A Collection of Short Stories Volume 2
This is Volume 2 of my collection of short stories. Most of them are less than 4,000 or 5,000 words, but the occasional one may run over and a few are very short, less than 2,000 words. I will add new ones to the top of the index from time to time, and repost.
Here's a link to Volume 1
I hope you will enjoy them, and thanks for reading. Please fill out the comments section at the end, and let me know what you thought of them, as it gives me feedback as to what my readers like and don't like.
Click on the title in the list below to jump that story.
Sara & Tommy
Brianna's Breast Buds
The Mysterious Sisters
Love On The Orient Express
Mf 14, ped, 1st.
Melrose O'Brien is offered something he has wanted his whole adult life–the chance to have sex with a young girl, but it comes at a price.
Word Count: 3,168
Date Published: July 03 2018
I'll pose a hypothetical question. What if you knew who was going to win the Baseball World Series; or which horse was going to win the Triple Crown; or the winning number on the Powerball Lottery? You would place bets or buy a lottery ticket, and you would be rich right?
Melrose O'Brien, Mel to his parents, his older brother, and his one and only friend in the whole wide world was one fortunate man this warm May afternoon. No, he was not going to know the name of a baseball team. Neither was he going to receive the name of a horse. And he was not going to be given winning lottery ticket numbers. He was going to receive what he had wanted all of his sad adult thirty-nine years.
An older distinguished looking gentleman approached the bench on which Melrose O'Brien sat watching the local high school girls' soccer team practice. The man's receding hairline was hidden by a dark-grey trilby. But the hat couldn't hide his grey–almost white hair that was neatly trimmed an inch above the collar of his white shirt.
The man was dressed in a dark-grey three-piece suit with cuffs at the trouser bottoms, and three buttons at the jacket cuffs. An inch and a half of French cuff were exposed beyond the jacket's sleeves and were fastened with gold cufflinks. There was a silver watch chain attached to the vest buttonhole with a T-bar; the chain disappeared into a fob pocket.
The gentleman carried a black ebony walking stick with a strange silver top in the shape of a gargoyle. As he neared where Melrose O'Brien sat, he tipped the brim of his hat with his index finger. The hand to which it belonged held a pair of cream colored gloves.
"Good day sir," the gentleman said. "May I join you?"
"It's a free country buddy," Melrose O'Brien replied, not taking his eyes off two young girls running not six feet away.
The stranger dusted the seat off with his gloves, leaned his walking stick against the cast iron armrest and sat down. The two of them sat in silence watching the girls practice. Melrose O'Brien thought the man to be a little eccentric. I mean who dresses up in a three-piece suit, a hat and a cane and stroll through a school soccer field on a warm May day. He also had a slight accent–British maybe. Melrose O'Brien glanced over at the man; he didn't appear to be sweating; Melrose was sweating a little even though he was dressed in a light tee-shirt and cargo pants.
Two girls came running down the sideline, one attempting to take the black and white soccer ball away from the other. The girl's foot caught the other girl's, and the other girl went crashing to the turf.
The coach blew his whistle. "Greta, this is only practice," he shouted. "That was unnecessary."
"Sorry coach," Greta said. She extended a hand which the other girl grasped and pulled herself up. The two girls hugged and ran off.
"Young girls are a wonderful sight are they not?" the gentleman said. "Such young slender bodies, blossoming into womanhood. Such tender buds coming into bloom."
The words that the gentleman used rung true with Melrose O'Brien since he was sitting there not as a father of one of the girls on the soccer team, but as a man who lusted after pubescent girls. He had had a predilection for girls in the eleven to fourteen-year-old age bracket for most of his adult life. Thirty-nine years of longing to have sex with a young girl. That act, although possible, was repressed since spending the rest of his life in prison was something Melrose O'Brien wanted to avoid like the plague.
Melrose O'Brien was not an attractive man–in fact, most of the girls he had approached had found him repulsive even. He was labeled a pervert and was shunned by most of society. Melrose O'Brien was intrigued by this stranger who, although more debonair than he could ever be, seemed to have the same love for young girls.
He proffered his hand. "My name's Melrose O'Brien, but most folks call me Mel," he said.
The older gentleman shook his hand. "Samael Prince," he replied. "Nice to make your acquaintance."
Melrose O'Brien decided to push the envelope. He figured that this guy to be rich and perhaps had access to girls he lusted after.
"You like to look at young girls?" Melrose O'Brien said.
"There is nothing more exciting than the sight of a young girl's naked body," he replied. "The feeling of their soft smooth flesh as you run your hands over their naked bodies is divine. Touching their breasts–some large and firm–some small and soft is an unimaginable pleasure, as is running a finger along the tight slits of their pussies."
Now Melrose O'Brien was really getting excited–he was almost drooling. "Me too Samael. I've sat and watched these girls for a while now, and have wondered what it would be like to watch them shower after soccer practice."
"Would you like to see?" Samael asked.
"I don't see how that would be possible," Melrose O'Brien replied.
"Oh, everything is possible Mel," Samael said, "you just have to trust me. You do trust me don't you Mel?"
Melrose O'Brien was almost salivating at the thought of seeing so many naked nubile bodies. His cock was as hard as a baseball bat, but he knew he could not get anywhere near the girl's locker room, let alone in their showers. He looked over the soccer pitch; the coach blew his whistle.
"Okay girls," he shouted, "that's enough for today. Go take a shower and get dressed." The girls all started walking toward the school's athletic wing.
"Well do you Mel?" Samael repeated.
"Yes, yes I do," Melrose O'Brien replied as he watched the girls' buttocks moving sensually inside their loose blue shorts.
"Take my hand and don't let go," Samael said as he stood up.
Samael picked up his walking cane in his right hand; Melrose O'Brien grasped his left–he could hardly believe what he was doing. In the back of his mind he knew it was not possible to go into the girls' locker room, and yet, here he was holding the hand of this strange gentleman who almost had him in a trance.
They walked with the girls as they entered the building and down a hallway. It seemed to Melrose as if no one could see them since no one was looking at them, yet the girls moved around them to avoid bumping into them. Melrose's head was throbbing, and his heart-rate was through the roof. His cock was straining inside his pants in anticipation of what he was about to see.
They were now standing inside the girls' locker room; they watched as the girls sat on the benches and removed their cleats and socks. They stood and quickly removed their soccer shirts and shorts. Melrose O'Brien didn't know where to look as girl after girl removed their underwear. It seemed to him that the school had a dress code since every girl wore a white sports bra and full-cut, cotton panties.
Melrose O'Brien's vision was filled with breasts of all shapes and sizes–some just small bumps–some the size of half-lemons, and a few large and firm. He saw vulvas–some with large bushes of pubic hair–some with sparse tufts–some completely bald depending on the individual girl's stage of development. He was in heaven as he watched the girls shower–rubbing their breasts with soapy hands or between their legs. They were all laughing and talking. He saw a few girls washing each other–their hands washing breasts and pussies, smiling at each other.
He couldn't stand it anymore; he unzipped his fly and fished his cock out and began masturbating as he watched the sea of naked flesh before him. One girl was within a foot of where he was standing, and the fact that no water had touched him was utterly lost on him as he furiously stroked his rod.
A few minutes later, he felt his cock swell and pulse, and a huge rope of pearly-white cum jetted out the end and splashed against the girl standing just a foot away from him. The load of semen hit her left breast and immediately was washed away. Another and another rope hit the girl's breasts and stomach, they ran down her legs and onto the tile floor of the shower. His cum was soon washed away down the central drain.
Melrose O'Brien's legs were weak, and he would have collapsed in a heap on the shower's floor if he wasn't holding Samael's hand. As one by one the girls left the showers and began to dry themselves, Samael and Melrose O'Brien went into the locker room. There they watched the girls get dressed in their school uniforms.
The next thing Melrose O'Brien became aware of, he was sitting on the same bench as before, and Samael was sat beside him. He didn't know if he had imagined what had just taken place or not, but his post orgasmic euphoria and his flaccid penis told him that he had just climaxed.
"Did you enjoy watching the girls shower Mel?" Samael asked.
"Good God yes," Melrose O'Brien replied. He never noticed that Samael flinched at his reply.
"How would you like to spend the night with one of those girls? Explore every inch, every crevice of her young body? Suckle her petite breasts? Tweak those tiny nipples? Taste the juices of her pussy? Penetrate her vagina–take her virginity even?"
Melrose O'Brien now had another raging erection–something that had never happened before so soon after ejaculating. "Yes, yes, yes," he replied. Then he realized that it was an impossibility.
"But that's not possible," he said.
"So was watching the girls shower," Samael replied.
"But why would you help me? What do you want–money? I don't have much."
"I want something more valuable than money–I want your soul?"
Melrose O'Brien laughed. "That's the stuff of stories and movies."
"Very well then," Samael said, "if you think that it's not possible to give away your soul then you've got nothing to lose. If you want to spend a night with one of those girls then just say yes."
Melrose O'Brien laughed again. He thought that the old man was batty, but the idea of fucking a young nubile girl was too much to turn down, so he humored him. He didn't know how the old man was going to persuade a girl of his choosing to spend the night with him–let him fuck her, and he didn't care.
"Yes, I agree," Melrose O'Brien said.
"Very well then," Samael replied, "let's go and see which girl you want. Hold my hand again."
Melrose O'Brien held Samael's hand as they walked through the school hallways. There were so many beautiful girls, it was difficult for him to choose. There were redheads, blondes, brunettes and many shades in between. Tall girls, short girls, thin girls, fat girls, pretty girls, ugly girls. Again, as in the locker room, no one seemed to pay them any heed; it was if they weren't there.
Then he saw her.
She was tall at five foot four, with gentle swells of breasts under her white blouse. She was slender with nice hips that flared out from a slim waist. Her dusty-blonde hair fell in ringlets over her shoulders, and she had the most beautiful cornflower blue eyes he had ever seen. Her lips were crying out for a kiss or to be wrapped around the head of his cock.
"That one," Melrose O'Brien said pointing at the girl.
"Excellent choice," Samael said.
They walked over to where the girl was standing looking at the noticeboard. "Good day my dear," he said to her.
She turned and smiled at him and replied, "Hello."
"What's your name, my dear?" Samael asked.
"Ophelia," she replied.
Melrose O'Brien was trembling with excitement. She looked at him, and smiled warmly–something no girl had ever done. They usually sneered at him, or called him a creep or a perv and walked away.
"And how old are you Ophelia?"
"I just turned fourteen."
"This handsome man here wants you to spend tonight with him at his house. His name's Mel."
Ophelia looked at Melrose O'Brien again. "I'd love to," she said. "Let me talk to my call my Mom and tell here I'm spending the night at a girlfriend's house."
They watched as she hit a speed dial button on her phone. She told her mother that she wouldn't be home and not to worry.
"Okay, can we go now," she said. "I can't wait to get in bed with you Mel. But you have to be gentle with me since I'm a virgin."
Melrose O'Brien was almost salivating. He didn't know what sort of spell Samael had over the girl, and he didn't care. Ophelia held Melrose O'Brien's hand as they walked to his car and got in. He looked around for Samael, but he was nowhere to be found. He drove home; he had to keep his speed below the limit since he didn't want to be stopped by a cop, and explain what a fourteen-year-old girl was doing in his car.
"Where's your bedroom?" Ophelia asked as soon as they got inside his apartment.
"This way," Melrose O'Brien replied.
She followed him to his bedroom where she began undressing. Melrose O'Brien watched as she slowly unbuttoned her white blouse; she removed it; she unzipped her skirt and removed it as well. She was now stood there wearing a white cotton bra and matching full-cut panties. She put her hands behind her back, unhooked her bra, and let it fall off her arms onto the floor.
He gasped loudly as he saw her gorgeous breasts. They were the size of half lemons, and they stood high on her chest, spaced far apart. Her areolas had darkened and stippled with her arousal. Ophelia quickly hooked her thumbs inside the waist of her cotton panties and tugged them over her hips. Gravity took over, and they fell to the floor, where she stepped out of them.
She stood with one hand on her hip as he stared at her full pussy. Her plump labia filled the space at the top of her slender thighs, and her clitoral hood showed in her tight slit. Melrose O'Brien quickly shed his clothes and got onto the bed, where Ophelia immediately began fellating him.
He was moaning loudly as she bobbed her head up and down; her full red lips were around his dickhead, sucking it while rubbing the shaft with her right hand–her left hand was between her legs furiously rubbing her clit.
"C'mon Mel, get on top of me and take my cherry," Ophelia said.
Melrose O'Brien needed no more urging. He got between her slender thighs and swiped his cockhead up and down her very wet slit half a dozen times. The bulbous, purple-rimmed head of his cock pushed aside her red engorged labia revealing her small inner lips and the dark opening to her vagina.
"Let me," she said. He let go of his cock as she grasped its shaft and guided it to the entrance to her vagina. She pushed in. He felt the tight ring of her entrance resist. Undeterred, she pushed harder. She cried out as his cock penetrated her. There was no blood as her hymen had long since melted away from vigorous exercise. But she was very tight–her vagina gripped his cock in a tight velvet vise. Melrose O'Brien could hardly believe he had just done something he had dreamed of for most of his adult life–took the virginity of a young girl.
"C'mon Mel, fuck me," she said.
With her firm buttocks in his hands, he began to fuck Ophelia, his fourteen-year-old goddess. As he stroked in and out of her, she adjusted to having an adult cock inside her pussy for the first time in her young life. After a few minutes, Melrose O'Brien was easily stroking into her, bumping her end.
Ophelia was moaning; she was snorting as she quickly inhaled when he bumped her cervix. MelroseO'Brien was getting close to his orgasm, and he didn't care if Ophelia didn't climax since he put his pleasure ahead of hers. He felt his cock swell as he pumped her vagina full of his teeming fluid.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he cried as he spurted his cum into her. He had never spurted as much cum before as he was doing at this moment. Then he felt a bizarre sensation. It was if he was being held; he couldn't move his arms. He was bent over a low cinderblock wall–the hard edge dug into his stomach, and he could hear water running. He looked to each side; a thin white guy held his right wrist and a short black man held his left wrist. Both men were naked. He turned his head, and saw a large black man looming over him sporting a huge erection. It must be all of eight inches, Melrose O'Brien thought.
"So this is Melrose O'Brien." The deep voice came from the mouth of the large black man standing behind him; his cock was as big around as a baseball bat. "This is the piece of shit who kidnapped and raped that girl–what was her name, Charlie?"
"It was Ophelia, Bubba. Ophelia Watson," the thin white guy who was holding him down said.
"Well Mr. Melrose O'Brien, let's see if you like being raped," Bubba said. "Gimme the soap, Leroy."
Melrose O'Brien felt large hands part his buttocks. "No please don't do it," he cried, begged, pleaded.
He looked up and saw Samael Prince. He was not dressed in a three-piece suit with a trilby on his head or a walking cane and cream-colored gloves in his hand. He was dressed in prison clothes. Melrose O'Brien wondered why Samael wasn't getting wet even though he was standing in the showers.
"Help me Samael," Melrose cried. "Where am I, what's happening?"
"You're in hell on earth Mel. Don't you remember? You sold your soul for a night with Ophelia?"
"But I didn't kidnap or rape her."
"Do you really think an ugly pervert like you could get a fourteen-year-old beauty like Ophelia to go home with you and agree to have sex with you?"
"You tricked me Samael," Melrose O'Brien said.
"Welcome to my world," Samael Prince replied with a laugh that sent shivers down Melrose O'Brien's spine.
Melrose O'Brien screamed as a huge cock rammed into his ass.
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Love On The Orient Express
Mf 16, incest, 1st, father/daughter, con, oral, romantic.
A man takes his daughter on the Orient-Express as a sixteenth birthday present. Their suite only has one bed, and it changes their relationship irrevocably.
Word Count: 5,073
Date Published: August 3 2018
My daughter Sally and I were on a trip of a lifetime. I had booked our tickets on the London to Venice Simplon Orient-Express. It was my sixteenth birthday present to my daughter—sort of a coming-of-age present if you will. Ever since her mother, my wife, died when she was seven, we had grown close—close as a father and daughter could be. We went to the movies together; I was her date at her junior high school prom even though I begged her to ask a boy.
She had never dated anyone—said I was enough for her. I told her that it was a little unhealthy for her to think of her father as her date, but she brushed it off. I had to admit that I got some very jealous looks from guys as they saw my daughter with her arm hooked in mine walking into the movie theater, or in the mall, or into a restaurant.
Sally was a beautiful sixteen-year-old, tall at five-six, willowy with long slim legs. Her natural blonde hair reached to mid-back if she left it loose, otherwise it was held in a loose ponytail at the nape of her neck with a Scrunchie. This last eighteen months had seen her develop into a young woman with hips that flared out from a slim waist—a classic hourglass figure albeit a still developing one.
The last twelve months had seen her breast grow from an A-cup to a full B-cup. Of course, she insisted that I accompany her on her forays into Victoria's Secret for underwear much to my discomfort. Sally had avoided the bane of all teenagers—acne; she had a perfect complexion, and her face was classic Northern European. She took after her mother who was Swedish, with high cheekbones, straight nose, and full lips. She was all-in-all the complete package, and someday she was going to make some guy a very happy husband.
She could hardly contain her enthusiasm as we boarded the train in London just before ten o'clock in the morning. I had booked a suite with its own bathroom and sitting area. A porter took our luggage, and we followed him down the corridor. He slid open the door to our suite, and we stepped inside behind him inside. He opened the door to the bedroom and placed our suitcases on two folding frames. I looked inside and saw the queen-size bed. Puzzled, I asked him where the other bedroom was.
