetching features, but modestly toned back with how she liked to live. She was five foot one with a slightly curvy shape. I noticed that her breasts had swelled up to a nice size and that her nipples were starting to perk up. “Uh…chicken’s done?”

She cocked her head to a side for a moment puzzled by what I said and she looked down when she realized what I meant and immediately covered herself. “Pervert!” she said jokingly.

I reached into one of the boxes I had stacked and pulled a sweatshirt of mine. “I’m not the one out here in fall weather with a tank top.” I said and offered her the sweatshirt.

Katie took the sweatshirt and pulled it on. She pulled the collar area of the hoodie and inhaled deeply. “This smells like you.”

“Do I stink?”

“No,” she answered sweetly. She took another sniff, “I love how you smell. I always have.”

I offered a smile and peered back into the moving van to see that I had a lot more to move in. I took a deep breath and motioned with my head to Katie that I was going to work and talk with her. “So, how are things with you?”

“Well, I turned 18 two days ago.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I am finally a legal adult!” She said. She used a finger and poked at my chest playfully as I was wheeling my stack of boxes into the house. “And, you weren’t there for my party mister!”

“You know, I was packing my crap to come back here.” I said as I wheeled my boxes into the first floor apartment of the two story brownstone. I pulled the jack away from the boxes and started back out to the moving van. I felt a tug at my shoulder and stopped. Katie was holding my shoulder and smiled. “It’s not like I wanted any of this to happen, Katie. It was just fucked up shit stacked on more fucked up shit.”

She smiled, “I know, Eric. You know I love you. I am happy to see you here. Though, I wished it was on better circumstances other than having to force yourself to live with your step-sister.”

“Wait, what?”

All expression disappeared from her face. “Dad didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

Katie sighed, “Well, they moved to the top floor knowing that you had to come back home. Your mom has been giving me so much crap lately; they had thought it was wise for me to have a room downstairs here with you. You know…since you weren’t coming down with anyone and they didn’t think you were going to find someone at your age.”

“Really?” I asked astonished. “They thought that of me?”

Katie shrugged, bursa escort “Yeah?”

“Great.” I mumbled and went out to fetch more of my things.

* * *

A week into living back at home wasn’t as bad as I had thought it was going to be. I had to share the first floor with Katie, which didn’t turn out to be horrible. She was neat. She was caring. She was quiet. One night after sending out several résumés and answering emails from potential freelance opportunities, I set my tablet down and sat in my living room. Katie entered wearing short cotton PINK shorts and the hoodie that I had given her to wear on the day I had moved in. In her hands was a cold beer for the each of us. She handed me mine and sat down next to me on the couch. She faced my way and tucked her curvy legs to the left.

“Are you supposed to be drinking?”

She took a swig of her beer and laughed. “You know, I am almost done with college.”

Katie was an over-achiever. Ever since she was a child, she excelled in school and was ahead of her class. She skipped middle school and went directly into high-school, and even still, she was out-pacing everyone. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, you nerd, still doesn’t mean you can drink.” I took a sip of the beer. I leaned into her and kissed the top of her head and smiled, “But, I won’t tell anyone if you won’t.”

She smiled and took another swig. She let out a big exhale and looked around the dimly lit living room. “So, what are we doing?”

“What do you want to do?”

She reached for the remote and turned the television on. Katie made a cute little scoffing face, “There is nothing on television to watch.”

I agreed with her and sipped my beer. I pointed to my tablet, “I got episodes of Seinfeld on my tablet if you want to watch it.”

“Really?” she said excited as she sat closer to me. “We can watch it like back in the day when you came to visit?”

Katie smelled amazing. Her body was pressed up against mine and the smell of her was intoxicating. Her breasts pressed up against me as she squirmed in happiness her. I pulled my tablet over, using the motion to create of separation from us, but she just adjusted to me and moved even closer. “Well, I can’t say exactly like we used to. You were a little kid and we were in your bed watching and laughing until you fell asleep.”

Katie rolled her eyes, “Spoil sport.”

I pulled up the Seinfeld episodes I had and we sat there watching and drinking our beer. She laughed as I laughed when Kramer would do something completely absurd, or when George was saying something outrageous. We had a great time. As episode played after episode, and one beer was finished after another, my fatigue won the fight. I fell into peaceful sleep. It was the most peaceful sleep I have had in years. I woke up. Blinking away the bits of sleep in my eyes and found that I was still sitting in the living room. My tablet was by my side, still playing episodes that I had in my enormous video library. I looked down and saw that Katie was curled up asleep, using my lap as her pillow. She must have felt some movement and snuggled up a little more.

“Katie…” I whispered trying to wake her.

“It’s ok.” She said as she curled in tighter. She pulled herself tighter and closer to me.

I looked down at her. She was such a beautiful young woman. I smiled as I ran my fingers through her hair. Katie wasn’t completely Chinese. Her birth mother was Italian. The mix of the two races gave her skin a different tone than mine. All her life, she had been made fun of and was constantly called a ‘mutt’ by the Chinese neighbors. But, she just ignored it as grew up the way she had wanted to. As I played with her hair, a smile grew on her lips in her sleep and she pushed herself back into me, her head was resting right on my groin. I tried to move a little, only to be set into place by her. I relented and just sat there playing with her hair and admiring her. Oh, if she only wasn’t my sister, I would have tried to take advantage of the situation. I was disgusted at myself for even having a thought like that.

I shook my head. I rest my hand on her silky soft cheek and leaned back. It had been so long since I have had a woman near me. I sit and I think about the failed marriage that I had. There was no love, just yelling. My ex-wife didn’t share any of my interests. The sex we had was pre-planned and almost scheduled. What kind of love was that? I looked down again and my gaze traveled along the length of Katie’s body. She was so young and attractive. I can feel lust build in me. With lust building into false bravado, I pulled my hand away from her cheek and ran my finger tips down to her neck. I trailed my hand onto her exposed shoulder, touching the lace fabric strap of her bra and further down. I traced her womanly shape and paused as I got to her tiny waist and curvy hips. I gave them a small squeeze. The feeling gave me spins. The blood was rushing to my head. She responded to my touches. Everywhere bursa escort bayan my hand went, her body tried to get more of by moving to my hand. Fuck it, I thought. I continued my touch past her waist and onto her silky thighs and exposed rear-end. Her little short shorts might as well have been underwear by the way she was laying. Everything below the sweatshirt would appear to be completely exposed. I grabbed her plush, but firm ass and almost exhaled in lustful glee. She felt amazing.

With all the touching and admiring of her, I was getting aroused. I can feel myself getting hard and her head was right on it. The weight of her head, compressed and limited the movement of my dick, but, there was no doubt I was getting aroused. I cursed myself for getting aroused and tried to move away from her. Katie’s arms wrapped around me and held me into place. She nuzzled into my groin even more and then her eyes popped wide open.

Shit, I thought to myself.

Katie sat up confused at the moment. She looked around wondering where she was. For a brief second, she looked at me and wondered who I was. But, that was only a brief second. “Eric?”

“Katie…I, uh…”

“Was I sleeping on you?”

“Yes.”

“Sorry. I was so comfy.”

“Me too,” I agreed and was thankful my partial erection was going away. “You should probably head to bed. It’s around 3am. I got plans for us to go out to Manhattan if you are free.”

“Sure, sure, that sounds amazing.” She said as she stood up. But, as she stood, her footing must have been off and she stumbled. I quickly jumped up and snatched her before she slammed into the glass coffee table that my parents didn’t move to the second floor. I always hated that thing. As I looked down at the table cursing its existence and the designer that thought a mostly glass coffee table was a good idea, I had no idea that Katie and I were in a full embrace. “Eric?”

I turned and looked at Katie. I wasn’t a tall goliath. I was five foot 5, just barely taller than her, and much heavier closing in at two hundred pounds. She felt so tiny in my arms. I had my right arm around her back while my left was basically cradling her rear-end. Even in the dimly lit living room, I can see she was blushing. I let go of her, “Sorry.”

Katie reached down and grabbed my hand. Without saying anything, she pulled me to her room. I don’t know why I mindlessly followed her, but I did. As we entered her room, the smell of her was even more apparent. It was a much smaller room, with all the carpet and blinds to the colors of her liking. She got into her full sized bed and pulled me along.

“Katie…”

“Just come. Nothing has to happen. Nothing is going to happen. I just want to be held by you again.”

“Katie…” I said protesting, but my body followed her orders and got under the covers with her. Everything, her sheets, her pillows, her blankets, everything smelled like her. My mind was spinning with thoughts and urges. She reached behind her, grabbed my arm and pulled it over onto her. She huffed quietly, struggling with my oversized for her sweatshirt, but she managed to pull my arm under it and rested my hand on her heart. It was racing just as fast as mine, if not faster.

“I love you, Eric.”

“I love you too, Katie.”

We both fell asleep after that. Quietly, with her in my arms, I fell asleep.

* * *

It was morning. I am still in Katie’s room. I looked around it and found that she was a typical girl of her age. But, I noticed several pictures of her and I prominently placed on her walls and on her dresser near all her make-up and trinkets. I moved a bit and realized that we were still in bed together. She was facing me this time. Our bodies were pressed intimately together. Her head was buried into the crook of my neck. I leaned down a little and kissed the top of her head. I don’t know why I did it, but I did and it felt right at the moment. She snuggled against me more. I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her tightly. I reached under the sweatshirt and ran my hands softly up and down her bare back. She moaned softly in her sleep. My hands became more daring as I explored her body little by little. I swallowed hard as I got to the small of her waist. I felt some of the lacey material of the panties she wore under her shorts. Again, lust got the better of me and I continued downward and got a handful of amazing ass. I gave it a firm squeeze and let go, leaving my palm on her. I was aroused. Fully. There was no denying it. She turned me on. Even in her presence the past few days has been a whirlwind of emotions, dirty thoughts and sexual daydreaming. My erection was pressed up against her and I was only hoping it will go away before she wakes up.

“Eric.” I hear her moan as she wakes from her slumber.

“Hey, cutie,” I greeted her. I don’t know why I said that.

She smiled, her small soft lips stretching sweetly outward. She pulled me closer, and before I can escort bursa even push away so that she couldn’t feel my erection, it was too late. Her body froze frigidly for a second feeling what was pressed up against her. Katie looked up into my eyes and tried to look for something.

My face was red with shame. I began to stammer, “I…Katie, I’m so sorry. It’s…it’s just…”

Katie placed two soft, delicate fingers on my lips to quiet me and just snuggled into my erection more. She moved her body up and down slightly, almost grinding on my dick with her flat stomach.

“Katie…”

“Stop talking, Eric.” She demanded.

With the hand that she silenced me with, she reached down and cupped my erection in her hand. I gasped.

“Oh my…” she whispered as she rubbed in tiny, soft strokes.

“Stop, Katie. You’re my sister. This isn’t right.”

“Half and I know it isn’t right. But, I don’t care.”

“I do.”

Katie used her freehand to pull the waistband of my shorts and my boxers free to slip in her other hand and took hold of me. “I don’t. Let me do what I want.”

I felt her tugging slowly and then switching the position of her hand. Katie used her finger tips to swirl around the head of my penis. I felt her use the pre-cum that came from my dick to lube the shaft. Katie leaned up in our sexual embrace and kissed me softly on the lips. I didn’t kiss back. I was too stunned to. Not know how to handle the situation properly, I just froze in place. Katie leaned closer while never relinquishing her hold on my dick and kissed me hard on the lips. Her tongue shot into my mouth forcefully. She was searching for me tongue, waiting for me to respond as she kissed deeper and deeper.

I couldn’t hold back anymore. I pulled her close and kissed her passionately. My tongue met hers and they twirled back and forth. I pushed into her mouth and kissed her like it was going to be the last chance I could ever kiss her. I let out a rough moan as she quickened her pace that she was working my dick. I yanked my sweatshirt off of her and pushed her back onto her back and took her all in. She was amazing. The morning sunlight pierced through the blinds and threw beams of light on her. She was breathtaking. Through her soft-blue lace bra, I can see her nipples her fully erect. I looked down past her tight little stomach and can see her shorts were tugged about in her dominance of me and they were showing signs that she was aroused. There was a small dark, damp spot between her legs. Katie reached out with her free hand and took mine. She guided my hand past the waistband of her lace panties. She was completely smooth and soft. Katie left my hand there and leaned back while still working my cock.

