From Literotica.com by HeyAll
Part 1 of 4: The Pledge
Emily stood nervously
She was the youngest person in the room full of people. A fresh faced 18-year old who was new to the college system. Her hair was tied in a ponytail. Her thick framed glasses made her look like a nerd. But she tried to be unafraid. She tried to be strong and brave.
"Why should we allow you to pledge?" Morgan asked.
The room was filled with female college students who all stood in a circle. It was an intimidating feeling and a bead of sweat nearly formed on Emily's face.
"I should be admitted to this sorority because I believe that I am a highly qualified student. I have straight A's. I have done a lot of extracurricular activities. And I'm very easy to get along with."
Morgan raised an eyebrow. "Is that right?"
"Yes."
"You know, I probably could have learned all that by reading your application and other documents you've submitted. But I torn them up and threw them in the trash."
Emily gulped. "Why?"
"Because they're useless to me. Everyone knows you're here because your father is a wealthy businessman. Isn't that true?"
"It's true. But I believe I can make it on my own merits."
Morgan laughed. "Don't be naive, Emily. There's nothing wrong with nepotism and using family connections. Look around, Emily. You're in a prestigious university. Congratulations, you're an entitled brat."
Things were off to a rough start. Emily expected a friendly and courteous initiation. All her life, she was used to dealing with nice people.
But now, things were different. Her powerful family wasn't there to protect her. She was in a different world. A world of the sorority. A world that Morgan controlled.
"I don't think I understand," Emily said.
"It's simple. Unlike other sororities, our admission standards are very informal. Meaning, if we like you, you'll be accepted. So far, we like you. Most of us come from affluent backgrounds. We're a classy group."
Emily held back a smile. "Thank you."
"You're not a sister yet," Morgan added. "You must still pass the Ritual. And keep in mind, we can expel members easily. And for any reason."
"Okay," Emily sheepishly nodded.
"Now, be honest with us, why do you want to join the sorority?"
There was a sharp, yet disarming tone in Morgan's voice. It was clear that she wanted a non-bullshit answer. She expected the truth, or else there would be immediate consequences.
"I'd like to network. Being in a sorority looks great on a resume. I'd like to make connections for my future."
"And?" Morgan asked, eyebrow raised.
Emily tensed for a moment. "I've always wanted to hang out with the popular girls."
There was a brief moment of silence in the room.
Morgan smiled and took a few steps forward. "So, pretty little Emily wants to hang out with the popular girls. That can be arranged. But be careful what you wish for. You just might get it."
"I'll be ready for my duties as a new member," Emily replied, mustering her courage.
"Well, I guess we'll just have to find out when the Ritual begins."
"What happens during the Ritual?"
"You'll be informed when the time comes. But believe me, not every girl passes the Ritual. Only the most dedicated and loyal women are able to pass."
Emily gulped.
There was a tense feeling in the room as Morgan looked deep into Emily's eyes. Then came a smile from Morgan.
***
For the rest of the week, Emily focused hard on her classes. She was always a good student and a book smart person. Attending an ivy league university was daunting, but she tried her very best.
All the while, in the back of her mind, was the sorority. She had always wanted to befriend a popular crowd. Now here was her chance. The only problem was, she was familiar with the reputation that the sorority had. Dark rumors. Some rumors made her scared. Some rumors made her curious.
But she determined that she was willing to pay the price.
As her class ended, Emily headed back to the dorm with her books in hand, and the thick glasses worn proudly on her face. Outside the dorm area, she saw Morgan leaning against the entrance, looking as sexy as ever.
"Feel like going for a walk?" Morgan asked.
Emily smiled and nodded. "Sure."
After quickly putting her books back in the dorm, the two young ladies went for a slow leisurely walk around campus.
"Being in this sorority is a big deal," Morgan said, in a much more polite tone than their earlier meeting.
"I understand that."
"I'm serious. This sorority is something we take very seriously. We're sisters. We do everything together. We share our secrets. We even do charity work too."
Emily nodded. "I understand."
"And we also have fun together too. You know, the sorority kind of fun," Morgan said in a highly suggestive way.
The conversation took a serious turn, which Morgan was perfectly fine with. On the other hand, Emily clasped her hands together out of pure nervousness.
"I've heard the rumors," Emily replied.
"Tell me."
"Do I really have to say it?"
"I need to know if you're ready for this."
Emily took a deep breath. "I've heard about the naked rituals. You know, things like that."
"Things like what?"
Emily gulped. "Sex with fraternity members. Group encounters. That sort of stuff."
"And how does that make you feel?"
"I don't know."
"You don't?"
Emily thought for a moment. "It makes me feel nervous, honestly. Yet at the same time, it's a very arousing thought. Like it's a big fantasy, which I get to experience. We're in college to learn, right? I want to explore my boundaries."
"Thank you for the candor," Morgan replied. "We'll find out soon enough if you have what it takes."
"Are you referring to the Ritual?"
"Yes."
"What happens there?" Emily asked. "Please, just tell me already. I haven't been able to stop thinking about it.
"You'll find out soon enough."
Emily sighed, "Okay."
"By the way, you haven't told anyone our secret, have you?"
"No way."
"Good," Morgan smiled. "I don't want anyone knowing that we're actually step-sisters. I might be accused of being biased or lenient towards you. My reputation of being the biggest bitch on campus could be questioned."
"Will you be lenient with me then?"
Morgan laughed. "Don't be silly. Of course not. Since we're sisters, I'm going to be even more rigorous with you. You'll be well-trained by the time I'm done with you."
"You're kidding. Morgan, tell me you're joking."
"Em, you're a young woman now. Well, not just yet. It's my job now to make you a woman. A healthy, sexually active young woman. Believe me, you'll thank me once this is all over."
Emily shook her head. "I want the same treatment as everyone else."
"Too bad."
"You know, this might be unconstitutional," Emily pointed out.
Morgan shook her head. "Do you trust me?"
"I always trust you."
"This is for your own good. You're not as strong as the other girls. No offense, but you're a geek. A low self-confidence geek. However, that can change. I can give you the inner-strength you need. You just have to listen to me."
"How? By sucking a cock?" Emily asked incredulously.
"No. By sucking multiple cocks while people watch. Emily, let me ask you, have you ever been plowed in the ass?"
The thought made Emily shiver. "No."
"You have much to learn. But this conversation is irrelevant if you don't pass the Ritual first. Then we'll talk."
"Can you finally tell me what the Ritual is already? I need to know."
Morgan brought her lips to Emily's ear, then whispered. Emily's eyes widened in shock.
"Gosh..." Emily gasped.
"I told you, the sorority is no joke. We take it very seriously, and in order to conduct a proper admission, we have to know if you're dedicated. And we have to know if you can perform. Most of all, we have to know if you're loyal."
"Isn't there a simpler way?"
"Not with our sorority."
"Gosh, this better be worth it."
Morgan put her arm around Emily. "Wait and see. You'll be the biggest slut on campus when I'm done with you."
"Jeez..."
Showing posts with label Stories. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Stories. Show all posts
Sunday, December 27, 2015
Sunday, October 5, 2014
SUNDAY STORY: Sarah's New Life Chapter 1
From Literotica by Ghostwalker
Sarah sat at the kitchen table staring down at the stack of papers in front of her, the heading "Final Decree of Divorce" printed boldly across the top of each page. Tearstains covered the top page and her coffee had become cold, but still she sat and tried to figure out what had happened to her marriage.
She had met Phillip when she was 22 and working as a waitress, he was 36 and married with a 16 year old son. He had returned to college to get his Masters Degree in Business at a local university and routinely stopped after class for dinner before returning to his room to study. Though she knew it was a risk she started dating him after he assured her that things were over between him and his soon-to-be ex-wife. Sarah usually dated men her own age but none treated her like Phillip did. He had been the first true gentleman in her life. They went everywhere together and it seemed that there was nothing that they didn't enjoy together.
Finally, after 4 long months they made love for the first time. It had been fabulous. He had touched and caressed her most intimate parts, kissed her all over and made slow passionate love to her. When they finally fell asleep in each other's arms the sun was beginning to break through the window and Sarah knew she was in love.
After that first time she came to his room almost nightly. She would bring him a hot meal from work, and when he was done studying they would make love; sometimes slow and gentle and other time almost animalistic in its passion. After six months of living like this Phillip moved into Sarah's apartment with her as he continued to study and she worked to pay the growing bills for his education.
During Spring Break of his final semester they went to Florida together. While on a late evening walk on the beach he got down on bended knee under a starlit sky and proposed. Everything had been perfect. They were married in the August of that summer and Samuel moved in with them the following January. They had decided that it would be best if she stayed at home and took care of the house while Philip started working as an Assistant Manager at a local store. That had been 8 years ago. Now it was all over.
Phillip had been advanced quickly in the company and after only 4 years he had been promoted to Assistant Regional Manager. The hours had been long and the new job was stressful which Phillip seemed to bring into their bed when they made love. On those nights when his day had been good the sex was warm and loving but on the days when the stress reached a peak it was almost as if Sarah were nothing more than a means to reduce his tensions as he pounded into her.
Yet Sarah didn't say a word as she continued to support him. Then six months ago Phillip began staying at the office late into the evening more and more frequently. When Sarah asked he insisted it was because of recent staff cut-backs which had resulted in more work for him. He kept telling her that there just didn't seem to be enough hours in the day to do everything that he was required to do so he had to stay late.
Sarah had believed him until one evening when she had decided to try and rekindle some of the romance and passion that had been missing lately by bringing him a hot dinner. All those years and memories were now overshadowed by what she saw when she entered his office that evening.
The image of Phillip and his secretary fucking on his desk when she had walked in his office would be forever burned into Sarah's mind. Phillips eyes had been closed when she opened the door to his office and heard deep guttural sounds coming from him as he held his secretaries hips and pumped into her from behind.
Angelique was bent over the desk, her skirt up about her waist revealing a black garter belt with tan stockings and stiletto heels. Her panties were wrapped around her right ankle. The top buttons of her blouse were open and her large breasts hung out of a lacy black bra, while her nipples rubbed across the top to the desk with each thrust from Philip. The word 'whore' immediately popped to Sarah's mind yet for some reason she didn't say a thing as she continued to watch her husband and his secretary fucking.
Angelique had looked up when Sarah had opened the door and had given her a wicked, lust-filled smirk before speaking to Phillip. "Mmmmmm, that's it honey, fuck me nice and hard, pump into my cunt with your nice hard cock and make me cum. I love the way you feel inside me, I love feeling you cum inside me, filling me with your hot cum. Mmmmmmm, yesssssssss, that's it lover. Fuck me. Tell me how good it is. Tell me how good it feels to have my tight cunt wrapped around your cock. I'll bet your wife isn't this tight, is she? She probably still calls it a pussy but we know different don't we? When a man is driving his hard cock into his slut, it's a cunt. Isn't it lover? Cunt... cunt... cunt... cunt... ," Angelique continued repeating her last word over and over as Phillip drove his cock deep into her while she stared directly at Sarah.
Phillip grunted as he fucked her harder, thrilled by Angelique's words. "Yes, yes, yes, that's right baby. I love to fuck your tight, little cunt. It feels so good wrapped around my cock, and I love the way you talk so dirty and act like such a slut for me. Ohhhhh, only a slut like you knows how to fuck her man like you do. My wife could NEVER give me what you do."
That was all that Sarah could stand. She turned and ran from the room, tears filling her eyes.
Phillip didn't come home that night, but called late the next day. He said that Angelique had told him that she had seen them together in the office after they were done and that he was sorry she had to find out that way. Then he told her that the affair had been going on for quite sometime already and that he had talked to a lawyer that morning and was filing the papers for a divorce.
Now it was done. The divorce was final. Sarah got to keep the house and was going to be getting a generous amount each month for Samuel and her to live on. Originally, Phillip had stated that he wanted Samuel to live with him but after several months he suddenly changed his mind. Sarah was sure it had been at Angelique's request but said nothing.
When the paperwork had arrived that morning she had allowed herself one last cry before beginning to question what the future held for her along with a deep, driving desire to get revenge on Philip and Angelique.
Remembering that night in the office had awakened emotions and desires deep inside of Sarah that she had pushed down for years. As she thought back to it, Sarah found that it actually aroused her. The sight of Phillip and Angelique fucking like animals, the way Angelique had dressed, acted and talked like such a slut, and the way that Phillip had fucked her so hard and deep, made Sarah's body react and release a rush of juices to coat her pussy. It had been months now since she had felt a man inside of her and she desperately needed one, but who?
Sarah was still fantasizing about the various possibilities when she heard the front door open.
Looking at the clock she knew it must be Samuel returning from the mall with his friend Matt. Rising from the table she quickly stuffed the divorce papers in the drawer before heading towards the living room to see if they had enjoyed themselves. As she drew near she began to overhear their conversation and her pace slowed.
"Your old man is such a fuck. I can't believe he'd do something like that to you."
Sarah recognized Matt's voice and wondered what had happened but waited to hear what Samuel had to say.
Sarah sat at the kitchen table staring down at the stack of papers in front of her, the heading "Final Decree of Divorce" printed boldly across the top of each page. Tearstains covered the top page and her coffee had become cold, but still she sat and tried to figure out what had happened to her marriage.
She had met Phillip when she was 22 and working as a waitress, he was 36 and married with a 16 year old son. He had returned to college to get his Masters Degree in Business at a local university and routinely stopped after class for dinner before returning to his room to study. Though she knew it was a risk she started dating him after he assured her that things were over between him and his soon-to-be ex-wife. Sarah usually dated men her own age but none treated her like Phillip did. He had been the first true gentleman in her life. They went everywhere together and it seemed that there was nothing that they didn't enjoy together.
Finally, after 4 long months they made love for the first time. It had been fabulous. He had touched and caressed her most intimate parts, kissed her all over and made slow passionate love to her. When they finally fell asleep in each other's arms the sun was beginning to break through the window and Sarah knew she was in love.
After that first time she came to his room almost nightly. She would bring him a hot meal from work, and when he was done studying they would make love; sometimes slow and gentle and other time almost animalistic in its passion. After six months of living like this Phillip moved into Sarah's apartment with her as he continued to study and she worked to pay the growing bills for his education.
During Spring Break of his final semester they went to Florida together. While on a late evening walk on the beach he got down on bended knee under a starlit sky and proposed. Everything had been perfect. They were married in the August of that summer and Samuel moved in with them the following January. They had decided that it would be best if she stayed at home and took care of the house while Philip started working as an Assistant Manager at a local store. That had been 8 years ago. Now it was all over.
Phillip had been advanced quickly in the company and after only 4 years he had been promoted to Assistant Regional Manager. The hours had been long and the new job was stressful which Phillip seemed to bring into their bed when they made love. On those nights when his day had been good the sex was warm and loving but on the days when the stress reached a peak it was almost as if Sarah were nothing more than a means to reduce his tensions as he pounded into her.
Yet Sarah didn't say a word as she continued to support him. Then six months ago Phillip began staying at the office late into the evening more and more frequently. When Sarah asked he insisted it was because of recent staff cut-backs which had resulted in more work for him. He kept telling her that there just didn't seem to be enough hours in the day to do everything that he was required to do so he had to stay late.