"There is only one bedroom sir," he replied. Only our adjoining cabins have separate sleeping spaces."
"But there must be some mistake," I said.
"No sir," the porter replied, "we only have two suites on this train, and your tickets show that you have this one."
Sally tugged at my arm. "It's okay Dad," she said, "it'll be alright."
I sighed. "Okay honey." I tipped the porter, and he left.
Sally jumped on the bed and rolled to the window side and said, "This is my half Dad."
We quickly unpacked, and as the train started to pull out of Victoria station, we walked down to the lounge car and took a seat next to the window.
"This is going to be so much fun," Sally said. "How long will it take to get to Venice?"
I was deep in thought. I didn't know how I was going to react sleeping in the same bed as my daughter. At home, she seemed oblivious to the fact that I was a man as well as her father. She would often walk around the house in just her underwear, or if she'd just taken a bath or a shower she would have a towel wrapped around her, and she didn't seem to be aware that when she sat down, I could see all the way to the top of her slender thighs.
Since she entered puberty at the age of eleven, I was acutely aware that she was all feminine. She started to get more curvaceous and fill out in all the right places. As she began to grow breasts and her bum got more rounded, it was getting tough for me to separate Sally the daughter from Sally the young woman. I would never act on my desire for her in a million years, but I desired her nonetheless.
"Daaad," she said, snapping me out of my thoughts.
"Sorry honey, what did you say?"
"I asked how long it would take to get to Venice?"
"Around thirty hours," I replied. "We arrive in Venice tomorrow evening around six o'clock."
"Okay," she replied and went back reading her teen magazine.
I looked at her dressed in her sky-blue camisole that came to her midriff, and her white cotton shorts. She had her long slender legs folded under her on the seat. One of the straps of her white bra had dropped off her shoulder. She subconsciously put it back in place only to have it slip off again a few minutes later.
The mid-morning sun caught her from behind making her blonde hair even lighter. She was stunningly beautiful, and I sometimes have to pinch myself to remind me she's my daughter. But if I was honest with myself, she had inherited most of her genes from her mother—it was only her cornflower blue eyes that told the world she was my daughter.
She caught me staring at her. "What?" she asked.
"I was just thinking what an incredibly lucky man I am to have such a stunningly beautiful daughter."
She blushed a tad. "Aw thanks, Dad," she replied. "I'm the lucky one to have such a wonderful and very sexy father."
Sexy! She thinks I'm sexy? My own daughter thinks I'm sexy. Wow, how about that, I thought. We ate lunch of smoked salmon in the dining car. Sally insisted on having an ice cream sundae for dessert.
All through lunch, she played footsie with me—something she loved to do at home. I remember the time when she was around twelve. She had just taken a shower, and she came downstairs wearing a bath towel around her torso and a hand towel wrapped around her head, turban style. She plopped down in the high-backed swivel stool at the kitchen island. I was reading the Sunday paper when she decided she wanted to move my stool. She put one foot on the back and started to rotate it. What she didn't realize was that as she moved her foot, the bath towel gaped and I got a good view of my daughter's pussy. I was surprised that she had any pubic hair. But there it was—her mons had a smattering of blonde curly hairs that stopped short of her tight slit with its indentation at the top where her clitoris was located.
She had a devilish grin on her face, and her cornflower blue eyes twinkled at me. I played along with her little game of annoyance. I acted miffed as she kept rotating my stool and I rotated it back. I could see her pussy flashing its very sensual smile at me every time she moved her leg. I had a sneaking suspicion that she knew I could see her pussy, and that made my cock even harder.
"Sally, I'm trying to read the paper here," I said at length. "Stop with the stool thing will you."
Sally got off her stool, put her arms around my neck and kissed me. I had received countless kisses from her in the past, but this was the first time she ever kissed me on my lips. It was the most wonderful kiss I had ever received; her lips were soft, and rather than just grazing my lips she pressed—not hard by any means but enough to let me know she wanted to kiss like an adult.
She let go of my neck and walked out of the kitchen. As she did so, the towel around her midriff came loose; she grabbed it before it fell to the floor but didn't attempt to put it back on. As she walked in a somewhat exaggerated gait, the twin orbs of her exquisite bum moved in counterpoint. My cock was straining for not only physical relief from its constraints but sexual relief as well. A quick visit to the powder room satisfied both needs.
Dropped bath towels became a sort of habit–not every time though–maybe every other month or so. I guess it was whenever the feeling came over her and I didn't do anything to dissuade her–just let her believe I thought it an accident.
I remember the first time I saw her breasts. It was another Sunday morning, and I was sitting on one of the high-backed stools reading the funnies section of the newspaper. Sally was standing sipping a glass of grapefruit juice when she decided she didn't like the way her bath towel was knotted. She put her glass down on the granite counter such that the noise garnered my attention. She undid the knot, quickly unwrapped the towel and wrapped herself back up but not before I got a good look at her breasts.
I had to stifle back a gasp as I saw them; they were the size of golfballs, sitting high on her chest with slightly darker pink than her skin with small beaded nipples. As she moved her body to rewrap the towel, they moved slightly. Then they were gone–hidden under the thick terry cotton. She never looked at me the whole time. I guess she didn't want me to think it was a blatant act for me to see her breasts.
"Dad," she said, reaching across the dining room table jostling my arm, "You're deep in thought today."
I turned from looking out at the French countryside moving steadily past the carriage's window as we sped by to Sally's smiling face.
"Just looking out and enjoying the scenery. Can't wait to get to Venice, our first time there."
"I'm looking forward to it as well," she said.
We finished dinner, left the dining car and went to the Champagne bar where I enjoyed an after dinner drink. I let Sally have a small glass of Champagne, which she enjoyed so much she asked for another glass. I got the waitress to pour just half a glass. She wrinkled her nose at me–something she always did if she was mildly unhappy with me. I thought it so cute.
Back in our suite, I went to the bathroom, showered, and changed into a pair of pajama bottoms. When I returned to the salon, Sally had already got undressed. She was wearing pajamas and lying on her back on the window side of the bed; they were made out a silk-like material; I remembered buying them for her at Abercrombie and Fitch. They were a light blue with dark blue piping; the top buttoned down the front and the bottoms were a pair of shorts.
The fact that I could see the swells of her breasts standing up from her chest, and her hard bead-like nipples poking at the top didn't help my southern situation. Trying to hide an erection inside a pair of cotton pajama bottoms is like trying to conceal a three C-cell Mag-Lite in your pant pocket–an impossibility.
Sally, to her credit, wasn't staring at the noticeable bulge in my pajamas but was still snatching glances at it as I got into bed. Thankful at last that the covers hid my erection I started to relax.
"I just thought of something Sally."
"What's that Dad?"
"You're the first female I've shared a bed with since Catherine died."
"I begged you to start dating Dad, but you wouldn't hear of it?"
"I had you to raise, didn't have time for the dating scene."
"I was old enough to look after myself when I turned eleven. You could have tried to meet someone then."
The fact of the matter was, Sally was the only female I wanted in my life. She was so precious to me, and I loved her so very, very much, that the thought of having sex with another female hardly crossed my mind.
"You were all I needed Sally. All I ever needed."
Sally rolled to her side and put her leg over mine, and snuggled into my shoulder. She played with the sparse hair around my nipple.
"You're so sweet, Dad. I couldn't have asked for a better father."
We lay there, with my arm around her and her head on my shoulder, enjoying each other's company.
"Dad, can I ask you a question?" Sally said after a few minutes had gone by.
"Sure you can honey," I replied. From the very start, Catherine and I had been completely honest with Sally, answering all of her questions, and a young girl can be one curious female.
"What's it like to get a blowjob. I know Mom used to give you ones because she told me."
For a brief moment, I was stunned that Sally would ask such a question. Then I remembered my promise, to be honest.
"It's an incredible feeling. Not as good as intercourse but the next best thing. Why do you want to know?"
She thought for a few moments; her brow knitted—a sure sign that her mind was working overtime and finally said, "Would you let me do it?"
I hesitated as the image of my daughter's lips around the shaft of my cock sprang to mind. I'm sure Sally noticed my slight hesitation.
"Heavens no Sally. Apart from it being highly illegal, it's just not the right thing for a father and daughter to do."
"It's legal cuz I'm sixteen now."
"Sex between a father and daughter is incest, and incest at any age is illegal."
"Well it's a silly law," she said.
"It's the law nonetheless."
"You and Mom were in love, and when two people are in love, they do things with each other to make them happy and give them pleasure. Mom told me that she loved doing it."
"But a father's and daughter's love is different to that of a married couple."
"It normally is Dad. The reason I don't date is that I don't just love you, I'm in love with you, and there's a difference."
I said nothing since I had nothing to say.
"I've seen the way you look at me. You think the dropped towels were accidents. I wanted you to see me naked. I would guess you have an erection right now. I saw the outline of your cock in your pajamas before you got into bed."
"I must admit Sally, that you are a very, very sexy and desirable young woman, and I'd be a liar if the thought of having sex with you never entered my mind. But I daren't cross that line—there's too much at stake. You might start to hate me."
"I could never hate you Dad, not in a million years. Please, will you let me? I know what to do, I've seen it on the Internet."
Sally didn't wait for my answer. She kicked the covers down and found the opening to my pajamas. Before I could stop her—and I didn't know if I even wanted to—she had found my cock, and started to squeeze it. I moaned with pleasure as I felt my daughter's hand stroke my cock.
"No, Sally you shouldn't," I said with hardly a smidgen of conviction.
She let go of it, and unbuttoned my pajamas and began to tug them down. I lifted my bum off the bed, and she pushed them all the way down. I finally kicked them off. I watched as my sixteen-year-old daughter grasped the shaft of my cock, and lowered her mouth over its bulbous head. With her lips clamped around the shaft, she began to suck as she stroked the shaft with one hand while cradling my balls in her other.
Sally must have spent hours on the internet watching women fellate men since she was pretty darn good for, what I assumed was, her first time. Not as good as her mother had been, but there again Catherine had been giving me blowjobs ever since we started dating. Sally took her mouth off my cock with an audible 'plop.'
"Am I doing it right Dad?" she asked with all sincerity.
"Almost as good as your mother," I told her.
"I want to be as good as Mom was," she said. "I want to make you feel like Mom made you feel."
She went back to sucking my cock and stroking its shaft. Every minute or so, she would pull her mouth off and use the broad pad of her tongue to lick all the way from the root of my cock to its head where she would swirl her tongue around the end. I was lost in the sensation of her mouth over my cockhead. Her cheeks indented as she sucked. For a brief moment, I saw my wife's golden locks covering my crotch until Sally pulled them back behind her ear. She looked at me and smiled with her cornflower-blue eyes.
I needed to tell her that I was close to ejaculating. Catherine loved to taste and swallow my cum, but it would be unfair to Sally to just cum in her mouth without prior warning. I needed to give her the options.
"Dad's close to cumming baby," I said.
She looked at me, and pulled her mouth off my cock and said, "Mom told me that you used to cum in her mouth and she loved its taste as she swallowed it. I want to taste your cum as well."
"Make sure you breathe through your nose then," I told her.
I groaned as she went back to giving me an exquisite blow job. It wasn't even another minute until I climaxed. She reacted with a small jerk as the first rope of my cum hit the back of her throat, but she had remembered to breathe through her nose, so it didn't make her choke and cough. Instead, she swallowed as the next rope spurted in her mouth.
Finally, I was done. Sally took her head off my cock, licked her lips, and smiled. "Was it good?" she asked.
I waited until my breathing calmed. "More than good honey," I replied.
She gave a big sigh of relief. "You shot a lot of cum," she said. "I didn't expect that, but breathing through my nose was a good suggestion."
I lay there with my cock slowly softening. I had crossed that line, and there was no going back now.
"You okay Sally?"
"I'm fine Dad," she replied. "You worry too much. I'm sixteen years old; I'm old enough to know what I want."
"I know what I want," I said. "I want you naked."
Sally wasted no time. The top was unbuttoned in record time and was thrown on the floor. Her shorts quickly followed. She got back into bed and lay on her back. She was now nervous as a cat on a hot tin roof, witnessed by her rapid breathing.
"My God Sally," I said, "you've got an amazing body."
And she did have an amazing body. Her breasts stood up, firm full, the size of half oranges; they were definitely a nice handful. Her areolas were the size of quarters and had darkened and stippled. Her nipples were hard and like small cupcakes—larger at the top. There was a reddish tinge across the top of her chest and her neck—a sure sign of her arousal. My gaze went lower, across her flat tummy to her mons, rising up like a small hillock in the valley between two bony hips.
The hair I had seen when she was playing footsie with my stool at the kitchen island, was a little denser but stopped short of her cleft. Her labia, plump, flushed, engorged with blood were bare and smooth. They filled the gap at the top of her long slender legs—the ridge of her clitoral hood and her thin inner labia were exposed.
I leaned in, cupped her left breast, and began sucking on her right nipple; it was as hard as a bead. She put her hand on my head and ran her fingers through my hair.
"I've wanted you to do this ever since I was eleven years old, Dad."
"And I've wanted to do this ever since you were eleven years old," I replied.
I lifted my head and kissed her lips. Her mouth opened and her tongue pushed between my lips, into my mouth. We kissed passionately for a good minute. I slipped my hand off her breasts, across her flat—almost concave tummy, and as my fingers touched her clitoral hood, she shuddered and kissed me harder.
She opened her legs, and I took her invitation and cupped her gorgeous plump pussy. My middle finger pressed into her cleft, oozing aside her labia and as it entered the wet opening to her vagina, she climaxed.
"Oh God Dad," she cried.
She put her arms around my neck and pulled my body tight against hers. I could feel her heart beating in her chest and her whole body shaking and jerking as her orgasm consumed her. My hand was clamped tight between slender thighs, with the tip of my finger being squeezed by her vaginal muscles.
After a good minute, she began to come down from her orgasmic high; her breathing slowed, and she slackened her grip on with her arms and her thighs. Finally, she opened her eyes and looked at me with tremendous love in her cornflower-blue eyes. Then she started crying. I held her to my chest as she shed tears of joy—tears of love.
She lifted her head off my chest and wiped her eyes with the heel of her hand. "Thank you, Dad," she said. "You don't know how many times I've laid in bed, masturbating imagining it was your finger inside my pussy."
I kissed her salty lips. "I love you so very, very much Sally."
"I love you too Dad. This is going to be the best holiday ever."
I shuffled down the bed, between her legs, and began to lap at her pussy. She was very wet, and the taste of her juices was like nectar–sweet yet a little tangy with a hint of floral soap and her sweat. She gasped as I inserted two fingers into her vagina, gauging her size. I wanted so much to take her virginity, but I didn't want it at the expense of hurting her. I could feel her vaginal muscles squeezing down on my two fingers. A third finger told me what I needed to know—she would stretch enough to accept my cock inside her.
Leaving my three fingers inside her, I turned my attention to her clitoris. Her orgasm had caused her nubbin to come out to play, so play with it I did. I sucked and licked it, and it almost doubled in size. Sally took after her mother, who also had a large clitoris once she was aroused, and Sally was aroused alright.
Sally was chasing her second orgasm. Her brow was knitted as she concentrated; her eyes were shut tight, and I could feel her bum jerk occasionally. Her vaginal muscles were pulsing, and small jerks of her legs telegraphed her impending orgasm. I wasn't disappointed as she let out a long guttural moan.
"Oh my God Dad," she cried as her orgasm crashed into her. She snapped her legs closed around my head, and her vagina squeezed my three fingers. Her whole body shook and jerked in the bed, and her head rolled from side to side on the pillow. This went on for a good ninety seconds, then her orgasm ebbed, and her whole body relaxed. She released my head, and I withdrew my fingers and lay beside her.
Sally put one leg over mine, pressing her wet pussy into my thigh, turned and snuggled up to me. Her hand drifted down and grasped my now erect cock.
"You're hard again Dad," she said—surprised.
"That's the result of making love to one very beautiful and desirable young woman," I said.
"Are we going . . . you know . . . to do it tonight?" she asked.
"Try and stop me," I replied.
That elicited a fit of giggles. She was still giggling, her breasts jiggling in unison, as I sat on my heels between her legs. The giggling stopped as I swiped the head of my cock up and down her cleft, pushing aside her labia, red and engorged. She was looking into my eyes and biting the knuckle of her left forefinger as I rested my cockhead against the opening of her vagina.
"Relax Sally," I said.
I saw the tension and apprehension fall away as I pushed a little; I felt the tight ring of skin start to dilate. All of a sudden, and with a slight whimper, my cockhead slipped inside. I didn't move, letting her body adjust to having something so large inside her vagina for the first time.
"Wow Dad!" she said. "You feel so big. It feels like I'm stuffed but in a nice way. I thought it would hurt more than it did."
I slowly began pushing inside her; inch by inch my cock moved inside her very wet, very tight vagina. It was something I'd never experienced before—penetrating a virgin—a sixteen-year-old virgin at that. My wife was in her mid-twenties when we met, and she'd had several boyfriends before I came along.
After a minute I bumped her cervix, she had taken all of my six and a half inches inside her.
"I felt that," she said. "Are you all the way inside me Dad?"
"Yes honey, all the way. You're officially a woman now; you're no longer a virgin."
She beamed, her cornflower-blue eyes twinkled as she said, "I've dreamed of this for a long time, and now it's come true. My Dad took my virginity."
I pulled back almost out of her the slowly plunged back in. After a few strokes like that, she had adjusted to my girth and was actively humping me—curling her pussy up to meet my thrusts. She had her long slender legs around my waist with her ankles locked at the small of my back.