“Please?” she asked sweetly, the verge of perceived pleasure on the tip of her tongue.

I obliged and reached down. She was soaking wet. I immediately found her clit and touched it lightly with the aide of her own juices.

“Oh my god.” She exclaimed as her body shuddered and shook from my touch.

I leaned in and kissed her as though we have been familiar lovers. I gripped her hair with my free hand and kissed her passionately. I roamed her neck with my lips and tongue. I heard her gasp, moan and squeal in delight. I can feel her quicken her pace of tugging. I leaned into her ear and asked, “Are you close?”

Katie nodded in between her pleasurable grunts. I quickened my pace on her clit and ran my fingers up and down her labia. She arched her back and forced herself onto my fingers when they rubbed her clit. She nodded and nodded as I rubbed faster and faster.

“I’m cumming!” she exclaimed and shuddered violently. Her legs, which were parted before, slammed shut as she shook and twitched while my hand rubbed her clit. She slumped back onto the bed when the wave after wave of pleasure swept over her. I laid down, her hand still on my cock. I reached around and grabbed her hair. I pulled her to me.

“My turn,” I said.

Katie scrambled to my shorts and boxers. She pulled them down exposing my cock. “Eric, it is so thick.”

I smiled and pulled her head down to my cock. She hesitated for a moment and then leaned in. She kissed the head of my cock, sending shivers up my spine. She licked the pre-cum that had gathered from all her tugging.

“Yum,” she said before she took my cock into her mouth. She was so warm and wet. I couldn’t hold on.

“Katie,” I uttered as I came. The first and second eruptions felt like my spine was going to break, the third, fourth and fifth nearly made me black out. Katie tried her best, but after the first, my cum sprayed her on her lips, nose and some in her hair. I was spent. Katie let go of my dick. She found some tissues, cleaned herself and me up before lying back down against my chest.

“Wow.” She said softly. “That was amazing.”

“Katie, I’m sorry. It has just been a long time since I have been with anyone. Ever since Gwen and I parted ways, I have been doing nothing but jerking off. There were times where I didn’t even have time for that.” I admitted. “You are just so beautiful. I would have never thought you would have turned out looking like you do.”

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Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
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Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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Seeing you there washing the dishes from last night, I am instantly taken back eighteen years in time to when the bright morning sunshine made a fiery halo of fly-away auburn hair and highlighted the sumptuous movements of an unfettered body beneath a sheer nightdress. Back then the nightdress was made of white silk and the sun shone through the fine material, providing shadowy glimpses of subtly curved generous breasts and narrow waist, and the enticing, narrow inverted vee of the gap between shapely thighs. This morning the nightwear is brightly coloured shortie-pyjamas. Less revealing to be sure, but still not completely disguising the promised delights within.

It is happening again. The same massive contraction and thudding in my chest, the same wildly overwhelming, surge of desire in my groin and in my heart. Loosening the waist tie of my terry bathrobe I move towards you…

Melissa’s mother and younger brother were killed in a car smash when Melissa was only seven years old. My young wife of eight years and I had been in this country for just six months, having burned all our bridges in the Old Country and invested every cent we had and more in our small vineyard. We were going to make beautiful wines and many more beautiful babies. Then, when taking the children to school in our decrepit old Land Rover, a sharp bend and wet road conspired with a lance of low cast winter sunlight and a milk tanker emerging from a farm driveway to destroy two thirds of my happiness in a bloody instant. Melissa survived with minor scratches and bruises. My childhood sweetheart and my precious son died at the scene. I too nearly died, of grief, when the solemn faced young police constable knocked gently at our door with the terrible news.

That left just Melissa and me, alone in this hard new, unfamiliar land. Everybody meaningful back in the Old Country was gone, scattered, heartbroken by the savage internecine warfare that had destroyed our nation. There was no going back. In any case, the bank would swallow up all of my equity in interest due if I sold the property now. We had to stay, to rebuild our lives here. Melissa and the vines became my sole reasons for living.

In spite of the trauma of her mother’s and brother’s deaths, Melissa grew up to be a warm and loving, bubbly cheerful little girl, although she still had her quiet moments. It was particularly then that we sat together, cuddling and comforting each other – just Melissa and I against the rest of the world.

Soon after her eleventh birthday we had to face up to her budding womanhood, the purchase of her first bra, the painful, frightening onset of her periods, the distress of the puppy-fat that, in her eyes, made her look “gross”, the awakening interest of and in boys. It was then that Melissa missed her mother most for the advice and guidance she would have given her. But we managed, tentatively overcoming our first natural reticence at discussing intimate details, but with growing trust and frankness, talking the issues through and arriving at self-knowledge and workable solutions. No subject was taboo, not even masturbation.

As a family, right from the start, my wife and I had always been casual about nudity around the children and this did not change when she was taken from us. Therefore, nakedness was natural between Melissa and I, and she still did not cover up, even when her body changed from flat-chested juvenile into curvaceous young woman. There were times my loins stirred when I unexpectedly came upon her fresh, youthful beauty, bursa escort but she just looked with interest at my thickening appendage and made no comment. Eventually, we quite proudly felt that Melissa’s confident familiarity with the human body and knowledge about her own wants and needs, and the drives of a future partner, far exceeded anything her sex education class at school could tell her. All without her being prematurely violated like so many of her friends who were the same age as she was.

Then, at fourteen, came her first real dates with boys and with them intense practical questions such as:

“What should I do when Peter Highsmith tries to put his hand under my top and touch my breasts while we’re kissing?”

“How can I stop Wally Turner from undoing my jeans and trying to put his hand down between my legs without turning him off me?”

“Last night I let Wally touch me with his fingers… well I have been going out with him for two months now. His last girlfriend let him do it on their third date. Now he says he says he wants to kiss me down there. Should I let him? Did you do that with Mummy? What’s it like?”

“Dean Parker put my hand on his penis and made me rub him through his pants and he came and made his pants all wet and sticky. It was so funny; he couldn’t go home until they’d dried out! But, what should I do if he gets it out next time? What if he tries to make me … you know, go down on him?”

Back in the Old Country, family honour would ensure that these three young men got severely damaged, if not killed. But we were now part of a liberal society where such things were an accepted fact of life. So we, I, had to bow to these different rules and we learned together how to cope with the problems they threw up. As a precaution I took Melissa to the doctor and put her on The Pill.

Melissa threw away her virginity at the age of fifteen-and-a-half. For six long months we had suffered through her desperate, unrequited infatuation with Jurgen, the young, tall, handsomely Aryan exchange maths teacher from Germany, who in earlier times would have been an officer candidate for Hitler’s Waffen SS. Then, when the icon of her sexual dreams for half a year devastated her world by getting caught in a compromising situation with three naked young boys, my daughter got into the back seat of his old Falcon with Dean Parker and opened her legs to him.

Dean delivered Melissa to our front gate, with the blood from her shattered hymen still wet on her thighs, and took off at high speed. With no anger in my being, or sexual stimulation at the sight of her lithe teenage woman’s body, I ran a bath and helped my daughter to strip naked. In her robe after bathing, Melissa sat in my lap and I comforted her in my arms while she wept and told me of her pain, her fear, and her feelings of humiliation and self-disgust. Dean had taken her swiftly and brutally, without readying her properly or comforting her afterwards. And when, fifteen minutes later she refused to ‘do it again’ when he was erect once more, he had got mad with her and dumped her off at home. We discussed it fully and felt no rage. It was not entirely Dean’s fault. He was just an ignorant, inexperienced boy who knew no better. And only one of the vast majority who would have done exactly the same.

My daughter never “slept around” but she did try two more sexual relationships in the two years following that awful night – neither of them very successful. Dean Parker’s impatient assault had put up a barrier in Melissa’s bursa escort bayan psyche that prevented her from achieving sexual fulfilment through intercourse. We talked it over and in the process asked ourselves how many young women there were “out there” with the same dilemma. I offered to pay for counselling, but Melissa refused saying that the vineyard was more important right then than her “temporary hang-up”.

Then came that golden morning after she had put on a small dinner party at our house the evening before, for the girls from her senior school netball team…

Without turning around Melissa knew I was in the doorway staring at her. She sensed my arousal and my sudden hunger, and it struck a corresponding chord deep within her. My harsh breathing seemed to me to fill the room. Melissa’s body tensed and then relaxed again as she made her decision and carried on washing the dishes. But now she was moving much more slowly…languorously…almost sensuously positioning her body so that the sunlight would silhouette her charms.

I moved in close behind her, mesmerised by the soft sway of the bare buttocks beneath her nightdress. Finally I stopped and placed my hands on the bench on each side of her expectant form, the rampant phallus inside my robe almost touching the delightful silk-clad crevasse before me. With a soft mewling sigh, my daughter dropped to rest on her forearms. Then arching her back and thrusting out her hard-tipped breasts, she pressed herself back into me.

With shaking hands I undid the tie at my waist and parted my robe fully, crushing my throbbing shaft into the cleft of her buttocks. Melissa sighed again and moved, rotating her hips, welcoming the hot feel of my manhood on her and stirring the fast rising emotions overtaking both of us. Offering her ripe young body to me…her father.

Anxious now, I lifted her nightdress, baring her to her waist, and shifted so that my cock slid between her legs to push its back part against her sex. With a sobbing, “Oh, Daddy!” Melissa reached beneath her and took me in her fingers to guide me into her warmly clinging depths. She was wet, ready for me, and I buried myself in her, smoothly, easily. And then, holding her hips in my hard-palmed hands I jabbed rhythmically into her body on shaking legs until, forcing an agonised cry from my throat, my seed burst from me in leaping spurts, filling and over-filling her welcoming channel.

We stood lathered like two horses after a steeplechase, shaken with the enormity of our act, until my member softened and fell out of her. Melissa stripped off her nightdress and used it to wipe up our fluids, which, by now, were running down her thighs and threw it into a corner of the kitchen to be laundered later. Then she pulled my robe completely from my body and, leaving it where it fell took me by the hand and led me wordlessly to her bed.

An hour later we joined again, face to face with her ankles locked behind my back. She didn’t come to orgasm this time either, but murmured her joy and love as my hot seed filled her once more. Then, after she had visited the bathroom, I kissed my way down her tautly eager body and between her thighs to bring her to a shuddering, sobbing climax with my tongue. I was the first man ever to have cared for her enough to make sure that she achieved her satisfaction after taking his.

Melissa and I were regular lovers for over a year from that moment on. Not the wild, many times every night and in every position sexual athletics that one reads about in escort bursa fiction, but an honest and open expression of our mutual love and trust and our need for warmth and love. Even though we always copulated with an exquisite intensity, in that time she only ever came to orgasm once with me inside her. Every other climax came from manipulation by my fingers or through the caresses of my tongue on her clitoris. It was on that one miraculous occasion when we orgasmed simultaneously that she conceived our child.

We continued to be lovers throughout her pregnancy and for a time afterwards. Then she met and fell in love with a man, a mature man like myself, and I happily released my daughter and our child to his care, secure in the knowledge that he truly loved them as deeply as I did. After several attempts to have their own children, all of which ended in devastating miscarriages, Melissa and her husband stopped trying. Now, eighteen years later, the three of them here to help with the vintage and it is starting again…

My heart leaps and great warmth suffuses my body as I step slowly towards you. You turn to face me, resting your back against the bench. The sunlight dances golden-red in your hair and the bright violet of your eyes is almost overtaken by the huge black pools of your irises. You wet your full, slightly parted lips nervously and gaze into my face. Your bosom heaves unsteadily and the nipples crowning your full globes form sharp tents in the thin cotton of your pyjama top. I long to rip the fragile material aside to cup their rounded beauty in my palms and bury my face in their soft warmth.