Sarah had believed him until one evening when she had decided to try and rekindle some of the romance and passion that had been missing lately by bringing him a hot dinner. All those years and memories were now overshadowed by what she saw when she entered his office that evening.
The image of Phillip and his secretary fucking on his desk when she had walked in his office would be forever burned into Sarah's mind. Phillips eyes had been closed when she opened the door to his office and heard deep guttural sounds coming from him as he held his secretaries hips and pumped into her from behind.
Angelique was bent over the desk, her skirt up about her waist revealing a black garter belt with tan stockings and stiletto heels. Her panties were wrapped around her right ankle. The top buttons of her blouse were open and her large breasts hung out of a lacy black bra, while her nipples rubbed across the top to the desk with each thrust from Philip. The word 'whore' immediately popped to Sarah's mind yet for some reason she didn't say a thing as she continued to watch her husband and his secretary fucking.
Angelique had looked up when Sarah had opened the door and had given her a wicked, lust-filled smirk before speaking to Phillip. "Mmmmmm, that's it honey, fuck me nice and hard, pump into my cunt with your nice hard cock and make me cum. I love the way you feel inside me, I love feeling you cum inside me, filling me with your hot cum. Mmmmmmm, yesssssssss, that's it lover. Fuck me. Tell me how good it is. Tell me how good it feels to have my tight cunt wrapped around your cock. I'll bet your wife isn't this tight, is she? She probably still calls it a pussy but we know different don't we? When a man is driving his hard cock into his slut, it's a cunt. Isn't it lover? Cunt... cunt... cunt... cunt... ," Angelique continued repeating her last word over and over as Phillip drove his cock deep into her while she stared directly at Sarah.
Phillip grunted as he fucked her harder, thrilled by Angelique's words. "Yes, yes, yes, that's right baby. I love to fuck your tight, little cunt. It feels so good wrapped around my cock, and I love the way you talk so dirty and act like such a slut for me. Ohhhhh, only a slut like you knows how to fuck her man like you do. My wife could NEVER give me what you do."
That was all that Sarah could stand. She turned and ran from the room, tears filling her eyes.
Phillip didn't come home that night, but called late the next day. He said that Angelique had told him that she had seen them together in the office after they were done and that he was sorry she had to find out that way. Then he told her that the affair had been going on for quite sometime already and that he had talked to a lawyer that morning and was filing the papers for a divorce.
Now it was done. The divorce was final. Sarah got to keep the house and was going to be getting a generous amount each month for Samuel and her to live on. Originally, Phillip had stated that he wanted Samuel to live with him but after several months he suddenly changed his mind. Sarah was sure it had been at Angelique's request but said nothing.
When the paperwork had arrived that morning she had allowed herself one last cry before beginning to question what the future held for her along with a deep, driving desire to get revenge on Philip and Angelique.
Remembering that night in the office had awakened emotions and desires deep inside of Sarah that she had pushed down for years. As she thought back to it, Sarah found that it actually aroused her. The sight of Phillip and Angelique fucking like animals, the way Angelique had dressed, acted and talked like such a slut, and the way that Phillip had fucked her so hard and deep, made Sarah's body react and release a rush of juices to coat her pussy. It had been months now since she had felt a man inside of her and she desperately needed one, but who?
Sarah was still fantasizing about the various possibilities when she heard the front door open.
Looking at the clock she knew it must be Samuel returning from the mall with his friend Matt. Rising from the table she quickly stuffed the divorce papers in the drawer before heading towards the living room to see if they had enjoyed themselves. As she drew near she began to overhear their conversation and her pace slowed.
"Your old man is such a fuck. I can't believe he'd do something like that to you."
Sarah recognized Matt's voice and wondered what had happened but waited to hear what Samuel had to say.
Sunday, August 24, 2014
SUNDAY STORY: Sisters, Friends, And Lovers
From Literotica by SteveWallace
Discovering they were sisters
I didn't know they were sisters when I started dating them.
I was thirty-three, and the girls were a couple of years younger, but with different birthdays about six months apart. I met Fran at a graduation party of a friend finishing his MBA, and Sheila at a Sunday afternoon birthday party in Marblehead. Stepsisters as it turned out, but they'd been together for so long, they didn't bother to use the 'step' word.
Sheila was a tall, lanky blond with a passionate streak I just knew I wanted to tap into someday soon. Making out with her made you feel like you were flirting with a volcano about to blow. We'd start slow, just a kiss or two, and then suddenly there she was in my lap with her tongue down my throat and her hands doing interesting things to both our bodies.
Fran was a short brunette with a determination to do everything she did perfectly, including making her boyfriend (me) happy. When we started making out, I felt she was searching and learning at the same time. Searching for the places and techniques that would turn us both on to the perfection she desired in our relationship, and learning and memorizing these places and techniques so she could invoke them later. She got me thinking the same way.
I had been open with the two of them about not being exclusive. After a few get to know you dates, I had standing dates with Sheila for Tuesday and Friday nights, and with Fran for Wednesday and Saturday nights. Sundays I seemed to alternate between the two of them. While I didn't talk about one with the other, I made it obvious to each of them that I'd been on other dates with someone else. For instance, Sheila and I saw the movie Gravity one night; the next night Fran wanted to see it too, however, I explained that I'd just seen it the night before with another 'friend.' I guess I wanted to emphasize the fact that I dated others; she didn't pursue the matter, and we ended up seeing another movie.
I am a romantic at heart. We went on a healthy diet of candlelight dinners, flowers, carriage rides, dancing - sometimes in my small but exceptionally neat and polished Cambridge apartment, and of course stimulating discussions when we were in public, for instance walking arm in arm along Boylston Street in Boston on a hot summer evening. We were learning about one another, and on that front I was very open. Thinking back on it, I was looking for long-term relationship and a marriage partner.
My relationship with Sheila ran parallel with the one I had with Fran on a nearly day-by-day basis. Week One, after meeting at a party, I called and we agreed to do coffee a few days later, had several get to know you dates over coffee and lunch near our work, and agreed to something more significant a week or so later.
We enjoyed some simple kisses together, but nothing to write home about other than it was clear we were comfortable with each other.
Week Two, we advanced to making out with each other and I could tell we were both feeling great resonance with each other. We found we shared many common interests, yet had a few that were independent of each other. By the end of the week we'd smothered first base with a huge load of French kisses and nearly constant physical contact, although I was ready to dispense with some of our clothing.
Week Three, we got to second base with each other. For those of you unfamiliar with the baseball analogy in dating, that meant that we started to pet in a way that stimulated some of the sexual parts of our bodies, more specifically Sheila's (and the next night, Fran's) breasts and my crotch, although everything was perpetrated outside of our clothing. Damn.
Week Four, we got under each other's clothing and even bared some of our usually hidden skin to each other. I peeled Sheila's top up around her neck so I could lick and suck on her breasts, and she opened my fly so she could fondle and arouse my cock to her heart's content. I ended with blue balls I had to contend with when I got home from our date.
Week Five, Sheila surprised the hell out of me when she went down on me, giving me a somewhat amateurish blowjob, but I was in no position to complain. I acted the gentleman and warned her of my impending climax, a move that allowed her a graceful retreat, as she finished the act with a masterful handjob. This was all accomplished on the sofa in my small apartment. When I offered to return the favor, Sheila made out with me for a bit and said, "Maybe next week. Let's not rush things." I accepted this slow rate of progress as the price to pay for being with this pretty young woman who was definitely long-term material.
I'd fallen in love with Fran and Sheila, but not told either one. I think they felt the same about me too. Most guys would decide on one or the other, but I not only couldn't, I didn't want to because to pick one would mean I had to do without the other. Fran or Sheila. Sheila or Fran. When I was with one, I worried about the other. I wanted to be inclusive with both of them.
Week Six, I seduced Sheila (and Fran) into allowing me to perform oral sex on them. We'd made it to third base. I felt myself reasonably skilled in the techniques of cunnilingus, so once I had her permission I truly made love to her pussy delivering multiple orgasms one after another. We were both nude, and I got another blowjob, this time to completion. My date with Fran went along in parallel.
Sheila and I had avoided using the 'L' word with each other up until that time. In the heat of her fifth orgasm of the night, Sheila said, "Oh, God, Steve, I love what you're doing to me. I'm falling in love with you." Amazingly, Fran said nearly the same words in the same situation the following night.
The fact is I was falling hard for Sheila, and simultaneously I was falling for Fran. I started to feel conflicted, knowing that soon I would have to make up my mind about the two women, picking one to focus upon and to date exclusively. Even at this stage, however, neither Sheila nor Fran suggested exclusivity.
As soon as that thinking permeated my brain, another side of me would argue that I was too young, or indecisive, or afraid to make a mistake, or something, to pick one of the two at this stage. I kept hearing one of the voices on my shoulder telling me to keep insisting on non-exclusivity, and keep dating the two of them, and for that matter any other woman that might appeal to me. Any downside to that philosophy hadn't occurred to me.
That devil on my shoulder would convince me that at my age, I wasn't ready to settle down or make a lifetime commitment with anyone, and that I had plenty of time to eventually find a life partner, start a family, and do 'adult' things. Both Sheila and Fran qualified as 'keepers' in my long-term plan, and one of them indeed might end up the Mrs. if things progressed nicely.
The gods are fickle and laugh at us mortals. I had a comfortable bachelor life, dated two of the most gorgeous women on the east coast, had an excellent job that paid well and that I found exciting, and had a larger circle of friends I enjoyed. Hubris is a word from the Greek tragedies implying excessive pride or defiance of the gods leading to inescapable downfall and humiliation.
Things reached a turning point the following Saturday night.
Discovering they were sisters
I didn't know they were sisters when I started dating them.
I was thirty-three, and the girls were a couple of years younger, but with different birthdays about six months apart. I met Fran at a graduation party of a friend finishing his MBA, and Sheila at a Sunday afternoon birthday party in Marblehead. Stepsisters as it turned out, but they'd been together for so long, they didn't bother to use the 'step' word.
Sheila was a tall, lanky blond with a passionate streak I just knew I wanted to tap into someday soon. Making out with her made you feel like you were flirting with a volcano about to blow. We'd start slow, just a kiss or two, and then suddenly there she was in my lap with her tongue down my throat and her hands doing interesting things to both our bodies.
Fran was a short brunette with a determination to do everything she did perfectly, including making her boyfriend (me) happy. When we started making out, I felt she was searching and learning at the same time. Searching for the places and techniques that would turn us both on to the perfection she desired in our relationship, and learning and memorizing these places and techniques so she could invoke them later. She got me thinking the same way.
I had been open with the two of them about not being exclusive. After a few get to know you dates, I had standing dates with Sheila for Tuesday and Friday nights, and with Fran for Wednesday and Saturday nights. Sundays I seemed to alternate between the two of them. While I didn't talk about one with the other, I made it obvious to each of them that I'd been on other dates with someone else. For instance, Sheila and I saw the movie Gravity one night; the next night Fran wanted to see it too, however, I explained that I'd just seen it the night before with another 'friend.' I guess I wanted to emphasize the fact that I dated others; she didn't pursue the matter, and we ended up seeing another movie.
I am a romantic at heart. We went on a healthy diet of candlelight dinners, flowers, carriage rides, dancing - sometimes in my small but exceptionally neat and polished Cambridge apartment, and of course stimulating discussions when we were in public, for instance walking arm in arm along Boylston Street in Boston on a hot summer evening. We were learning about one another, and on that front I was very open. Thinking back on it, I was looking for long-term relationship and a marriage partner.
My relationship with Sheila ran parallel with the one I had with Fran on a nearly day-by-day basis. Week One, after meeting at a party, I called and we agreed to do coffee a few days later, had several get to know you dates over coffee and lunch near our work, and agreed to something more significant a week or so later.
We enjoyed some simple kisses together, but nothing to write home about other than it was clear we were comfortable with each other.
Week Two, we advanced to making out with each other and I could tell we were both feeling great resonance with each other. We found we shared many common interests, yet had a few that were independent of each other. By the end of the week we'd smothered first base with a huge load of French kisses and nearly constant physical contact, although I was ready to dispense with some of our clothing.
Week Three, we got to second base with each other. For those of you unfamiliar with the baseball analogy in dating, that meant that we started to pet in a way that stimulated some of the sexual parts of our bodies, more specifically Sheila's (and the next night, Fran's) breasts and my crotch, although everything was perpetrated outside of our clothing. Damn.
Week Four, we got under each other's clothing and even bared some of our usually hidden skin to each other. I peeled Sheila's top up around her neck so I could lick and suck on her breasts, and she opened my fly so she could fondle and arouse my cock to her heart's content. I ended with blue balls I had to contend with when I got home from our date.
Week Five, Sheila surprised the hell out of me when she went down on me, giving me a somewhat amateurish blowjob, but I was in no position to complain. I acted the gentleman and warned her of my impending climax, a move that allowed her a graceful retreat, as she finished the act with a masterful handjob. This was all accomplished on the sofa in my small apartment. When I offered to return the favor, Sheila made out with me for a bit and said, "Maybe next week. Let's not rush things." I accepted this slow rate of progress as the price to pay for being with this pretty young woman who was definitely long-term material.
I'd fallen in love with Fran and Sheila, but not told either one. I think they felt the same about me too. Most guys would decide on one or the other, but I not only couldn't, I didn't want to because to pick one would mean I had to do without the other. Fran or Sheila. Sheila or Fran. When I was with one, I worried about the other. I wanted to be inclusive with both of them.
Week Six, I seduced Sheila (and Fran) into allowing me to perform oral sex on them. We'd made it to third base. I felt myself reasonably skilled in the techniques of cunnilingus, so once I had her permission I truly made love to her pussy delivering multiple orgasms one after another. We were both nude, and I got another blowjob, this time to completion. My date with Fran went along in parallel.
Sheila and I had avoided using the 'L' word with each other up until that time. In the heat of her fifth orgasm of the night, Sheila said, "Oh, God, Steve, I love what you're doing to me. I'm falling in love with you." Amazingly, Fran said nearly the same words in the same situation the following night.
The fact is I was falling hard for Sheila, and simultaneously I was falling for Fran. I started to feel conflicted, knowing that soon I would have to make up my mind about the two women, picking one to focus upon and to date exclusively. Even at this stage, however, neither Sheila nor Fran suggested exclusivity.
As soon as that thinking permeated my brain, another side of me would argue that I was too young, or indecisive, or afraid to make a mistake, or something, to pick one of the two at this stage. I kept hearing one of the voices on my shoulder telling me to keep insisting on non-exclusivity, and keep dating the two of them, and for that matter any other woman that might appeal to me. Any downside to that philosophy hadn't occurred to me.
That devil on my shoulder would convince me that at my age, I wasn't ready to settle down or make a lifetime commitment with anyone, and that I had plenty of time to eventually find a life partner, start a family, and do 'adult' things. Both Sheila and Fran qualified as 'keepers' in my long-term plan, and one of them indeed might end up the Mrs. if things progressed nicely.