We made love to each other for the next twenty minutes, during which she had two more small orgasms. I had been close to my climax on several occasions and had stopped to allow my ardor to die down.
"What's the matter Dad?" she asked. "Why have you stopped?"
"Because I don't want to cum too soon," I replied. "I want this to last forever, but I know I can't hold it back too much longer."
"I do too Dad. This feels so good. The silly law that says it's illegal didn't account for how right it feels."
I began thrusting again, and within a minute I climaxed.
"Oh baby, oh Sally," I cried as I spurted hard inside her. I had ejaculated a lot of cum in her mouth a short while ago, and now I was ejaculating almost as much inside her pussy. My head was bursting, and I saw stars on the back of my eyelids as I spurted my teeming fluid inside my sixteen-year-old daughter's womb. I was thankful her OB-GYN had put Sally on the pill when she started her periods. It helped make them less uncomfortable and more regular.
I was soon finished, and my cock quickly softened and went flaccid. It slipped out as I rolled to her side; I was glad I thought of putting a towel underneath her as we didn't want to sleep in a messy bed—not that I thought we would get much sleep tonight.
"So that's what Mom felt when you came inside her," Sally said at length. "I felt every spurt; it was a really weird feeling but nice to know that I could satisfy you and make you cum."
"You satisfy me in many, many ways, Sally. You are a loving daughter, a very intelligent young woman, and now my beautiful lover."
She smiled and said, "You're right. I'm your lover. I hadn't thought of that. Wow! I'm my Dad's lover."
She got out of bed cupping her pussy and sort of waddled to the bathroom. I had to chuckle.
"Stop laughing," she shouted from the bathroom. "You have all the fun and leave me to clean up your mess."
"It's our mess," I corrected.
"I guess you're right," she replied as she pulled on her underpants and got back into bed.
I put my arm around her, and she snuggled up to my chest. A few moments later she was snoring lightly. She woke me a few more times in the night to have sex. Fortunately, I didn't spurt a whole lot, and by morning she declared that no sex for a few days as she was sore. I breathed a sigh of relief.
We arrived in Venice a few minutes early the next day at the Santa Lucia station. I hailed a cab and within twenty minutes were deposited at the Baglioni Hotel Luna, a five-star luxury hotel. The next few days were interesting as all Sally wanted to do, was see the sights as long as it didn't involve too much walking. The third day saw her wanting sex again, and for the next week, we made love every night.
Back home in St, John's Wood, it was evident to both Sally and I that we couldn't continue being lovers as my friends knew she was my daughter. We decided to sell up, and leave England and move to the South of France. We purchased a villa near the town of Toulouse where we lived as man and wife. When Sally turned twenty, she had our baby, a healthy six pound-three ounce girl who we named Victoria Lucia.
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The Mysterious Sisters
Mf 14, Mg 12, 1st, ped, con, oral, ws (mild).
Jonathan Gates achieves his lifelong dream to live on the lake. Two sisters provide an aging man with his last sexual experience.
Word Count: 5,638
Date Published: August 19 2018
Jonathan Gates, Jon to his younger sister Allison and his rapidly depleting circle of elderly friends, moved into a house on Lake Norman. Although it was over twenty-five hundred square feet, it was considered small by the McMansions that surrounded the small cove on the northern end of the lake. He had sold his large home in Charlotte after Mary, his wife of fifty years, had died six months ago. It had been his lifelong dream to live on the lake—something his late wife hated which is why they had never purchased a second home on the lake despite Jonathan's pleas.
Despising packing moving and unpacking, he had hired a company to do everything. All he had to do was stand back and tell the team of six men where everything went. It was five o'clock on a warm, sunny July afternoon when the last of the stemware was removed from its protective bubble wrap and placed on the glass shelf in the glass-fronted wall cabinet.
"That's the last glass, Mr. Gates," the foreman said.
"Thanks, Bernie. You did a great job with nary a chipped plate."
"We like to think we do good work, Mr. Gates."
Jonathan handed the foreman an envelope with six crisp brand-new one hundred dollar bills inside.
The foreman looked inside and said, "Thank you, that's very generous of you, Mr. Gates."
With that, the foreman and his crew of five left. Jonathan looked 'round his kitchen with its granite work surfaces, the Wolf six burner gas cooktop, the double wall ovens, and the large Sub-Zero combination fridge-freezer. He took a highball glass out of the same glass-fronted cabinet where the foreman had placed the last of the stemware, stuck it under the recessed ice/water dispenser in the refrigerator's door, and briefly stabbed the membrane button labeled ICE. A couple of chunks of ice, the shape of a thick half-slices of lemon, dropped from the chute into the glass with a tinkle.
A few minutes later, having poured three fingers of Jim Beam Black label into the glass now being chilled by the ice, he carried it outside onto the large, covered wrap-around porch that overlooked the lake and sat down on an Adirondack chair. He took a sip of the fifteen-year-old bourbon and sighed.
"It took fifty years to finally get my house on the lake," he said to himself. Talking to himself had been something he'd been doing lately.
He sat admiring the view. His house was at the end of the small cove, and he had a view out to the main body of water. Even though the cove had a multi-million dollar house on each side of his, his had the million-dollar view. Why someone hadn't snapped up his two-acre lot with its two-hundred-foot waterfront, razed the house and built two McMansions, he would never know. But as luck would have it, the house belonged to Joseph Cartwright, an old client and trusted friend, and he'd visited it many times.
When Jonathan heard that his old friend was moving to an assisted living facility, he immediately contacted him and asked if he was selling the house, to which he replied he had already put it in the hands of a local real estate brokerage. Jonathan contacted the agent and immediately put in a full-priced offer. The agent begged Joseph Cartwright not to accept the offer but to wait for more substantial above-asking offers that she knew would be coming. He refused since he knew how much is old friend wanted to live on the lake.
"You're going to really enjoy living there," Joseph Cartwright had told him with a strange twinkle in his eye.
As Jonathan sat enjoying the late afternoon sun, he saw a young girl come out of the house to his left and walk down to the dock. She was some fifty feet away, but with his still 20/20 eyesight, he could see that she was quite beautiful. She saw him and waved. He waved back. She ran around the shoreline and approached his porch.
She wasn't just beautiful—she was stunning with raven-black hair and the most gorgeous pale-blue eyes he had ever seen. He figured she was eleven—maybe twelve years old, around five-one—perhaps five-two, slim with long slender legs. She wore a simple flowery summer dress with a tightish bodice that buttoned down the front; the bodice emphasized her small breasts. She wore pink Keds sneakers, no socks.
The girl stopped at the foot of the steps leading up to the deck, and said, "Hi, I'm Mara. What's your name?"
"I'm Jonathan, but most folks call me Jon. Why don't you come up on my porch where I can properly introduce myself."
Mara walked up the three wide steps and stood next to where Jonathan was sat. She proffered her hand. He took it, and while looking directly into her pale-blue eyes kissed each knuckle in turn.
"Very nice to meet you, Mara. What a pretty name for a more than a pretty young lady. Why don't you sit down on the porch swing."
She gave him a shy smile. "Thank you, Jon," she said as she climbed onto the swing that was opposite where he sat. Jonathan caught a glimpse of Mara's white panties that caused his cock to twitch.
"Did you just move in?" Mara asked.
"Yes, I did, honey."
"We liked the gentleman who lived here before," Mara said.
"We?" Jonathan replied.
"Yes, I have an older sister. Mallory, who's fourteen."
"And how old are you Mara?"
"I'm twelve—I'll soon be a teenager."
Mara was moving back and forth a little. As she did so, the loose skirt of her dress got hitched up, and Jonathan was treated to the most sensual sight of Mara's plump vulva coddled in the crotch of her cotton panties squeezed between her slim thighs.
And she made no attempt at pulling the hem of her dress back down—in fact, Jonathan thought she was deliberately letting him see her panties since she parted her legs a little exposing a one-inch wide strip of white fabric. Jonathan now had a raging erection, the bulge of which was thankfully hidden from view by the relaxed nature of his shorts.
For some reason, the twinkling in Joseph Cartwright's eye as he told him, "You're going to really enjoy living there," sprang into his memory.
"So tell me about the gentleman who lived here before," Jonathan said, eager to find out what his old friend meant.
"He was a very nice man, and he treated me and my sister like princesses," Mara replied.
"Can I ask you why you visited with him?"
"I liked to talk to him. He led an exciting life, and he used to tell me stories of the things he'd done. I think some of the stories were just that—stories, but it was fun to listen to them."
Then she said something that caused his cock to twitch and his heart rate to increase. "He had a long penis."
Jonathan could swear that she had opened her legs a little wider since he could now see a distinctive white triangle.
"That's the last thing I expected you to say about him. I thought you would say that he gave you candy, or let you play in his swimming pool. Did he expose himself to you?"
"Uh-huh. I had been coming over to sit and talk with him for a whole week. He always sat in that chair you're sitting in and always wore the same kind of clothes—a cotton vee-neck sweater and a pair of pajama bottoms. He had just been telling me about a married woman in Paris that he had an affair with when he suddenly stood up and dropped his pajama bottoms.
"He was funny really, I think he really thought I'd be shocked and scream and run back home. But I just sat there looking at his long penis sticking out from a bush of gray hair. I looked at him and smiled and told him he had a nice cock. It was really long but not very fat. It reminded me of the metal tubes the cigars come in that my father smokes."
Jonathan was getting excited at the blatantly sexual conversation he was having with Mara. He also noticed from their discussion that she seemed older than her stated twelve—soon to be a teenager.
"What did he do next?"
"He just stood there holding his penis in his hand."
"And what did you do?"
Jonathan almost fell out of his chair when she told him what she did.
"I gave him a blowjob of course."
"You . . . you . . . you did what?" Jonathan said incredulously.
"Don't tell me you've never had a girl give you a blowjob before."
"I have, but not from a twelve-year-old girl."
"You want me to suck your cock, Jon?"
Jonathan looked around to see if anyone was in earshot. "I don't think so since I don't want to go to prison."
"I won't tell anyone. I promise."
"Mara, you're a very sweet girl, but you shouldn't offer to perform oral sex on a man you've only just met—in fact, you shouldn't be offering to do that period. You're way too young for sex."
"You're no fun Jon, but I'll leave you something to remind you of me and maybe next time I come over you'll have changed your mind. I've been told I give very good blowjobs you know and I swallow as well."
With that, Mara smiled, stood up and hoisted the hem of her dress up and held it under her chin. She put her thumbs inside the elasticated waistband of her white, cotton, bikini-cut panties and tugged them over her hips. She let them drop to her ankles and stepped out of them. Mara stood there for a few moments while Jonathan looked at her hairless pussy. Her plump labia was squashed between her slim thighs; the tight slit with an indentation at the top merged with the crack of her ass.
Then Mara raised her chin, releasing the hem. It fell and covered her pussy. She bent over, picked up her panties and handed them to him and said, "See you tomorrow."
She bounded down the steps and ran back to her house. She turned and waved before going inside. Jonathan sniffed the gusset of her panties. He inhaled the distinctive aroma of Mara's sex. He sat there for a good half hour going over what had just transpired. It seemed too good to be true. He wondered if she made the story up, or was it what his old friend referred to when he said, 'You're going to really enjoy living there.'
The next afternoon at four forty-five, Jonathan was sat in the same chair when he saw Mara come out of her house, wave at him and came running over. This time she said "Hi," gave him a quick kiss on his lips, and sat on the swing. Today Mara was wearing lime-green panties. Jonathan hoped he could add them to the pair of white ones and start a collection.
"Well?" Mara asked.
"Well, what?" Jonathan replied.
"Have you thought about my offer to give you a blowjob?"
"To be honest, Mara, I've thought of nothing else. It's not every day that a sixty-nine-year-old man receives an offer of oral sex from a twelve-year-old girl. If you promise not to tell anyone, then yes—I'll love for you to give me a blowjob."
Mara wasted no time. She jumped off the swing, threw one of its cushions on the wooden floor in front of Jonathan, and knelt. He quickly looked around, and seeing no one unzipped his shorts, lifted his butt and tugged both the shorts and his underwear down to his ankles.
"You've got a nice-looking cock Jon," she said. "It's much nicer than Joe's. It's fatter too."
With those few words, Mara grasped the shaft of his cock and lowered her mouth over the end. The twelve-year-old, raven-haired beauty proceeded to give Jonathan a blowjob the likes of which he had never experienced before, and he'd had quite a few in his sixty-nine years. Her full lips clamped around the shaft of his penis while she sucked and swirled her tongue around its bulbous, helmet-shaped head. Never once did her teeth rake his sensitive frenulum. Her grip on his shaft with a finger and thumb provided the perfect amount of pressure as she moved them up and down.
Mara continued with her ministrations to Jonathan's penis, while fixing his gaze with her gorgeous pale-blue eyes that reminded him of the two-carat Aquamarine stone in his late wife's engagement ring. He could feel the rising of his impending orgasm; it started in his bowels and slowly permitted his whole groin area.
The knowledge that Mara was going to allow him to ejaculate into her mouth and swallow his teeming fluid excited him even more. In his view, cumming in a woman's mouth and watching her swallow his cum was only bettered by intercourse itself. He felt his ballsack tighten—the sure sign his climax was imminent—and Mara felt it too since her other hand was fondling it. She also felt his cock swell followed by the first spurt of his creamy liquid that hit the back of her throat.
"Oh good God almighty Mara," Jonathan cried as he climaxed.
Mara kept stroking his shaft and sucking his cockhead as Jonathan emptied the contents of his gonads into her mouth. He was done too quickly, and he found as he got older he produced less semen, but for some reason unbeknown to him, he had filled Mara's mouth with an unusually large amount. Her cheeks bulged and it too three hard swallows before her mouth was empty.
"That was a lot Jon," she remarked as she wiped the small amount of semen off her lips with the back of her hand.
"I don't know what you did, Mara, but I've not shot that much since I was a teenager."
Mara just smiled. She got up, picked the cushion up and put it back on the swing. She then pulled the hem of her flowery skirt up, tucked it under her chin and tugged her lime-green panties down and off. She picked them up and handed them to Jonathan.
"A souvenir," she said.
With that, she ran down the steps and around the lake's edge and disappeared into her house—no wave this time. Jonathan stood up unsteadily, pulled his underwear and shorts up and collapsed back into the Adirondack chair, where he sat for half an hour regaining his strength, and enjoying the post-orgasmic bliss.
There was no sign of Mara for three days, and in a way, Jonathan was somewhat thankful since he wasn't sure he could survive another of her blowjobs so soon. It was Friday afternoon around four-fifteen when he saw Mara and an older girl come out of their house and walk over to where he was sitting in his usual chair watching the loons diving into the lake. As the two girls approached, Jonathan could see that the older girl had the very same raven-black hair and Aquamarine eyes as Mara. She was a good three inches taller than Mara at five foot five. She was dressed in a pale-blue camisole top trimmed with white lace, and a short flared skirt. It was obvious she wore no bra since there were no visible straps and the bumps of her nipples pushed against the cotton of her top. They walked up the steps onto the porch. Jonathan stood to greet them.
Mara ignored his outstretched hand and hugged him instead. At first, Jonathan didn't quite know what to do with the unexpected display of affection, but then hugged her back.
"This is my sister Mallory," Mara said.
Jonathan proffered his hand and said, "It's good to meet you, Mallory, I'm Jon."
Mallory shook his hand. "The pleasure's all mine," she replied.
"Please, both of you sit down. Can I get you a soft drink?"
"Sprites please," they both chorused. Jonathan disappeared into the house, and when he reappeared with two bottles of Sprites and a fresh cold beer, the two sisters were whispering to each other.
"There you go," he said as he handed them their soft drinks. Jonathan took a swig of his beer and set it down on the side table. Then he sat back down.
"Has my sister been taking care of you, Jon?" Mallory asked.
Jonathan, not knowing how much Mara had told her sister replied, "She's a sweet young lady."
"Come now, Jon. I know she's been performing oral sex on you. I assume you liked it."
"I err . . . she . . . was very good," Jonathan replied.
"Only very good! I know for a fact my little sister gives the best head you'll ever experience."
"I'm sorry, Mallory. It's just that I wasn't aware that you knew what she did over here."
"There's one thing you'll find out about our family, Jon, and that is we have no secrets."
That last remark terrified him, and Mallory picked up on it. "It's okay, Jon, we can all keep a secret from others."
They sat on the swing, both girls had their skirts pulled up to mid-thigh with legs parted, and Jonathan could see the red triangle of material between Mara's legs, and a pink triangle between Mallory's legs. More souvenirs for his collection he hoped.
"Can I use your bathroom?" Mallory said a few minutes later.
"Sure you can," Jonathan replied. "Follow me."
Mallory followed him into the house and into his master suite. Mara stayed on the swing.
"You can use my bathroom, Mallory, it's through that door there." Jonathan nodded toward his bathroom door and started to turn to leave.
"You don't want to watch?" Mallory said.
"Watch? You mean to watch you use the bathroom?"
"Of course, Jon. Some men find it very erotic to watch a girl pee."
"I . . . I . . . don't know."
"C'mon, Jon. Don't be shy. I know you want to see my pussy and watch me pee."
Jonathan followed Mallory into his bathroom and stood there as she hoisted her skirt around her waist and pulled down her pink, boyshort-style satin panties that were trimmed with white lace at the waist and leg openings. She lifted the lid and sat on the toilet. Jonathan admired her pussy with its small patch of jet black hairs on her plump vee-shaped mons. He knew Mallory could see the unmistakable bulge of his erection inside his shorts.