I look down at your lovely, familiar features and my heart nearly bursts in my chest from my love for you. You recognise the force of my emotions and smile, “Hello…”

Towering over your petite form – you are so like your mother when she was your age – I silently part my robe. My dark pubic curls are shot through with grey now, but my mighty phallus stands up just as strongly as ever, proudly demanding your devotion. With trembling fingers you reach out to stroke its insistent length, and the bulging sac beneath, drawing me even closer to you. A pearly drop of pre-come emerges from my tip and dampens the front of your shorts.

You don’t object as I place my hands on your hips and start to slide the silky cotton down, exposing your creamy smooth, rounded belly and the fiery red thatch at the junction of your thighs. You are not wearing panties underneath. You remove one hand from my shaft to help me pull the shorts over your rounded bottom and right down, and then kick them off your ankles to one side and stand with your soft thighs parted. You shiver with anticipation and draw my hand to you.

For a long moment we stare into each other’s eyes, you holding and caressing my rod in both your hands while I explore your readiness with my fingers, preparing to invade your luscious body. Then you part my robe fully and raise one leg to wrap it over my naked hipbone, while I lift you by your buttocks and spear you with one thrust!

Our coupling is a feverish, frantic clash of bodies that culminates in jolting, moaning, lightning-bolt orgasms for the both of us. Me first and then you shortly afterwards. You rake my shoulder with your fingernails in your passion, drawing blood, and bite my nipple. I leave dark finger-bruises in the pliant flesh of your behind.

Later, as we stand, still joined, trembling in the aftermath, you ask if you can stay here with me. I tell you, “Of course you can, my darling one.” And you wet my chest with tears of happiness.

Of course you can stay with me, my angel, forever if you want to. For I love you utterly… my darling daughter, Melanie… my darling granddaughter.

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The Special Theory

I’m not much for family stuff. I never go to reunions – hell, I’m seldom invited to any – and I wouldn’t recognize most of my cousins if we were stuck in an elevator together. So when my sister called to tell me that Uncle Fix had died I never even thought of going to the funeral.

But my little brother – Uncle Fix’s godson – called from Baton Rouge and wanted to go. So here I am at two o’clock on a cold, gray Tuesday afternoon in mid-January among a crowd of unrecognized paternal relations at a funeral home in the suburbs. You know, try as I might, I still don’t know why I’m here.

To help me get through the evening, I have brought along a flask of Maker’s, and with a half hour to go before the funeral Mass, I have secured a spot in a nice corner where I can avoid those relatives I do know, while trying to guess who everybody else is… without having to ask my sister. My sister and my little brother are the only members of my generation I can identify for sure.

“Could I have a taste of that,” an attractive woman about ten or so years my junior says as she steps in my direction, impatiently adding, when I stare in complete incomprehension, “The flask, Jack.”

I unscrew the cap and pass the flask, while going through my mental check list of discrete questions I can ask to figure out which relative this is without having to admit my ignorance.

“I’m your cousin Margaret, Phil’s fifth kid,” she said after a big gulp of Maker’s. “But it’s OK not to recognize me. It’s kind of like a family game: ‘Name all of Phil’s twelve kids. . . in order.’ Sometimes I’m not even sure I could get it right. Are you still editing and writing or whatever it is you do across the River?”

“Yes, that’s what I do and where I do it. And you?”

Soon I am enjoying a comfortable few moments in the company of my cousin Margaret, whom I still can’t remember for the life of me. I vaguely recall a cousin Peg or Meg or Peggy or something and those are all short for Margaret of course, but I still can’t recall what Margaret or Peg or Meg looked like at any stage of life. At this stage of life, though, she looks pretty good. (All of Uncle Phil’s daughters are great looking, and the sons movie star handsome in their jet black hair and blue eyes.)

Margaret, hmmmmmm: five-foot-six or so, trim figure, medium boobs, and of course that raven hair, shoulder length, and those indigo eyes behind expensive eyeglasses. Her makeup is light, and she is wearing a gray suede funeral-home-approved shift, low heels and a sneer. I think I like the sneer best. There is also that rock the size of a Rubic’s Cube on her left hand.

She fills me in on what she is about: Public defender in the suburbs, married, no kids. Husband, a successful personal injury lawyer, pays all the bills. She spends her weekdays trying to keep teenage dopers out of jail – usually without much success. “System’s fucked. ‘All little niggers go to jail.’ That’s the system. I work my ass off to keep these little reprobates out of jail. The police, the politicians, all the white folks hate me for doing too much for the punks, and the punks all hate me for not doing enough. And I can’t blame them, I’d hate me, too. I should have dropped out of high school and kept that job at the car wash when I had the chance.”

After a few more minutes of ruing the fall of the Western World, Margaret returns to suburbia and begins identifying other members of the family for me, complete with bits of gossip about each:

Her gay brother, our ex-con cousin-in-law, the would-be priest, and Uncle Pat’s 23-year-old wife – “the boobs are fake.” I recognize her eldest sister, Lisa, who has just arrived. Still amazingly good looking at 47. Lisa is supposed to have had an affair with my little brother, sixteen years her junior, back when, but I don’t know about that.

“Let’s go outside,” Margaret says. “I need to smoke. And I’ll probably need some more of that liquid you have in your pocket.” Sarcasm is a wonderful Strange trait.

In a few minutes we are sitting on a bench under a canopy, emptying my flash and discussing our siblings. The emphasis seems to be on Lisa and my brother. Margaret says the rumors are bullshit.

“You see,” Margaret went on. “Lisa really wants to sleep with your brother. Always has. But there’s that foolish taboo. That Ursuline thing. Protestant morals and Catholic guilt. They clash from all directions. Your brother never had those hang-ups. He just wanted to fuck my sister. Still does. Why do you think he’s here?”

My turn: “I think Lisa is gorgeous, of course, but I’ve never thought of her in a sexual context. Does Lisa find my brother, her cousin, sexually attractive? Do you?”

“Lisa certainly does. Me, I don’t think so. I like my men a bit more mature, or at least so my cousins.” (Is this a whiskey-inspired hint of some sort or just wishful thinking?)

She laughs at her own little joke, and I put my hand on her knee.

Before she can answer, bursa escort some cousin or other looks out the door of the funeral home to announce that the priest has arrived, and the funeral Mass for Uncle Fix is about to begin. I finish the flask. Margaret never did light up a cigarette.

Were I sober, I would never have touched my cousin, but with a good half pint of firewater to my credit – plus one more gulp – I steer Margaret aside as we step into the hallway of the mortuary’s business section. I pull her close and kiss, then I wait for her to push me away and slap my face. Instead, she opens her lips so our tongues can come together in long, wet, hard conversation. She puts a hand behind my neck to hold the kiss. I place my hand lightly on her breast and with my body pin her to the wall. She bites my ear lobe and traces the outline of my ear with her tongue.

Then she backs off.

“Not here. Not now,” she whispers as she pushes my hand away, making sure to hold it tightly in her own as she does.

Margaret and I stand in the back of the little chapel listening to some fat Jesuit describe this loving, dedicated family man – strange, not Strange, as he certainly couldn’t be talking about Uncle Fix. Anyway, from time to time throughout the services Margaret grabs my hand and squeezes. But, whenever I try to say anything, she puts her fingers to her lips and shushes me. I think I am beginning to want this woman for true.

You know there are myriad taboos about fucking your cousin, even a cousin as eminently fuckable as Margaret. (Her perfume is intoxicating by the way.) Since I don’t intend to marry her or have deformed children with her the legal and genetic prohibitions are out, leaving what? Sister Christopher and Father Hayes’ admonishments? I don’t care much about scandalizing or embarrassing the family, and I don’t think many of my friends would care much. Margaret may not have the same “fuck what the world thinks” attitude, though I suspect she does. I can press the point and retreat if she isn’t game, I guess.

I give Margaret a ride to the cemetery in the city. The procession, escorted by suburban sheriff’s deputies, takes a while to form along the boulevard in front of the funeral home. My own car, my 28-year-old Porsche, finds its place somewhere in the middle. I leave the engine running so the heater will work, and I keep the radio on so Margaret won’t hear my heavy breathing or the newest rattle from my engine. Sitting in the queue I take a deep breath and cautiously put my hand on her knee again. I don’t know what I am expecting.

No reaction really. Margaret doesn’t say a word, does not push my hand away, nor does she move closer or father away – in the old pigmy 911 there’s only close and closer. Then she opens her knees, just enough for an invitation, an unambiguous signal. If she be game, so be I. My fingers move up the inside of her smooth thigh, which seems to be quivering just a bit. Her thighs open wider when I reach the lacy triangle of her panties, and slip my fingers between the silk and her smoothly shaved skin. She is wet and open and now breathing a little harder herself, as I let my little finger touch her clitoris. She gives a jump and a sigh, but keeps her focus ahead on the line of limos and Fords about to follow Uncle Fix to Greenwood.

The line moves in front of me, and I reach gingerly for the shift knob and follow, pausing just a flicker between third and fourth gears to taste my cousin. “I think you should drive for now,” she says as she straightens her dress and fastens her seatbelt. I don’t say anything. I just drive. It begins raining just a little as we near the cemetery.

Then, as the fat Jebbie sprinkles Uncle Fix with one last spray of holy water before he is pushed into the vault, the clouds open up, and the chilling rain scatters all but the grave tenders and the priest. Margaret and I make a dash to my car, which is locked – Margaret did that, probably out of habit as I never lock anything. My overcoat has protected me some, but Margaret hasn’t fared as well. She is soaked.

Once inside, I turn the engine over and crank up the heater. We shiver just the same. And we wait: for the rain to let up a little and for the other cars to start leaving. Finally, as the darkness grows the limos with family and the empty hearse turn in the direction of the front gates, and we follow, shivering but laughing. Me not so much. I didn’t want to take Margaret home right away, at least not to her home. She lives about a mile from the cemetery, off Metairie Road just outside the city limits.

#

“Come inside and dry off,” Margaret says as I pull into her driveway. “You can’t stay like that. I think Dennis may have a sweater you can use. Dennis, that’s my husband. But you won’t have to meet him. He’s in Dallas suing somebody.” She runs up the steps to the front porch and quickly disappears inside, leaving the door open indicating that I am expected to follow. And I do. I put my wet top coat on the bursa escort bayan rack in the foyer and walk inside. I’m really not all that wet, at least compared to her. The living room is huge but dim, lots of expensive furniture and walls filled with art. What you would expect for a pair of childless, married lawyers?

“There’s some whiskey over on the bar in the corner,” she calls from somewhere beyond. “Make me one, too. Just the whiskey, no ice or anything.”

The bar is a old converted television/radio/phonograph from the 1950s. Uncle Phil had the first TV in the family, a tiny little screen housed in a huge mahogany armoire of sorts: perfect for converting into a bar. I take two of the glasses on top and fill each with a couple of fingers of something resembling whiskey from a crystal decanter. It’s bourbon, though I can’t tell which kind. Probably cheap, otherwise it wouldn’t be in a decanter.

I walk around holding two glasses of booze, looking at the art on the walls and atop end tables, when I am hit by a towel.

“Dry your hair, take off those wet shoes and come let’s enjoy our drinks in the den.” Margaret is wearing a white terrycloth bathrobe that reaches to her bare feet. I don’t think the outfit would be considered very sexy in most situations. But, damn Margaret does look sexy in that robe now. I am getting hard just looking – and thinking.

She takes a sip of her drink and walks through the dining room toward the back of the house. I follow, of course. At the entrance to the den there is step down. Margaret stops at the step. I stand a step above her and look out through the wall of French doors at the rain falling through the branches of the wintering fig tree. I put my hand on a bare spot of her shoulder near at her neck. She turns and offers me her lips.

We hold each other lightly, and let our tongues and lips do the communicating. My being a step above makes it awkward at first, but Margaret embraces my legs to keep me from moving to her level. I push back the collar of her robe and place my hands on her bare shoulders. She shivers.

“I’ve wanted you for a long, long time,” Margaret whispers as the terrycloth robe falls to the floor, revealing this most delicious being. I touch her ever so lightly. I want to see as much of this woman as is but I also want to touch as much at the same time. It’s a nice dilemma to have.