The gods are fickle and laugh at us mortals. I had a comfortable bachelor life, dated two of the most gorgeous women on the east coast, had an excellent job that paid well and that I found exciting, and had a larger circle of friends I enjoyed. Hubris is a word from the Greek tragedies implying excessive pride or defiance of the gods leading to inescapable downfall and humiliation.
Things reached a turning point the following Saturday night.
Sunday, August 17, 2014
SUNDAY STORY: All Revved Up
From Literotica by riverboy
I took a big gulp of water from the wet plastic bottle, and set it back down in the cup holder of my lawn chair. The hot sun was beating down, slowly cooking my legs and bare chest, and the sound of quiet voices passing by was lulling me to sleep.
"You look awfully cute in that straw hat Bobby," a familiar female voice said.
I opened my eyes and saw Patty, a fellow member of a local car club I'm a part of. She and her husband Bill have a nice '89 Mazda Miata, and mine's a '90 with suspension upgrades, fat tires, a roll bar, and other 'go fast' goodies. It's a local Miata club that I joined a few months ago, and some of us were spending this beautiful hot summer day at a big car show on the grassy field of the local fairgrounds.
"Patty! I didn't see you guys come in," I said.
"We got a late start, so we're down the row a ways from the rest of you guys," she said. "I see Carrie's and Jenny's cars. Anybody else come out today?"
"No, I think just the four of us today from our little club," I said. "Good turnout in general though — there must be six or seven hundred cars here."
"Yeah, a lot of oldies and street rods," she said. "I'm gonna go find Bill and check it all out. Wanna come?"
"I just had a long walk around, but I'll take any excuse to walk behind you in those shorts for a while," I said with a wink.
"Naughty!" Patty said flirtatiously, and she walked off in front of me with an exaggerated wiggle. She looked back and giggled as I jumped up out of my chair and followed.
Patty was a cutie, and often flirtatious, even when her husband Bill was around. He never seemed to mind, and often encouraged it, which made me wonder what kind of marriage and sex life they had. She seemed like the kind of woman who would be great in bed, and she always left me wishing I could find a woman just like her. I was fifty years old, five years into a divorced and 'single again' life, and more often than not resigned to the fact that finding someone like her probably wasn't gonna happen.
Actually, dating was one of the reasons I joined the club. Miatas have a reputation as a 'chick car,' at least here in the States, and after I bought mine I heard through the grapevine that the car club had a lot of single women in it, which is unusual. I'm not really a 'club' kinda guy — I've owned old British sports cars most of my life and never joined the club or took them to shows — but in a moment of weakness, and with the prospect of meeting some women, I joined, and it's been nothing but fun ever since. There are indeed quite a few single women members, and the rest are married couples and me. I guess all the single guys are out driving their Corvettes and proving their manhood. Whatever.
We gathered up Bill and Carrie and Jenny, and we walked the grounds looking at all the cool cars. Carrie and Jenny were no slouches in the ass department either, and Bill and I walked behind the three lovely ladies the whole way around. At the far end of the field we sat at a picnic table under a big umbrella and ate hotdogs and french fries.
"So Patty and I were thinking of trying to put together a road trip weekend for the club," Bill said as we relaxed in the shade and sipped lemonade. "You three are the most likely to join in to special events, so I thought I'd bring it up today and give you a heads-up before I talk about it at the next meeting. We're thinking Green Mountains maybe? There's a new resort up there that's got some good deals to encourage people to try it. They've probably got a nice hot tub."
"Oo la la!" Patty said with a sexy smile.
"I'm afraid I won't be responsible for my actions if I'm in a hot tub with you three ladies," I said.
"I certainly hope not," Patty said flirtatiously, and Carrie and Jenny laughed nervously.
I'd noticed on numerous occasions they both seemed to envy Patty's easy flirtatious manner. I wouldn't go so far as to call them uptight, but neither of them was flirtatious or openly sexual in any way. They dressed rather conservatively, and never talked of dating even though I knew they were both single. They were both cute though, and I had often thought about asking them out on a date, but I got stuck in the mental trap of not knowing which one to ask out and wondering if I'd hurt the feelings of the other one, so I thought I'd get to know them both better and let things play out naturally.
As we finished our lemonades we all agreed that a road trip to the mountains would be fun, and we'd sort out a good weekend for the five of us before Bill brought the idea to the club meeting. As we walked away from the table Patty whispered in the other girls ears and they all put an exaggeration in their ass wiggle.
"Those rear ends look like they'll take some torque, huh Bobby?" Bill said to me as we walked behind them.
"Sure do. Limited slip do you think?" I asked.
"I think they're the standard kind. Slipping's half the fun anyways, don't you think?"
"Absolutely," I said. "Beautiful bumpers on 'em too."
The girls all giggled, and Carrie and Jenny blushed crimson red.
——————————
Two months later, on a sunny Friday morning at the peak of fall foliage season, a convoy of four Miatas was on the road heading for the Green Mountains. Two other couples wanted to join us, but the scheduling was bad for one of them, and the others backed out at the last minute due to a medical emergency. We promised them we'd do it again in the spring if we liked the resort.
I had wondered if Carrie or Jenny would bring a date or a friend, but they were both stag, as was I. It was just as well — the five of us got along wonderfully and we all knew it would be a fun weekend.
We stopped at a roadside diner for lunch, and Patty wasted no time with the flirting.
"So Bill and I splurged and got a big suite," she said. "The pictures look amazing — it's got a private hot tub on a balcony overlooking the mountains. They told me it's big enough for six people..."
"I saw that suite on their website," I said. "You guys are livin' large this weekend."
"We thought it would be nicer than a public hot tub," Bill said. "Strangers can be fun, but close friends are better."
I was definitely getting a vibe of 'open marriage togetherness' from Bill and Patty. I wasn't quite sure what to say, and Carrie and Jenny were both silent as well. After an awkward pause we talked cars and laughed through the rest of lunch. We decided to get off the highway and take back roads the last hundred miles, which was a great decision. It had warmed up enough to put the tops down, and the drive was spectacular, with stops at scenic overlooks and a short side trip to a beautiful waterfall. We arrived at the resort all smiles.
"I think that's the nicest drive I've ever been on," Jenny said.
"It's so beautiful up here. And this place looks awesome!" Carrie said as we walked in to register.
The resort was first class, and our rooms were perfect, all close together on the same hallway, with beautiful views of the mountains.
"Happy hour at six in our room, dinner at eight downstairs?" Patty asked, and we all went to our rooms to clean up.
Knowing it was a nice resort I brought good clothes, and I'm glad I did. The girls, it turned out, had conspired and decided to dress up for the evenings.
"Wow!" I said when I saw Carrie and Jenny in the hallway. "For a couple of car girls you clean up nice!"
They both had on little cocktail dresses — Carrie's black and Jenny's dark red — and stockings and high heels. Their formerly windblown hair was brushed and fluffed, and for the first time since I had known them they had noticeable makeup on.
"Holy cow!" I said, somewhat stunned by their sexy eyes when my gaze made it up that far.
"Not to bad yourself," Carrie said to me with a smile.
"I guess our little shopping trip was worth it," Jenny said, clearly pleased at the effect they were having on me.
I took a big gulp of water from the wet plastic bottle, and set it back down in the cup holder of my lawn chair. The hot sun was beating down, slowly cooking my legs and bare chest, and the sound of quiet voices passing by was lulling me to sleep.
"You look awfully cute in that straw hat Bobby," a familiar female voice said.
I opened my eyes and saw Patty, a fellow member of a local car club I'm a part of. She and her husband Bill have a nice '89 Mazda Miata, and mine's a '90 with suspension upgrades, fat tires, a roll bar, and other 'go fast' goodies. It's a local Miata club that I joined a few months ago, and some of us were spending this beautiful hot summer day at a big car show on the grassy field of the local fairgrounds.
"Patty! I didn't see you guys come in," I said.
"We got a late start, so we're down the row a ways from the rest of you guys," she said. "I see Carrie's and Jenny's cars. Anybody else come out today?"
"No, I think just the four of us today from our little club," I said. "Good turnout in general though — there must be six or seven hundred cars here."
"Yeah, a lot of oldies and street rods," she said. "I'm gonna go find Bill and check it all out. Wanna come?"
"I just had a long walk around, but I'll take any excuse to walk behind you in those shorts for a while," I said with a wink.
"Naughty!" Patty said flirtatiously, and she walked off in front of me with an exaggerated wiggle. She looked back and giggled as I jumped up out of my chair and followed.
Patty was a cutie, and often flirtatious, even when her husband Bill was around. He never seemed to mind, and often encouraged it, which made me wonder what kind of marriage and sex life they had. She seemed like the kind of woman who would be great in bed, and she always left me wishing I could find a woman just like her. I was fifty years old, five years into a divorced and 'single again' life, and more often than not resigned to the fact that finding someone like her probably wasn't gonna happen.
Actually, dating was one of the reasons I joined the club. Miatas have a reputation as a 'chick car,' at least here in the States, and after I bought mine I heard through the grapevine that the car club had a lot of single women in it, which is unusual. I'm not really a 'club' kinda guy — I've owned old British sports cars most of my life and never joined the club or took them to shows — but in a moment of weakness, and with the prospect of meeting some women, I joined, and it's been nothing but fun ever since. There are indeed quite a few single women members, and the rest are married couples and me. I guess all the single guys are out driving their Corvettes and proving their manhood. Whatever.
We gathered up Bill and Carrie and Jenny, and we walked the grounds looking at all the cool cars. Carrie and Jenny were no slouches in the ass department either, and Bill and I walked behind the three lovely ladies the whole way around. At the far end of the field we sat at a picnic table under a big umbrella and ate hotdogs and french fries.
"So Patty and I were thinking of trying to put together a road trip weekend for the club," Bill said as we relaxed in the shade and sipped lemonade. "You three are the most likely to join in to special events, so I thought I'd bring it up today and give you a heads-up before I talk about it at the next meeting. We're thinking Green Mountains maybe? There's a new resort up there that's got some good deals to encourage people to try it. They've probably got a nice hot tub."
"Oo la la!" Patty said with a sexy smile.
"I'm afraid I won't be responsible for my actions if I'm in a hot tub with you three ladies," I said.
"I certainly hope not," Patty said flirtatiously, and Carrie and Jenny laughed nervously.
I'd noticed on numerous occasions they both seemed to envy Patty's easy flirtatious manner. I wouldn't go so far as to call them uptight, but neither of them was flirtatious or openly sexual in any way. They dressed rather conservatively, and never talked of dating even though I knew they were both single. They were both cute though, and I had often thought about asking them out on a date, but I got stuck in the mental trap of not knowing which one to ask out and wondering if I'd hurt the feelings of the other one, so I thought I'd get to know them both better and let things play out naturally.
As we finished our lemonades we all agreed that a road trip to the mountains would be fun, and we'd sort out a good weekend for the five of us before Bill brought the idea to the club meeting. As we walked away from the table Patty whispered in the other girls ears and they all put an exaggeration in their ass wiggle.
"Those rear ends look like they'll take some torque, huh Bobby?" Bill said to me as we walked behind them.
"Sure do. Limited slip do you think?" I asked.
"I think they're the standard kind. Slipping's half the fun anyways, don't you think?"
"Absolutely," I said. "Beautiful bumpers on 'em too."
The girls all giggled, and Carrie and Jenny blushed crimson red.
——————————
Two months later, on a sunny Friday morning at the peak of fall foliage season, a convoy of four Miatas was on the road heading for the Green Mountains. Two other couples wanted to join us, but the scheduling was bad for one of them, and the others backed out at the last minute due to a medical emergency. We promised them we'd do it again in the spring if we liked the resort.
I had wondered if Carrie or Jenny would bring a date or a friend, but they were both stag, as was I. It was just as well — the five of us got along wonderfully and we all knew it would be a fun weekend.
We stopped at a roadside diner for lunch, and Patty wasted no time with the flirting.
"So Bill and I splurged and got a big suite," she said. "The pictures look amazing — it's got a private hot tub on a balcony overlooking the mountains. They told me it's big enough for six people..."
"I saw that suite on their website," I said. "You guys are livin' large this weekend."
"We thought it would be nicer than a public hot tub," Bill said. "Strangers can be fun, but close friends are better."
I was definitely getting a vibe of 'open marriage togetherness' from Bill and Patty. I wasn't quite sure what to say, and Carrie and Jenny were both silent as well. After an awkward pause we talked cars and laughed through the rest of lunch. We decided to get off the highway and take back roads the last hundred miles, which was a great decision. It had warmed up enough to put the tops down, and the drive was spectacular, with stops at scenic overlooks and a short side trip to a beautiful waterfall. We arrived at the resort all smiles.
"I think that's the nicest drive I've ever been on," Jenny said.
"It's so beautiful up here. And this place looks awesome!" Carrie said as we walked in to register.
The resort was first class, and our rooms were perfect, all close together on the same hallway, with beautiful views of the mountains.
"Happy hour at six in our room, dinner at eight downstairs?" Patty asked, and we all went to our rooms to clean up.
Knowing it was a nice resort I brought good clothes, and I'm glad I did. The girls, it turned out, had conspired and decided to dress up for the evenings.
"Wow!" I said when I saw Carrie and Jenny in the hallway. "For a couple of car girls you clean up nice!"
They both had on little cocktail dresses — Carrie's black and Jenny's dark red — and stockings and high heels. Their formerly windblown hair was brushed and fluffed, and for the first time since I had known them they had noticeable makeup on.
"Holy cow!" I said, somewhat stunned by their sexy eyes when my gaze made it up that far.
"Not to bad yourself," Carrie said to me with a smile.
"I guess our little shopping trip was worth it," Jenny said, clearly pleased at the effect they were having on me.
Sunday, August 10, 2014
SUNDAY STORY: Wrong Can Still Be Right Chapter 1
From Literotica by slim_odds2
It was dark. Pitch black actually, except for a few dim halogen lights spread across the abandoned construction site in what Jake suspected was the most token of security efforts. Jake walked slowly past tarp-covered building supplies and stacks of concrete rebar, his flashlight shining weakly; it did more to mark him a target than cast any useful light, but he left it on anyway. He suspected it didn't matter either way; his sister Megan was going to kill him.
Jake stepped carefully into a huge half-finished building, his shotgun sweeping from left to right as he walked from one empty room to the next. He wondered what the building might become. A hotel maybe, or an office building. Or a morgue with really good parking, he thought in a detached way.
Fortunately, Jake wasn't alone in the dark; his youngest sister Natalie and two strangers they met earlier that evening were with him. As the group moved down a corridor they became bunched up together, too close. We're one big fat target, Jake realized. He began to say something, when suddenly he was being strangled from above by a lasso-like tongue. Megan, he knew at once. A horde of zombies collapsed in on him from all directions as his body dangled. Well doesn't this just add insult to injury. As for his companions, well...
As he died, Jake watched Natalie spray desperate Uzi fire into the frenzied undead to little effect. One of their companions ran in wild panicked circles screaming obscenities, and the second disappeared abruptly as he quit the game in apparent frustration. And that, as they say, is that. Jake slumped away from his computer monitor, sighing as he heard Megan crow in victory from her bedroom. "Jerk!" he called in good-humored aggravation.