He stood rooted to the spot as he watched Mallory urinate. A week stream of yellow urine started that quickly turned to a torrent that splashed on the inside front of the toilet bowl. When she was finished, she pulled half a dozen sheets of paper off the toilet roll on its bronze colored holder affixed to the wall.
"I'll let you do the honors," she said, as she handed the toilet tissue to him.
He nervously took the wad of paper and proceeded to wipe Mallory's pussy. She had her eyes closed as he rubbed the paper back and forth. Then he dropped the wad into the bowel and began to remove his hand. Mallory grabbed his wrist and kept his hand between her legs. Jonathan ran his forefinger between her plump labia and found the opening to her vagina. Curling his finger, he entered her as a quiet "Mmmm," escaped her lips.
Gathering her creamy moisture, he removed his finger and found her clitoris. As he explored it, it became apparent that it was the largest clit he had ever experienced—fully the size of a pencil-top eraser. Mallory began to moan as he rubbed and pressed it, and to his surprise, it got larger.
Mallory was moaning loudly, and her legs were jerking uncontrollably as she neared her climax. Jonathan kept up his relentless attack on her clit, furiously rubbing and pressing as Mallory held on the toilet seat with both hands. Then she climaxed. He felt her whole body tremble and shake as her orgasm consumed her. Her legs snapped shut, trapping his hand. Then he felt the wetness in his palm. At the time he thought she had lost control of her bladder as she climaxed. However, on later examination of the clear liquid in his palm, he realized she had squirted—something he had never experienced before.
Mallory calmed and opened her eyes and legs, releasing his trapped hand. "That was a good one, Jon," she said. "Thanks, we must do it again."
With that, she stood up, picked up her panties off the bathroom floor and handed them to him. Jonathan walked outside onto the porch where Mara removed her panties.
"You're getting quite a collection, Jon," she said as she handed her red, satin panties trimmed with white lace at the waist and leg openings to him.
Two days later Mallory parked herself on Jonathan's porch swing. She had her legs together.
"Where's Mara?" Jonathan asked.
"She went shopping with our Mom."
"What color panties today?" he asked.
"You'll have to wait and find out," she replied.
Jonathan wondered what that meant, he decided to wait and see since at his age he didn't get many surprises.
"You're a very unusual family if you don't mind me saying so."
"Oh, Jon, we're more than unusual. You could say we're unique. Can I ask you a personal question?"
"Of course you can."
"You're sixty-nine correct?"
"That's right," he replied but didn't remember telling either Mara or Mallory his age.
"Well, in your sixty-nine years how many women have you made love to?"
"I couldn't say since I didn't keep count."
"Make a guess."
Jonathan thought for a minute as he recalled the women he'd made love to or had sex with. Finally, he replied, "I'd guess maybe twenty-five—give or take a few."
"Out of those twenty-five—give or take a few—how many fourteen-year-old virgins have you taken to bed?"
"None, since that would be breaking the law, and certainly no fourteen-year-old virgins."
"Well, Jon, this your lucky day since I'm fourteen years old and I'm also a virgin," Mallory said as she stood up. She held out her hand. "C-mon, Jon, I already know the way to your bedroom."
Jonathan was hesitant at first. Then he remembered he'd already broken the law by letting Mara perform oral sex on him. Might as well go to prison for two illegal acts since he would never get released anyway. Also the idea of penetrating a fourteen-year-old's pussy was too good to pass up. He stood, took Mallory's hand and let her lead him to Elysian.
Inside his bedroom, Mallory kicked off her flip-flops and Jonathan watched as Mallory unzipped the back of her sundress and let it fall to the floor where she stepped out of it. She stood there wearing just a pair of mint-green, bikini-cut satin panties. Her breasts were perfect B-cup size, semi-orbs of firm flesh, they stood proud of her chest spaced close together with quarter-size dark-pink areolas and small red nipples. She hooked her thumbs inside the waistband of her panties and drew them down.
Jonathan gasped as he saw her plump vulva in the two-finger gap at the top of her slender thighs. The delta-shaped mons with its sparse patch of jet-black hair stood prominently above. She walked over to where he stood and slowly unbuttoned his blue, cotton short-sleeved shirt. It joined her dress on the floor. Next came his shorts and boxers.
She looked at his cock standing straight up. It had been twenty years since it had been this hard. "Mara said you had a beautiful penis and I can see why she loved sucking it."
He joined her on the bed between her slim thighs, his face mere inches away for the most gorgeous pussy he had ever seen. Her mons was like a small mound that rose up between two bony hips. It had a small, sparse patch of jet-black hairs in the middle that stopped at the top of her slot. Her slit was so tight with its plump labia squashed between slender thighs, only the ridge of her clitoral sheath was visible.
Then she opened her legs, giving Jonathan a view of the bright pink folds of flesh and the dark opening to her unsullied vagina. He immediately went to work on her clitoris; he soon coaxed it to come out to play. It lay there like a pink pearl on the shell of its cowl. As he sucked and kissed it, it grew into what looked like a small penis. It was the size of a pencil-top eraser, and every time he sucked it or flicked it with his tongue, loud moans escaped Mallory's lips.
With one hand he reached up and began to squeeze and rub her right breast—a perfect handful. With the other her inserted his forefinger inside her wet honeypot, feeling her clench and unclench her vaginal muscles. A second finger followed causing a sharp intake of breath. A third finger brought her to a quick orgasm. Her legs closed on his head and hand as she trembled with ecstasy.
After she calmed, she excited him as she said, "Go ahead, Jon, put your cock inside my pussy."
Jonathan wasted no time. He got to his knees and, grasping her ankles, pulled her toward him and draped her legs over his thighs. His adult cock looked huge as it filled the width of her entire vulva.
"I'm too big," he said. "I'll hurt you."
"No you're not," Mallory replied. "Go ahead, I can stretch enough."
Grasping the shaft of his cock, he guided it to her waiting vagina. The head pushed aside her plump, engorged labia and stopped at the red opening of her vagina. He pushed. Feeling resistance, he stopped.
"No, it's too big, and you're too small."
Mallory grasped him by his elbows and pulled herself forward. She winced as his cock entered her, but continued pulling herself forward impaling herself on his hard rod. Finally, when their pubes met, she stopped. She looked at him; her Aquamarine eyes sparkled.
"Told you I could stretch enough."
She put her hands around his neck and pulled herself up until she was sitting on his lap with his cock buried deep inside her. Then she began curling her pussy up at him. He moved his crotch back and forth, mirroring her movements. Soon they were in a steady rhythm, fucking each other. Her head was next to his; he could feel her hot breaths on his neck. Jonathan could feel his orgasm gathering strength. He stopped moving.
"It's okay, Jon, you can cum inside me. You won't get me pregnant."
Jonathan started moving again. He could feel his orgasm; it was close. Then his cock swelled, and the first load of his cum jetted out the end and splashed against her cervix. He pumped and pumped his teeming fluid, filling her vagina to overflowing. He had never spurted as much cum in his life—never!
Then, all too soon he was done. Mallory lay back on the bed and smiled at him. "I'm not a virgin any longer thanks to you, Jon. When Mara's a little older, will you take her virginity—pop her cherry?"
Jonathan sighed. "If I'm still alive. I want to make love to you again and again and again."
"You can, Jon. Anytime you like."
Jonathan pulled out of her vagina; a gush of his cum followed as if his cock had been like a finger in the dyke. He couldn't believe he'd spurted that much cum. The raven-haired, fourteen-year-old beauty with Aquamarine eyes who lay before him had turned back the pages of time. He felt like a young stud again.
Jonathan was getting worried since it had been three weeks since either Mara or Mallory had come to visit. He picked up his cell phone and dialed a number.
"This is Jonathan Gates," he said to the woman who answered the phone call. She was the real estate agent who had listed the house of his old friend that he was now living in.
"How can I help you, Mr. Gates?"
"I'm interested in the house that sits to the left of mine."
"Do you mean number 1235, the one to your left when facing the lake?"
"Yes, that's correct."
"I'm sorry Mr. Gates, but it's not for sale if that's your interest."
"No, I'm not interested in buying it. I wanted to know the name of the family living there."
"There's no one living there Mr. Gates. The house has never been lived in. You see, when it was built the surveyor made a mistake. The setback on the side nearest your lot was five feet short of building code. It's sale has been tied up in lawsuits for the last six months."
"But how can that be so? I've seen the daughters of the owner, and the place seems well maintained. I see a man cutting the grass."
"The builder retains a landscaping company to maintain the grounds. You must be mistaken about the daughters—maybe because they knew no one lives there, they came from next door or across the street to play by the lake."
"Okay, thanks," Jonathan said and started to end the call when the real estate agent stopped him.
"Mr. Gates, could I ask you something?"
"The builder of that house approached the previous owner of your house to see if he could purchase five feet of his property to fix the surveyor's mistake, but he wouldn't sell. I was wondering if you would be interested. He offered a lot more money than the land was worth."
"I'm sure we could come to some arrangement."
"Thanks, Mr. Gates, I'll tell him to contact you."
With that, Jonathan ended the call. Confused as to where the two sisters came from curiosity got the better of him. He walked around the shoreline and up to the rear of Mara and Mallory's home. He peered in through the window. The large dining room was devoid of any furniture, and there were no drapes at the windows. He walked around to the front and found the other rooms in the same state. Jonathan then walked to the house across the street and rang the doorbell.
An older lady answered the door. "Can I help you?" she asked."
"Hi, my name's Jonathan Gates, and I live in the house at the end of the cove. I was wondering if you have two girls living here. One goes by the name of Mara and the other Mallory?"
"Sorry, Mr. Gates, it's just my husband and me."
"Maybe one of the other neighbors on this street has two daughters with those names."
"No, Mr. Gates, I know most of our neighbors, and none of them have teenage daughters."
"Okay thanks, sorry to bother you."
A month later, with the sale of the five feet of his property finalized, a family moved into the empty house. Jonathan walked over to introduce himself. He rang the doorbell, and it was answered by a man dressed in a pair of blue jeans and a cotton pullover.
"Hi, my name's Jonathan Gates, and I live next door, so I thought I'd come by and introduce myself."
The man extended his hand and replied, "Ted Jackson, glad to meet you, Jonathan. Come on in."
Jonathan shook Ted's hand and said, "It's Jon, everyone calls me Jon."
Jonathan followed Ted into the spacious kitchen where a woman was unpacking wine glasses.
"This is my wife, Mona. Mona, this is Jon, our next door neighbor."
The woman turned around. She was beautiful with raven-black hair and Aquamarine eyes. She shook his proffered hand.
"Nice to meet you," she said.
At that moment two girls came running into the kitchen. Jonathan was stunned when he saw their raven-black hair and Aquamarine eyes. He was even more stunned when their mother introduced them.
"These are our daughters. Mara's twelve and Mallory's fourteen."
Jonathon was speechless. Had he imagined or maybe dreamed about sex with two girls with the names Mara and Mallory? It was possible since he was starting to have bouts of forgetfulness that his GP had told him was the onset of a very mild dementia. But the names . . .
The two girls looked at each other and whispered in each other's ears.
"Now, girls," Mona said admonishingly, "we don't whisper when company's here."
"Sorry Mom," the two girls chorused. They both shook his hand.
The next day, as Jonathan sat enjoying the late afternoon sun, he saw a young girl come out of the house to his left and walk down to the dock. She was some fifty feet away, but with his still 20/20 eyesight, he could see that she was quite beautiful. She saw him and waved. He waved back. She ran around the shoreline and approached his porch. She wasn't just beautiful—she was stunning with raven-black hair and the most gorgeous pale-blue eyes he had ever seen.
Her name was Mara.
Brianna's Breast Buds
MF, Mg 10, 1st, incest, con, oral.
Vince's wife goes away for a week leaving him in charge of their nine-year-old daughter. Or is his daughter in charge of Vince?
Word Count: 2,340
Date Published: October 01 2018
It didn't start out that way, and it was never my intention to molest my ten-year-old daughter Brianna, but that's what happened. Well I guess molest is too strong a word since it implies assault and abuse and I was certainly not assaulting or abusing my daughter—far from it. Bree, as she liked to be called, loved for me to tickle her. We would play on the floor, I would pretend to grab her, and she would roll away. Bree's mother, my wife, was away for the week to move her aging father into an assisted living place. It was the morning after she had left. Bree came downstairs, bleary-eyed, stretching and running her fingers through her blonde hair, trying to tame the tangled tresses with little effect to no effect.
I loved my daughter dearly. She's a beautiful little girl with medium length blonde—almost white hair inherited from her mother and deep-blue eyes that she inherited from me. I thought she was tall for her age since she was taller than most of her classmates. Her height was one of the reasons her soccer coach put her in goal; the other was because she was quick and athletic in her movements. She was still slim with a small waist and narrow hips. I figured she would take after her mother who had a petite frame such that she had to have a C-section to deliver Bree.
"Morning Daddy," she said through a yawn. I lifted her up, and she put her arms around her neck and locked her ankles in the small of my back. I held her pantied buttocks in my hand—she was so slim I could almost span both firm cheeks with one hand. She gave me a minty kiss on my lips.
"Mornin' punkin," I replied.
Bree giggled whenever I called her punkin; it was a throwback to the first time she had tried to pronounce the word pumpkin. A month ago, my wife had told me that our daughter had officially entered puberty when she had seen small lumps under Bree's nipples—breast buds. My wife had been worried that Bree was a little late in starting puberty since she had started when she was eight. I reminded her what the doctor had said, that all girls are different and can start anytime between eight and thirteen.
I remember sighing and lamenting the fact that my little girl was growing up.
"She can't stay a ten-year-old forever Vince," my wife had said.
I reluctantly agreed. I had noticed subtle changes in Bree. It seemed as if she was now too old to wear clothes with Disney's characters on them—especially underpants. I had noticed that she only wore colored or white ones and although some were full-cut, most were bikini style or what seemed to be popular these days—boyshorts whatever the heck those were.
After breakfast of cereal, Bree retired to the couch where she turned on the television and found the Cartoon Network. I sat at one end and kept playfully pushing her arm with my foot. She kept batting it away, and I kept putting it back.
"Right, Daddy," she said, "this is war."
She launched herself at me and started to tickle me under my arms. I grabbed her 'round her waist, and as she twisted to get away, my hands landed on her breasts. She froze—I froze. Neither of us moved for what seemed like ages, but was probably no more than five seconds. I started to pull my hands away, but she put her hands over mine stopping me. No words were spoken, but the act of her keeping my hands on her breasts spoke tomes.
"Don't take them away," she said. I could feel her small frame shuddering, and her small beaded nipples pressing into the palms of my hands through the thin cotton top. My cock to begin to grow.
"Mommy told me you were growing breasts, Bree."
"Mmm," she replied.
Then she said something that shocked the heck out of me.
"You wanna see em, Daddy."
I wasn't sure how to react to her offer. Ever since she turned five, she never let me see her naked. I must admit, I was getting excited at seeing my daughter's breasts even though they were only breast buds.
I told her, "I think I'd like that, Bree."
She got off the sofa, pulled first one hand out of the armhole and inside her oversized tee-shirt then the other. Finally, she pulled the tee-shirt over her head and dropped it on the sofa. She stood there in just a pair of sky-blue cotton panties in the boyshort style. I guessed that's what they were since they were unlike her others I had seen them in the wash.
I had never seen Bree in panties or in a swimsuit since we didn't have a pool and she swam at school. So I was somewhat shocked at the size of her vulva with its prominent mons that was coddled inside her panties. There was a hint of a camel toe, and my cock grew some more. It would soon form a bulge in my shorts that she would be able to see.
"You've got beautiful breasts, Bree."
And they were. Her breast buds were larger than I expected. I figured they would be like small lumps, but they were the size of small walnuts underneath her nipples. But what made them seem larger were her areolas that were like small domes.
"Thank you, Daddy." She bit her bottom lip. "You wanna touch em?"
I figured in for a penny—in for a pound as the Brits would say. I replied, "I think I'd like that honey."
My cock was now pushing at the leg of my shorts where it had gotten trapped, and I was not about to fish inside my underwear to provide relief. I saw her glance down and wondered if my wife had the birds and bees talk with her. I reached out and with the pad of my finger first circled her breasts then rubbed her nipples. I heard a small sharp intake of breath as I gently massaged her breasts, first one, then the other. Her areolas darkened and got bigger as did her nipples. Soon her twin breasts provided relief from an otherwise completely flat chest. Her small tummy, still with a little baby fat made her mons seem even bigger.
As I massaged Bree's breasts, her eyes slowly closed and she put her hands on my hips to steady herself. I sank to my knees and she moved her hands to my shoulders and I leaned in to kiss each breast in turn.
"Mmm, that's nice, Daddy," she murmured. Her eyes were now closed, her long lashes lay on her small rounded cheeks.
I heard another sharp intake of breath as I sucked her whole breast into my mouth and swirled my tongue around her nipple. Then she did something that really surprised me. She did something that I didn't think possible.
She mewled like a kitten, and her whole body trembled as she orgasmed. I had held her up since her legs seemed to have turned to Jello. Thirty seconds later she opened her eyes and smiled at me.
"That was very, very nice, Daddy."
I had to know—you know how it goes—enquiring minds have to know.
"Have you done that before, Bree . . . you know, given youself a nice feeling?"
"Uh-huh, Mommy told me all about things like that and how to do it myself. She called it an orgasm when I got nice feelings inside like I just did. But I've never had one rubbing my boobs. Mommy showed me how to rub my little button as she called it."