Dilemma seems to be the order of the day. It’s one thing to make love to a woman with a near perfect body – and Margaret’s is such – but when that near perfect body belongs to your own flesh and blood the scruples battle the amorals for preeminence. But, any hesitancy I might have had went out with that kiss at the funeral home. And now, any chance of retreat has fled with her confession… “for a long, long time.”

“I hope I won’t be too, too disappointing.”

“You can’t be.” And she begins unhooking my belt and unfastening my trousers. My cock begins to make its way through my shorts, and Margaret’s fingers give it a little help. She looks up at me and smiles as she rubs my member across her small but firm tits. I step from the dining room level now and cup my hand around one of her breasts, then take a nipple between my fingers and rub until it is long and hard. I move to kiss her breasts, sinking to a knee…

“No,” she breaks in. and steps toward an overstuffed chair and falls in, dragging me by my tie. My pants still above my knees, I trip right over her, apparently the position she intended. As my lips, tongue and teeth tend to her breasts, my hands try to touch every single sensuous part of her creamy body.

Her body seems perfect. The warmth. The softness. The color. I move down, kissing every inch. A heaven right here in my own family that I have overlooked all these years. OK, Margaret would have been too young for me, even if I had known her as a teenager, but she is certainly just the right age now. I descend on her body, feeling her wetness on my cheeks as I pass by her vagina, her pussy, her cunt. I kiss and suck and even bite as I move down her inner thigh, past her knee and to her feet. Damn, even her feet are off-the-charts sensual. I massage her feet and move back up one thigh and down the other, passing teasingly close to her lips. It is a tease even to me. I yearn to taste her, to press my face against her hairless cunt. Her aromas are too, too much. I must taste. And I do.

Her hips move to the edge of the chair as I plunge face first into her vagina, licking all the juices and feeling all the warmth and excitement she has to give. I kiss her clitoris. She jerks, and her legs rise to squeeze my head in a vise. Her clit grows until it is stiff, and I bite it slightly, as Margaret grabs my hair, intending to bring me up from my sensuous cave. The smell, the taste, the touch, the sight and the sound. She pulls me up by my hair, then by my collar, until I am on top of her, and we share our lips and tongues in a sloppy, erotic kiss.

“Jack, we’ll me more comfortable escort bursa in the other room,” she says.

“I’m quite comfortable right here, Peg.”

“Well sit up before you crush me.” I stand and step back as she deftly removes my pants and shorts while sitting on the edge of the chair. And she stands: “Call me Peg again.”

“Of course, Peg.”

She seems to swoon as she kneels in front me and massages my member, my penis, my dick, my cock. She lifts a drop on the tip and tastes it before licking my shaft and covering the head. I am shaking, getting afraid of coming too soon. Margaret senses as much and backs off, She stretches out supine on the silk oriental rug in the room. Her heels on the floor, she opens her knees and reaches her arms toward me.

I am on my knees, leaning over her, my hands on each side of her shoulders. I hang there frozen, staring into those indigo eyes. She is indeed beautiful, maybe the most beautiful. At this moment she is most beautiful, the most beautiful, the most beautiful woman in the world.

And I let myself enter her.

She is warm and taut and small and sinful. And a soft moan from deep inside her and a light smile on her face tell me all I needed to know: that she is as glad to have me inside her as I am to be there. I let out a moan of my own, with the smile. I pause to catch my breath and to keep from exploding right away. Margaret raises her legs around my hips and I pin her wrists to the floor as I move, slowly, slowly at first, then quicker and quicker, stroking, driving, enjoying my cousin in ways I never thought possible. Her smile is one of joy, of relief, of satisfaction. The smile of a woman who enjoys sex on her own terms. I certainly agree with those terms. As I make a strong, deep plunge inside her, she flexes her vaginal muscles about me and I try to push deeper and deeper. I am now going absolutely nuts.

Her hips rise to meet mine in rhythm with her vaginal muscles’ massaging of my cock. I bend my elbows to fall atop her and wrap her body in my arms. She is moaning louder, sounding almost angry, maybe she is.

She digs her fingernails into my back, eliciting blood and painful pleasures. Her spine arches and she calls, “Yes, Yes, Yes, Now, Now. Call me Peggy. Call me Peggy, the way you used to.”

I answer in a gasp, “Come, Peggy, come.”And she erupts in a fit of shaking and tossing and “Now, Jack, now.” I come in torrents, and we roll over and over, around and around on the silk rug until every drop is spent. And it is great. Forbidden fruit always is.

We quickly get up from the floor. She reaches to the overstuffed chair to grab her robe, and wraps her delicious body in its folds. “I must shower and get ready if you’re taking me to Chez Denise tonight.” (I am?)

She turns and begins walking toward the back of the house. I pause, uncertain whether or not I have been invited to follow. I follow anyway, across the room and into a hallway that ends in an open door to a huge bedroom filled with mahogany and dominated by a king-size bed. I stop to take it all in, the paintings, the furniture, the mirrors. I hear the shower in the adjoining bathroom. The door is ajar, as is the door to the marble shower. Without stopping to remove my shirt, I step inside. I have been expected.

She is facing the shower head, letting the hot water stream down her neck. The warm sprays of the shower have already added a rose glow to Margaret’s skin and the ribbons of water run down her shoulders and back and on to her ass. I grab the soap and begin to wash her rich body, her back, her ass. I reach around to wash each tit as I kiss her neck and run my tongue up behind each ear. The bar of Ivory in my hand, I wash her belly and descend to her pussy, where I let my fingers explore her folds of her petal.

I press close to feel her skin next to mine, and I am hard again, suddenly wanting – hell, in need of – her again. I press my penis against her ass, between her firm cheeks, while my hand reaches inside her for a drop of her juices to ease the way. I rub that juice on her rose and then I let my cock enter. She gasps. But before I can react, she murmurs “No, don’t stop. Oh, my god, don’t stop.” And I push in slowly – as her tightness allows no other way – until I can enter no more. And I stay there, my cock trembling and growing, my body shivering and my mind exploding. Margaret shakes and her moans turn to sobs. She is crying, whispering words I cannot understand even if I could hear them clearly.

I explode inside of her, jets of hot juices up that divine ass, and I hold her hips as I slowly and carefully pump her rectum before slipping out, spent. I take hold of her shoulders and turn her to face me, and we kiss, a kiss at once passionate, lustful and loving.

We wash each other gently before exiting the shower.

“Go grab yourself another drink,” Margaret says as I return to the bedroom after a brief expedition to locate my clothes. “You call Denise and make a reservation, give us an hour. It’s not too important for a Tuesday, but Denise likes it when people make reservations. It may take me a little while to get ready, too, and besides I need a little break from you.” She smiles.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
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Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Kyle loaded the last of the boxes into the small elevator, most of the space already taken up by the dozen other boxes and furniture that he and his sister had hauled into it. With a grunt he propped the box up on top of the others and slid it toward the back. It was a wonder the old lift could take it all, and he was thankful that they only had to go up four floors. He blew his breath out and rolled his shoulders, preparing himself for the next half of the job – unloading the elevator at the top.

“That’s it then, that’s everything.”

Kyle turned around as his sister stepped into the lift with him, carrying the last item – one of the sculptures she’d been unable to sell. To Kyle it looked very much like a random mess of metal and plastic, but apparently that was art these days. Pam brushed past him and set the dangerous looking metal tumble weed on top of the boxes and breathed a sigh of relief.

“Thank God the movers agreed to help us.” she said. “It’s hard enough in this heat. I can’t imagine what we’d have done on our own.” The boxes took up most of the space in the elevator, and the siblings were left with less than a metre wide space at the front to ride up in.

Kyle nodded and pressed the button for the fourth floor.

“It was good of them to off load the white goods first.” He said. “Those would have been impossible for us to do. The rest of this stuff we’d have just lugged slowly up.”

The doors to the elevator closed slowly, the mechanism reluctantly forced to work in the oppressive heat. The elevator, like the rest of the building, was old but still fairly well maintained. There were no signs of leaks or water damage that Kyle had found when they inspected the place a few days earlier, and the whole place was made out of brick. Even the interior walls of the apartments were brick. The major trade off had been space – the apartment on the fourth floor was apparently the smallest in the entire building. But beggars can’t be choosers, and Pam’s situation meant she really couldn’t be too fussy about her room. As long as it was safe and clean, Kyle had said, then that was enough.

“Thanks again for helping me today, Kyle.” Pam said as the doors closed with a quiet thud. “Thanks for everything.” She looked him in the eye and meant every word of gratitude. “I know we’ve never really been that close and all, and I don’t mean to make things weird. It’s just good to know I still have someone out there I can call on when my life falls apart.”

Kyle smiled and said, “It’s cool. What are big brothers for?” The elevator screeched momentarily as it got under way, and began crawling up the building.

“I guess they’re useful as pack mules for hauling the pitiful remains of my life out here on a blisteringly hot day,” she said. She glanced over the collected pile of belongings in the elevator. “Not really much to show for 3 years of marriage.”

“Hey now,” Kyle said as he took a step over to his sister, blocking her view of her things, “never mind all this stuff. It’s just stuff. You can live a full life and end up with nothing, or have everything but feel like you have nothing.”

Pam rolled her eyes and said, “Well that’s kind of how I feel right now, you know? Like, I only have this stuff to show for those years because everything else was just so empty.” She sighed, and Kyle could feel the frustration in her voice. “I know you and Mom never liked James,” she said looking up at her brother. “And I really thought we had a good chance at things when we first got married. But then, I don’t know. Things just progressively got more and more shit as the months went on.” She paused and leaned against the elevator doors. “I know we rushed it. I know that now.”

Kyle didn’t really know what to say. He’d hinted enough when Pam had told their family that she had met someone and they were going to get married. She and James had only dated for five months before he proposed. And she had said yes in a heartbeat. Kyle wanted to tell her that she’d always been spontaneous, even reckless at times. It was actually something he was fond of. As children he was always the party pooper, the serious one, and she was always the rebel. She’d never been disrespectful or a real troublemaker, but she certainly wasn’t shy about bending the rules. And Kyle always felt she was fun to be around. He hoped that the breakdown of her marriage didn’t take that spark away from her.

“It’s not the end of the world, you know? That’s what today is – the start of a new chapter in your life. A new beginning.”

“Hmm,” she said, “I guess I’m having trouble seeing it. Every time I close my eyes, all I see is him, and her. It’s just -“

Suddenly there was a loud clanging sound from on top of the elevator, and then it dropped for a brief moment before slamming to a halt as the emergency brakes kicked in. The sudden drop and stop tossed most of the contents of the lift around haphazardly, including Pam and Kyle. In that moment, he had fallen forward and only bursa escort barely caught himself from landing against his sister by bracing his arms on the door. Pam was rubbing the back of her head as she’d knocked it as the elevator has jammed to a stop.

“Are you alright?” Kyle said.

“Owwww. That hurt, but I think I’ll live” Pam replied. “What about you?”

Taking a breath to calm himself, Kyle said, “Yeah I’m OK. I think this statue thing of yours has fallen over though as it’s stabbing me in the back.”

Pam forgot her own pain and ducked under her brothers arms to take a look around him. But as the boxes had all shifted to the only space in the elevator, the only place she could stand was right where she was. But by leaning over she could just see that her sculpture had indeed fallen over and was jabbing into Kyle’s back.

“Ok,” she said, “I’m gonna try push it off you.”

She stepped closer to her brother and wrapped her arms around him trying to reach for her sculpture. She couldn’t get a good grip on it, and shifted her feet around the debris on the floor to get closer to him. As she tried to reach again, she embraced her brother in a bear hug. Despite the heat, his skin was cool. They had both only worn shorts and a vest, the heat of the day prohibiting anything more. So as she took hold of the sculpture behind him, their legs touched and she turned her face away from his as she laid her head on his shoulder. She managed to get a grip on the offensive art and levered it away from him.

“There, I think that’s the best I can do from here,” she said as she stepped away from him. “Any better?”

Kyle lowered his hands from the door and stood up straight, before recoiling again.

“Ah, yeah that’s ok, but it’s still poking out a fair way.”