Left 4 Dead was the game of choice that night for the three James siblings: Jake, Megan, and Natalie. On their respective computers in their respective bedrooms, they played alternately as human and zombie while doing their best to kill one another turn after turn. The two random online strangers had been a last-minute addition to Jake's team to try and balance against Megan's uncanny talent. Waste of time, he thought to himself as he pushed back from his desk, stood, and walked the short distance to Megan's adjacent room.
As Jake rounded the corner, Megan swiveled her computer chair around to face him. At twenty-two years old, she was undeniably beautiful. Barely five foot three and 105 pounds, Megan's slim athletic figure was showcased in the simple undersized black t-shirt and long gray track pants she wore that night. Her brown hair fell straight to her collarbone in stylized layers that seemed to point directly at her small firm breasts. Megan's green-brown eyes shone brightly - they were always alert.
"Since when am I a jerk?" asked Megan.
"Since you murdered me ten seconds ago," replied Jake unseriously. Jake was suddenly and uncomfortably aware of her wry half-smile, a signature grin that he loved in ways he hated to admit. It was accented by a silver stud that pierced her face on a diagonal between the outside corner of one lip and the tip of her lightly-freckled nose. They call it a "Monroe," Jake remembered, as in Marilyn.
Megan extended one toe to the floor and rotated her chair gently from side to side. "It's not murder if it's zombies, you jackass," she said with her grin. "And besides, why would I want to murder my favorite brother?"
"Your only brother, and don't change the subject. Next time I'm going to shoot your zombie butt off with my 12-gauge," Jake promised.
"Not if I fucking choke you to death first," Megan replied sweetly. "What you need is a plan."
"A plan?"
Megan nodded. "Yep. A plan to stop sucking so bad."
Jake rolled his eyes and began to frame a reply until he heard the patio door open and slam shut; Natalie was undoubtedly going outside to salve her wounded pride with a post-game cigarette. "How 'bout a smoke?" Jake suggested instead. Megan nodded and reached to grab her pack of Camels and a flat black Zippo lighter. She unfolded gracefully from her chair and breezed past Jake, reaching up to briefly scratch him behind one ear as she did. Jake loved it when she did that. Jake loved it when she did anything.
Walking outside, Jake was briefly night-blind and had to navigate around patio furniture by memory. He stubbed his toe on a lounge chair and cursed softly. Megan laughed and took him by the hand. "This way, smart guy," she teased as she led him. Her touch was very warm.
They made their way past the swimming pool to the far side of the house where Natalie stood buried in her cellphone, smoking the Marlboros Jake and Megan both hated. The youngest of the three, Natalie was nineteen years-old, soft where Megan was firm, and unfailingly kind. Her large breasts stood out on her short frame, and her blonde hair was typically swept up into some fashionable approximation of a ponytail. Natalie's large sapphire eyes were warm and guileless. For the hundredth time Jake reflected that although he loved her, it was nothing like how he loved Megan.
Jake heard the metallic ping of Megan's Zippo as she lit up. He admired how her cigarette's ember lit up the features of her face until he caught himself staring. Jake chided himself silently for failing - once again - to keep his emotions under the complete control he sought to have. He listened to the night air pass through hidden trees as he smoked, waiting patiently for either Natalie or the sister he loved with too much of his heart to say something.
"Zombie assassin," grumbled Natalie without looking up from her text messaging.
Megan chuckled. "Not my fault you guys can't cover a flank to save... well, to save your lives." Natalie's phone buzzed, and she grimaced at once. Megan's eyes flicked to Jake, who nodded in unspoken agreement.
Yup. It's Dan.
"Your dickhead boyfriend?" Megan asked, knowing the answer.
"Not anymore," Natalie replied. "I'm tired of his shit." She looked up at Jake. "And don't you say anything."
"Like what?" Jake asked innocently.
Natalie snorted. "Like 'do you actually fuckin' mean it this time,' or 'fuckin' finally,' or 'I fuckin' told you so.'"
"We both told you so," Megan muttered.
Natalie ignored her. "Or 'fuck-ity fuck fuck FUCK that guy.'"
"I only said that one once!" Jake said, fighting back laughter.
"Twice. I can count."
"Has anyone ever mentioned how ridiculous you sound when you swear?" Jake asked seriously. "It's like listening to Minnie Mouse -"
"- I do NOT sound like Minnie Mouse!"
"It's like listening to Minnie Mouse drop the F-bomb. You just do it too cute."
Megan nodded gravely. "He's right, you know. You're just too goddamn Disney for your own good."
Natalie rolled her blue eyes. "Anyway, fuck him." She flicked her cigarette into the dirt. "I'm d-o-n-e."
Megan raised her arms over her head triumphantly, exposing a flat stomach for Jake to not look at. "Cue the 'Hallelujah' chorus!"
Jake laughed. "No, the 1812 Overture. We need some celebratory cannon fire."
With a sigh, Natalie began to walk toward the house. "I'm going inside. See you nerds later."
After a long pause, Megan slowly smiled. "So hey," she called after Natalie, "want to celebrate with some post-boyfriend dildo shopping?"
Jake groaned. I am not going to picture Megan with a dildo, he commanded himself. "Sisters aren't supposed to talk about that around their brothers," he complained.
"Like I care. Come on Nat, whaddya say?"
"No thanks, sis," Natalie said primly. "Fingers are better." Without another word, she stepped through the door and into the house.
Megan whirled around to Jake in open-mouthed surprise. "Did she just say that?"
Jake was equally stunned. "Good Lord. What happened to sweet, innocent Natalie?"
"Long gone, I guess," Megan said with a shrug. She gave Jake a long look, her eyes sparkling. "She's right you know."
Jake groaned again. This is not helping.
Megan grinned her grin. "Just giving you a hard time, big bro." Then, Jake watched her face soften into something he had never seen before; some hidden, private face she never showed him. She looked vulnerable, she looked...
...Is she scared?
"You know, you're a great brother." Megan said softly. "I mean it. You spend time with us, you don't freak out when we joke about dildos, and you care about who we date."
Jake didn't know what to say, so he said nothing.
Sunday, July 27, 2014
SUNDAY STORY: A Friend Indeed
From Literotica by loverofFUN
My first experience with another girl happened the summer before I started college.
I had finished up my senior year in high school with three best friends. We were all athletes and met in the trainer's room our junior year as we nursed minor injuries and sprains back to health. Gina and I were co-captains of the girls' soccer team and Lori and Ellie were both volleyball players. After about the third week of hanging out and rehabbing our injuries, we just decided that we all really, really liked each other and that was that. We were inseparable from that point on.
I was really focused on soccer and school and it had paid off as I received a full scholarship to play in college. I really didn't date too much and at this point I had made out and fooled around just a little with a few guys that I had dated, but to be honest, I had never been past second base. Did I want to have sex? I didn't think I was mature enough to go all the way yet, but I was mature enough to know that the absolute last thing I needed was to get pregnant. I had my future planned out with school and soccer and I wasn't going to jeopardize that.
Don't get me wrong, I was practically horny all the time, but my friend and teammate Gina had turned me on to the joys of self pleasure during our sophomore year. She had really sympathized with my sexual inexperience when I opened up to her and she had explained in detail how to masturbate properly. I finally decided I would give her methods a try and I had become pretty much addicted to getting myself off. It actually made it a whole lot easier in terms of avoiding temptation. If they treated me well and acted like a gentleman, I would let my dates get a feel of my boobs over my shirt while we made out. But no further than that... which wasn't too hard knowing that I would take care of things on my own once I got home. It just made it easier to say no.
I thought I was satisfied with being a 'self-sufficient' young woman in the sex department, but my senior year had proven a little more difficult. I guess I had always been fairly popular, but as a senior I had to deal with quite a bit of attention from boys. Basically over a period of eight months starting right after Christmas of my junior year, my boobs had increased in cup size from a modest C to DD's. It happened so fast that I was still trying to get used to them (which wasn't easy with all the running we did in soccer) and I definitely still wasn't all that comfortable with the attention they were getting from not only guys in my class but from teachers and administrators. At that time it had kind of creeped me out and I felt like nobody looked at my face when they talked to me anymore. So to say I was a little self-conscious about them was an understatement.
The four of us had just finished up with graduation and all the awesome graduation parties the previous weekend. We had summer jobs lined up with the intention of saving as much money as we could for our first year of college, but with our various work schedules, we knew that spending a lot of time together this summer was going to be tough. We were all a little down about that because we knew that before we realized it, it would be time to pack up and head off to our colleges of choice. So our plan was to try and get together as often as our schedules permitted and we were kicking things off by having a sleepover at Gina's house as our last little hoorah before the summer grind started.
Gina had also received a college scholarship to play soccer at a smaller school in Florida. Almost everyone considered her really, really cute with her short brown hair, deep, beautiful brown eyes and the sexiest splash of freckles across her nose and cheeks. Lori had played volleyball and had that surfer girl look with a great tan, long blond almost white hair and the most dazzling smile that was framed by a pair of dimples to die for. She wasn't that serious about volleyball, but was smarter than anyone else I knew and had a full academic scholarship to a school in California. Ellie, the other volleyball player, was just flat out beautiful with long auburn hair that framed the prettiest green eyes and a beautiful face. She could have easily been a model, but the fact that she was just over six feet tall made her seem unapproachable by most of the guys we knew. Fortunately for her, her height and skills on the volleyball court had resulted in a full ride to a Big Ten school.
We had kicked off our evening together drinking beer, playing beer pong and eating pizza. We were having fun, but it was getting pretty late, so we all decided to take a quick break from our revelry to change clothes and get more comfortable. Ellie had changed into an oversized t-shirt and boy-shorts panties and Gina had on the same type of outfit (t-shirt and panties). Lori had decided to sleep in a long sleeved jersey with a pair of skimpy gym shorts. I had excused myself to use the bathroom and figured I'd just change while I was in there, so had slipped into an old pair of boy's boxers and a white tank top with no bra. I figured it was no big deal since we were going for comfort and it was kind of warm in Gina's basement even with the A/C running.
When I came out I wasn't too buzzed to notice that my three best friends actually gave me the once over as I was walking across the room. WTF? They were actually out and out staring at my chest until I broke them up laughing when I flipped them off with both hands.
We resumed our drinking game until Gina had the great idea to play truth or dare. We were all feeling really good and buzzed, so everyone was game. It started out pretty silly and involved telling a few embarrassing secrets about crushes and hook-ups and doing stupid stuff like eating gross combinations of our party foods... and of course a lot more drinking. Things started to get funnier and funnier and then it was just out and out hilarious when Gina dared Lori to run outside topless down to her mailbox and back. Little Miss Competitive Lori didn't hesitate in accepting the dare and of course Gina just had to lock the door so Lori couldn't get back in. She was standing there bouncing up and down with her tanned boobs on display, laughing and screaming for us to unlock the door while we all howled hysterically.
Ellie finally let her in and Lori acted like she was mad, but we all knew she really wasn't. She scowled at Gina and swore to get even to which of course Gina had to act tough and told her to bring it. Lori was still topless and decided that she would go ahead and bring it, so she tackled Gina on the couch and began tickling her.
At this point, I'm watching two of my best friends, one of whom is topless, wrestle and tickle on the couch. I started to feel that familiar tingle in my pussy and I knew I was starting to get a little wet while watching this take place. I felt really embarrassed like somehow the other three girls would know. I thought maybe I was paranoid when I felt like someone was watching me and I was startled a little when I quickly turned my head to see Ellie staring at me or more accurately, at my breasts. I was confused until I looked down and noticed that my nipples were rock hard and noticeably poking through my tank top like two pencil erasers. I gave Ellie an embarrassed smile and quickly crossed my arms.
Ellie smiled back shyly and then told the other two to break it up and let's get back to partying. Lori and Gina rejoined us, but Lori still hadn't put her shirt back on. Her boobs were tan all over and perky and stood out proudly and her nipples were very hard. She just grinned and shrugged like it was no big deal and downed the rest of her beer.
My first experience with another girl happened the summer before I started college.
I had finished up my senior year in high school with three best friends. We were all athletes and met in the trainer's room our junior year as we nursed minor injuries and sprains back to health. Gina and I were co-captains of the girls' soccer team and Lori and Ellie were both volleyball players. After about the third week of hanging out and rehabbing our injuries, we just decided that we all really, really liked each other and that was that. We were inseparable from that point on.
I was really focused on soccer and school and it had paid off as I received a full scholarship to play in college. I really didn't date too much and at this point I had made out and fooled around just a little with a few guys that I had dated, but to be honest, I had never been past second base. Did I want to have sex? I didn't think I was mature enough to go all the way yet, but I was mature enough to know that the absolute last thing I needed was to get pregnant. I had my future planned out with school and soccer and I wasn't going to jeopardize that.
Don't get me wrong, I was practically horny all the time, but my friend and teammate Gina had turned me on to the joys of self pleasure during our sophomore year. She had really sympathized with my sexual inexperience when I opened up to her and she had explained in detail how to masturbate properly. I finally decided I would give her methods a try and I had become pretty much addicted to getting myself off. It actually made it a whole lot easier in terms of avoiding temptation. If they treated me well and acted like a gentleman, I would let my dates get a feel of my boobs over my shirt while we made out. But no further than that... which wasn't too hard knowing that I would take care of things on my own once I got home. It just made it easier to say no.
I thought I was satisfied with being a 'self-sufficient' young woman in the sex department, but my senior year had proven a little more difficult. I guess I had always been fairly popular, but as a senior I had to deal with quite a bit of attention from boys. Basically over a period of eight months starting right after Christmas of my junior year, my boobs had increased in cup size from a modest C to DD's. It happened so fast that I was still trying to get used to them (which wasn't easy with all the running we did in soccer) and I definitely still wasn't all that comfortable with the attention they were getting from not only guys in my class but from teachers and administrators. At that time it had kind of creeped me out and I felt like nobody looked at my face when they talked to me anymore. So to say I was a little self-conscious about them was an understatement.
The four of us had just finished up with graduation and all the awesome graduation parties the previous weekend. We had summer jobs lined up with the intention of saving as much money as we could for our first year of college, but with our various work schedules, we knew that spending a lot of time together this summer was going to be tough. We were all a little down about that because we knew that before we realized it, it would be time to pack up and head off to our colleges of choice. So our plan was to try and get together as often as our schedules permitted and we were kicking things off by having a sleepover at Gina's house as our last little hoorah before the summer grind started.
Gina had also received a college scholarship to play soccer at a smaller school in Florida. Almost everyone considered her really, really cute with her short brown hair, deep, beautiful brown eyes and the sexiest splash of freckles across her nose and cheeks. Lori had played volleyball and had that surfer girl look with a great tan, long blond almost white hair and the most dazzling smile that was framed by a pair of dimples to die for. She wasn't that serious about volleyball, but was smarter than anyone else I knew and had a full academic scholarship to a school in California. Ellie, the other volleyball player, was just flat out beautiful with long auburn hair that framed the prettiest green eyes and a beautiful face. She could have easily been a model, but the fact that she was just over six feet tall made her seem unapproachable by most of the guys we knew. Fortunately for her, her height and skills on the volleyball court had resulted in a full ride to a Big Ten school.