Now that did surprise me. Sally had never told me she was showing Bree how to masturbate.
"And what else did Mommy tell you?"
"She told me about a man's penis and what it was for and why it got big like yours is right now."
"You wanna see my pussy, Daddy?"
I almost choked. That made me think hard about what I should do next—I mean touching my daughter's breasts was probably okay since it could be explained as making sure she was developing okay. But seeing her pussy was another matter altogether—something only her doctor or my wife should be doing.
"Bree, honey. I'm not sure I should be doing that. I shouldn't even be touching your breasts. If anyone found out, I'd be in a lot of trouble. Daddy could even end up in prison."
"That's okay, Daddy. I won't tell. I know how to keep a secret."
Bree didn't wait for my reply, she hooked her thumbs in the elastic waist of her underpants and tugged them over her narrow hips. Gravity took over, and they fell to her ankles. I couldn't tear my eyes off her vulva with its tight slit. There was a small indentation at the very top where her clitoris was located as well as at the bottom just before it merged with her butt crack—the opening to her vagina. What surprised me was the smattering of blonde hairs on her very prominent mons. Although they were more like peach fuzz than actual hairs.
"You're so beautiful, Bree."
"But you can't see my pussy, Daddy."
Bree jumped on the sofa and opened her legs wide giving me an uninterrupted view of the pink folds of flesh inside her plump labia that had flowered open. There at the top was her clit like a tiny pink bead inside the fold of its sheath that formed the start of her still undeveloped inner labia. At the bottom was the small red opening to her vagina.
"You have a gorgeous pussy, Bree. Thanks for showing it to me."
"Don't you want to kiss it, Daddy?"
My ten-year-old daughter's words shocked me. I had already stepped over a line I should never have gone near. I asked myself, 'did I want to kiss and fondle my little girl's pussy? Hell yes, I did.' I moved in close—so close I could smell my daughter's sex. Slightly pungent with a hint of floral soap and sweat. Bree shuddered as I kissed her whole pussy.
My erection was now full-blown, and I used the opportunity of Bree's closed eyes to make some clothing adjustments. As I sucked and licked my daughter's tiny clit, she was moaning and mewling. She had the cutest little snorts as she inhaled sharply. I could tell she wasn't far away from another orgasm as her breathing had increased and her butt and legs started to jerk.
"Oh Daddy, Daddy, Daddy," she cried as she climaxed. Bree closed her slim thighs around my ears as I continued to lick and suck her tiny clit.
She put her hands on my head. "Stop, Daddy, that's too much."
I licked her juices off my lips as I watched her come down off her orgasmic high. I could hardly believe I'd just made my ten-year-old-daughter climax. She opened her eyes and smiled.
"That was even better, Daddy."
I sat on the sofa, and she snuggled her naked body up against me. She was quiet, and I had the feeling that she was thinking of something. Bree may only be ten, but she was very intelligent—and inquisitive to boot. Then she came out with it.
"You know it's only fair that I get to see your penis, Daddy. I mean you've seen my pussy."
I groaned. I undid my belt buckle and the snap at the waist of my shorts. I drew the zipper down as Bree got onto her knees next to me on the sofa. I lifted my butt and pulled both my shorts and underpants down at the same time. Bree jumped as my erection sprang out.
"It's so big, Daddy. You manage to get all of that inside Mommy's pussy?"
"Can I touch it?"
There was no way I was going to let her make me cum. It wouldn't take a whole lot of physical stimulation since I had been on the cusp of an orgasm while eating out her pussy.
"Just a touch and nothing more, Bree. Okay?"
She sighed with disappointment. "Okay, Daddy."
I watched as Bree's small hand grasped the thick shaft. She couldn't touch her finger to her thumb, her hands were too small. She started to move her hand. I stopped her.
"Just a touch, honey."
Bree let her hand linger for a few moments then let go of my cock; it slapped back against my stomach. That brought on a bought of giggles. I pulled my underpants and shorts back up.
I kissed Sally and rolled to her side after having catchup sex. She had been gone for almost week, and a week never went by without us making love.
"I'm glad you got your dad situated honey," I told her.
"He was not happy at first, but after he toured the place, he seemed to like it. I think there were a couple of women who had their eyes on him."
"Your dad's always attracted women."
"So, how was your time with Bree?"
"She was just fine."
"Only just fine, Vince?"
"Uh-huh," I replied with no idea what she was going on about.
"Did you get to see her breast buds?"
Then it clicked. "You put her up to that!?"
"Uh-huh. She'd been asking me if it was okay to show you since she was so proud of them."
"They're beautiful Sally."
"Did you like her pussy as well?"
"Jeez, Sally. You could have at least forewarned me."
"That would have spoiled the surprise. Let me tell you what she wants to do next."
I groaned after she told me what my ten-year-old daughter wanted to do with me next.
MF, con, romantic.
A cancellation of Kate's hotel reservation, has unexpected consequences.
Word Count: 2,768
Date Published: October 14 2018
Kate Irvine pulled up under the porte cocherè of her hotel. She gave her rental car key-fob to the parking attendant and received a tag in return. She walked to the check-in desk pulling her rolling suitcase behind her. After taking her Visa card out of her wallet, she placed it on the counter.
"My name's Kate Irvine, and I have a reservation for three nights."
The check-in manager clicked a few keys on the computer. He had a puzzled expression on his face.
"You did have a reservation, Miss Irvine but it was canceled this morning by someone by the name of Markham."
"But that's my secretary. I told her to cancel my reservations at my next stop in Birmingham. She must have got my itinerary mixed up and canceled the wrong reservation. Can you get me a room?"
"Just a minute Miss Irvine, the check-in manager said. He hit a few more keys. "We don't have a regular room, but we do have a suite, and it's the last one."
Kate sighed, annoyed at the additional expense which she would probably have to eat since there was a cap on room rates. "Okay, I'll take it."
Kate signed the check-in form and retrieved her Visa card.
"Here you go," the check-in manager said as he handed her the room key-card.
Ryan walked out of the bedroom of his hotel suite, naked with just a hand towel around his neck when the door opened, and a beautiful woman walked in. She pulled a wheeled suitcase behind her and was half-turned with her side to him holding the door open to ensure her suitcase didn't get caught. It wasn't until the door closed behind her did she look up and see Ryan. Her eyes got large as she saw this tall, handsome man standing naked in front of her with his toned body and his cock hanging down against his left leg. Ryan just stood there looking at her.
She was tall since she was almost the same height as Ryan at five-nine, with long dark-brown hair tied high on the back of her head with a white Scrunchie, and piercing blue eyes. She was dressed in a black pantsuit over a cream-colored silk blouse with black pumps.
"What are you doing in my room?" she asked.
Ryan replied, "I could ask you the same thing."
"But I have a room card," she said, holding the card in front of her. She kept looking down at Ryan's cock, her pussy tingling like crazy.
Ryan walked to the credenza and picked up his room key-card and showed it to her and said, "So do I."
"There must be some mistake," she said. She turned, opened the door and left. Ryan chuckled, put on a clean pair of boxers and sat on the sofa. He clicked the remote and turned on the television.
Back at the check-in desk, Kate Irvine was busy explaining to the manager that they had double booked her room.
"But that's not possible, Miss Irvine," the manager said.
"I think it is since there's a man in my room," Kate replied.
"Just one minute," the manager said and started hitting the keys on the computer. It says here that a Mr. Ryan Jackson checked in yesterday in room 1008. And you checked in twenty minutes ago in room . . . 1008. But that's not supposed to happen. The system is designed not to double book a room."
"But it obviously did," Kate replied. Please give me another room."
"I'm sorry, Miss Irvine, but we're fully booked. It's the convention you see."
"Yes, I know. That's why I'm here. Please check the other hotels in town and find me a room."
The clerk spent the next half hour calling all the other hotels in town. She hung up after speaking to the last one.
"I'm terribly sorry, Miss Irvine, but there are no rooms available. But we just got a cancellation for tomorrow night. I could reserve that one for you if you like."
"Please do that," Kate replied and walked away from the desk frustrated. She had to attend the conference since she was a keynote speaker, so she had to find somewhere to sleep. Then the image of Ryan's naked body floated into her mind. She took the elevator to the tenth floor. She stood outside room 1008, swallowed hard and knocked on the door.
"It's you again," Ryan said when he opened the door. Did they find you a room?"
Kate blinked and said, "They have no rooms; they're booked solid."
"How about other hotels?"
The two of them stood there in awkward silence for a few moments. Then Ryan said," Then I guess you'd better come in."
He stepped aside, and Kate walked into the room pulling her suitcase behind her. She was thankful to see the suite had a separate bedroom.
"If you don't mind sharing, it's just for one night," Kate said. "They have a room for me tomorrow night. I'll gladly pay for half of this room."
"That won't be necessary," Ryan said. He put out his hand and said, "Since we'll be sleeping together I guess introductions are in order. My name's Ryan Jackson."
"Let's get things straight, Mr. Jackson, we won't be sleeping together."
"Sorry, a figure of speech."
"Kate shook his hand. "Kate Irvine."
"Nice to meet you, Kate. You here for the convention?"
"That's right," she said. She looked around. "How's this going to work?"
"Well, there are only two options, Kate. There are two queen-sized beds so you could sleep in one of them or there's the couch."
Kate looked at the couch. It wasn't designed to accommodate someone of her height.
"Or you could sleep on the couch," she said.
"Have you heard to the expression possession is nine points of the law, Kate?
Now Kate was getting a little irritated. "You could be a gentleman about the whole situation, Ryan."
"I thought that's what I was doing by offering to let you stay in my suite."
Kate sighed. "Very well then, I guess it's going to have to be the bed." She pulled her suitcase into the bedroom and lifted it onto the bed. She opened it and took out her toiletries bag and a pair of green silk pajamas and went into the bathroom and locked the door. Ryan was standing outside the bathroom door when it opened, and Kate started to come out dressed in her pajamas.
Ryan stepped through the opening, they passed each other sideways. When two people pass each other sideways through a thirty-six-inch wide opening, physical contact is inevitable. Kate's ample breasts got squashed against his chest, and her nipples, erect and hard from being brushed by the silk of her pajamas, got rubbed sending tingles all the way to her pussy.
"Sorry," Kate said.
"My pleasure," Ryan replied.
He smiled. She smiled back. Ryan watched as she walked to her bed. He started to get an erection as he saw the silk of the pajama bottoms got trapped in the cleft between two spectacular firm buttocks. He closed the door, took a leak, washed his hands and brushed his teeth. He glanced at the chair where her suit jacket was hung on the back over her suit pants. Kate's underwear was lying on the seat. They were black, lacy, skimpy, and sexy as hell. Ryan looked at the label. They were from Victoria's Secret, and her bra size was a 34C.
Kate could hardly believe what she was doing. She was a college educated thirty-one-year-old woman with a successful career in sales, and yet here she was sharing a bedroom with a complete stranger and acting like a love-struck teenager. But there again, he was a really good-looking guy, and she had seen him naked. She was sure her best friend Charly would get a good kick out of this story, she was sure about that.
Ryan switched off the light and came out of the bathroom. Kate was under the covers of her bed reading her notes for her keynote speech the following day. She glanced up and couldn't help notice the long fat outline of his cock inside his boxers. Then she remembered the episode in the bathroom doorway.
Kate had only ever had a one-night stand before. She was out of town on a sales call when she met a guy at a cocktail bar. She had spent the night in his hotel room, and all-in-all it was a pleasant distraction. It had been a good three months since she and her boyfriend of a year and a half had broken up. He didn't want to settle down, and she did. She wondered about Ryan . . .
Ryan climbed into bed. He looked across at Kate. He was most definitely attracted to her. She was tall, and beautiful and obviously a businesswoman judging by her clothes. The pajamas she was wearing looked expensive, and even though it was somewhat loose, there was no way it could hide her impressive figure. Classic hourglass shape with a nice rounded ass and ample breasts that seemed larger on her slim frame.
"You here for the conference?" he said.
"That's right. I'm giving a keynote speech tomorrow."
"And you? You here for the conference as well?"
"No, I'm CEO of Jackson Enterprises. I'm just here to meet with a client who's attending."
"I've dealt with your company. I got a big order from them not two months ago. If you don't mind me asking, how old are you and are you married?" Kate knew it was almost an invitation for sex otherwise why would she ask if he was married?
"I'm thirty-three, and no, I've never been married. And I know what you're thinking, Kate, how someone so young became a CEO of such a large corporation."
"Yes, Ryan, that thought did cross my mind."
"Nepotism—not that I'm not qualified. Yale Business graduated summa cum laude. My grandfather started the business then my father took over, and he handed the reins to me."
"I've never been married; I'm thirty-one, and I haven't been laid in three months." Kate could hardly believe she said that, but there was no going back now since the invitation was out there.
"I thought you'd never ask," Ryan said. "Your place or mine?"
"Yours," Kate said.
She got out of bed and slowly unbuttoned the pajama top. Ryan caught his breath as he saw the top come off. Her breasts were stupendous, large, firm, ski slope tops—full, rounded undersides with creases where they joined with her chest. Areolas, dark-pink, with perfect circles of small goosebump-like lumps around rubbery nipples. He looked down at her mons, a hairless delta-shaped raised pad that pointed to a tight slit between plump labia. Her narrow waist emphasized her hips, her long slender legs seemed to go on forever.
"My God, Kate. You have the most beautiful body I have ever seen. You're beautiful; you're the total package. Why some guy hasn't snapped you up by now, I'll never know."
Kate slipped under the covers. "Afraid of commitment. My last boyfriend of a year and a half, ran the first time I used the words settle down."
"His loss is some other lucky guy's gain."
Kate hoped that Ryan might be that guy. He put his hands under the covers and pushed his boxers down. In Ryan's experience, sex the first time was like an exploratory exercise, finding out what your partner liked and didn't; what parts of their body got them excited the most. The first time they had indeed explored, talked, found the trigger points, confirmed, advised, instructed, enjoyed making love. The second time was in his opinion spectacular, and with Kate it was.
It was past midnight, and they had made incredible love for half an hour. Kate had climaxed twice, and now they had been lying there for an hour, caressing each other, kissing, talking. Kate found his cock; it was hard again.
"You ready to do it again?" she asked.
"Try and stop me," Ryan replied.
Kate obligingly opened her legs as he shuffled down the bed and got between them, her pussy was mere inches away from his face. Her vulva was open, and her labia were puffed and reddened from their previous lovemaking session. Ryan dipped his tongue into the red opening of her vagina, tasting her creamy juices and his own semen.
Ryan began to work on Kate's clit that was still engorged from his earlier ministrations. Soon she was thrashing around on the bed and moaning. Then she orgasmed for the third time that night. She let out short "ahhhs" between panted breaths. Ryan felt her whole body tremble as she climaxed.
"Oh God, Ryan," she cried as her orgasm overwhelmed her body. She had his head in her hands and was pushing his face into her wet pussy as her body trembled and jerked. Finally, she released him and pulled him. He took the hint and lay on top of her supporting his weight on his forearms.
Kate reached between them and grasped the shaft of his cock and guided its large, helmet-shaped head to her waiting pussy. He curled his crotch, entering her with a single thrust that caused a loud gasp to escape her lips. There was no dialog since each knew what the other needed. They made love, slowly at first then more urgently as their needs intensified.
Both chased their orgasm, their sweet relief, their ecstasy, their nirvana. Kate found hers first. Ryan felt her vagina spasm as it clenched and released its tight grip on his cock. Then a few seconds afterward, he exploded inside her, flooding her with his teeming fluid, unmindful of the effectiveness of her birth control pills. She bucked underneath him, pressing her clit into his pubic bone, milking every last drop of pleasure from her orgasm.
Ryan was now spent, and his cock was rapidly softening. One last clench of Kate's vaginal muscles expelled it. She cupped her pussy and got off the bed and into the bathroom. When she came out a few minutes later, she was wearing her black skimpy, lace panties still sexy as hell. She slipped under the covers where Ryan spooned her back with his hand cupping her right breast. Both of them were tired, and soon they were asleep.
The clock radio on the nightstand said 6:25. Ryan was still asleep next to her. She thought herself extremely lucky to have had secretary cancel her reservation for last night, albeit a bad mistake that under normal circumstances would have meant a stern reprimand. Right now, if her secretary were here in the hotel room, she would have hugged her.
Kate picked up the hotel phone and pushed zero for the front desk.
"How can I help you," the voice on the other end said.
"This is Kate Irvine, and you have a room reserved for me tonight for two nights."
"Just a moment," the voice said. Kate could hear the clacking of a keyboard. "Yes, I see the reservation," the voice said.
"Please cancel it since I won't be needing it."
Kate turned back to Ryan, who was now awake and laid her head on his shoulder, her hand was gripping his cock that was gradually getting longer and harder. He had one hand around her shoulders his other was squeezing her left breast.
"I want to see you again, Kate."
"I do too, Ryan. Where do you live?"
Kate sighed and replied, "San Diego.
"Come work for me, Kate?" he said.
"I couldn't do that, Ryan. People would think I got the job because we were a couple."
"Then marry me."
"Marry you! You serious?"
"As a heart attack."
Kate thought for a few moments, then said, "Okay."
"You serious, Kate?"
"As I told you earlier," Ryan said, "your ex-boyfriend's loss is now my gain."
"Then I guess I'm moving to Boston," Kate said. She removed her panties and straddled his hips. She grasped the shaft of his cock, lifted up, positioned its head at her opening, and settled down onto it.
"I figure we've got about half an hour."
"No, Kate, that's where you're wrong. We've got the rest of our lives."