“Ok well come this way then.” Pam shuffled backward a half step and stopped as she hit the door.

Kyle followed and shuffled closer to her, enough that he could stand up straight and not get a dose of modern art in the ribs. Unfortunately it meant that they were virtually face to face – Pam’s forehead lining up to his mouth.

“Right then,” Kyle said, “next thing is to see if we can get out of here.”

He pushed the floor button on the console, but there was no response. He tried to door open button, but once again was met with nothing. Finally he tried the emergency button. The speaker on the old console cracked to life, a dial tone chirping out. After what felt like minutes, someone answered the call.

“Hello?”

“Hi, we’re stuck in the lift at,” Kyle looked at the address on the console, “44 Cornish Way. Can you send someone to help us?”

“Ah that lift again,” said the speaker, “I’ll be right over. Are you hurt?”

“No, but it’s fucking hot in here.”

“Righto. See you soon.”

With a burst of crackling sounds the caller hung up.

Both siblings sighed wearily, resigned to wait out the problem in the heat.

“Sorry to get you stuck in this hot box, Kyle,” Pam said.

“Don’t worry. It’s not like it’s your fault.”

Pam leaned against the door and crossed her arms. “Well, it feels like it is. I mean you wouldn’t be out here if it wasn’t for me.”

“Oh come on Pam,” Kyle said as he rubbed his forehead in frustration, “it’s not your fault. Stop feeling sorry for yourself and just relax.”

A look of defeat and exhaustion swept across Pam’s face, and Kyle regretted saying what he did. His sister had never been one to play the girly-girl with him, always acting more of the adventurous tomboy. But in that moment, Kyle realised just how badly she was hurting.

“Ah, Pam, I’m sorry,” he said as he placed his hands on her upper arms. She’d always been athletic, but she seemed so frail and brittle in his arms. “I didn’t mean to sound harsh. Yeah, it’s hot but there’s nowhere I’d rather be than here helping you.”

Pam could feel the well of emotion begin boiling over with her brothers words. All the anger and disappointment she’d been holding in after her marriage had ended came racing back to the surface. Combined with the embarrassment of getting help from her dear brother, to the scare of the elevator drop and the heat, it all combined in that moment to finally break her resolve. She shut her eyes tightly as tears began streaming down her cheeks, soft sobs bursting from her throat. She knew it was silly but the intensity of the storm she’d had to weather these last few weeks came crashing down on her and she wept openly.

Kyle’s heart ached when he saw Pam’s tears, and he stepped to her and swept her into a hug and held her as she cried. Pam slipped her arms under his and held tight to her brother and she buried her face into his shoulder. Her whole body shook and she let out all her grief and fear and pain.

After a couple of minutes Pam’s sobs slowed and eventually stopped. Still holding each other, Kyle said, “Are you OK?”

She didn’t say anything, only nodding and sniffing. She withdrew her arms, bursa escort bayan and Kyle let her go thinking she was ok. But she only brought her arms up and looped them around his neck and stepped into his arms again.

Kyle was taken by surprise and for a moment stood frozen. He’d never really been the type to hug – no one in their family was like that. And so the sudden closeness to his sister was strange. But he knew that there was nothing unusual about it, and given her situation, completely understandable. He wrapped one hand around her back and stroked her hair with the other.

Pam was in that quiet place in her mind; emotional exhaustion had left her running on autopilot. Nothing else intruded on her thoughts, and for the first time in weeks she felt the bliss of being free of her worries and her pain, even for just a few moments. And so she quietly revelled in that place, safe in her brother’s arms.

While Kyle’s heart and mind knew what was going on, his body reminded him that the last time he’d been this close to a woman was a very long ago indeed. The thought of his ex-girlfriend came suddenly in his mind, naked and fresh from the shower. She’d been called away, back home overseas to attend some urgent family matters. Her flight had been booked for the afternoon six weeks ago, and on that last day together she wanted to leave on a high note, and had come to him after her morning shower. Unfortunately the sudden change in gear in Kyle’s mind from emotional support to sexual frenzy had him keyed up in an instant. He could smell the sweat and sweet fragrance of his sister’s skin. Her hair felt smooth and delicate in his fingers. The warmth from her body seemed to soak right through him, like he could feel her radiating into his bones. The soft curves of her back and her waist felt totally feminine, and her breasts were wonderful pillows of flesh pressed against him.

He knew it wasn’t right, but he couldn’t help himself. It wasn’t as though he was doing anything to her really, he rationalised. He was just hugging her, he told himself as he squeezed her tighter. It took all his willpower not to dip his head down and bury his face in her neck. And while his body might betray him, he still had enough self control to keep his eyes fixed straight ahead.

Pam had never really ever wanted to get close to her brother. They had a good relationship, built on mutual respect and independence. She knew he appreciated her feral streak, and she admired his intelligence. But as he hugged her tighter, she had to admit it felt nice to be able to go to someone who you knew would never judge you, and who would be there for you when you needed them the most. She had tried to keep up her facade of stoic resilience, but she was deeply thankful that her brother had been there for her just as the dam had broken. His strong arms now held her and she let herself relax in that safety net for the first time. She pulled her brother closer to her as he hugged her tighter.

Unfortunately, Kyle’s body had other plans. And the thin shorts he’d worn that day weren’t going to be of any help in hiding his situation. I should probably end this now, he thought, and save myself the embarrassment.

But just as he was about to untangle himself, she said, “It’s ok, Kyle. Don’t worry, just hold me for now. Please?”

The heartache and desperation in her voice decided it for him. His own awkwardness and embarrassment were nothing compared to the love he felt for his sister. He realised then that if she was lost somewhere, no matter where, he would cross whatever oceans or deserts to find her. The realisation of just how important she was to him hit him like a slap in the face. And while his erection had only been at half mast, the intensity of that sudden burst of emotion in him was enough to set it right off.

Pam felt her brother tense up and was afraid he had decided that he’d had enough and was going to let her go when suddenly his penis seemed to jolt against her. She’d already felt it slowly rising and had actually felt flattered that she had caused that in her brother. But the sudden rise that she felt now was unlike anything she was expecting.

“Woah, down boy!” she laughed. She made no move to distance herself from him, and in fact hoped that she would be able to use this situation to poke some fun at him once they got out of the elevator.

“Uh, sorry Pea,” he said, using the old name for her they had used as children. The use of the name surprised her. Kyle was never really sentimental, and bringing the name up now – particularly as she was joking around with his manhood – seemed odd. She looked up at him with a confused expression and said, “Is this alright? We don’t have to stay like this if you’re uncomfortable…” Her voice drifted off, hinting that she really didn’t want to be separated just then.

“It’s fine.” Kyle said with a smile. Looking a her in his arms like that reminded him so much of the young girl she used to be. He thought he could escort bursa still see that girl somewhere in Pam’s eyes. The joyful memories of their youth and the physical excitement he was feeling at the moment were beginning to blur together. Yes this was his sister, but he loved her dearly. Being there for her in her weakest moment and shielding her had brought out a side to himself he never knew was there. And he didn’t quite know what to do.

“I was just thinking how much you mean to me,” he finally said. “Besides being the only sister I have, I really like being around you.” He realised he was starting to sound a bit creepy, and quickly continued. “It just feels really good to know you’re safe and alright.”

Pam felt a sudden glow within her from her brother’s words. To her, they confirmed what she had started to feel, that being there in his arms just felt right somehow. It was a safe place for her, but it was also the best place for her. She reached up and quickly kissed him on the cheek. The motion of rising to her toes to kiss him forced her against the hardness in his pants. She gasped softly as she realised how hard he was, and suddenly the elevator felt much too small and too hot. She’d laughed off his reaction earlier, but getting a true sense of his manhood was like flipping a switch – suddenly the sexual side of their embrace was unavoidable. But to her surprise, she wasn’t really shocked by it. More surprising to her was her reaction to her brother’s obvious excitement. She felt elated by it, knowing that someone who cared for her as much as he did could also have physical feelings for her as well.

She looked up at him again and for the first time, saw not only love in his eyes, but also something else. She searched his face to try decipher what it was, but it was the pulsing of his cock that gave it away. She smiled as she felt the lust in his eyes.

“You seem a bit excited there,” she toyed with him. “You know, a brother shouldn’t be looking at his sister the way you’re looking at me.”

“And a sister shouldn’t so obviously enjoying feeling her brothers hard on, so I guess we’re kind of even.”

She looked at him seriously and said, “This is really not right, you know. I mean, as good as this feels right now, this is so wrong.”

“I know,” he replied, “but I can’t help it. I meant what I said. I love you Pam. I enjoy being around you, and I feel really good knowing you’re happy.”

“So what does the thing in your pants have to do with me being happy, huh?”

“Well,” he faltered, “that’s just a side-effect of me being really glad you’re here.”

She laughed at his ham-fisted attempt to recover. “You’re an idiot! What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Kyle could only shrug, conceding that the whole messy situation had him stumped.

Pam smacked him on the chest playfully and said, “Idiot. Just control yourself down there and hold me again.”

“Yes ma’am,” Kyle said as he wrapped her up in his arms again. “Although I can’t promise anything about what happens in my pants.”

Pam responded by hugging him tighter still. She was enjoying the new closeness with her brother, despite feeling conflicted. Her mind told her that she shouldn’t be feeling this way for him, but her heart and her body told her otherwise. And slowly the needs of her heart and her body began to drown out the reason in her mind. She still knew it was wrong, but she couldn’t deny that in her heart she felt it was right.

She pulled her brother closer and leaned in for another kiss, but this time she took his face in her hands and turned him to face her. Looking into his eyes, she gently leaned closer and kissed his lips.

Kyle was content to simply enjoy holding his sister, basking in the new found feelings he had discovered for her. It seemed to have unlocked a part of him that found pure joy in just being close to her. And as she turned to kiss him, he looked in her eyes and saw the spark of mischief that had been missing these last few weeks. The first brush of her lips against his was magical, her lips were so soft and delicate. And in that moment, the heat from her body, the scent of her skin and the touch of her lips all combined with the depth of emotion he had for her. He dove into that emotional whirlpool with abandon, and swept her up in his arms to kiss her as intensely as he loved her.

The sudden force of Kyle’s kiss shocked Pam for an instant, but she quickly accepted it and kissed him back, pulling his face into hers as she ran her fingers through his hair. She probed with her tongue and moaned when she felt his lips part and his tongue slipped out to meet hers. She pulled him in tighter again and drove her tongue harder into his mouth, revelling in the taste of him. His strong arms held her up and she brought her legs up to his hips, trying to mount him. He followed her by grabbing her butt and hoisting her up higher. She gasped as his hard cock slammed against her pussy, and even though they both had pants on still, she quivered at the thought of his hardness rubbing against her pussy. Grasping his head and kissing him again, Pam started to slowly grind herself against her brother’s cock, drawing a deep moan from him.

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I’m standing in front of the mirror tying my hair up out of my face when you appear behind me. Your hands slip around my bare waist as you admire my bikini. I melt into your body as your hands run up over my breasts to my hair where you pull it down. Slowly kissing my neck you turn me around. I respond to your kisses by pressing myself up against you. Our lips collide and the intensity at which we kiss makes me weak at the knees. I run my hands down your chest, feeling the slight define of your muscles as I get lower. I reach the top of your shorts and slip my hand lower feeling evidence of your arousal.

I feel your hands on my back, undoing my bikini top. It falls to the floor and you lower your head to suck my nipples into your mouth. A gasp escapes from me and I arch my back. I pull your head up and kiss your lips. As I get down on my knees I pull your shorts down with me. The floor is hard but I don’t care. Your cock bursa escort springs out in front of my face and I lick my lips not wanting to wait to suck you. I grasp you in my hand and give you a few strokes. I open my mouth and suck you in. The feel of your cock filling my mouth makes me moan in anticipation of having you inside my pussy. My lips are tight around your shaft as I slide my mouth over and over along it. My hands run over your stomach and down your thighs. I slip one onto your balls and give them a squeeze which elicits a moan from you. You start to thrust your hips, your cock getting further into my mouth as my throat opens to let you down. My other hand goes back to your cock to help me suck you further. I swirl my tongue over the head and taste you. I can feel you getting harder and pull away. I want to have more fun before I make you cum.