We had kicked off our evening together drinking beer, playing beer pong and eating pizza. We were having fun, but it was getting pretty late, so we all decided to take a quick break from our revelry to change clothes and get more comfortable. Ellie had changed into an oversized t-shirt and boy-shorts panties and Gina had on the same type of outfit (t-shirt and panties). Lori had decided to sleep in a long sleeved jersey with a pair of skimpy gym shorts. I had excused myself to use the bathroom and figured I'd just change while I was in there, so had slipped into an old pair of boy's boxers and a white tank top with no bra. I figured it was no big deal since we were going for comfort and it was kind of warm in Gina's basement even with the A/C running.
When I came out I wasn't too buzzed to notice that my three best friends actually gave me the once over as I was walking across the room. WTF? They were actually out and out staring at my chest until I broke them up laughing when I flipped them off with both hands.
We resumed our drinking game until Gina had the great idea to play truth or dare. We were all feeling really good and buzzed, so everyone was game. It started out pretty silly and involved telling a few embarrassing secrets about crushes and hook-ups and doing stupid stuff like eating gross combinations of our party foods... and of course a lot more drinking. Things started to get funnier and funnier and then it was just out and out hilarious when Gina dared Lori to run outside topless down to her mailbox and back. Little Miss Competitive Lori didn't hesitate in accepting the dare and of course Gina just had to lock the door so Lori couldn't get back in. She was standing there bouncing up and down with her tanned boobs on display, laughing and screaming for us to unlock the door while we all howled hysterically.
Ellie finally let her in and Lori acted like she was mad, but we all knew she really wasn't. She scowled at Gina and swore to get even to which of course Gina had to act tough and told her to bring it. Lori was still topless and decided that she would go ahead and bring it, so she tackled Gina on the couch and began tickling her.
At this point, I'm watching two of my best friends, one of whom is topless, wrestle and tickle on the couch. I started to feel that familiar tingle in my pussy and I knew I was starting to get a little wet while watching this take place. I felt really embarrassed like somehow the other three girls would know. I thought maybe I was paranoid when I felt like someone was watching me and I was startled a little when I quickly turned my head to see Ellie staring at me or more accurately, at my breasts. I was confused until I looked down and noticed that my nipples were rock hard and noticeably poking through my tank top like two pencil erasers. I gave Ellie an embarrassed smile and quickly crossed my arms.
Ellie smiled back shyly and then told the other two to break it up and let's get back to partying. Lori and Gina rejoined us, but Lori still hadn't put her shirt back on. Her boobs were tan all over and perky and stood out proudly and her nipples were very hard. She just grinned and shrugged like it was no big deal and downed the rest of her beer.
Sunday, April 6, 2014
SUNDAY STORY : Heading North
From Literotica by tinybabelost
Nine o'clock on a Tuesday and I'm in bed reading. I feel you in the doorway before I see you. I look up to say hello and the words die in my mouth as our eyes meet. Intimidating is a word most people would use to describe my half of our couple. You're the affable one that everybody loves. You're the perfect boyfriend. A saint. A Boy Scout. But not tonight. Tonight something powerful is radiating off your lithe body in waves. The small room crackles to life as you step into it.
You move the few steps from the doorway over to the bed and sit at the the end with your back to me, feet firmly on the floor, knees bent and spread casually. You snap your fingers and point to a spot directly in front of you. "Come stand right here" you say quietly without turning to look at me.
When I don't move immediately you add "I don't think you want me to have to ask again". A flight of butterflies bloom in my stomach.
I remind myself that I asked for this. My interest in submission led me to Tumblr and there I found all sorts of advice on how to talk to your partner about these impulses.
I remember that when I finally got the courage to bring it up, you seemed surprised, but not unpleasantly so. We had been doing some good, old-fashioned making out on the couch. I explained my fantasy about you taking control. (And by 'explained' I mean stammered, blushed and blurted my way through a string of incomplete sentences. Did I mention I have an advanced degree from an Ivy League institution?)
"I've freaked you out," I squeaked. "You're horrified".
"Um, no. I -".
"Yes, you are! Look at you! You can't believe you're in love with such a deviant pervert!" I was panicking. That's what it sounds like when I panic. I was bright red and talking very very fast.
"Hey, I don't think you're a pervert," you said, touching my face. "You're smarter than most of the people I know put together. I trust you. I mean, my girlfriend just told me she wants to use her body to please me endlessly. I wouldn't say that's a bad night. Just ... give me a second."
"OK," I said, trying not to look at you, but having a hard time not overanalyzing every second of silence that passed. The last sounds of summer were floating in from the street through the open window. I am many things, but patient is not one of them.
"SAY SOMETHING!" I shouted suddenly.
"Shouldn't you say please?" you teased with a genuine smile. I smiled back. "I mean, seriously," you said with feigned exasperation. "You don't seem very good at this so far."
My eyes narrowed. "Now might be a good time to try out your safe word, buddy," I shot back scowling. We both promptly erupted into laughter.
"Do you have one," you asked hesitantly. "A safe word, I mean?"
I blushed and gave a small nod. I took your wrist and turned your forearm up. Using my finger, I traced a word onto your skin: n-o-r-t-h. North. I kept my eyes on your arm where my word rested.
You reached up and tugged gently on one of my curls. "Wow," you said quietly. "My heroine is just full of surprises."
You asked a lot of questions including how sure I was that I wanted this. You kept me very close physically even though I kept trying to fold in on myself and scoot away. You were patient and gently teasing as you coaxed my answers from me. You said you needed some time to think about it and do some research. I kissed you gently, thanked you and went to get you a beer. That was 3 weeks ago.
So, fast forward to Tuesday and here is the firm hand I have asked for. I take a deep breath. I quietly close the book, lay it on the nightstand and turn off my lamp. I slip my legs from beneath the blankets to the floor and pad over to stand in front of you, my eyes firmly on my bare feet and pink toenails. The black panties I was wearing at dinner are hidden just barely beneath the hem of the t-shirt I wear to bed. Your eyes move slowly up my body and I can't help but fidget.
"Be still," you say.
My body comes to rest immediately. My eyes are cast to the floor, but I know if I was to look up we would be almost eye level. I'm so small compared to you, but with you sitting down we're almost the same height. It's precisely why we have a bed so low to the ground.
"Show me your panties," you say and I lift the hem of my t-shirt to show you the black lace. "Good. Now hands behind your back." I do as I'm told. Your right hand rises up and cups my left breast through the thin material of my well-worn t-shirt. It's barely a caress. You know exactly what I like. You use the soft fabric to slide over my skin gently while you lift and support the weight of my full breast. You lean in and I can see the firm set of your jaw and mouth. Thoughtful. "It's my fault," you say in almost a whisper. "I've been far too lenient with you."
Nine o'clock on a Tuesday and I'm in bed reading. I feel you in the doorway before I see you. I look up to say hello and the words die in my mouth as our eyes meet. Intimidating is a word most people would use to describe my half of our couple. You're the affable one that everybody loves. You're the perfect boyfriend. A saint. A Boy Scout. But not tonight. Tonight something powerful is radiating off your lithe body in waves. The small room crackles to life as you step into it.
You move the few steps from the doorway over to the bed and sit at the the end with your back to me, feet firmly on the floor, knees bent and spread casually. You snap your fingers and point to a spot directly in front of you. "Come stand right here" you say quietly without turning to look at me.
When I don't move immediately you add "I don't think you want me to have to ask again". A flight of butterflies bloom in my stomach.
I remind myself that I asked for this. My interest in submission led me to Tumblr and there I found all sorts of advice on how to talk to your partner about these impulses.
I remember that when I finally got the courage to bring it up, you seemed surprised, but not unpleasantly so. We had been doing some good, old-fashioned making out on the couch. I explained my fantasy about you taking control. (And by 'explained' I mean stammered, blushed and blurted my way through a string of incomplete sentences. Did I mention I have an advanced degree from an Ivy League institution?)
"I've freaked you out," I squeaked. "You're horrified".
"Um, no. I -".
"Yes, you are! Look at you! You can't believe you're in love with such a deviant pervert!" I was panicking. That's what it sounds like when I panic. I was bright red and talking very very fast.
"Hey, I don't think you're a pervert," you said, touching my face. "You're smarter than most of the people I know put together. I trust you. I mean, my girlfriend just told me she wants to use her body to please me endlessly. I wouldn't say that's a bad night. Just ... give me a second."
"OK," I said, trying not to look at you, but having a hard time not overanalyzing every second of silence that passed. The last sounds of summer were floating in from the street through the open window. I am many things, but patient is not one of them.
"SAY SOMETHING!" I shouted suddenly.
"Shouldn't you say please?" you teased with a genuine smile. I smiled back. "I mean, seriously," you said with feigned exasperation. "You don't seem very good at this so far."
My eyes narrowed. "Now might be a good time to try out your safe word, buddy," I shot back scowling. We both promptly erupted into laughter.
"Do you have one," you asked hesitantly. "A safe word, I mean?"
I blushed and gave a small nod. I took your wrist and turned your forearm up. Using my finger, I traced a word onto your skin: n-o-r-t-h. North. I kept my eyes on your arm where my word rested.
You reached up and tugged gently on one of my curls. "Wow," you said quietly. "My heroine is just full of surprises."
You asked a lot of questions including how sure I was that I wanted this. You kept me very close physically even though I kept trying to fold in on myself and scoot away. You were patient and gently teasing as you coaxed my answers from me. You said you needed some time to think about it and do some research. I kissed you gently, thanked you and went to get you a beer. That was 3 weeks ago.
So, fast forward to Tuesday and here is the firm hand I have asked for. I take a deep breath. I quietly close the book, lay it on the nightstand and turn off my lamp. I slip my legs from beneath the blankets to the floor and pad over to stand in front of you, my eyes firmly on my bare feet and pink toenails. The black panties I was wearing at dinner are hidden just barely beneath the hem of the t-shirt I wear to bed. Your eyes move slowly up my body and I can't help but fidget.
"Be still," you say.
My body comes to rest immediately. My eyes are cast to the floor, but I know if I was to look up we would be almost eye level. I'm so small compared to you, but with you sitting down we're almost the same height. It's precisely why we have a bed so low to the ground.
"Show me your panties," you say and I lift the hem of my t-shirt to show you the black lace. "Good. Now hands behind your back." I do as I'm told. Your right hand rises up and cups my left breast through the thin material of my well-worn t-shirt. It's barely a caress. You know exactly what I like. You use the soft fabric to slide over my skin gently while you lift and support the weight of my full breast. You lean in and I can see the firm set of your jaw and mouth. Thoughtful. "It's my fault," you say in almost a whisper. "I've been far too lenient with you."
Sunday, March 23, 2014
SUNDAY STORY : Bonus: My Taboo Lesbian Life Chapter 2
From Literotica by Koriander
From that night on, Amy and I got together quite frequently. She would sneak into my room every few nights for some sweet lesbian loving. And she was getting quite good at it too! She was a fast learner and very open about trying new things.
When she asked me about my favorite position, I told her it was straddling a girl's head and feeding my pussy to her mouth. From that day on, she would sometimes come into my room, get naked, lay down on the bed and wiggle her tongue at me. Gawd that was so naughty, it had my cunt gushing in seconds! All I had to do was lose my pants and panties and climb on to get expertly eaten out by my sexy little sister.
Amy loved the sideway sixty-nine most, so we spent a fair deal of time during those nights eating out each other's oozing snatches. It was heaven.
I think after a few weeks Mom suspected something, because more than once she saw Amy going into my room at night or coming out there early in the morning. She never said anything though, and she didn't behave differently, so we didn't worry too much about it.
Even if Mom hadn't seen Amy come from my room, I guess it wasn't too difficult to notice the change in our behavior. Amy and I had always had a good relationship, but not like this. We were very caring and loving around each other and we couldn't always suppress that when Mom was there. Amy would often gaze lovingly at me during breakfast or on other occasions and you didn't have to be an expert to notice something was going on.
I knew Amy was in love with me and, as strange as that seemed at first, the feeling was mutual. Of course we had always loved each other as sisters, but now this bond had strengthened by adding a romantic and a physical dimension.
Yes, there was a romantic side too. We didn't just fuck. When we both had spare time, I took her out with Mom's car. We would walk in the park, sit in a café or go to the movies together. It was wonderful taking her to places where no one knew us, so we could hold hands and even kiss in public. It still was risky though. The fear that someone would happen to see this who knew us always nagging in the back of our heads.
Apart from visiting my room for some sexy time, Amy had also started to make love to Andrea. She had told me about their first encounter right away and it got me so hot, I just grabbed her and fucked her right after her little friend had. She was actually still gooey from her encounter with Andrea when I sucked her little cunt. Her fingers still smelled of her friend's pussy and she let me lick the strange girl's fragrance off them, which made me so horny, I was literally burning up!
So one night Amy really shocked me. She told me she had told Andrea about us making love and that Andrea wanted to meet me. Initially I was furious that she had taken such a risky step without talking to me first. But I quickly realized that it was just fear and shame getting the better of me. Had Amy asked me, I would have told her no. But ultimately, why should she ask my advice about a girl that she knew very well and I didn't know at all?
So the next day, when I got home from college they were both sitting in the living-room watching TV. Mom was working late, as she did most days and wouldn't be home before 9 pm. I walked up to my room, showered, slipped into something comfortable and then joined them in the living-room.
I have to say, Andrea was a pleasant surprise. I'm usually not into blonds, but this girl was really cute. She also had a nice figure, not as voluptuous as Amy, but still nice curves. I really couldn't blame my sister for hooking up with such a sweetie.
We sat and watched TV and talked for a while. They weren't shy about hugging and kissing each other with me present, which was giving me mixed emotions. On one hand, seeing two cute young girls kiss and caress so openly was really sexy. But on the other, I didn't want to seem like a freak by staring at them.
Plus, it felt like someone had stolen my lover. Of course I knew it was stupid feeling jealous over my own sister, but I couldn't suppress the feeling.
When Amy pulled back from a kiss and looked at me, she must have read the emotions right out of my face. She motioned me over to where they sat on the couch. I was actually stunned by her invitation, not knowing what I should do. Andrea looked over to me and smiled openly.
So I stood, moved over to the couch and knelt down in front of them, feeling silly and nervous and horny all at the same time. Amy seemed to know exactly what she wanted though. She pulled me over by my shoulders and planted a long wet kiss on my mouth. I heard Andrea gasp in amazement next to us.
Even though it felt a little weird at first, being watched kissing my sister by a strange girl was an incredible turn on for me. Soon my nervousness and fear was forgotten and I really leaned into the kiss, opening my mouth and letting my tongue dance with my Amy's.
Andrea looked on wide eyed. I could tell she wasn't shocked or jealous by our incestuous display, only intrigued. When we finally pulled back, we were both panting breathlessly.
"Wow, that was so hot," Andrea whispered.
Nudging my shoulder, Amy said, "Now her."
I was momentarily taken aback. I hadn't expected Amy to want me to touch her girlfriend. Andrea looked at me with gleaming eyes, an expectant expression on her face.