Kate smiled at the thought.
MF, Md, creampie, con.
A woman seeks out men to have sex with so she can scratch her itch to have an orgasm.
Word Count: 4,148
Date Published: Xcc 00 2018
He thrust into me one more time and grunted as he filled my pussy with his cum. I knew not making him wear a condom was risky, but they always blunted the sensation of a cock inside me and of course it wouldn't let me feel him spurt. I could smell his body; it seemed as if he hadn't showered for days, but I didn't care. I wanted his cum inside me, and I wanted an orgasm. But this time, like many others before, there was no orgasm. My depravity knew no bounds since I sought something that always seemed to elude me—an orgasm with a man's cock inside me. I had this itch, and I'd do anything to scratch it.
I had picked the man up in a bar in a part of the city that I had frequented quite often for the last three years. He was not particularly attractive—what he looked like was of no concern to me. I wanted his cock inside my pussy, and I wanted him to fuck me to an orgasm.
Once again with the lack of orgasm. I got up, pulled on my panties and got dressed.
"You going so soon?" he asked.
"Yeah, gotta go. My son's sitter needs to get home," I replied.
"You wanna meet up again?" he asked.
I told him no and left the cheap hotel room and drove home with his cum leaking into my panties. I always wore a pad inside my panties when I went out on a Friday night because I knew what was going to happen.
"Did Gordon brush his teeth?" I asked Melanie, my eighteen-year-old sitter. Gordon now fourteen was really getting old enough to look after himself.
"Yes, he did Mrs. Appleby."
"Thanks, Mel, do you want me to walk you home?"
"No that's okay, it's only four houses down."
After paying her, I shut the door and turned out the lights. I checked on my fourteen-year-old son before taking a shower to wash the smell of my 'date' for the evening off my body and his cum out of my pussy. In my bed, I slipped my hand inside my panties, and as hard as I tried, I couldn't bring myself to the sweet relief of an orgasm.
It had been four years since the love of my life, and the father of my son had died in an accident at his work. Clive and I were childhood sweethearts, he lived next door, and we dated throughout high school as well as college, where in my sophomore year I got pregnant with Gordon. I managed to finish college while we raised our son.
The generous settlement from the insurance company of Clive's employer together with a half million dollar life insurance policy, provided for mine and Gordon's comfort. I didn't have to work after Clive's death, but I enjoyed the company I worked for, and my boss had been very accommodating at letting me take time off after my husband's death. My co-workers were very friendly to be around, and for the first six months after my husband's death, they were very supportive.
I missed Clive and most of all I missed our lovemaking; I never failed to have at least one orgasm, and that's what I missed; I missed the weight of his body on top of me, the swelling of his cock buried deep inside my pussy as he pumped me full of his semen. The sensation of his cum spurting inside me always brought me to a quick and incredibly satisfying orgasm.
The men I started dating a year after Clive's death were very nice, and I could have easily married any one of them if they had asked. But as hard as they tried, they could never bring me to an orgasm, either with their cock inside me or with their finger or with their tongue. As my frustration grew with the ever-present itch that needed scratching, it took a toll on those relationships which inevitably led to a break-up.
Gordon was terrific during that period of my life even though he was only eleven years old. He would come into my bed if he heard me crying and comfort me. He was a very loving child, and when he entered puberty, he reminded me a lot of his father. He had the same sandy colored hair and grey eyes. When he was twelve I walked in on him in the bathroom one morning He had not locked the door, and as I opened the door, he was in the middle of ejaculating into the toilet bowl. Fortunately, he was so engrossed in cumming that he didn't see me, so I quietly closed the door. One thing that surprised me though was the size of his penis. It was obviously not as big as his father's, but I thought it quite large for a boy his age.
After I had exhausted the eligible bachelors, as well as a one week fling with a married man, without any orgasms, I took to picking up strangers; I'd either go back to their apartment or their house, or a hotel room where we would have sex. I never ever brought any of them home with me. My relentless need to find the release that an orgasm provided, to scratch that ever-present itch, drove me deeper and deeper into depravity. I found out that in addition to trying to get an orgasm, the risk of having sex with strangers added to my excitement. But not enough to give me what I wanted most.
I was in a neighborhood bar one evening when a guy hit on me shortly after I arrived. After a few drinks, I asked him if he wanted to take me home or to a motel room. I was never very subtle when it came to asking for sex. He said he just wanted a quickie and asked if we could do it in the bathroom. My pussy was tingling at the thought of getting fucked where someone could walk in on us at any moment. I agreed and followed him into the Men's room where he pushed me against a sink, lifted my skirt and pulled my panties down to my ankles. He was in the middle of fucking me when a man walked in. My 'date' didn't see him since his head was turned away from the door. At first, the stranger just stood there watching us, and I found myself starting to get the feeling that I might be going to climax this time.
He walked over and stood at the urinal next to the sink where my 'date' was fucking me, fished his cock out of his pants and proceeded to take a leak while watching me get fucked. He finished peeing, put his cock away and went back to the bar. Shortly afterward my 'date' climaxed and spurted inside me. When he was done, he pulled out of me, pulled his underwear and pants up and left. I guess that was a waste of time, I thought, another fuck without an orgasm. I pulled my panties up and walked back to my seat at the bar. My 'date' had already left, but I saw the man who had stood next to us in the Men's room at the far end of the bar looking at me. He was an older man, in his fifties, distinguish looking and a little out of place in this bar.
He got up and carried his drink to where I was sitting. He set it down on the bar next to me and sat down.
"My name's George," he said.
"I'm Nancy," I replied. I never used my real name.
"You want to go and get a room?" he asked.
Maybe he can scratch my itch, I thought. I finished my gin and tonic and stood up. Okay," I replied, "I'll follow you."
I followed his car to a nearby motel. At least it wasn't seedy like some I'd been in. He got a room card, and we went inside. I went to the bathroom and got undressed. When I returned to the bedroom he was sitting on the edge of the bed—naked. I got on my back, and he immediately thrust his cock inside me. There was no foreplay, and that was okay with me. It didn't bother him that I still had some of the other man's semen inside me; I could hear the slurping sound as his cock pushed aside my last 'date's' cum. I waited on my climax as he fucked me with his quite large cock. It never came, but he did, groaning as he spurted inside me. When he was done, he rolled off of me, and I got off the bed and returned to the bathroom where I cleaned up the best I could. After I had changed pads, I got dressed and went back to the bedroom. He had already left. Frustrated again I drove home.
I was getting to the point where I was about to give up. I had been fucked by close to a hundred and twenty men in the space of three years and the risk of contracting an STD and well as that of going home with a man who might decide that a quick fuck wasn't enough and do me harm was growing. I read of a swingers club two towns over that piqued my interest. I figured that there would be a lot of opportunities to scratch my itch, so I arranged for Gordon to spend Friday night at his best friend's house.
The club wasn't what I expected. After paying the hundred dollar entry fee, I was admitted. I walked into a large room with a bar along one wall and lots of armchairs and table along the other wall. There were a lot more men than women which didn't surprise me and the few women that were there weren't what you would want to take home to meet your parents.
It is evident that I wasn't welcome by the majority of the women since I got a lot of stares and they weren't stares of welcome. I ordered a gin and tonic and sat at the bar. It wasn't five minutes when the first guy came over and sat beside me.
"My name's Chuck," he said. "You been here before?"
"I'm Nancy," I replied, "and no this is my first time."
As we talked, I found out that he was here with his wife. He nodded to a petite woman in her early thirties who sat in an armchair at one of the tables on the opposite side of the room. She seemed nervous since she kept looking at her husband talking to me. She was a lot more attractive than any of the other women in the room.
"She's very attractive," I said.
"Yeah, we've been here quite a few times."
"Oh, okay." I wondered if bringing a woman into the mix would finally allow me to get an orgasm from a man.
He beckoned for his wife to join us.
She got up and walked over to us. She seemed very nervous.
I extended my hand. "Hi, I'm Nancy," I said, "and it's my first time here."
"I'm Judy," she said. "Nice to meet you." I liked her right away and wondered if sex with her husband, while she joined in, would finally scratch my itch.
"We can go to one of the private or public rooms upstairs if you want," Chuck said. "They charge a hundred dollars a half hour for a public room or a hundred and fifty for a private room, but we would rather go to a hotel."
"I have a hotel room," I offered.
She looked at her husband. "What do you think honey?"
"We would love to come back to your hotel room," he said.
He paid my bar bill, and we walked out to the parking lot. He was driving a Ford F150 pickup in which he followed me to the Hampton Inn. Inside my room, the atmosphere was a little awkward until I suggested that Judy and I would get undressed in the bathroom.
"You seem nervous, you ever had sex with a woman?" I asked as we got undressed.
"No, and I think you maybe have the wrong idea. I won't be joining in with you and my husband."
"You won't? Then why did you come?"
She seemed as if she was embarrassed to say something.
"Well . . . it's just that . . . I can only get an orgasm if I masturbate while watching my husband have sex with a stranger."
That admission struck a chord in me. "That's interesting," I said.
She took her bra off, and I was surprised that she hardly had any breasts. They were very small, like breast buds on a pubescent girl. But when she pulled her panties down, I almost gasped. She had the largest vulva I had ever seen and her petite frame it made it look larger still. She easily had a two finger gap at the top of her thighs, and it was filled with plump labia and a long clitoral sheath. She obviously had a Brazilian wax job since her mons was smooth and stubble-free. She saw me admiring her pussy and smiled.
"Sort of makes up for my small tits," she said. "They stopped growing when I was twelve."
"Big tits are overrated anyway," I replied. "You sure you don't want to join in? I'd love to go down on you?"
"No thanks. I've tried that, and I can't get an orgasm that way."
We returned to the bedroom where Chuck was lying on the bed stroking his cock. I gasped as I saw the size of it. He was of average length, and I'd seen so many cocks that I knew what average was, but its girth was almost twice than an average one. I wondered if his size would, at last, let me get an orgasm and scratch that itch.
"My your husband's got a large cock," I remarked to Judy.
"Now you know why my pussy's so big. I was one of the few women who could accommodate him, but I can't climax with him inside me."
I walked over and got on the bed and straddled Chuck's hips, lowering myself onto his cock lying on his stomach. It completely filled the gap between my thighs. He handed me a tube of K-Y gel. I squeezed a generous amount in the palm of my hand and rubbed it over the end of his large member.
"Well here goes nothing," I said as I lifted up and grasped the shaft of his cock; I couldn't close my fingers around it. I guided the end to the opening of my pussy and slowly lowered myself, inch by inch onto his cock. I was amazed that I could dilate enough to accommodate his girth. After about two or three minutes I had finally got all of him inside of me, and I felt so stuffed.
I looked over at Judy who sat in a chair next to the bed with one leg over the arm. Her large vulva was wide open, and she was diddling her clit while watching me rise up and down on her husband's large cock. He wanted to get on top, but I was afraid that he would get carried away and hurt me, so I told him no, that I wanted to set the pace.
Judy was moaning loudly as she finger fucked herself while diddling her clit with her other hand, all the while watching her husband's fat cock slide in and out of my pussy and his hands squeezing my tits. Even with a large cock stretching my pussy I was not feeling the stirring of an orgasm. To listen to Judy in the throes of a huge orgasm and her husband doing the same while he spurted his cum inside me was incredibly frustrating, to say the least.
"Wow! that was an amazing orgasm," Judy said, adding to my frustration. I lifted off Chuck's cock, feeling his cum gush out onto his pubes.
Fifteen minutes later, Chuck and Judy left. I took a shower and decided to go back to the swingers club. Inside there were quite a few more men and women. I walked upstairs and was greeted with a long hallway with small rooms off to each side. At the far end was a bank of lockers, presumably so that the guests could secure their clothes and valuables. I walked over and got undressed. With the key on an elastic band around my wrist, I walked naked back to the far end of the hallway.
The rooms were about eight by eight and had a queen-sized bed against one wall. The rooms to the left had doors which I figured were the private ones since the ones to the right had just openings. In the first two rooms, a couple was having sex on the bed with another guy standing watching them, stroking his cock. I stood and watched as he masturbated, eventually cumming all over the woman's breasts which immediately cause her to climax. "Lucky woman," I said to myself. In the third room, a guy was lying on the bed stroking his cock that was a good eight inches long. I walked inside.
"You wanna fuck?" he asked.
"Sure," I replied, thinking the extra length of his cock might at last scratch my itch since it was by far the largest one I had ever seen. He started to tear open a foil condom pouch.
"No condom," I said. He shrugged and put it back under the pillow.
I lay on my back, and he sat on his heels between my legs. Grasping the long shaft of his cock, he positioned it at the entrance to my pussy and pushed. I easily accommodated his girth, and when he pushed all the way inside me and hit the end, it jolted me.
"Bet you've never had a cock this big inside you," he said in a bragging sort of way.
"It's not the size that counts," I replied, "it's what you do with it."
He took that as a challenge and started to fuck me hard, banging into my cervix on every thrust. After about thirty seconds he climaxed, and I felt him spurt inside me. No orgasm again. I will say for his benefit, he did spurt a lot, and most of it was leaking past his cock and puddling on the bed. I was glad I had brought extra pads with me since I still had some of Chuck's cum inside me. I was surprised that this guy never noticed.
He pulled out of me, and I lay there for a while letting his cum leak out before I got up. Thankfully the rooms came with a couple of hand towels. I grabbed one and stuffed it between my legs as I got up and went to the Ladies room, where I cleaned up before getting dressed. I returned to my hotel room and took a long soak in the tub before getting into bed. My sleep was fitful as my frustration grew. I made a decision to go and see a sex therapist the next week.
On the way home the next morning I picked Gordon up from his friend's house.
"Did you have a good time?" he asked.
"Not really honey, but it was interesting."
"I'm sorry Mom," he said. "You go out on Friday nights, and the next morning you don't seem to be happy." He was such a sweet boy; he reminded me a lot of his father.
Later that evening I was lying in bed with my fingers inside my pussy trying desperately to bring myself to an orgasm when I heard my bedroom door open, and Gordon slipped in. He climbed into bed beside and put his arm around me. I slept naked as did he. Nakedness in our house, while not the norm, was not something to be ashamed of. If one or the other happened to walk in on the other as they were getting in or out of the shower or getting dressed or undressed, we never bothered to cover up.
But this was a side to my son that I had not seen before. He had never come into my bed before. I think the change in him started a month ago when I saw him masturbating while lying on his bed. The door was open, and I didn't know if he had forgotten to close it, or he wanted me to see him. I didn't care, so I just stood outside his room watching him. He glanced across at me, and he blushed but didn't stop rubbing his cock. It was a beautiful sight to watch my son spurt his cum. His spurts were quite strong since they all landed on his chest.
From that day on, he would always leave his bedroom door open. At bedtime, he would kiss me on my mouth and head upstairs. I would follow five minutes later, and he would either be lying there masturbating for me, or the light would be out, and he would be under the covers.
"Can I make you happy Mom?" he said.
"Just being you makes me happy," I replied.
"Can I sleep with you tonight?"
"Yes honey, I'd like that very much."
As he hugged me, I drifted off to sleep
I awoke early the next morning to feel Gordon's hard cock pressing into my butt and his hand holding my breast. This was something new. The last time he slept with me was when he was ten, and he never got an erection then. I turned over and pulled the covers down and examined my son's nice erection. He had grown quite a lot since the last time I saw his cock. He was almost as long as my late husband's, and he hadn't finished growing yet. I put my hand around it, and although I could touch my fingers with my thumb, he was quite fat—about the same size as one of those large whiteboard dry-erase pens. I immediately got a very pleasant tingle in my pussy.
He started to stir as I pulled the foreskin back exposing the shiny glans. My son's cock was really quite beautiful made even more so since he hadn't yet started to grow pubic hair. I let go of it since I didn't want to embarrass him. Then he surprised me.
"Don't stop Mom, that felt so good," he said as he looked at me and smiled. I could see my late husbands grey eyes.
"You sure honey?" I asked.
"Yes, Mom. I usually get a morning woody and masturbate."
Not needing any more prompting, I grasped his cock and started to stroke it. "You've got a beautiful cock Gordon," I said.
"Thanks, Mom," he replied.
He gasped as I took his cock into my mouth and sucked gently.
"Mmm, you taste good, I said.
I could feel his body start to jerk and I wondered what it would feel like if he was inside me when he climaxed.
"You want to put it inside my pussy?" I asked.
"Uh-huh," he replied matter-of-factly and climbed over my legs and lay on top of me. I reached between us, and with my finger and thumb guided the tip of his cock to my wet pussy.
"Push inside me, honey," I urged.
As he pushed, his cock slipped all the way inside me.
"That feels so good, Gordon."
"Mmmm," was all he said.
I don't know if it was instinctive or not, but he started to thrust in and out of me, and I felt the stirrings of an orgasm. Would this be the first time I climaxed in four years, I wondered. I held his firm buttocks in my hands, urging him on. He didn't take long to climax, and as he spurted inside me, it pushed me over the top into my orgasm. I held him tight to my breasts as he spurted his cum inside me and I shook with a very intense orgasm. Finally, I came down off my high and started to cry.
"What is it Mom?" he asked, concerned. "Did I do it wrong?"
I kissed him on his lips. "No honey, you did great. It's just that I've not had an orgasm since your Dad died and it's been way too long."
"I'd like to do it again," he said.
"I'd like that very much honey."
mg 13/10, mmg 15/15/12, mast, oral, bro/sis, con.
A brother and his sister discover the joys of mutual pleasuring. However the sister wants more.