You pull me to my feet and push me back on the bed. You kiss me hard bursa escort bayan and move down my body leaving a trail of kisses on your way. You reach my bikini bottoms and pull them swiftly off. Parting my legs you run a finger along my slick lips. I shiver in expectancy and suddenly your mouth is on my clit. It feels amazing and I squirm under under you. You slip a finger inside me and continue licking my clit, your tongue doing things to me that could send me to heaven. I’m so close to cumming but I don’t want to without your cock inside me. I pull you up to me and you flip me over so I’m straddling you. We kiss and I can feel you rubbing up and down my slit.

I’ve had enough of the teasing and tell you I want you inside me. I can feel your cock at my entrance and I push down so I’m impaled on you. I stay still enjoying how you feel inside me, stretching me more than ever before. Slowly we start to move, your cock slipping escort bursa in and out of me, each thrust getting harder. I slide my hand to my clit and start to rub it. I see you watching me and it turns me on even more than I already am. You have your hands on my breasts, pinching and rolling my nipples. You pull out of me and push me down your body. Once again your cock is in my mouth but this time I can taste myself. Its almost enough to send me over the edge right then and there but I still want you inside me. I slither back up your body and your cock slips inside me easily. I rise and fall on you, feeling every part of your cock inside my pussy. We’re both out of breath and I can feel you getting closer and closer. You feel so good inside me, thrusting deeply.

Suddenly the pleasure reaches a peak and I’m cumming, hard. I’m clenching and squeezing around your cock and it triggers your own release. You’re pushing as far into me as you can get and I feel you hit the hilt of my pussy. I collapse onto you as we both come down from the high, panting to get our breath back. As you soften, you slip out of me. We fall asleep, completely satisfied.

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When I eventually decided to get up, I carried Mom to the bathroom with me. I decided that we both needed a shower to wash off the funk of our aggressive sex. I was feeling very affectionate toward her, more than I ever would have imagined.

The shy mother I grew up with had quickly become a fighter when she accidentally walked in on me masturbating. Through a series of circumstances beyond our control, I had ended up first spanking her into submission and then aggressively having sex with her.

Now Rita, as I was already thinking of her, had agreed to place herself completely under my control. I was beginning to understand what had led her to this place in her life where such things appeared normal to her. Abused, first by her father and then by mine, Rita was a woman just waiting for the first strong man to come along and scoop her up. She was a tasty morsel for any man’s taking.

Only she had made herself look less tasty in order to hide that fact after my father had left ten years ago. Behind ugly hair and dumpy clothes, Rita withdrew from the world. She never went out or had fun. She was punishing herself for twenty plus years of being the whore other men had forced her to be. Now it was up to me to reeducate Rita and teach her to be the woman I knew she could become.

So, I began with a simple warm shower. The hot water stung Rita’s sore ass. As I held her under the spray, I examined the cheeks of her bottom and her flanks that I had brutalized. She had been attacking me at the time too, biting and scratching as best she could, which wasn’t much considering our size difference. But I had gone too far. I could see that now in examining her flesh and the bruises that would be there for a while. I was gratified to see that no permanent damage had been done, however.

Had I been thinking clearly at the time, I wouldn’t have whipped her quite so hard. When she needed to be spanked again, I’d have to do so in a more controlled fashion.

And Rita would need it. We both completely understood that now. Rita needed discipline, and even beyond that, being controlled sexually excited her. When I had pulled her off of my lap, my denim jeans had been soaked.

I had found that controlling and disciplining Rita had excited me as well. I’d never be content with just going back to being her dutiful son.

I’d seen a movie once that said when a man saved someone’s life, he became responsible for them. In a real sense, I knew I had changed, and probably saved, Rita’s life today. She was my responsibility now.

Consciously accepting that duty, I began to wash Rita from head to toe. As we went along, I told her some of the things we would need to change.

Her short, unattractive hair was matted and stringy after our sweaty affair.

“You’ll let your hair grow out again, Rita,” I told her firmly, my voice brooking no quarrel or discussion.

“Yes, Robert,” she sputtered as I held her head under the spray to wash out the shampoo.

Mother used to have such beautiful, long black hair. I had seen it in pictures. Sexual pictures that she had never wanted anyone to see.

“You’ll start wearing makeup again,” I decided as I washed her face. “Nothing too extreme. We’ll go over it later. You can show me what you think and I’ll decide if I like it.”

I knew my own limitations. Makeup wasn’t something that I knew a lot about.

As I washed Mom’s chest and stomach and under her arms, I could see the ravages of middle age creeping up on her already. She was only thirty-five, but Rita hadn’t taken good care of herself lately. With no man to look after her or to look nice for, she’d put on extra pounds. Her sedentary job as a comptroller for a small retail firm wasn’t giving her much exercise either.

“I’ll work out an exercise routine for you, Rita,” I told mother. “I don’t expect you to be a teenager, but we’ll get rid of this loose skin under your arms and your soft belly. Not that you’re not attractive. You are. But, I want you to start taking better care of your body. It’s mine now, and I won’t have you abusing it.”

Mother nodded dutifully and smiled as I caressed her big breasts under the warm spray. She stuck out her chest and moaned attractively, causing my cock to stir.

That’s when I pulled Rita into our first kiss. I had to lean down a bit as Mom was at least eight inches shorter than me. She rose up on her toes and craned her neck to reach me, though, as eager for the intimacy of the dance of our tongues as I was. I crushed her smaller body against my firm chest and she swooned in my arms. It was just as I had always imagined. A strong man with a big hard cock was all Mom had been waiting for.

Squatting down, I had Rita first turn toward me so I could wash her unkempt bush, and then away from me so I could wash her slightly sagging bottom. The exercise routine would take care of the latter. I’d have to decide how radical to be about the former.

“Have you ever shaved your pussy, Rita?” I bursa escort asked her. “I mean really shaved it bare?”

“Yes, Robert,” she replied, becoming suddenly tense at the question. “My father shaved me first. Then your daddy always insisted I keep it that way.”

Her pubis and vagina were not unattractive, just as they were. The hair was black in color and silky in texture. It was still sparse enough that it I could see mother’s pale flesh through it.

“We’ll just trim it back for now. I think the dark color looks delicious, personally,” I informed her.

Rita relaxed and opened her legs a bit more for my inspection. Her vulva was fleshy, the lips rising between her legs like dark, rippling hillocks.

As I began to wash the accumulated sperm and slime from off of Rita’s inner thighs, I had her turn around to face the wall and bend over. Mother had wide set ass cheeks and the small, near-black ring of her anus was clearly visible. After scrubbing down Rita’s thighs, which obviously were in need of the same exercise, I used the rougher washcloth to scrub the long, darkened furrow of her asscrack.

Rita submitted to this indignity without comment or complaint. The only sounds in the bathroom were the hiss of the spray and then my mother’s delicately soft moans.

I used my finger, slick with soap to press inside the tight ring, committed to scrubbing mother thoroughly. The increased volume of Rita’s moans informed me that such thoroughness was not unappreciated.

But this shower was not for her pleasure. She’d had perhaps too much of that already this afternoon. Turning Rita around, I instructed her to now rinse and wash my body, but to be quicker about it. I’d already had one shower just after work. That’s what had started this whole affair.

She needed time to familiarize herself with my body too, though. Mother hadn’t seen me naked since I was a boy. At least, not until she walked in on me masturbating. I’d changed a lot since then, especially in the last year.

I was a skinny redheaded stringbean when I had graduated high school. As a carpenter’s helper with a construction company, I’d filled out and bulked up. I now had stronger thighs, a hard stomach, and a wide, muscular chest. The only thing that had stayed the same was my hard, ten inches that was even now waving proudly. I had looked like a freak before, skinny and all dick. Working steadily in a physically demanding profession had given me a body to match my sexual equipment.

I wasn’t surprised when Mom wanted to inspect between my legs most of all. She got down on her knees and gently bathed my scrotum with her soft hands. She lathered the staff that so recently had helped to tame her. She lovingly turned me toward the spray to wash the suds away. Then when I turned back to her, Rita rose up off her haunches and engulfed the swollen crown into her small mouth.

In my mind, I’d given up on ever getting a good blowjob. I’d seen pictures and even looked at a few porno shorts over the Internet but my experience with real women or girls was practically non-existent. Nothing I had seen had led me to believe that a real woman could take my larger cock completely into her mouth.

Not that I hadn’t dreamed about blowjobs like every other boy. Not that I hadn’t dreamed about Mom herself giving them to me. In the pictures I’d seen of her, she often had a stiff erection between her lips. None of those cocks were as long or as thick as mine, though.

And she did struggle with it, especially at first. But Mom was a trooper. She had as much determination to please her man as I had to take care of her. Slowly, inch by agonizing inch, Mom worked my hard shaft back into her hungry throat.

Her mouth was wet and warm. She was applying just enough suction, just enough friction with her lips, to make it feel wonderful. Her tongue made a slick groove she used to slide me in and out. It felt like fucking her cunt, or so I imagined. In truth, I’d only fucked Mom once and then I’d been slamming so hard and fast into her that I hadn’t noticed the details.

Mostly I was straining to control my breathing, staring up at the ceiling, and trying desperately to hold back the wonderful sensation. From the first moment Rita took my cock into her mouth, I knew that if I just relaxed and let the momentum build naturally, I would have sprayed the back of her throat too quickly. But I held back, allowing Mother the time necessary to get a good taste of her new love, and time to exercise the muscles necessary to taking care of me this way regularly.

As my cockhead hit the back of her throat, though, I had to look down and see that wonderful sight I thought I’d never see. She had it all, her eyes bright with excitement, her nose exhaling rapidly into the red curls that surrounded the base of my shaft.

When mother drew back, it looked as though she was smiling up at me before she plunged quickly back down to the depths. Her throat constricted tight about the knob as though she was trying to swallow bursa escort bayan it down. I rocked, moaning loudly, and by the time she’d done that twice all thought of holding back escaped me.

My hot load boiled up and out, as though I was feeding Mom my very life itself. As she greedily sucked my seed, I felt more and more empty, more and more relaxed. It was as though Rita were sucking out everything bad, everything impure I’d ever done. When she was through, I felt empty, but it was an empty feeling that felt sooo good!

As I leaned against the wall, panting and recuperating, Rita rose up on her feet, rubbing her jaw.

“First you stretch my cunt and now you’ve stretched my mouth, Robert,” she said in a deep, husky voice. She hugged me, pressing her cheek hard into my firm chest. “I don’t know if I can take you in my one remaining hole just yet, but I can’t wait to have you there too.”

Overwhelmed by the sentiment, I grabbed Rita’s hair and pressed her back against the wall, kissing her hard as I milked those big lovely tits in my large hands. She squirmed, wanting desperately to hold me I think, but I pinned her arms and pressed her firmly back against the wall instead.

When I trusted my own voice to be steady, I told her, “Fucking you has built up a real appetite, woman, and you promised my favorite meal. If you don’t deliver, and deliver soon, I might just have to eat you up instead.”

Rita groaned with sexy laughter and her eyes danced wickedly at the thought. I gave her sore ass a tender swat and told her to get out and dry herself off, then tell me when she was ready to dry me too.

She took her time about it, lollygaging about, enjoying the rough cloth on my chest and back and ass. She licked the excess water off my dick and then dried it lovingly, her eyes filled with an incomprehensible devotion.

Finally I had to run her off. I’d never eat if I left her to her heart’s content.

The meal was good, even if it was hastily prepared and presented. I don’t suppose it helped much that I was in the small kitchen, watching every move my naked mother made as she went about it.

Later, after we’d done the dishes together, we lay on the couch listening to music. Rita’s ass was getting tender, so I allowed her to lie across my chest and stroked her back as we talked quietly together about the future.

We went to bed early at my insistence. Tomorrow morning would come too soon for me. Joe, my foreman, was picking me up early since my truck had broken down. Without any comment, we both went straight to mother’s larger bed after our separate nightly rituals.