"Are you sure?" I asked quietly, not taking my eyes off the blond girl.
Andrea smiled shyly and nodded. That was all I needed. I leaned over and touched her soft lips with mine. Her arms came around me and pulled me into an embrace. Only seconds later we were sharing a passionate French-kiss, one of her hands cupping one of my large boobs.
Amy closed in on us and caressed our backs as she watched her older sister kiss her lover. "I want to watch the two of you make love," she whispered softly.
I moaned at Amy's naughty request and pulled away from Andrea. Looking into the girl's blue eyes, I asked, "What about you, Andrea? What do you want?"
The sexy young girl looked up at me with smoldering eyes and breathed, "I want you to take me to your bed."
That made my cunt twitch, so I got up on my feet, grabbed Andrea's hand with my left and Amy's with my right and pulled both of them up to my room. By the time we had entered, the three of us were so hot from the prospect of what we were about to do, we discarded our clothing within mere seconds.
Being the oldest and most likely also the more experienced, I took charge. I had Andrea lay down on the bed and bent over her, Frenching her for a while. Andrea's hands were all over my dangling breasts, cupping, squeezing, kneading them, twisting and pulling my hard nipples. Amy sat next to us on the bed and just watched me make love to her girlfriend with big fiery eyes.
From that night on, Amy and I got together quite frequently. She would sneak into my room every few nights for some sweet lesbian loving. And she was getting quite good at it too! She was a fast learner and very open about trying new things.
When she asked me about my favorite position, I told her it was straddling a girl's head and feeding my pussy to her mouth. From that day on, she would sometimes come into my room, get naked, lay down on the bed and wiggle her tongue at me. Gawd that was so naughty, it had my cunt gushing in seconds! All I had to do was lose my pants and panties and climb on to get expertly eaten out by my sexy little sister.
Amy loved the sideway sixty-nine most, so we spent a fair deal of time during those nights eating out each other's oozing snatches. It was heaven.
I think after a few weeks Mom suspected something, because more than once she saw Amy going into my room at night or coming out there early in the morning. She never said anything though, and she didn't behave differently, so we didn't worry too much about it.
Even if Mom hadn't seen Amy come from my room, I guess it wasn't too difficult to notice the change in our behavior. Amy and I had always had a good relationship, but not like this. We were very caring and loving around each other and we couldn't always suppress that when Mom was there. Amy would often gaze lovingly at me during breakfast or on other occasions and you didn't have to be an expert to notice something was going on.
I knew Amy was in love with me and, as strange as that seemed at first, the feeling was mutual. Of course we had always loved each other as sisters, but now this bond had strengthened by adding a romantic and a physical dimension.
Yes, there was a romantic side too. We didn't just fuck. When we both had spare time, I took her out with Mom's car. We would walk in the park, sit in a café or go to the movies together. It was wonderful taking her to places where no one knew us, so we could hold hands and even kiss in public. It still was risky though. The fear that someone would happen to see this who knew us always nagging in the back of our heads.
Apart from visiting my room for some sexy time, Amy had also started to make love to Andrea. She had told me about their first encounter right away and it got me so hot, I just grabbed her and fucked her right after her little friend had. She was actually still gooey from her encounter with Andrea when I sucked her little cunt. Her fingers still smelled of her friend's pussy and she let me lick the strange girl's fragrance off them, which made me so horny, I was literally burning up!
So one night Amy really shocked me. She told me she had told Andrea about us making love and that Andrea wanted to meet me. Initially I was furious that she had taken such a risky step without talking to me first. But I quickly realized that it was just fear and shame getting the better of me. Had Amy asked me, I would have told her no. But ultimately, why should she ask my advice about a girl that she knew very well and I didn't know at all?
So the next day, when I got home from college they were both sitting in the living-room watching TV. Mom was working late, as she did most days and wouldn't be home before 9 pm. I walked up to my room, showered, slipped into something comfortable and then joined them in the living-room.
I have to say, Andrea was a pleasant surprise. I'm usually not into blonds, but this girl was really cute. She also had a nice figure, not as voluptuous as Amy, but still nice curves. I really couldn't blame my sister for hooking up with such a sweetie.
We sat and watched TV and talked for a while. They weren't shy about hugging and kissing each other with me present, which was giving me mixed emotions. On one hand, seeing two cute young girls kiss and caress so openly was really sexy. But on the other, I didn't want to seem like a freak by staring at them.
Plus, it felt like someone had stolen my lover. Of course I knew it was stupid feeling jealous over my own sister, but I couldn't suppress the feeling.
When Amy pulled back from a kiss and looked at me, she must have read the emotions right out of my face. She motioned me over to where they sat on the couch. I was actually stunned by her invitation, not knowing what I should do. Andrea looked over to me and smiled openly.
So I stood, moved over to the couch and knelt down in front of them, feeling silly and nervous and horny all at the same time. Amy seemed to know exactly what she wanted though. She pulled me over by my shoulders and planted a long wet kiss on my mouth. I heard Andrea gasp in amazement next to us.
Even though it felt a little weird at first, being watched kissing my sister by a strange girl was an incredible turn on for me. Soon my nervousness and fear was forgotten and I really leaned into the kiss, opening my mouth and letting my tongue dance with my Amy's.
Andrea looked on wide eyed. I could tell she wasn't shocked or jealous by our incestuous display, only intrigued. When we finally pulled back, we were both panting breathlessly.
"Wow, that was so hot," Andrea whispered.
Nudging my shoulder, Amy said, "Now her."
I was momentarily taken aback. I hadn't expected Amy to want me to touch her girlfriend. Andrea looked at me with gleaming eyes, an expectant expression on her face.
"Are you sure?" I asked quietly, not taking my eyes off the blond girl.
Andrea smiled shyly and nodded. That was all I needed. I leaned over and touched her soft lips with mine. Her arms came around me and pulled me into an embrace. Only seconds later we were sharing a passionate French-kiss, one of her hands cupping one of my large boobs.
Amy closed in on us and caressed our backs as she watched her older sister kiss her lover. "I want to watch the two of you make love," she whispered softly.
I moaned at Amy's naughty request and pulled away from Andrea. Looking into the girl's blue eyes, I asked, "What about you, Andrea? What do you want?"
The sexy young girl looked up at me with smoldering eyes and breathed, "I want you to take me to your bed."
That made my cunt twitch, so I got up on my feet, grabbed Andrea's hand with my left and Amy's with my right and pulled both of them up to my room. By the time we had entered, the three of us were so hot from the prospect of what we were about to do, we discarded our clothing within mere seconds.
Being the oldest and most likely also the more experienced, I took charge. I had Andrea lay down on the bed and bent over her, Frenching her for a while. Andrea's hands were all over my dangling breasts, cupping, squeezing, kneading them, twisting and pulling my hard nipples. Amy sat next to us on the bed and just watched me make love to her girlfriend with big fiery eyes.
SUNDAY STORY : My Taboo Lesbian Life: Chapter 1
From Literotica by Koriander
Preface:
This story heavily focuses on consenting lesbian incest between adults. If you do not enjoy that theme, or if it offends you, please do not read this.
Despite sometimes being referred to as "little girl" or "baby girl", all females are 18 years or older. This is not a true story, it is just a fantasy. Events and persons are entirely fictional. Views expressed by the characters are not necessarily my own.
English is not my native language, so please be forgiving if my grammar or wording is sometimes strange.
My name is Lucy. I live in a fairly unpopular town in California. With unpopular I don't mean that it's a bad place. On the contrary, living less than two hundred miles from the pacific, I like it quite much. It's just not one of the well known cities like San Francisco or Los Angeles or Berkeley. For privacy reasons, I'm not going to say which town though.
I have the luxury of still living with my family, which consists of my Mom Carol and my younger sister Amy. Mom is in upper management, so she could have supported me even if I had decided to move out. But since we have a fairly big house and campus is not too far away, she doesn't mind still having me around. And neither do I.
My dad doesn't live with us anymore. He didn't die in a car accident, nor did he run off with his secretary. In fact, he's a terrific guy and both Amy and I loved him to bits when we were kids. He and mom divorced when I was 8 years old. It wasn't a big drama, just one of the small tragedies in life. They just couldn't make it work any longer, since they had developed very different personalities and views on what they wanted in life. When he was still close by, Amy and I regularly visited him. But he had to move east coast due to his job.
My little sister Amy is a high school senior. She's a wild one and she's always up to something. She does have good natured spirit though and we actually get along very well. Especially considering the stories I hear from my friends about the fights with their sisters.
Our mother is a strong and confident lady. The perfect manager if you ask me. She is also still quite beautiful for her age. I guess it's partly due to her job. She works hard to remain attractive, be fashionable and maintain her elegant appearance. She's a brunette, just like Amy and me. She has also passed on her voluptuous figure to us.
I'm really grateful for that, because I like full breasts, wide hips and round ass cheeks. Not just on my own body, but with females in general. When I hit puberty, I fairly quickly discovered that I loved girls.
In a way I was blessed though, because unlike many girls, I didn't have to hide in the closet and keep it a secret. My mother is a lesbian too and she has always been open with us about the fact. So I didn't have to fear her reaction when I came out. I could discuss all the complicated implications and the mixed emotions with her, and that helped a lot.
My first girlfriend was a cute girl named Lisa. She was my class mate and also my best friend. We kind of started to experiment with each other. Unfortunately though, unlike me, she decided that she wasn't really a lesbian. So this was done eventually.
In my senior high school year I hooked up with a sexy raven-haired beauty named Heather. She was an experienced and convinced lesbian. Most of what I know about making love to a woman, I learned from her. I really loved her very much. Unfortunately she had to sacrifice our relationship for her career plans when we graduated. She had the opportunity to study in Stanford University, so of course I didn't want to stand in her way. It was one of the sadder moments in my young life.
Anyway I'm digressing. After all, this is about my taboo lesbian life, not my depressing past relationships.
One late evening, while I was in bed reading a book, Amy knocked softly onto my door. When I answered, she stuck her head through the door.
"Hey Sis, mind if I come in?" Amy asked humbly.
I shook my head and put the book away. "Sure Little Bit, what's on your mind?"
Amy came in and and closed the door. Wringing her hands nervously she looked around my room. She wore white cotton pajamas with bears on them. It may have been a bit silly for a girl her age to wear these, but she did look cute in them. Amy came up to my bed and still seemed unsure of herself. So I decided to take the initiative.
"What's up hon, you seem tense." I told her in a warm voice.
"I wanted to ask you something," she said reluctantly, "but can we cuddle while we talk, like we did when I was little?" Her cheeks were reddening when she spoke.
I gave her a gentle smile. "Be my guest," I answered.
Instantly, Amy's face lit up and she crawled in bed with me. When she slipped under the blanket and snuggled up against me, she made a surprised face and blushed even more.
"Oh sorry, I didn't know you slept naked!" Amy exclaimed.
I chuckled. "Well, now you do. Do you mind? I can get up and put something on if you want."
Amy shook her head. "No, don't bother. It's okay," she quickly replied.
As Amy snuggled up to my naked body and put her head on my shoulder, I put my arms around her and pulled her close.
"Mmmm, this feels nice," I said softly, "We haven't done this in a long while."
"True," Amy replied, sighing contentedly as she rested in my embrace.
After a while I said, "Well Little Bit, what did you want to talk to me about?"
"Well, it's just ..." Amy stopped unsure of herself.
"Spit it out baby, you know you can be completely open with me," I encouraged her.
"It's just, how did you know you're into girls?" She blurted out.
I chuckled. "Oh dear, what brought this on?"
"I dunno. Just curious I guess," Amy replied shyly.
"Well, let's see," I told her, taking a moment as if I had to think about it, "I guess I really knew when none of the boys I had been with turned me on, but seeing some of the girls in the changing room did."
"I see," Amy replied thinking, "So you had to be with a boy to find out."
"Well that's one way to be sure," I told her, "But everyone is different. Some girls are sure about being gay without ever having touched a dick."
"But you weren't?" Amy asked.
"Let's just say, I already knew I liked girls, but I wanted to find out if it was really my preference, or if I had just had bad luck dating the wrong guys."
Amy nodded and remained silent, thinking for a moment.
"Are you trying to decide whether you're gay, Little Bit?" I asked her softly.
Amy sighed. "Yeah I guess I really am. I'm just wondering ..."
"Go on, I'm listening," I encouraged her.
Sunday, March 16, 2014
SUNDAY STORY : Bonus : Sharing Daddy
From Literotica by MissFeatherclit
(Author's note: Anyone engaged in any sexual activity is over 18.)
Daddy and I had been fucking each other for more than a year. He is mine, exclusively. I share his bed every night. I am totally in love with him, and Daddy is in love with me.
I heard his car pull into the driveway, and I greeted him at the front door. Throwing my arms around his neck, I pulled him close to me and covered his mouth with mine. It wasn't a daughterly "welcome home" kiss, it was deep and passionate, including lots of tongue.
"Hi, Daddy."
"Hi, baby girl."
Daddy has called me "baby girl" as long as I can remember, starting when I was a little girl. Now that I'm a grown woman, at nineteen, he still calls me that. I love it.
"Sit down on the couch, Daddy, and I'll mix you a drink."
Daddy is a Scotch drinker, so I poured him a double shot of Glenlivet, with just a splash of soda. I don't like hard liquor, so I had a glass of wine. I snuggled up next to him and asked him about his day.
He is a contractor, specializing in custom homes. Expensive custom homes. The house he built for us is all redwood, natural stone, and lots of glass. It sits on ten acres, surrounded by woods, and we have a beautiful swimming pool in the backyard. Daddy and I swim naked.
Daddy is 42, but he looks ten years younger. He's 6'2" with broad shoulders and narrow hips. He is well muscled, due to his years of construction work. He has blond hair, bleached by the sun, and cobalt blue eyes. I think he looks like a young Robert Redford, with sculpted features and a deep cleft in his chin. He is my idol. My father, my lover, my best friend.
Like I said, we've been lovers for about a year, starting just after my eighteenth birthday. I developed a terrible crush on him just when I entered puberty and my body started to change. I didn't make any overt moves toward him for several years, but I could tell he was looking at me in a different way.
Once my breasts formed their first little buds, they grew rapidly. I was a B cup in the ninth grade, and by the time I was a senior in high school, I had grown into the C cup that I am now.
Daddy was very open and very frank with me when it came to discussing anything of a sexual nature. I learned the mechanics in the Sex Ed class I took at school, and a whole lot more from the other girls, many of whom were sexually active at a very early age.
If I had any questions about sex, Daddy would answer them for me, without any admonishments or judgment. My periods were very irregular, so with Daddy's consent, my doctor prescribed birth control pills to help regulate them. He was quite aware that a lot of teenagers were sexually active, so with the pill, he felt I would be safe. I had a few boyfriends in high school, nothing serious. I did a bunch of making out and a little light touching, through our clothes, but that was the extent of my sexual activity. Until Daddy.
Daddy finished his drink, and I mixed him another one. I sat down beside him, cuddled up, and nuzzled his neck, raining little butterfly kisses all over his face. Fisting his hand in my hair, he pulled my face into his, and crushed his lips down on mine.