Word Count: 3,171
Date Published: December 23 2018
I vividly remember the first time I saw a naked female. I mean a real live naked female. I had seen many naked women in one of the Penthouse magazines that my dad kept in a cupboard in the attached single car garage. I would sneak one into my bedroom stuffed halfway down the back of my shorts, the tails of my shirt hiding the part above my belt. I would masturbate at night with the magazine open to a centerfold.
Back in the sixties living in a semi-detached on a council housing estate in the small town of Ditchford, the only magazine showing pubic hair was Health and Efficiency—a monthly purported to be for naturists. I had no idea where the name came from and what it had to do with naturism, but it was the only sex education I got since English schools didn't offer Sex-Ed classes. But even that magazine never showed a woman's pussy as they were covered in thick pubic hair.
I was thirteen and my sister Jenny was ten. I remembered that it was a Saturday morning and Jenny had insisted on tagging along with me to the local Gaumont cinema for the weekly Saturday morning pictures for kids. It was a mixture of cartoons, a little news and it always ended with a cliffhanger episode of The Lone Ranger or Flash Gordon. The hero would be seen falling to his death at the very end of the episode only to miraculously catch a tree branch to save himself in the opening scene of next week's episode.
Most of my friends hated having to look after their younger sisters, always trying to weasel out—offering some excuse or other. To be seen with a younger sister was the epitome of embarrassment and was to be avoided like the plague. But for some reason, I liked Jenny hanging around with me, and I just ignored the taunts of my friends. Some would come to find out that having a sister had some perks.
"You wanna go and hang out by the clay banks," Jenny said as we exited the cinema. The clay banks is what we kids called the gently-curving slow-moving section of the river behind our house. There was a thirty-foot section of sandy beach on the inside and a six-foot-high bank on the opposite side. The movement of the water was quite fast after heavy rains, and had eroded the far side, widening the river and exposing the red clay. It was a favorite spot for swimming as the water was deep and a fallen tree gave an ideal platform for diving.
I said yes, and we set off from the center of town. Fifteen minutes later, we walked down a narrow path between two detached houses and into the fields beyond. Ten minutes later we arrived on the sandy beach. The area was unusually quiet which I put down to the annual fair being in town that most kids attended. We took off our sandals and socks and sat on the beach with our feet in the cool water.
Jenny looked at me and out of the blue said, "Can I get a kiss, Ewan?"
"I'm your brother, Jenny and brothers don't kiss their sisters."
"Oh, c'mon, Ewan. I've only ever kissed Dawn. I want to know what a real kiss is like. Please?"
"Okay, but you better not tell anyone I kissed you," I said.
I leaned in and gave her a quick peck on her lips.
"That's not a kiss. I want a real kiss."
I put my hand behind her head and pulled her to me and kissed her for about ten seconds. I got a really funny feeling. I had kissed a couple of girls before, but kissing Jenny was different. It felt much better. I went back to kiss her again, and she opened her mouth. I don't know why I did it as I hadn't heard of French kissing at that age, but I put my tongue in her mouth. She pulled away from me and grimaced.
"Ewh, Ewan. Why did you stick your tongue in my mouth?"
"I dunno, I just did."
"Well don't do it again, it's nasty," Jenny said. It's funny really, looking back at her reaction. She came to love French kissing me.
"I saw you sneak one of Dad's girlie magazines up to your room the other day," Jenny said after a while.
"How do you know about them?" I replied, slightly embarrassed at being caught out.
"I found them one day while looking for my bicycle pump. Why don't they show their pussies?"
"I dunno, I guess it's against the law," I replied. It never occurred to me why their legs were always crossed, or they only showed the women's breasts.
"Do you get a stiffy looking at the pictures of naked women?"
"What do you know about stiffies, Jenny?"
"My friend, Dawn said she saw her brother's one time. She said he was rubbing it. Do you rub yours?"
I looked the other way as my face was red.
"You're embarrassed aren't you?" Jenny said.
"No, I'm not,"
"Yes, you are."
This went on for ten seconds or so until I said, "Yes."
"Yes, you rub it?" Jenny said.
I just nodded. I could feel my cock starting to get hard.
"You rub it while looking at the pictures. Dawn said she saw her brother's stiffy spurt white stuff one time. It's what makes babies. She said it's called spunk. I told her the proper name was semen, and his stiffy is called a penis."
"How come you know so much?" I asked.
"I dunno. I read a lot. Can I see your penis?"
"No, you can't."
"I'll show you my pussy if you let me see your penis."
The urge to finally see a female pussy overcame my embarrassment at my sister looking at my erection.
"Okay, but you have to show me yours first," I said.
I watched enrapt as Jenny lifted up her dress and pulled her knickers down. That she didn't have any hair on her pussy surprised me. I could see her tight slit that disappeared between her butt cheeks. Her slit had a little sort of dimple at its top. Of course, at the time I knew nothing about female genitalia.
"You don't have any hair on your pussy." I told her.
"Silly, you don't know much about a girl's pussy do you. I'll grow hair as I get older. It's called puberty."
"Oh, okay," I replied. I remember getting very excited at what she did next.
Jenny opened her legs. She took her fingers and opened her soft pussy lips. Inside was bright pink and was smooth and glistened with moisture. I could see the thin wing-like folds of her inner labia with her small clitoris at the top and the little red hole at the bottom. She pushed her finger inside it.
"It's my vagina," Jenny said with a voice of authority, "and it's where babies come out after a man has put his penis in there."
I couldn't believe what I was seeing, and my cock was as hard as a rod inside my trousers.
"What's that little pink thing?" I asked naïvely.
"That's what I rub when I'm in bed at night to make me feel all tingly. I think it's called masturbating—at least that's what Dawn calls it."
"Your hole looks too small for my cock, Jenny."
"That's 'cause I'm not old enough yet," she said with a hint of sarcasm in her voice at my naïveté.
"Oh, okay," I said. I couldn't believe that my ten-year-old sister knew more about sex than I did.
"Okay, Ewan, now it's your turn," Jenny said as she pulled the hem of her dress back down.
I knelt, unhooked the two small chrome serpents heads of my elasticated snake belt and undid the buttons of my fly. I pulled both my trousers and my briefs down. As I did so, my cock sprang out causing a gasp to escape Jenny's lips.
"It's bigger than I thought it would be," Jenny remarked. "I've seen the bulge in your trousers. What's that piece of skin on the end?"
Ahah, my sister doesn't know everything about a cock. "That's called my foreskin," I replied, slightly disdainfully. I pulled my foreskin back revealing the helmet-shaped head.
Jenny pointed at my pee hole and asked, "Is that where you pee and where you spurt your semen from?"
Huh, maybe she knows more than I thought she did. "Uh-huh," I replied.
Can I touch it?" Jenny asked.
"Only if I can touch yours," I countered. "Tell you what, little sister. Let's go to the old mill where it's more private."
We crossed the river by the wooden bridge and headed for the millpond. The old flour mill had been deserted for as long as I could remember. Us kids used it as a sort of hangout When inside we went upstairs being careful where we walked as some of the old floorboards had rotted. Not two weeks ago, my friend Roger had put his foot through one. We found the room where there was a pile of old flour sacks. I looked at Jenny who had a wicked grin on her face. I would never have thought my ten-year-old sister could be so saucy.
Jenny ran and jumped on the flour sacks. In a flash, she pulled her summer dress over her head. I looked at her breasts—well they weren't anything like the ones I would wank to in Dad's magazine as they were like ten-times smaller. But in their own way, Jenny's tits were sexier. I guess in looking back they were just breast buds the size of grapes, but Jenny also had dome-shaped areolas. It was if she had breasts on top of breasts and the tiny nipples sat like little beads at the center of each areola.
"Why are you staring at my tits, Ewan? They're nowhere as big as the girls in the magazine."
"But yours are sexier, Jenny. I love your puffies?"
"Yeah, those little mounds on your breasts. I don't know their real name, but I've heard them called puffies."
"I noticed the other girls in the showers after P.E. looking at them. None of them had tits like mine. Most just had little circles of darker pink skin the size of farthings. You can touch mine if you like."
I wasted no time. I reached in and rubbed the pad of my finger around her small breast and was amazed to see that her puffy got bigger. Jenny had her eyes closed as I rubbed each of her small breasts in turn. My cock had never felt so hard inside my trousers. It was downright uncomfortable. I stopped rubbing Jenny's breasts.
"Hey, why did you stop? I was just starting to like that."
"Sorry, Sis, but my cock's uncomfortable. I gotta get out of my trousers."
I unbuckled my belt and undid the buttons of my fly. I dropped my trousers in the corner. Jenny was staring at the bulge in my briefs.
"You gonna take your underpants off?" she said.
"I will if you take your knickers off as well," I replied.
Jenny wasted no time, and soon she was naked. I pulled my briefs off and tossed them on top of her knickers.
"I get to touch yours first, Ewan," Jenny insisted.
"Okay," I replied and lay beside her.
My cock was lying flat on my stomach leaking precum. Jenny rubbed the end getting the sticky liquid on her finger. She rubbed her finger and thumb together feeling how slick the clear liquid was.
"Is this the stuff you spurt, your semen?"
"Dunno. It always leaks out when my cock gets hard."
"Feel kinda slick," Jenny said.
She put her hand around my shaft and squeezed. She said, "Wow! It's really hard, isn't it? But the skin feels kinda loose." She started to rub my shaft. "This is what my friend Dawn said her brother was doing when he spurted. Will you let me do it, Ewan . . . you know make you spurt?"
"I dunno, Sis. You said I could touch your pussy."
Jenny let go of my cock that slapped back against my stomach. She started giggling.
"That is so bloody funny, Ewan."
"When did you start swearing?"
"Me and Dawn swear all the time."
"Well, you better not let Mom or Dad hear you swear. C'mon, open your legs for me."
Jenny bent her knees and opened her legs. She parted her soft plump lips opening up her pussy for me. I reached in and put my finger at her opening.
"Can I put my finger inside you?"
"Uh-huh," she replied.
She gasped as I pushed my finger inside her vagina up to the first knuckle. I remember how it felt. She was tight and hot and quite wet. I thought she had peed and told her so.
"No silly," she replied. "That's so you can put your penis in without hurting me. it gets wet like that when I masturbate."
I started finger fucking my ten-year-old sister, but I was doing it too hard. She put her hand over mine and stopped me.
"Not as hard, Ewan," she said.
"Sorry, Jenny," I replied and started finger fucking her again but not as hard this time.
"This is what you would do if your penis was inside me," Jenny said as I continued fucking her with my finger. She had her eyes closed and was rubbing her clit with the pad of her finger. I thought I had hurt her when she climaxed and pulled my finger out of her. Her legs were trembling, and strange noises were coming out of her open mouth.
"Sorry, Jenny," I said. "I didn't mean to hurt you."
She opened her eyes and smiled. "You didn't hurt me, Ewan. I just had an orgasm."
"A what?" I asked naïvely.
"An orgasm. It's that nice tingly feeling I get when I masturbate. Don't you get one when you do it?"
"Oh, that! Yeah, I get them as well. I just didn't know what they were called."
"You gonna let me do you now since you made me cum?"
The thought of my sister rubbing my cock and making me cum had my whole body trembling with anticipation. "Okay, I guess," I replied.
I lay back while Jenny knelt beside me and took my cock in her small hand. Her fingers couldn't quite close around the shaft. She started stroking me, and I remember that the feeling was much, much better than when I did it. I was so excited at having seen and touched Jenny's pussy, that after just thirty seconds I climaxed. Jenny just stopped stroking me and watched in amazement as I spurted cum up in the air. It landed back on her fist. She held my cock as more spurted out. When I was done, she let go of my cock. I watched as she brought her hand to her nose and sniffed. Then she licked a little of it off her fist. Then to my utter amazement, she slurped it all off and swallowed it.
"Mmm, not bad. I thought it would taste icky," she said.
She cleaned her hand on one of the flour sacks. We got dressed and walked home.
"Can we do that again, Ewan?" she said as we crossed the wooden bridge.
"Yeah, that would be nice," I replied.
Jenny and I masturbated together and gave each other hand-jobs on and off for the next eighteen months. Then one day out of the blue, Jenny said, "You know, Ewan. Why don't you ask your friend Billy if he wants to meet us at the old mill this Saturday morning instead of going to the pictures."
I was shocked, to say the least. My twelve-year-old sister wants to jack-off my friend!
"I guess, if that's what you want, Jenny."
"Yeah, I think it'll be fun. You okay with watching? I can jack you off as well you know."
When I told Billy what my sister wanted to do, he could hardly believe it. At first, he thought I was pulling his leg, but after what I told him what Jenny and I had been doing the last eighteen months he got really excited. Billy was already at the mill when Jenny and I arrived.
"Hiya, Billy," Jenny said as we walked into the sack room as we called it.
"It's Jenny isn't it?"
"Yeah," Jenny replied. "You wanna take your trousers off?"
Billy stood there with his mouth open as Jenny pulled her dress over her head and tugged her knickers down.
"What you waiting for?" Jenny said to Billy who was staring at my sister's naked body. He couldn't take his eyes off her pussy.
"C'mon, Billy," I said, "get undressed."
Billy quickly pulled his trousers and underpants down and lay on the pile of sacks. Jenny knelt beside him and began stroking his hard cock. I fished my own cock out and stood and stroked it while I watched in amazement as my twelve-year-old sister jacked off one of my friends. Billy's bum was coming off the sacks as he reacted to Jenny stroking his cock. Then all of a sudden Billy grunted as he climaxed. Jenny stopped stroking his cock and watched as he spurted his cum all over her fist. His legs trembled, and his bum jerked as he rode his orgasm. When he was done, he watched as Jenny sucked his cream off her fist and swallowed it.
"You're next, Ewan," Jenny said nonchalantly.
I took my trousers and briefs off and lay down. Jenny started stroking my cock as Billy looked on in amazement. Then Jenny did something that surprised both me and Billy. She lowered her head over my cock and took its head inside her mouth. She held it there with her soft lips clamped to the underside of the head while she stroked me. The feeling of her tongue swirling around the head of my cock was too much. I felt my cock swell as I spurted my cum, flooding my sister's mouth.
She pulled off and stared coughing as my cum choked her. "Sorry, Ewan," she said, "I just wasn't ready for that. I'll be ready next time."
For the next two years, my twisted sister must have given blowjobs to six of my friends in the sack room of the old flour mill. I was seventeen and Jenny was fourteen when we first had intercourse. I asked her if she wanted to fuck Billy. What she said sort of surprised me.
"God, no, Ewan. I don't want to be labeled a slut."
Sara & Tommy
Mf 14, Mb 11, fb 14/11, bro/sis, oral, bi, con, stroke.
Thirty-four-year old Vic meets Sara in a local park. He is amazed at her appetite for sex and at his own enjoyment of sucking a boy's cock for the first time.
Word Count: 4,611
Date Published: Xxxx 00 20189
"Vic, if you don't suck his dick then you don't get to fuck me," Sara threatened. Her eleven-year-old brother Tommy stood watching us on my bed, rubbing his small stiff cock. His foreskin was pulled back exposing the shiny, pink, helmet-shaped head. Sara was sucking my cock like there was no tomorrow. She was by far the best cocksucker I had ever had, and I'd had a few. Tommy was watching his sister bob her head up and down on my cock while she stroked its shaft.
I'd never sucked anyone's cock let alone that of an eleven-year-old boy although if I was honest with myself, he did look appealing. He was completely hairless, and his cock was a decent size for his age. When I was his age, mine was about three inches long and about as fat as a Sharpie pen. Tommy's was a good four—almost five inches and certainly fatter than a Sharpie—more like one of those aluminum tubes in which expensive cigars come. Sara was right when she told me he had a decent sized dick.
It had taken me three weeks of persuasion, cajoling and downright begging to get Sara to come to my house. It was as if she was playing with me because I knew she wanted me to fuck her. Sara was gorgeous, with long brown hair that she kept in a high ponytail and grey-blue eyes. She told me she was fourteen but looked older and was tall for her age at five foot five. The second thing I noticed when I met her, apart from her beautiful face, were her tits. I couldn't take my eyes off the small swells in her cowl neck cotton top with beaded nipples poking the material since she rarely wore a bra.
She was developing sensuous curves; she already had the start of an hourglass figure and her ass was stupendous—two exquisite buttocks rising up from the small of her back. As she walked, they moved in sensual counterpoint inside her cotton shorts. Sara was the complete package.
The moment I laid eyes on her I knew I had to have her. I met her quite by accident. I was walking Mutt my dog in the park a half mile from my house when I saw her for the first time. She was walking toward me, and when she saw me, she smiled and stopped.
"I love your dog," she said as she stooped down to pet him, giving me a good look at the camel toe in the crotch of her lemon-yellow panties under her dress. "What kind is he?"
I told her, "The kind that will never win best in show at the Westminster Kennel Club."
"Huh?" she said.
"Let's just say his mother's breed was not the same as his father's. In other words, he's a mutt."
"Well, I think he's adorable," she said, rubbing his floppy ears.
"I could say the same thing about you."
She blushed a little. "What's his name?"
"But that's what you said he was, I wanted to know his name."
"That's right, and it's also his name—Mutt. And what's your name if I may ask?"
"Sara. And yours?"
"Vic," I replied proffering my hand. "Nice to meet you, Sara."
She shook my hand and asked, "You live around here?"
"Uh-huh, about half a mile back that way," I replied half-turning my head over my shoulder. "And you?"
"We just moved into an apartment over on Melrose Place."
"I know where that is. And who are we?"