“Robert, I know it’s completely your decision, but can a make a request please, son?” Mother asked.

“You can always ask me anything, Rita,” I said, emphasizing her given name. “Unless I know your concerns and desires, how can I take care of you like I should?”

Rita smiled, a bit overcome I think. She always seemed to expect to be treated brutally. I’m sure she thought that only brutal men could dominate. So far, every tenderness I’d shown her had been met with surprise, then grateful acceptance.

“I know tomorrow I’ll be sore,” she said, her voice carrying no hint of accusation or bitterness at the thought. “Tonight, could we be together again once more before we go asleep? With you on top? I’m not sure if I’ll be able to enjoy it as much tomorrow, but earlier today, I couldn’t see your face.”

Mom had come a long way toward accepting our situation to be able to make such a request. Maybe it had been the gentleness after dinner. Maybe it had been the encouragement I had been giving her as she prepared the meal and as we ate. Either way, it was a tender thought, and not a bad idea.

Just for a moment, I considered whether I really wanted my mother to fall in love with me. After all, by her own admission, Rita did have whorish ways. Even though she had cleaned her life up and lived the straight and narrow these last years, now her libido had been awakened again. The mother I had known throughout my youth could have never cum as many times or done the things my Rita had enjoyed today.

But men had used Rita all her life, apparently without concern or affection for her at all. Would it hurt so much if I allowed her to fall in love right now, even though she still had a lot to unlearn?

I made the decision, then and there, that it wouldn’t. I’d have to be strong enough for the both of us. Hard decisions would have to be made; hard choices with big consequences for the rest of our lives. I’d be the one making those, not Rita.

So it really didn’t matter if she fell in love or not. Or if I did, for that matter; which I hadn’t… yet.

All that mattered was that I kept focused and was willing to make those hard decisions when they had to be made. Determination. Will. Focus.

“Sure, Rita,” I told her warmly. “That’d be fine.”

As she crawled naked into the middle of the bed, she told me, “I know you have to be at work early. You don’t escort bursa have to prepare me or anything. I’m ready; and I can tell, so are you.”

My erection was pretty obvious, sticking out before me like a stiff baton. I crawled up onto the bed and between Rita’s legs. She was looking into my eyes, even as her hand reached out to grab my prick.

“You don’t have to be gentle, Robert,” she murmured in a husky voice as she steered my cock to harbor. “I’ve never been able to respond to that, anyway. I’m Rita, just remember that. Rita that needs to fuck you, baby. Rita needs to fuck you bad!”

As I slid into Rita’s warmth, her breath came in shallow gulps. It was an amazing sight, this woman that I had thought I knew so well. Shy Mother. Unassuming Mother. The woman everyone tended to overlook.

As I looked into her eyes while I stuffed her with my cock, I could certainly see why she thought herself the whore. Mother’s depth of passion was astounding. I had to stop halfway because she was still so tight. As I worked in an out with short, smooth jabs, Rita tossed her head from side to side with the same smooth rhythm. Then, when she had loosened up and my cock was slick with her copious juices, I pushed in hard and deep as mother cried out with her first curse word of the session.

“Oh fuck, baby! So good!”

Mother only cursed when she was climaxing. I felt her clench at my cock like a tight, velvet vise. A very wet velvet vise indeed!

Her eyes cleared and she craned her neck to look up into mine. I started with a slow, agonizing stroke to make it last. Mother’s eyes at first panicked. Then, after her legs came up and wrapped around me, she thrust her hips up sharply and threw her head back and bellowed again.

“Fuck that’s a big cock!”

When her wits had returned, I increased the pace, setting up a steady slap of our two bellies. There was a wet, smacking sound and with every backstroke it felt as though I was turning her inside out as she gripped me tight. I felt my heavy nuts spanking her ass with every stroke. Rita tossed her head from side to side and grunted from somewhere deep in her throat.

“You fuckin’ bastard! You fuckin’ shit!”

It was easier to pump her harder after that. Mother’s words elicited violence, even when I didn’t feel that way. It seemed the only way she could respond. The only way she could feel pleasure.

“Your fuckin’ cock is killing me! Oh damn! So fuckin’ deep!”

I’d heard of things like this, read about it in dirty stories. Multi-orgasmic was the more clinical word, if I wasn’t mistaken. Whore and slut were the more common labels women like mother were given.

“You motherfucker!” Rita said intently, her eyes boring into mine as she came again.

That seemed to be a favorite curse of hers. An appropriate one, too. I was fucking her, fucking my mother. So I fucked her good. I fucked her hard.

The bed shook as we slapped against each other. I felt Rita’s hands on my ass, pulling me down harder with each thrust. With every stroke I tried to get into her wet hole deeper and deeper. Mother’s pliant body yielded to the tender violence, accepting my hard sword like she was its natural sheath.

At last, I couldn’t hold back any longer. Rita needed it. Her eyes, hungry for cock – for semen – begged me. Her hips clung to my thrusting pelvis. Her cunt sucked at my stiff prick, aching to drain my balls.

Pulling her arms over her head and arching myself into her forcefully, I warned her, “Here it comes you sweet bitch!”

Mother exploded with me, cursing and flailing about like a whirl-a-wheel at the county fair.

“You sweet motherfuckin’ prick! You sonofabitch! You fuckin’bastard!”

We came together, pressing flesh roughly against each other, staring deeply into one another’s eyes. The intensity threatened to overwhelm me, but I was strong. I wore her out. I came, pumping hard and deep, until Rita was the one to look away and not me.

Only then did I allow myself to relax and lean heavily against her. Rita cradled me in her soft arms, pulling my heavier weight down on top of her. She struggled to breathe, but every time I tried to rise, she pulled me back down instead.

“Oh, baby,” she crooned, suddenly tender again. “That was so good baby. Mama’s sorry for all the things she said. I just can’t help it. It’s the way I’ve always been.”

“I know Rita,” I told her soothingly. “At first it troubled me. Now, it doesn’t matter. Don’t let it worry you.”

“You’re so good for me, Robert,” she whispered breathily. “So strong and forceful.”

Eventually I coaxed her into rolling on our sides. Still she clung to me. We lay, locked tightly in each other’s arms until we dozed. Only then did mother’s arms relax and her legs unwind from around me.

I slept like the dead until the alarm went off. Mother had remembered to set hers for me. She rose, an hour earlier than she needed to, and reluctantly made breakfast as I took a quick shower.

“No, you can’t suck me in the shower again,” I had been forced to tell her, laughing gently at her persistence. “Breakfast now, or I’ll bend you over the table again. I’m sure there’s a spatula or wooden handled spoon I could find to help me.”

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I wanted to give a big thanks to all the readers who have given me support and productive criticism through the first 4 parts of this tale of Peter and Dottie (looking at you Comentarista82 and honybipola!). All the feedback, positive and otherwise, has hopefully produced a story that is fun to read. I’m really thankful that so many of you understand this is not just a story of a brother and sister boinking but a love story, the aspect that is most important to me. I really want readers to finish reading and think, “Holy crap, that’s love.”

Disclaimer: As always, anyone involved in sexual situations is 18 or older.

**********************************

Dottie and I were afforded about four hours of sleep when my phone alarm alerted us that we may want to consider possibly thinking about the prospect of potentially getting out of bed. Maybe. If it wasn’t too much trouble. I pushed the snooze button and lay there, basking in the wonder that was the love of the beautiful creature sharing my bed. She was still cuddled up with me, her head lying on my chest, snoring softly and drooling. It was actually a pretty funny sight but, my god, she was gorgeous.

We had really tested the engineering and structure of my bed last night. It was the most physically and emotionally fulfilling night of my life. I was happy to find out that Dottie was very orgasmic and that apparently she could speak in Tongues. That’s what it sounded like anyway. Despite my pledge from earlier in the day, we did not have sex in every room in the house plus the backyard; we never made it out of my room. We simply couldn’t be bothered to move. Next time, maybe.

When we could go no further, completely spent and exhausted, we passed out in a big, sweaty heap. I actually woke up an hour later to find my soft dick in Dottie’s mouth, although she was snoozing away. She was proving, from a small sample size, to be insatiable. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to keep up but it was going to be fun trying.

It was good that I woke up that first time anyway, not just to pee, but I remembered that we had left the front door open. I ran downstairs to find the door wide open, the foyer covered in water. That was a problem to face in the morning.

Dottie startled me out of my reverie. “Your bed is really gross right now.”

I chuckled, replying, “I know. I’ll change the sheets later.”

She shifted slightly and wiped my blanket across my chest. “Ew. Sorry. I drooled on you.” She giggled softly. “You’re beds a mess. You’re a mess. I’m a mess. Is it like this every time?”

“No, I think tonight was exceptional. But you are very inspiring.”

“I don’t know what’s come over me.” She began lightly running her fingers across my chest. “I know I’ve been horny for a long time but I had no idea sex would be this awesome! Mollie never made it sound like this!” She paused. “Would you believe, even after the crazy sex we had last night that I actually dreamed about giving you a blowjob? I think I may be a nympho.”

“Actually,” I replied, “that wasn’t a dream. I woke up for a minute and my dick was in your mouth.”

She laughed. “Oh my god, I’m knob-gobblin’ in my sleep! What have you done to me, Peter?”

“Well, I can tell you it’s not nearly as much as I’d like to.”

Dottie raised herself up on her elbows and kissed me, then looked away. “Sorry, morning breath.” She pecked me again and lay back down and cuddled close.

We stayed there on my bed for awhile and just enjoyed each other’s company. After a moment my alarm went off and I pushed snooze again.

Dottie reached down and began rubbing me on my stomach, legs, hips and chest, everywhere but on my cock. Just lightly and lovingly caressing and exploring. “Peter?” she said quietly.

“Hmm?” I was feeling pretty euphoric.

“Am I your girlfriend?”

I was very startled by that question. “Girlfriend?”

She stopped caressing me and brought her hand back to my chest. “I know, I’m your sister. But that doesn’t seem adequate. I love you so much more than a sister can. I also know that I can’t just go out and say, ‘Hey, have you met my boyfriend-brother, Peter?’.” She grew quiet. “I wish.”

“You are my sister and you are my lover. I can’t believe I can love someone as much as I love you.”

“But I want to be your girlfriend. At least inside this house.” She pulled herself up again and pierced me with her amazing gray eyes. “Can’t I be both?”

I met her look and dropped into character. “Dottie, I think you’re really pretty and nice. You also are really smart and a snazzy dresser.” I was really laying it on thick. “So… I was wondering… Would you be my girlfriend?”

She caught on quickly, as she always did. “Gosh, Peter, I don’t know.” She was chewing on her bottom lip, a habit of hers that drove me wild. “Mollie really likes you and I don’t want to make her mad. She is my friend, you know.”

“Well, gee, Dottie. Can’t we just do what we want and not worry about her this one time? bursa escort I think you like me, too, don’t you, Dottie?”

She put her finger to her chin, feigning deep thought. “Well, golly, Peter, I don’t know…” Then she turned to me and smiled. “I guess I like you a little bit. Okay, I’ll be your girlfriend.” She kissed me chastely on the cheek. “Now, then. How about a blowjob?”

I groaned. “Yes. No. Both.”

She laughed and lay back down. “You know, you cum like a porn star.”

“Yeah? And how much porn has my sweet, naïve sister watched?”

“Well, just that stuff Mollie showed me. That was gross. They were like fire hoses opened up. So maybe not like a porn star. But you sure filled me up. Twice. Plus in my mouth and on that pillow that I threw off the side.” She glanced over the bed. “You might want to get that in the wash, too.”

“Your mouth and the pillow were the same time. Still, that was my first time going three times. So that’s pretty good.”

“Won’t be the last. Tonight we’re trying for four.”

“Oh, god, Dottie, you’re going to kill me.”

She laughed and sat up. “Speaking of hoses, I need to go hose myself off and get started on this day.” She swung her legs off the side and stood. “Unlike you, the rest of us have to go to school.” She stopped at the door and turned to me in all her naked glory. She put her hand on her hip and smiled gloriously at me. Oh my god, she was beautiful. “Peter, I love you. Thank you for loving me back.” She didn’t wait for my reply, just spun on her heel and headed to the bathroom.