Kissing Daddy totally intoxicates me, inflames me with desire. When he kisses me, there is a hotline between my lips and my clit. It starts to tingle, and I squirm next to him. While his tongue was in my mouth, I put my hand on the bulge in his jeans, feeling his erection grow beneath my fingers. His mouth is more insistent as I undo the button on his Levi's and pull the zipper down.
I can hear him groan as my hand reaches under his shorts, wrapping it around his hardened shaft. Gripping him firmly, I slide the loose skin on his penis up and down. I tug on his pants and pull them down, exposing his magnificent cock, totally hard, the bulbous head shining and swollen.
Bending down toward him, I take his cock in my hand and lower my head, taking him in my mouth. Coating him with my saliva, I run my tongue around and around his swollen crown while bobbing my head up and down on him. My tongue flicks over that sensitive place when his head meets the shaft. This drives him crazy, and his hips start to buck, his cock rising up to meet my mouth every time it goes down.
I cupped his balls in my hand, fondling them first, then pulling his scrotum down, in rhythm with my descending mouth. A growl emits from deep in his throat. He throws his head back and fisting both hands in my hair, he pulls my head up and down as his thrusts up into my mouth.
I know he's getting close to his release. He holds me tighter, his balls start to draw up tight, and I can feel the head of his cock swell even more. Gently, I rake my fingernails over his hardened sack, and that pushes him over the edge. Shouting my name, he erupts, shooting wad after wad of cum down the back of my throat.
Swallowing it all, I look at up him and smile. I really love to make him cum like this, because I know how much he'll pay it back when we go to bed that night.
Leaving him sated, I got up and made our supper. Over the years, I've become a really good cook. That night, I made poached salmon, asparagus with hollandaise sauce, and baby red potatoes. I opened a bottle of chardonnay to go with the fish. We had just finished dinner, and I went to the freezer to get a carton of Ben and Jerry's Chunky Monkey, Daddy's favorite, when the phone rang. I answered it, and with a scowl, handed it to Daddy.
"It's HER," I said.
"Her" referred to my mother; I could never call her Mommy or Mom. I hated her. Daddy talked with her for awhile. I couldn't make much from his side of the conversation, except for an "Uh huh." "I see." "Yes." "I'll be there."
"What was that about, Daddy?"
"Well, it seems Christy is coming to live with us."
"Why, for fuck's sake?" I wailed.
Christy is my sister; at eighteen, she's a year younger than I am. When Daddy divorced HER, I was eleven and Christy was ten. The judge decided we were old enough to choose which parent we wanted to live with. I was always Daddy's girl, so I chose him, and Christy chose to live with our mother.
Our mother became a "born again Christian" after she left Daddy, and Christy was sent to a fundamentalist church-run school, back in West Virginia, where they moved to after their divorce.
Daddy and I hadn't seen Christy since she was fourteen, when she came to visit us here in Northern California for a week. She was a skinny, tit-less adolescent with braces on her teeth, zits, and stringy hair. Her mother made her wear totally shapeless long dresses that covered her up from the neck to the ankles.
It turns out that Christy finally rebelled against the sect they belonged to, and once she was considered an adult, no one could force her to stay there any longer. Once she made it known that she wanted to leave, our mother dis-owned her and she was shunned by the church.
"Shit, Daddy, what is this going to do to US?" I practically yelled at him.
"I guess you'll have to move back to your own room, and we'll have to be really discreet when we have sex with each other."
"Shit-fuck-piss-cunt!" I screamed. "This ruins everything for us. Why did you let that little bitch come here?"
"Number one, she is my daughter, and I love her. Besides that, she has no place else to go. And, she's not a little bitch; she's your sister."
"She was always a bitch, even when she was a little girl. We never did get along with each other. And now, I fucking HATE her."
"You don't even know her anymore."
"I don't want to know her. And now I have to share a room with her."
"We're just going to have to suck it up, and make the best of it."
"But Daddy, I love you, and I don't want to sleep alone again. I want to sleep with you."
"I know, baby girl, I want to be with you, too. We'll just have to wait and see what happens. We have a week together before she gets here."
"I'm gonna use that week to fuck your brains out, Daddy." And I did, too.
The next week we picked Christy up at the airport. Our mother was going to have her take the bus, but Daddy sent her the plane fare. I barely recognized her after four years. She had definitely filled out; you could tell even though she wore that awful shapeless dress.
Her braces were gone and her complexion had cleared up. Her blond hair was fixed into a single braid that hung almost down to her ass. Daddy went up to her with his arms wide open, pulling her into his body for a hug. I couldn't stand the idea of her body pressed against his. She didn't return the hug, but just stood there stiffly. That wasn't something that was done by members of her church, especially between men and women.
"Hello, Dad. Hello, Callie," she said, by way of greeting us.
"Thank you for letting me come here to stay with you."
"You're always welcome here, sweetheart. I've really missed you."
I hated that he called her that. I hated that he made her welcome here. She looked like a freak in those clothes; I'd be ashamed to have any of my friends meet her. At least she called him "Dad." He is MY Daddy.
When we got home, Christy wandered around the house, taking it all in. It was a palace compared to where she had been living. It is a palace, and I am the princess. Daddy's princess.
"Will you please take Christy up and show her to your room, baby girl?"
I was really pissed off, not only because I was being booted out of Daddy's room, but that I had to share mine. Our house has three bedrooms, but Daddy uses one for his office. She picked up one of her suitcases; I grabbed the other one, and went up to MY bedroom.
When he found out Christy was coming, Daddy took the queen sized bed out of my room and replaced it with two singles. I gave her the one by the inside wall, and took the bed by the window for myself. We dumped her luggage on her bed and I showed her where she could hang her clothes in the closet. Daddy had bought another dresser.
She opened her bags and started to put her clothes away.
"Is that all you have? All the dresses are the same."
"I hate these clothes, but they're all I was allowed to wear."
"Don't you have any jeans or anything?"
"Only men were allowed to wear pants; women always had to wear dresses. I'd love to wear jeans, but I don't have any."
Her eyes misted up, and a tear ran down her cheek. Suddenly, I felt very sorry for her, and it started to touch my heart. I hated that she would be keeping me from Daddy, but it wasn't really her fault. I got a pair of my jeans and a tee-shirt out of my dresser. She looked to be about my size, although it was hard to tell with that baggy dress on.
"Here, try these on," I said, handing her my clothes.
She started toward the bathroom to change.
"You don't have to go into the bathroom; you can change right here."
"I, um, I'm not used to taking my clothes off in front of anybody."
"For Christ's sake, Christy, we're both girls. We used to run around naked together when we were little. Take your fucking dress off so I can see what else I have that might fit you."
She totally cringed hearing my language, but that's the way I talk, and she'll need to get used to it. She took a deep breath and, turning her back to me, started to unbutton her dress. It had a lot of buttons on it; I guess they didn't believe in zippers.
Shyly, she slipped the dress off and stood there in her underwear. She wore a thick white cotton bra that completely covered her tits, made of material so thick you'd never know she had nipples. Her underpants--you certainly couldn't call them panties--were also white cotton and rode high enough to cover her belly button.
Christy had definitely filled out. Her body was lush; curvy in all the right places, with a nice rack and round, heart-shaped ass. As a matter of fact, we could be twins. Not to be boasting or anything thing, but I have a hot bod--and I know it. And I show it. Daddy gets a hard-on just looking at me.
I was going to take a shower, so I started taking my clothes off too. Christy did a double-take when she looked at my underwear. I was wearing a black lace bra that lifted my tits, barely covering my nipples, which you could see right through the sheer fabric. I wore French cut bikini panties. Daddy buys all my sexy underthings and negligees; he loves to see me in them. And he really likes taking them off me.
Standing there in her ugly underwear, she looked at mine again, so I went into my dresser and pulled out a sexy white lace bra and matching panties. I didn't think she was ready for a thong yet, so these were low-cut bikinis, similar to what I was wearing.
"Here," I said, handing them to her, "you can wear these." She looked shocked for a minute, then smiled. I stripped down naked, ready for my shower. Christy was studying my body as I sauntered toward the bathroom. When I finished my shower, she was standing in front of the full length mirror on the wall, checking herself out from every angle.
She sat down on her bed while I was dressing, and when I turned around, tears were running down her cheeks. I stood stock still for a moment, then went over and wrapped my arms around her, holding her tight and rocking her as she sobbed. As much as a hard-ass that I tend to be, underneath it all I have a really soft heart. As much as I wanted to hate her, I couldn't do it. Although we didn't get along with each other when we were younger, I loved her. And I still do.
"What's wrong, Christy? Tell me about it."
Her body-wracking sobs subsided, and she sat up straight, wringing her hands in her lap. She looked at me plaintively, her eyes red from crying.
"I don't know where to begin. My life is just so messed up. I don't know who I am or what I'm doing, or where I belong."
I wanted to hug here and tell her that she belonged here, but it would thoroughly fuck up my relationship with Daddy. I didn't know what we were going to do. I encouraged her to talk it out, so maybe she'd feel better getting it out of her system.
"I didn't fee like I belonged in Mom's church community. They're all so radically fundamentalist. The only book we were allowed to read, besides our school books, was the Bible. I love to read and I'd sneak novels into my room at night, but if I got caught with one, I'd get whipped. We weren't allowed to watch TV, except for religious shows on Sunday, and we could only listen to Christian music. Occasionally I'd go to somebody else's house and watch TV or listen to popular music."
"That must be awful," I said.
"I could see on TV or in magazines how regular people lived, and I want to do that too. I see people kissing, and I want to know what that's like. I don't even know how to kiss. Whenever I see it or think about it, I get funny feelings in my body that I can't explain."
"What kind of feelings in your body?"
"Like kind of a tugging feeling low in my stomach and a tingling, um, down, ah, there."
"Down where?"
"Um, down between my legs."
"You mean in your pussy?"
"My what?"
"Right down here," I said, grabbing my crotch.
"You call it a pussy?"
"Pussy, cunt, twat, cooze, and a couple dozen other words. What do you call it?"
"Well, I know all the proper--at least the medical-- names for all the body parts. I looked at a copy of Grey's Anatomy in my doctor's office. So that would be my, er, vagina," she said, blushing scarlet.
"Don't you take care of it when you get turned on like that?"
"Turned on? I don't know what you mean. Take care of what?"
"Turned on means you are sexually aroused. And you take care of it by masturbating."
"I heard some of the girls at my school talking about that, but I have no idea how to do it."
"I can show you how to do it. Take your bra and panties off and lie down on your bed."
(Author's note: Anyone engaged in any sexual activity is over 18.)
Daddy and I had been fucking each other for more than a year. He is mine, exclusively. I share his bed every night. I am totally in love with him, and Daddy is in love with me.
I heard his car pull into the driveway, and I greeted him at the front door. Throwing my arms around his neck, I pulled him close to me and covered his mouth with mine. It wasn't a daughterly "welcome home" kiss, it was deep and passionate, including lots of tongue.
"Hi, Daddy."
"Hi, baby girl."
Daddy has called me "baby girl" as long as I can remember, starting when I was a little girl. Now that I'm a grown woman, at nineteen, he still calls me that. I love it.
"Sit down on the couch, Daddy, and I'll mix you a drink."
Daddy is a Scotch drinker, so I poured him a double shot of Glenlivet, with just a splash of soda. I don't like hard liquor, so I had a glass of wine. I snuggled up next to him and asked him about his day.
He is a contractor, specializing in custom homes. Expensive custom homes. The house he built for us is all redwood, natural stone, and lots of glass. It sits on ten acres, surrounded by woods, and we have a beautiful swimming pool in the backyard. Daddy and I swim naked.
Daddy is 42, but he looks ten years younger. He's 6'2" with broad shoulders and narrow hips. He is well muscled, due to his years of construction work. He has blond hair, bleached by the sun, and cobalt blue eyes. I think he looks like a young Robert Redford, with sculpted features and a deep cleft in his chin. He is my idol. My father, my lover, my best friend.
Like I said, we've been lovers for about a year, starting just after my eighteenth birthday. I developed a terrible crush on him just when I entered puberty and my body started to change. I didn't make any overt moves toward him for several years, but I could tell he was looking at me in a different way.
Once my breasts formed their first little buds, they grew rapidly. I was a B cup in the ninth grade, and by the time I was a senior in high school, I had grown into the C cup that I am now.
Daddy was very open and very frank with me when it came to discussing anything of a sexual nature. I learned the mechanics in the Sex Ed class I took at school, and a whole lot more from the other girls, many of whom were sexually active at a very early age.
If I had any questions about sex, Daddy would answer them for me, without any admonishments or judgment. My periods were very irregular, so with Daddy's consent, my doctor prescribed birth control pills to help regulate them. He was quite aware that a lot of teenagers were sexually active, so with the pill, he felt I would be safe. I had a few boyfriends in high school, nothing serious. I did a bunch of making out and a little light touching, through our clothes, but that was the extent of my sexual activity. Until Daddy.
Daddy finished his drink, and I mixed him another one. I sat down beside him, cuddled up, and nuzzled his neck, raining little butterfly kisses all over his face. Fisting his hand in my hair, he pulled my face into his, and crushed his lips down on mine.
Kissing Daddy totally intoxicates me, inflames me with desire. When he kisses me, there is a hotline between my lips and my clit. It starts to tingle, and I squirm next to him. While his tongue was in my mouth, I put my hand on the bulge in his jeans, feeling his erection grow beneath my fingers. His mouth is more insistent as I undo the button on his Levi's and pull the zipper down.
I can hear him groan as my hand reaches under his shorts, wrapping it around his hardened shaft. Gripping him firmly, I slide the loose skin on his penis up and down. I tug on his pants and pull them down, exposing his magnificent cock, totally hard, the bulbous head shining and swollen.
Bending down toward him, I take his cock in my hand and lower my head, taking him in my mouth. Coating him with my saliva, I run my tongue around and around his swollen crown while bobbing my head up and down on him. My tongue flicks over that sensitive place when his head meets the shaft. This drives him crazy, and his hips start to buck, his cock rising up to meet my mouth every time it goes down.
I cupped his balls in my hand, fondling them first, then pulling his scrotum down, in rhythm with my descending mouth. A growl emits from deep in his throat. He throws his head back and fisting both hands in my hair, he pulls my head up and down as his thrusts up into my mouth.
I know he's getting close to his release. He holds me tighter, his balls start to draw up tight, and I can feel the head of his cock swell even more. Gently, I rake my fingernails over his hardened sack, and that pushes him over the edge. Shouting my name, he erupts, shooting wad after wad of cum down the back of my throat.
Swallowing it all, I look at up him and smile. I really love to make him cum like this, because I know how much he'll pay it back when we go to bed that night.
Leaving him sated, I got up and made our supper. Over the years, I've become a really good cook. That night, I made poached salmon, asparagus with hollandaise sauce, and baby red potatoes. I opened a bottle of chardonnay to go with the fish. We had just finished dinner, and I went to the freezer to get a carton of Ben and Jerry's Chunky Monkey, Daddy's favorite, when the phone rang. I answered it, and with a scowl, handed it to Daddy.
"It's HER," I said.