"Mom and my eleven-year-old-brother, Tommy and me."
"You have a boyfriend, Sara?"
She huffed. "Boyfriend? I can't stand boys my age. They're so silly, and all they wanna do is grab my tits or get their hand down the front of my panties to feel my pussy. I prefer older men like you."
I was enjoying the heck out of this conversation. "Well, how do you know I don't want to cop a feel of your tits or get my hand down the front of your panties?"
She looked at me with her head tilted and the sort of look on her face that said 'you gotta be kiddin' me.'
"Vic, I'm pretty sure you want to, but I'm also sure you'd do it better."
"Can I ask how old you are?"
"Sure, I'm fourteen, why?"
Vic thought that the girl acted and talked older than her years. He told her so, "Because you talk and act a lot older."
"I've had a tough life. Dad died when I was young—never knew him really. And Mom has poor choices in the men she's dated. When she brought them home, and they saw me, it was obvious that they had more interest in fucking me than they did Mom. Mom couldn't see it though. You wouldn't believe the things they did to get me alone.
"One bozo asked Mom if he could spend the day while Mom worked—said he would look after Tommy and me. As soon as Mom had left, he came into my bedroom while I was getting dressed; he was stark naked. He said he just wanted a cuddle. Cuddle my ass! A swift kick in his nuts soon killed any interest he had of fucking me."
"What did your mother say?"
"I never told her. I said he stayed for a while and then took off. She never saw him again."
"I'm curious Sara. Why are you telling me all this?"
"I like you. And it's good to talk about shit like that since I've never told anyone before. Now if it had been you instead of the bozo. Well . . . "
"You're a very beautiful young lady Sara."
"I don't think so," she replied, as she touched the scar above her right eye. It looked like she had been cut with a knife or a razor; it was only an inch and a half long, and it split her eyebrow in two where no hair grew back on the scar tissue. I thought she was lucky not to lose an eye. It reminded me of Doctor No, the Ian Fleming book and movie of the same name. In the book, Honey Ryder had a disfigurement that, according to Bond, enhanced her beauty. In the movie, Ursula Andress had no such disfigurement. Sara's scar was nowhere near as severe as Honey Ryder's, but in its own way, it too enhanced her beauty. I decided not to ask how she got it.
"Sara, beauty comes not just from appearance but also your character."
"Hmm," was all she said.
"You have anywhere to go right now?" I asked.
"You hungry because I'm famished? I skipped breakfast to take Mutt for a walk, and I didn't know if you wanted to grab some lunch. There's a Burger King just around the corner."
"That sounds like a plan," she replied. "By the way how old are you Vic?"
"I'm thirty-four. Is that too old for you?"
"Hell no. As I said, I like older men."
I was beginning to like Sara a lot.
We talked some more as we sat in Burger King and ate lunch. We had to leave Mutt outside since they only allowed guide dogs inside the restaurant. The more we talked, the more I liked Sara. She could be witty one minute, a normal fourteen-year-old the next, and slutty the next. After half an hour or so, our conversation got more intimate which thrilled me no end. My cock was in a constant state of erection, and it was a good job we were sitting at a table.
"Can I ask a personal question, Sara?"
"Sure you can Vic."
I lowered my voice as I asked, "Are you a virgin?"
"No, I'm not. You wanna know how I lost my cherry?"
Damn straight I did. "Please."
"You might find this hard to believe, but I was ten years old."
"That IS young."
"Yeah, I know. But you have to understand that I've been a very sexual girl for as long as I can remember. I started masturbating when I was five after my older cousin Anna showed me how. The first time I got an orgasm, it was as if it flipped a switch in my brain. I thought there was something wrong with me as I couldn't get enough; I was friggin myself almost every night before going to sleep. If I didn't, I would toss and turn for half an hour before finally dropping off to sleep. I had to force myself to ration my cums as I was making myself sore."
"Jeez, I can imagine. When I discovered the joy of jacking off, I did it so much my cock was so sore too."
"My cousin Jason, who was fourteen at the time, came to stay with us while his mother had an operation. Mom had taken Tommy shopping for some clothes and Jason and me were fooling around on the living room floor. He was tickling me, and I don't know if it was by accident or not, but his hand found my crotch. He didn't remove it; his fingers started probing my pussy through the cotton of my panties. I was soon getting wet, and my pussy was throbbing.
"I told him that we should go to my bedroom. I watched as he got undressed; it was the first time I'd seen a guys dick for real. Oh, I'd seen my brother's, but at the time it was still tiny. He looked at me standing there staring at his dick. He wanted to know why I still had my clothes on. Not even my mother had seen me naked since I was eight years old. But the thrill of taking my clothes off in front of Jason as incredibly exciting.
"He wasn't very big, so it only hurt a little when he put his dick inside me. I think he'd done it before because he seemed to know what to do. I had an orgasm within thirty seconds; it was like no other I'd ever had, and at ten years old I'd had a lot."
"That's an interesting story. Would you like to know how I lost mine?"
"Love to. I like talking to you, Vic. You're easy to talk to, and I can't say that about a lot of men. The normal ones don't want to talk to a fourteen-year-old, and the ones who do are usually pervs—but you're no perv—well you know what I mean. I know you like young girls but you're not the type to try to do something I didn't want to do."
"I was thirteen at the time and my sister Janet was sixteen. We had been really close for a long time. She sort of took care of me as big sisters ten to do. She walked into my room one day while I was beating off. To say I was embarrassed was an understatement. I must have turned beet red since I felt my face was on fire.
"She didn't bat an eyelid; she just walked over to where I was lying on my bed and sat beside me. She took hold of my cock and started to jack me. I think I lasted ten seconds and shot my load all over her fist. After wiping her hand on my teeshirt, she got up and left. The strange thing is, she never spoke the whole time.
"Every time she looked at me the rest of that day she would smile, and I would blush. It became a regular thing when my folks were out of the house. She would come to my room, or I would go to hers. She taught me a lot about how to please a girl, and she was the recipient of quite a few orgasms from my finger and tongue. I got my first blowjob from Janet.
"I guess it was inevitable that we would have sex. It was probably at that time the most incredible experience I'd ever had. She made me pull out before I spurted since she didn't want to get pregnant."
"Did you have sex with her again after that?"
"We still have sex from time to time when she's between boyfriends or husbands as the case may be. She's on the pill now, so no more pulling out before I cum."
We finished our lunches and exchanged phone numbers before we parted. She was so sweet; she got on tiptoe and kissed me.
I didn't hear from Sara for a week and figured she had forgotten about me or had better things to do. Then on Saturday morning, I get a text asking me if we could have lunch. I replied that I would love to and asked her where. She texted back to meet outside Red Robin inside the mall at eleven. I was there at a quarter to and saw her walking toward me. She smiled when she saw me and quickened her pace.
She got on tiptoe and planting a sweet kiss on my lips. "Hey Vic, glad you could make it," she said.
"I was concerned when I didn't hear from you. I thought maybe you'd forgotten about me."
"Never," she said as she slipped her hand in mine. It was one of those intimate moments that told me I was more than just a lunch date. We found a booth near the window and as far away from the entrance as we could, and I was about to sit opposite when she moved along her bench; I sat next to her. Our server took our drinks order.
"These last weeks have been hectic, so I'm sorry I didn't contact you sooner. My brother Tommy's been pestering me to let him fuck me. I told him that he needed to wait as I was on my period. I think his hormones must be starting to affect him. I satisfied him for now with a quick blowjob."
I don't know why I sounded so surprised as the more I got to know Sara, the more I realized she was no ordinary fourteen-year-old-girl. In fact, if you could ignore her girlish figure and her age, you would think you were talking to a woman with a lot of sexual experiences.
I lowered my voice and moved closer to her. "You and your brother are having sex!?"
"Yeah, ever since he was eight. I used to suck his stiffies. He's only eleven, but he's got a decent-sized dick."
As she said it, I felt her hand on my thigh. She moved it higher and felt the bulge of my semi-erect cock that was on its way to a full erection due to the sexual nature of our conversation.
She squeezed my bulge. "I'm sure yours is a lot bigger though."
She kept her hand on my cock feeling it get bigger as our server, a very pretty green-eyed blonde took our food order. It was all I could do to remain calm.
"Sorry, Vic, couldn't resist it. After lunch can we go somewhere private."
"I could drive you to my house."
"Err, I don't think I'm ready for that just yet. Don't rush a girl; enjoy the chase."
After lunch, we walked to my pickup truck and drove out into the countryside. I found a quiet spot and parked. As soon as I killed the engine and took off my seatbelt, Sara slid over the bench seat and began unbuckling my belt. She pulled the zipper down, fished inside my boxers and pulled my cock out. She looked at it, pulling the foreskin back and rubbed her palm over the head smearing my precum.
"You've got a nice sized dick; it's definitely bigger than Tommy's."
"I would hope so since he's only eleven years old."
"You'll be surprised at how big it is when you see it."
I didn't follow up on that. As soon as her lips closed around my cockhead and started to suck, I was in seventh heaven. Boy, was she good, and I'm sure mine was not the first adult cock she'd sucked. I guess she got good practice sucking her brother's cock as well. I could honestly say, it was one of the best blowjobs I'd ever had.
Sara ran the gamut of techniques, from just sucking the head, to licking the shaft with her broad tongue from its root all the way to its tip. She licked my sensitive frenulum with the tip of her tongue that drove me crazy.
"You taste good Vic, thanks for showering this morning. I can't wait to taste your cum."
That last comment took me over the top. My cock swelled, and I pumped a good load of semen into Sara's waiting mouth. She quickly swallowed as I spurted more. After four or five spurts—I'd lost count I was so wrapped up in my euphoria—I was done. She squeezed the last drops of cum out of my cock, licked it off and swallowed.
"Mmm, yummy," she said as she licked her lips.
I unbuttoned her blouse and pulled it out of her shorts; she wore no bra, so I had free rein to suck on her petite tits. They were about a palm-full, and her areolas were nice and puffed. I took each breast in turn into my mouth and swirled my tongue around her nipple.
"God, you have a beautiful body, Sara."
As I sucked her breasts, I slipped my hand down and undid the snap of her jeans. She put her hand over mine.
"I'm on my period," she said.
"You wearing a tampon or pad?"
"Trust me on this okay?"
I unzipped her jeans and slipped my hand inside the waistband of her cotton panties, feeling the small patch of pubic hair high on the fleshy pad of her mons. As I touched her clit, her whole body shuddered. I pulled my hand out and wet my middle finger and dove back in where her little pink pearl was waiting to be polished and polish it I did.
She was moaning loudly, and her legs were jerking uncontrollably as I both pressed and rubbed her clit. My stimulation soon brought Sara to a very intense orgasm. Her butt came off the bench seat as she bucked my hand inside her panties. The inside of the cab was filled with Sara's moans, and cries as her orgasm overtook her.
"Good God Vic," she cried as she thrashed about. Finally, after a good minute, she started to calm; her legs still jerked a little, but they soon slowed and eventually stopped. Her ragged breathing returned to normal. I withdrew my hand from her panties, and she put her blouse back on and zipped up her jeans.
"I can't believe how intense that was," she said.
"I didn't know if it would be. I have given women orgasms while they were on their period, and some told me it was no more intense than their regular ones; some, like you, said it was more intense."
A week later, on a Saturday morning, Sara called me.
"Hey there, Vic, you wanna do stuff this evening?" She asked.
"What kinda stuff Sara?"
"Oh, I think we could maybe fuck some."
"You know I've wanted to do that ever since we met."
"Yeah, I know. I guess I've been teasing you."
"Yeah, you're a little cock teaser."
"That's okay, I sorta like it."
"I'd like to bring Tommy along if you don't mind. You can watch him fuck me for the first time."
My cock got rock hard at that thought. "Sure, it'll be fun."
I picked up Sara and her younger brother Tommy outside the mall at six on Saturday evening and drove them back to my house.
"Which way to your bedroom?" Sara asked, as soon as we were inside.
"Follow me," I replied.
Once inside my bedroom, Sara and Tommy began undressing. Soon we were all naked, and when I looked at Tommy he already had a nice hard-on; Sara was right, his cock was almost five inches long and quite fat. I had seen child pornography, and most boys his age had cocks the size of Sharpie pens; Tommy's was quite beautiful I thought—probably because he had no pubic hair.
"You wanna watch while I pop Tommy's cherry?"
"God yes, I'd love to," I replied.
Sara knelt in front of her brother and took his cock into her mouth and started to suck it. Because of its size, she could get all of it inside her mouth. I watched as Tommy, with his hands on his sister's shoulders, closed his eyes and enjoyed the sensation of having his cock sucked.
My cock was rock hard as I watched Sara fellate her little brother. After a minute she stopped and got onto my bed with her legs open. Tommy got between her legs. I sat next to them as Sara guided the head of his cock to her pussy and told him to push. As he did so, his cock easily slipped into his sister's pussy. He started fucking Sara while she stroked my cock.
"Kneel next to me Vic," she said a minute later, "I want your cock in my mouth."
I obliged, and she began to suck me. She would make noises with my cock on her mouth.
"Mmmmm," she would murmur from time to time.
I watched as Tommy enthusiastically fucked his sister. At first, he was a little awkward but soon settled into a good rhythm. He had his hands on Sara's hips as he thrust his cock in and out of her wet vagina. The look on his face as he chased his orgasm was priceless. I remembered the first time I had my cock inside a wet pussy so I knew what he was experiencing. Tommy snorted as he inhaled sharply, his body started jerking as he climaxed. Sara stopped sucking my cock and smiled.
"He just spurted a little inside me—I felt it," she said. "I can't wait to feel you cumming inside me."
We watched as Tommy pulled out of Sara's pussy, having just lost his virginity and shot his first load of cum inside a girl's pussy. He looked at us and smiled. I was amazed that he was still hard; his rod, glistening with Sara's juices, stood straight out.
"How was it?" Sara asked him as her brother's small amount of semen leaked out of her vagina.
He nodded vigorously.
"I can't believe he's still hard."
"Well go and suck it then," Sara said.
"Can't do that; I've never sucked a cock. When we were boys, we used to circle jerk, but we never touched each others' cocks."
"Vic, if you don't suck his dick then you don't get to fuck me," Sara threatened.
I reluctantly got off the bed; Tommy lay beside his sister, his cock standing straight up like a flagpole. I knelt beside the bed and took his decent-sized cock between my thumb and forefinger and began rubbing it. Amazed that I had a young boy's boner in my hand, I lowered my head and licked the end of his dick. I could taste Sara's pussy juice as well as a little salty cum.
"See, that wasn't too bad now was it, Vic?" Sara said. "Now go ahead and take it in your mouth."
I held Tommy's cock by its base and took all of it inside my mouth and began to suck it. I surprised myself by actually enjoying it. I wondered if he could climax again, so I started to stroke his shaft while I sucked. I looked up at Sara and Tommy kissing.
Suddenly Tommy froze, and I felt his butt jerk. His cock swelled and ejected a very small amount of his salty cum. He actually didn't taste too bad. I didn't much care to taste my own semen, but Sara loved to swallow it, so that's was all that mattered.
"Did he cum again?" she asked.
I took his cock out of my mouth, and it began to soften. "He sure did, and he spurted a little as well."
Sara leaned over and took her brother's softening cock in her mouth and began to suck him back to hardness again.
"No fucking way!" I said as I watched Sara make Tommy's cock hard again. "The kid's a stud. Girls are gonna go crazy over him."
Sara took her mouth off his cock, and I felt it, it was hard again and it stood straight up in the air. I climbed between Sara's legs and rubbed the head of my cock up and down her wet slit, pushing her red engorged labia aside. Tommy looked on, stroking his boner as I penetrated his big sister, stretching her vagina to its limit. I heard a small whimper as the head popped inside her wet opening.
"Gawd that feels good Vic. I've never been stretched that much before."
I knew Sara wasn't a virgin since I'd just seen her younger brother fuck her, but she had never had an adult cock inside her before—well not to my knowledge. I slowly started thrusting in and out of her very tight and very wet vagina, being as gentle as I could. She wrapped her long slender legs around my waist.
"You can fuck me a little harder now," she said after I had been fucking her for about five minutes.
I picked up the pace, and after a while, with my hands on her hips, I could feel her body start to jerk. A few minutes later she climaxed. She grabbed fistfuls of bed linen, and her head flopped from side to side on the pillow.
Tommy grabbed my arm and said, "Stop you're hurting her."
"No I'm not, Tommy, your sister is having an orgasm."
Tommy let go of my arm, but I stopped thrusting. Sara finally calmed down and opened her eyes.
"Fuck, that was good," she said. She felt my hardness inside her. "Don't spurt inside me, I don't want to get pregnant."
I started fucking her again, and in a short while, I felt the onset of my orgasm. I pulled out and started stroking my cock. The first rope of cum splashed onto Sara's small tits. By the time I was done, her whole chest was covered with my white liquid.
Sara looked down and smeared my cum all over her tummy and neck. "Fuck, Vic," she said, "I've never seen so much jizz."
Sara and I fucked each other on a regular basis. It was just the two of us since I never saw her brother again. A couple of months later, she managed to convince her mother to take her to the doctors to get a prescription for the birth control patch. Sara loved to feel me spurt inside her, although she was not enamored by the mess afterward. Our regular sex sessions ended when she went away to college. The last time we had sex was when she came home for Spring break in her Freshman year. A month later, I took a job on the opposite coast, and we never saw each other again, but I never forgot her or her brother.
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This story is a work of pure fiction. The author does not condone any sexual activity among persons under the legal age of consent. This story is copyright protected.
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