I stayed in bed for a bit longer and reflected on the fact that I was one lucky bastard. The most beautiful girl in the world, with a perfect body, awesome personality, and sharp as a broken stick, loved me. She didn’t just love the sex. She loved me. Most men, I think, would have jumped at the opportunity with Celeste that I had last night. But they wouldn’t have Dottie waiting for them. She was just for me. It was an easy decision.

Just then a text pinged on my phone.

–Good morning Peter I want you and Dottie to dome over for dinner tonight @ 6:30 okay–

–*come over lol–

I set my phone back on my night stand. Oh lord, I was not prepared for Aunt Dorothy.

I climbed out of bed and walked to the bathroom. Dottie was already in the shower, scrubbing away and humming some inane pop song. The shower door was clear glass and I just stood and watched her wash her hair. She had her back turned to me and I couldn’t help but stare at her butt. It didn’t matter that I had seen it naked many times in the last few days and had my grubby paws all over it, I couldn’t get enough of its beautiful, round perfection. It had no cellulite or dimples; it was round and smooth and tight, the ‘bounce-a-quarter’ kind of tight. Her skin was flawless. She was everyman’s ideal.

She turned her head to catch me looking. “Are you looking at my ass?”

I smiled. “I’m looking at the whole thing. I can’t believe how perfect you are.”

“I’m hardly perfect, Peter,” she said with a grin. “You’re blinded by love.” She ran her hands over her breasts and tweaked a nipple. “My tits are too big.” She slid her hands down her body. “My hips are kinda narrow, I look like a boy.” She ran her hands down her backside and cupped her butt cheeks. “And my ass is too fat.” She glanced down at my inflating cock. “But I see you disagree with me.”

She tapped the shower door with her finger and it popped open. She stood expectantly. “I knew you’d come for me.” She stuck her finger in her mouth and chewed on the tip.

I stepped into the shower and was immediately startled by how hot it was. “Oh my lord!”

Dottie giggled. “Yeah, it’s hot. I was extra dirty this morning, needed extra hot water.”

I stood in front of her and embraced her, wrapping her in my arms. She reached down and ran her hands across my butt. “You’re so busy staring at my butt, I don’t get the opportunity to tell you how gorgeous and kissable yours is.”

“Ha! No competition. God made yours and said, ‘Well, that’s the acme of ass development, boys, give everyone else whatever’s left.'”

She smiled into my chest. “I love you so much.” She paused and brought her hands to the back of my head. “Is this forever?”

I leaned down and kissed her. “It won’t be easy but one way or another, it’s forever.”

She kissed me firm on the lips and snaked her tongue in. Then she dropped to her knees. She grabbed a washcloth and ran it up my happy dick and used it to gently massage my balls. “There. Nice and clean.” She leaned forward and took me into her mouth. With more than half of it in her mouth she looked up at me, then pulled slowly off. “I’m getting better.” She bathed the head with her tongue and turned her head sideways to plant kisses up and down my full length.

“Dottie, this feels amazing but you’re going to be late for school,” I said between gasps. She had a very talented tongue and a mouth that my dick just bursa escort bayan seemed to fit perfectly in.

“It’s okay. I’ll just have to skip breakfast.” She smiled and kissed the crown of my dick. “Or maybe I won’t have to.” She ran her tongue across the head and smiled.

“Dottie, I’ve cum three times in the last few hours. This may take awhile.”

She sat back on her heels and pouted. “Oh poo. I don’t want you spending all day with a hard-on. Some other girl might want to take care of it.”

“Well, me either, but I’ll be working all day in an auto-parts store selling oil filters to old, greasy men who haven’t washed their bib overalls in two months. Chances are I won’t be too stimulated.” I looked down to where Dottie still kneeled, gazing up at me with a smile and continuing to stroke my dick. “Of course, with this image in my brain, you may be right.”

“Well, we’ll have to continue this the moment you get home from work.”

“Actually,” I began, filled with renewed dread, “I just got a text from Aunt Dorothy. She wants to have us over for dinner tonight.”

Dottie stood and hugged me. “Uh, oh. Looks like she’s forcing you into a conversation. But don’t stress too much. You know she’s cool.”

“You’re not the one fucking her sweet, innocent 18-year-old niece.”

“True. But, honestly, she doesn’t know that part. When she and I talked, we hadn’t done that yet.”

I was less certain. “Maybe but Aunt Dorothy is a very smart woman, as you know. If she doesn’t know for sure that we’ve had sex, she surely suspects it strongly. I think if we spend more than a few minutes around her, she’ll figure it out.”

Dottie stepped out and grabbed a towel. “Yeah.” She began drying herself off, causing her breasts to jiggle and sway in a very delightful way. She laughed. “I think you’re right. If she sees you looking at me like that, she’ll know for sure. You might want keep your eyes in your head.”

“I can’t promise anything.”

“Well, at the very least, you might want to keep that thing strapped down,” she said, pointing at my rigid cock. “No way we could explain that. Even Carlie would notice that and she’s not exactly the sharpest crayon in the box.”

As we left the bathroom, I said, “You know, one time Carlie asked me if she could see my dick.”

Dottie was stunned. “What? When did she do that?”

“About two months ago. I guess Anna told her she should ask. I don’t know if it was a dare or what.”

“Omigosh, what a bitch. Why would she do that? She’s our cousin!”

I stopped and grabbed her shoulder. “Um, do I really need to point this out?”

Dottie’s eyes dropped to the floor. “Touche.” She grabbed my hand and we walked to her bedroom. “But you’re mine.”

“Yes, I’m yours. And you know Carlie’s not a bitch.”

As I sat on the edge of her bed Dottie went to her closet and started sorting through her clothes. “I know but that makes me so mad! You’re my dream guy and I can’t keep our own cousin’s hands off you!” She set a pair of jeans and a T-shirt on the bed and began to look through her underwear drawer. “How does that even come up in conversation? ‘Hi, Peter, come on in, I’ll go get my dad for you, do you want a soda, show me your cock.'”

“It was nothing like that. I came over to listen to some records of Aunt Dorothy’s and Carlie came in the room. She was looking really nervous and I asked what was wrong. She said, ‘Nothing really,’ but that she had a date with a guy and she was nervous that he might want to have sex with her. She said she was kind of afraid of sex and thought she might run away if she ever saw a dick. They seemed really scary to her, for some reason.”

“Yours would probably scare the crap out of her.”

I laughed. “Nah, not so bad. Anyway, she just asked if she could see it so she wouldn’t be so scared. I think she thought if she saw mine it wouldn’t be so bad for her, and I would be safe. She was very matter-of-fact and clinical about it. She didn’t seem aroused or anything. I think Anna probably convinced her to ask.”

“So?”

“So?”

“Did you show her?” She walked toward me holding a pair of blue cotton panties with red lips on the butt. She kneeled in front of me and began stroking me. “Did you show her this wonder of nature?”

“What…” I gasped. “What do you think?”

She wrapped her full, moist lips just around the very tip and sucked softly. “Mmmm,” she purred, pulling off and rubbing my dick across her lips. “I’ll bet you wanted to, huh?”

“She’s not you,” I panted.

“She’s very pretty, though. You can’t deny that.” She resumed stroking, not taking her eyes from my face.

“But she’s not you. I love you.”

“It wouldn’t be hard, though,” she said seductively as she kissed the head of my cock, “to close your eyes and imagine her, would it?” She plunged her mouth down as deep as she could, her tongue dancing across my shaft.

The sad part was that she was right. I could easily imagine it was Carlie’s escort bursa ever-present blonde ponytail whipping back and forth as she bobbed on me. “Why…” I was breathless. “Why are you saying this?”

She looked up at me again. “I’m trying to be sexy. Is it not working?” She stood up and straddled my legs. Reaching underneath her, she grabbed my cock and slid it easily into her. She was so wet. She settled all the way down until I was buried completely in her. Her breasts were right in my face and I sucked a nipple into my mouth. She just held still, not moving on my cock. She had the most beautiful and content look on her face.

“Don’t move,” she said. “I just want to remember this feeling when I’m at school today.” She didn’t move but she did lightly, perhaps unintentionally, squeeze my dick with her kegel muscles. She reached around and hugged me tight. “I’m sorry if I teased you too much. I know you love me as much as I love you. I probably shouldn’t have brought Carlie up.” She pulled back and looked squarely at me. “Actually, you brought up Carlie, didn’t you?”

She pulled off me and stood up. “I have to get dressed now, naughty boy.” She looked down at my glistening, hard-as-granite erection. “Promise me you won’t do anything with that until tonight. I’m going to be thinking about it all day.” She pulled her panties up her legs. “I should probably bring an extra pair of panties today. Think I’m going to ruin these.”

I leaned back on my hands and just watched as she dressed. She reveled in it, taking her time in putting her bra on and pulling her jeans on with her back turned to me so I could see her mouthwatering butt bounce. She put her shirt on slowly so I could fondle and caress her body for as long as possible. And at every step, she asked me what I thought about how she looked. I could only answer with the truth: she was perfection.

Too soon, she was completely dressed, faded blue jeans with holes up one thigh and a white T-shirt with red lips and tongue on it that read ‘Stones Tour 1972- Cleveland, OH’. It wasn’t authentic but still pretty cool. She was also wearing her black Chuck Taylor’s and topped everything with a blue beanie. “It matches my panties,” she said. “I’m accessorizing.”

It occurred to me that Dottie was now completely dressed and I was still completely nude and still at full salute. “I guess I should get dressed also,” I said, stating the obvious.

I still had nearly five hours before I had to be at work so I went to my room and threw on some shorts and a T-shirt. I sat down at my desk and picked up my guitar and pulled out the sheet music Steve Bender gave me. The song his brother had written was called “In a Different Light” and was fairly complex. He only jotted down notes about the bass lines but they looked like they were a bitch. The guitar part was basically just four chords and a solo of about 20 seconds; in fact, at the point where the guitar solo was supposed to fit, he had written “wing it”. Very bass and drum heavy. Fine with me.

Dottie stepped into my room and I immediately noticed she was wearing glasses. “Why?”

She smiled shyly and said, “I know, it’s silly.” She took them off with a look of embarrassment. “When I was younger I always wished that I needed glasses. I always thought Meghan looked great with them and I wanted to be just like her.” She fiddled with them and said quietly, “I wish I remembered her better.”

“Me too.” I grabbed her hand and held her fingers loosely, then pulled her down to my lap. “You should wear them. You look hot.”

She slid them back on and smiled. “They’re not real. They’re just plastic but I like them. Do I look scholarly?”

“Very erudite.”

She pulled the glasses to the tip of her nose and said, “Very good, Mr. Harper. I expect you to work hard today and keep your nose in the…in the…” She smiled brightly. “Well, we’ll figure someplace good for you to keep your nose tonight.”

Dottie giggled, then stood up and led me downstairs. I followed the perfect sway of her butt into the kitchen, where she made some toast and we chatted about what to expect at Aunt Dorothy’s tonight. She was much less nervous than me about this dinner.

“Don’t stress so much, Peter. It’s going to be fine.” She walked close to me. Outside we could hear Mollie’s Camry pull up. “She can’t make me stop loving you. She wouldn’t even try. Just occupy yourself with other things.” She grabbed my hand and brought it around to her butt. “Just think about this.”

There was a sharp rap on the front door which made both of us jump slightly.

She grabbed the front of my shorts and squeezed my dick. “And I’ll think about this.” She pulled me to her and kissed me passionately. Then she stepped away and opened the front door.

Mollie stepped quickly in. She was dressed in jeans and a cute, form-fitting, yellow top that dipped down just enough to show a hint of cleavage. “Hey, Harpers! Let’s do this thing! Quick, Dottie, we gotta get to Poppy’s quick! I need about a quart of coffee, stat!” She glanced over at me and looked quickly up and down. “Hey, Peter. Going extra casual today?” An inquisitive expression crossed her pretty face. “Are you okay? Something on your mind?”

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