"Her" referred to my mother; I could never call her Mommy or Mom. I hated her. Daddy talked with her for awhile. I couldn't make much from his side of the conversation, except for an "Uh huh." "I see." "Yes." "I'll be there."
"What was that about, Daddy?"
"Well, it seems Christy is coming to live with us."
"Why, for fuck's sake?" I wailed.
Christy is my sister; at eighteen, she's a year younger than I am. When Daddy divorced HER, I was eleven and Christy was ten. The judge decided we were old enough to choose which parent we wanted to live with. I was always Daddy's girl, so I chose him, and Christy chose to live with our mother.
Our mother became a "born again Christian" after she left Daddy, and Christy was sent to a fundamentalist church-run school, back in West Virginia, where they moved to after their divorce.
Daddy and I hadn't seen Christy since she was fourteen, when she came to visit us here in Northern California for a week. She was a skinny, tit-less adolescent with braces on her teeth, zits, and stringy hair. Her mother made her wear totally shapeless long dresses that covered her up from the neck to the ankles.
It turns out that Christy finally rebelled against the sect they belonged to, and once she was considered an adult, no one could force her to stay there any longer. Once she made it known that she wanted to leave, our mother dis-owned her and she was shunned by the church.
"Shit, Daddy, what is this going to do to US?" I practically yelled at him.
"I guess you'll have to move back to your own room, and we'll have to be really discreet when we have sex with each other."
"Shit-fuck-piss-cunt!" I screamed. "This ruins everything for us. Why did you let that little bitch come here?"
"Number one, she is my daughter, and I love her. Besides that, she has no place else to go. And, she's not a little bitch; she's your sister."
"She was always a bitch, even when she was a little girl. We never did get along with each other. And now, I fucking HATE her."
"You don't even know her anymore."
"I don't want to know her. And now I have to share a room with her."
"We're just going to have to suck it up, and make the best of it."
"But Daddy, I love you, and I don't want to sleep alone again. I want to sleep with you."
"I know, baby girl, I want to be with you, too. We'll just have to wait and see what happens. We have a week together before she gets here."
"I'm gonna use that week to fuck your brains out, Daddy." And I did, too.
The next week we picked Christy up at the airport. Our mother was going to have her take the bus, but Daddy sent her the plane fare. I barely recognized her after four years. She had definitely filled out; you could tell even though she wore that awful shapeless dress.
Her braces were gone and her complexion had cleared up. Her blond hair was fixed into a single braid that hung almost down to her ass. Daddy went up to her with his arms wide open, pulling her into his body for a hug. I couldn't stand the idea of her body pressed against his. She didn't return the hug, but just stood there stiffly. That wasn't something that was done by members of her church, especially between men and women.
"Hello, Dad. Hello, Callie," she said, by way of greeting us.
"Thank you for letting me come here to stay with you."
"You're always welcome here, sweetheart. I've really missed you."
I hated that he called her that. I hated that he made her welcome here. She looked like a freak in those clothes; I'd be ashamed to have any of my friends meet her. At least she called him "Dad." He is MY Daddy.
When we got home, Christy wandered around the house, taking it all in. It was a palace compared to where she had been living. It is a palace, and I am the princess. Daddy's princess.
"Will you please take Christy up and show her to your room, baby girl?"
I was really pissed off, not only because I was being booted out of Daddy's room, but that I had to share mine. Our house has three bedrooms, but Daddy uses one for his office. She picked up one of her suitcases; I grabbed the other one, and went up to MY bedroom.
When he found out Christy was coming, Daddy took the queen sized bed out of my room and replaced it with two singles. I gave her the one by the inside wall, and took the bed by the window for myself. We dumped her luggage on her bed and I showed her where she could hang her clothes in the closet. Daddy had bought another dresser.
She opened her bags and started to put her clothes away.
"Is that all you have? All the dresses are the same."
"I hate these clothes, but they're all I was allowed to wear."
"Don't you have any jeans or anything?"
"Only men were allowed to wear pants; women always had to wear dresses. I'd love to wear jeans, but I don't have any."
Her eyes misted up, and a tear ran down her cheek. Suddenly, I felt very sorry for her, and it started to touch my heart. I hated that she would be keeping me from Daddy, but it wasn't really her fault. I got a pair of my jeans and a tee-shirt out of my dresser. She looked to be about my size, although it was hard to tell with that baggy dress on.
"Here, try these on," I said, handing her my clothes.
She started toward the bathroom to change.
"You don't have to go into the bathroom; you can change right here."
"I, um, I'm not used to taking my clothes off in front of anybody."
"For Christ's sake, Christy, we're both girls. We used to run around naked together when we were little. Take your fucking dress off so I can see what else I have that might fit you."
She totally cringed hearing my language, but that's the way I talk, and she'll need to get used to it. She took a deep breath and, turning her back to me, started to unbutton her dress. It had a lot of buttons on it; I guess they didn't believe in zippers.
Shyly, she slipped the dress off and stood there in her underwear. She wore a thick white cotton bra that completely covered her tits, made of material so thick you'd never know she had nipples. Her underpants--you certainly couldn't call them panties--were also white cotton and rode high enough to cover her belly button.
Christy had definitely filled out. Her body was lush; curvy in all the right places, with a nice rack and round, heart-shaped ass. As a matter of fact, we could be twins. Not to be boasting or anything thing, but I have a hot bod--and I know it. And I show it. Daddy gets a hard-on just looking at me.
I was going to take a shower, so I started taking my clothes off too. Christy did a double-take when she looked at my underwear. I was wearing a black lace bra that lifted my tits, barely covering my nipples, which you could see right through the sheer fabric. I wore French cut bikini panties. Daddy buys all my sexy underthings and negligees; he loves to see me in them. And he really likes taking them off me.
Standing there in her ugly underwear, she looked at mine again, so I went into my dresser and pulled out a sexy white lace bra and matching panties. I didn't think she was ready for a thong yet, so these were low-cut bikinis, similar to what I was wearing.
"Here," I said, handing them to her, "you can wear these." She looked shocked for a minute, then smiled. I stripped down naked, ready for my shower. Christy was studying my body as I sauntered toward the bathroom. When I finished my shower, she was standing in front of the full length mirror on the wall, checking herself out from every angle.
She sat down on her bed while I was dressing, and when I turned around, tears were running down her cheeks. I stood stock still for a moment, then went over and wrapped my arms around her, holding her tight and rocking her as she sobbed. As much as a hard-ass that I tend to be, underneath it all I have a really soft heart. As much as I wanted to hate her, I couldn't do it. Although we didn't get along with each other when we were younger, I loved her. And I still do.
"What's wrong, Christy? Tell me about it."
Her body-wracking sobs subsided, and she sat up straight, wringing her hands in her lap. She looked at me plaintively, her eyes red from crying.
"I don't know where to begin. My life is just so messed up. I don't know who I am or what I'm doing, or where I belong."
I wanted to hug here and tell her that she belonged here, but it would thoroughly fuck up my relationship with Daddy. I didn't know what we were going to do. I encouraged her to talk it out, so maybe she'd feel better getting it out of her system.
"I didn't fee like I belonged in Mom's church community. They're all so radically fundamentalist. The only book we were allowed to read, besides our school books, was the Bible. I love to read and I'd sneak novels into my room at night, but if I got caught with one, I'd get whipped. We weren't allowed to watch TV, except for religious shows on Sunday, and we could only listen to Christian music. Occasionally I'd go to somebody else's house and watch TV or listen to popular music."
"That must be awful," I said.
"I could see on TV or in magazines how regular people lived, and I want to do that too. I see people kissing, and I want to know what that's like. I don't even know how to kiss. Whenever I see it or think about it, I get funny feelings in my body that I can't explain."
"What kind of feelings in your body?"
"Like kind of a tugging feeling low in my stomach and a tingling, um, down, ah, there."
"Down where?"
"Um, down between my legs."
"You mean in your pussy?"
"My what?"
"Right down here," I said, grabbing my crotch.
"You call it a pussy?"
"Pussy, cunt, twat, cooze, and a couple dozen other words. What do you call it?"
"Well, I know all the proper--at least the medical-- names for all the body parts. I looked at a copy of Grey's Anatomy in my doctor's office. So that would be my, er, vagina," she said, blushing scarlet.
"Don't you take care of it when you get turned on like that?"
"Turned on? I don't know what you mean. Take care of what?"
"Turned on means you are sexually aroused. And you take care of it by masturbating."
"I heard some of the girls at my school talking about that, but I have no idea how to do it."
"I can show you how to do it. Take your bra and panties off and lie down on your bed."
SUNDAY STORY : My Cousin Kathy
From Literotica by Jayexx
She is the girl next door. Literally. We still live in two homes on the end of a cul-de-sac, built and occupied by our families since the eighties, once the only two houses in this neighborhood on the outskirts of town. That was a few years before Kathleen and I made our grand entrances into this world. Kathleen is that girl next door – and my cousin.
Our fathers are brothers and business partners. Kelly Brother's construction is well known in our corner of the state. Grandpop Kelly started the business with his brother, Sean, sometime after returning from Europe in World War II. Sean died the year I was born, so I don't remember him. Kathy was born two years later.
Grandpop's given name was William, a name he passed on to his oldest son, my father, who everyone calls Bill. My mother's name is Sandy. I am William Dillon Kelly III. When I was young everyone called me Billy, but as I got into high school I worked very hard to get my friends to call me Will. That worked with friends and teachers, but not with family. I know that if I hear, "Billy," on the other end of the phone I'm talking to a family member. Kathy's father was named after Grandpop's brother Sean, but everyone calls him Red. Kathy was named after Grandmom Kelly and her mother, Deirdre, who I call Aunt Deedee.
Kathleen Deirdre Kelly isn't just my cousin; she is my oldest and best friend. We ran in slightly different circles in high school (seniors and sophomores don't have many activities in common), but still hung out together after school. We were the only two kids on our street.
I got my degree in Architecture and entered the family business right after graduation. I spent most of my time designing or modifying plans for the homes that Dad, Uncle Red, and the crews would build. That doesn't mean I wasn't called on when we were short handed or coming up on a deadline. I'd been hanging around the building sites since I was old enough to be trusted not to hurt myself. I can frame, lay sheet rock, shingle, paint, and even lay block in a pinch.
Kathy took a different path, studying to be a nurse. She's been working in the ER since she graduated. The work is tough, the hours tougher, but Kathy is tougher than both. Even with that toughness, and an Irish temper you would best avoid, the staff loves her and the patients adore her.
I'm sure you're wondering why two grown kids are living with their parents. There's really not much of a story. I had been out on my own since I graduated. I'd been dating a girl named Carol for about four years. We got engaged and even went so far as to purchase a house together. About six months before the wedding, and after six months of living together, we realized that things just weren't going to work out between the two of us. I moved home and I'm looking at one of the properties Dad and Uncle Red are working on now.
Kathy's tale is just as boring. She had been rooming with one of the other nurses and, for the past year, her roommate's boyfriend. It was an odd enough arrangement until her roommates decided to get married. Kathy was the maid of honor, and moved back home while the newlyweds were on their honeymoon.
Grandmom Kelly passed away two years ago leaving Grandpop alone for the first time in over sixty years. Grandpop continued to come into the office once or twice a week. He'd sit at his desk, talk to clients and suppliers, and discuss current projects with his sons and grandson. He died, asleep at his desk, two weeks ago while Dad and Uncle Red were on a job site and I was meeting a new client on the other side of the county. At the funeral several people mentioned that at least he passed away at a place he dearly loved to be.
"Billy, are you ready?" mom called up the stairs. "We have to be at Mr. Haverty's at ten."
I was already descending the stairs, wearing my best khakis, dress shirt and shoes. Mom gave me a look that was somewhere between approval and "at least you're not wearing jeans and work boots."
Mr. Haverty had been our family lawyer for as long as I could remember. His office handled all the legal work for the business and whatever personal needs we had. Kathy and her folks were waiting for us in the driveway and the six of us piled into mom's big Dinali. Dad drove while mom rode shotgun. Uncle Red and Aunt Deedee were behind them in the second row while Kathy and I, as we had been from station wagons to mini-vans to SUVs, were relegated to the back.
Kathy gave me a look that was almost identical to mom's. I guess you could say that I wasn't well known for my fashion sense. Kathy, on the other hand, looked great. She wore an emerald green dress with a cream colored lining that showed on the folded collar and short sleeves. I briefly noted that it fit her very well as I allowed her to precede me.
Kathy was equally comfortable in her work scrubs or dressed to the nines. Ever since she started nursing school she would wear one of the dozens of pairs of scrubs she owned as we hung out at one house or the other. She even used one of her scrub tops as a cover-up over her bikini when we would hang out by her parent's pool.
Kathy is only 5'2", but she inherited Aunt Deedee's figure. Stacked is one word you could use to describe them both. Her scrubs concealed that fact, but couldn't truly hide it. The dress she wore this day did neither. I had often heard her complain to our moms that her hips and butt were too big, something none of her various boyfriends had ever done. I certainly didn't see the issue.
"I am very sorry for your loss," Mr. Haverty said as we took seats in front of his large antique desk. It was a loss for him, too, I thought. Even though Mr. Haverty was dad's age, he and Grandpop had been friends. I know that they had gone to lunch together at least once a week.
Mr. Haverty began listing the provisions of Grandpop's will. There were substantial donations to the VFW and the Wounded Warrior Project. The business, to no one's surprise, was left equally to Dad and Uncle Red. The document arranged for all his debts, few as they were, to be paid from his assets. Everything was listed neatly on the sheets we held. Bank accounts and a substantial stock portfolio were to be liquidated. Kathy and I were each given $15,000. The rest was split between our parents.
"Finally," Mr. Haverty read, "I leave my home and all it's contents to my grandchildren, William Dillon Kelly III and Kathleen Deirdre Kelly, share and share alike." I was stunned. I looked over at Kathy and noted the surprise on her face as well.
Our grandparent's house sat outside of town on nearly five acres of property. It was a good size home that Grandpop had built just a few years after starting his business. The exterior was stone and wood with a porch that extended the entire length of the long front. There were four bedrooms, three bathrooms, formal living room and dining room, an unbelievably comfortable den, and a country kitchen that could be in a magazine.
As old as it was it still had all the modern conveniences while maintaining it's original style. Grandpop called it his "project." Grandmom, with a twinkle in her eye, had called it "his mistress." The house had been lovingly maintained over the years while the plumbing and electrical system had been unobtrusively modernized. The house was even wired for cable and data.
Grandpop's house was the main topic of conversation as our families ate lunch in our kitchen after finishing at Mr. Haverty's. As we talked, it seemed that our two best options were selling it and splitting the proceeds, or one of us buying out the other.
Kathy and I decided that we'd like to take a look before we made any decision. An hour later we had changed and traveled across town to the old house. I parked in front of the barn that held the old green tractor and followed Kathy up the front steps on to the porch. We hesitated for a moment before unlocking the front door. The house sure held a lot of memories. For nearly an hour we wandered through the familiar rooms, both of us lost in our own thoughts.
"I can't bear the thought of someone else living here," Kathy said as we sat on the couch in the den.
"Neither can I. It's been in the family for years."
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