by Selena Kitt
“Look who’s talking.” I reached across her to dry my hands and she grabbed my arm, pulling it around her back.
“What makes me more of a slut?” she whispered, hooking her bare foot behind my knee and spreading her legs to pull me in close. “Letting Ken take my arse tonight or me wanting to fuck you?”
My breath caught and I chided my cock for rising at the thought of her arse in the air, that puckered hole she had asked me to finger waiting for the plunge of something much larger and demanding. It wasn’t listening, though, my cock. It had a mind of its own. It knew just what it wanted—and what it wanted was sitting right here splayed on the washroom counter in this treacherous feminine form.
“Come on.” Dawn slipped her arms around my neck, her breath hot against my ear. “Enquiring minds want to know. Which is worse?”
“Dawn…” I swallowed and closed my eyes as she shifted, hooking her other leg around me and snuggling her crotch right up against mine. “God…”
“I was thinking about you the whole time.”
Her whispered words stopped everything inside of me. It was what I’d been afraid of and secretly—or not so secretly—hoping for. I slid my arms around her waist, under Ken’s shirt, which reeked of some awful cologne and was giving me a headache. Her skin was soft as down and I wanted to bury every part of myself in it.
I almost choked on my own words. “I was thinking of you too. I couldn’t help myself.”
She sighed and melted in my arms, turning her face up to be kissed. I hated the thought of her mouth anywhere near the twat sleeping right now in her bed, but I didn’t taste a trace of him on her when I slipped my tongue in to touch hers. She tasted just like she always did—sweet, a little like almonds and honey. I had a feeling she hadn’t, at any point, kissed Ken tonight like she was kissing me now—mouth hungry and eager, hands roaming all over my body as if making sure I was real, solid, and here to stay. At least, I hoped she hadn’t.
“Did you like his cock in your arse?” I bit the words off, each one, leaving angry red love bites on her neck as I pulled the shirt down over her shoulders. She slipped her arms out of the sleeves, lifting my shirt off so she could press herself fully against me, her breasts flattening against my chest as her mouth sought mine again.
But I wouldn’t kiss her. Instead, I cupped her chin, squeezing her mouth with my thumb and first finger, tugging gently at her lower lip. “Answer me. Did you like his cock in your tight little arse?”
I’d seen plenty of pictures of anal sex—Yank did a whole issue devoted to it once—but I don’t think Dawn knew how much I’d thought about it, how that sweet, dark hole intrigued and called me into its humid depths. The thought of her arse up in the air being fucked made me want to bend her over right now and shove it into her with a force that would wake both Julie and Ken and make Dawn wail.
“Why? Are you jealous?” Her tone was teasing as she jerked her head out of my hand and reached between us, grabbing onto the steel length of me and squeezing out a torturous rhythm.
I rolled my eyes convincingly—I hoped. “Why should I be jealous of him? The guy’s all foam and no beer.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
I snorted. “His chimney’s clogged…he doesn’t have all his Weetabix in one box…his lift doesn’t go all the way to the top…he forgot to pay his brain bill…”
“David, stop!”
“You deserve better than him. Kenny Moore is living proof that evolution can go in reverse!”
She tried to look cross, but she couldn’t help smiling. “Well…I have to admit, his aerial doesn’t pick up all the channels…” Dawn giggled and even I had to grin at her attempt to play my game. “But he’s a good kisser.”
That did it. I grabbed her bottom and pulled her off the sink, crushing her mouth to mine. She tried to gasp, breathe, something, but I wouldn’t let her, my tongue probing hers, my hands spreading her arse cheeks, kneading her flesh with my fingers. We parted breathless and I looked down into her glazed eyes for a moment, waiting for her to say something. Instead she sank to her knees and took me into her mouth.
“Oh God, Dawnie…”
Her tongue ran like silk around the sensitive head of my cock, her fingernails tickling the hair on my balls, her other hand stroking me as she began to suck, the mischievous tilt of her eyes never leaving mine. I could have watched her suck me forever—the pink slide of her lips taut around my shaft, the stretch of her tongue to reach my balls when she took all of me in, the reddened swelling of her mouth as she rubbed the head against her cheek before taking me again—could have watched her until she made me shoot the load I’d been saving for her all night right down that sweet, swallowing little throat. But Dawn had other ideas. Better ideas. And who was I to argue?
“I heard you fucking her…” She whispered her words as she outlined her mouth with the head of my cock like she was using a lipstick tube, spreading my precum over her lips. “Did you like her pussy? Did she make you come hard?”
I didn’t want to think about the girl sleeping in my bed. I didn’t want to admit that I’d had sex with anyone else but Dawn, and the absurd, twisted paradox of it threatened to make my skull explode as she stood and let me taste the pre-cum gloss on her lips.
“Did you like hers as much as mine?” She brought my hand between her legs and the heat there threatened to burn my palm as I cupped her bare flesh and slid a finger into her wetness. She sighed and shifted her hips forward, leaning her hands back against the counter and already involuntarily trying to fuck my hand, her eyes half-closing. She was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen, before or since, and I wanted her more than I was willing to admit, even to myself. I couldn’t resist and there was no point trying. I sank to my knees and pressed my face to her pussy, the motion of my lips and tongue making her gasp and then moan and rock against me.
“You licked her, didn’t you?” Dawn’s hands moved in my hair as she eased her bottom onto the sink and spread her legs wider. “You ate her hot, wet little cunt until she came all over your face, didn’t you, Davey?”
I made a muffled, choking noise against her flesh and then sucked the tiny nub of her clit into my mouth, making her head go back, a low growling sound coming from her throat. She tasted like a fig, just as wrinkled and puckered, too, my tongue finding its way through the folds in her flesh. I thought she was going to give me her come, let me take it, draw it out of her like a bee’s search for a sweet meal, but Dawn had, as I said, other ideas. Better ones.
“I bet she didn’t let you fuck her arse, did she?”
I groaned, even with my tongue pressed into the juicy hole of her pussy, my nose rubbing up against her clit. She pulled my head back, my face smeared with her juices, and slid down to stand onto the floor again. Her eyes were on mine, that mischievous look back in them again, a light I’d come to recognise and love.
“But you’d like to get your prick into a tight little arsehole, wouldn’t you?” Her thumb rubbed her wetness over my lips and chin, her eyes following her fingers’ trail. “Especially if it was my tight little arsehole…wouldn’t you?”
I couldn’t speak. I could barely think. The only thing leading me was the hot throb of my prick, sticking straight up from my lap like an arrow pointing the way as she turned around and bent over the sink. When she opened her legs, reaching both of her hands back to spread her cheeks, I saw it all—the swollen, fleshy part of her pussy lips, the pink glistening through, and especially the fluted pucker above it, winking at me like a teasing promise.
“You want that?” She furrowed her arsehole, squeezing her muscles and releasing. “Tell me. Tell me you want to fuck my arse.” I groaned as she pressed one of her fingers to that groove, watching as the tip disappeared. My cock drooled at the sight of it and I gripped it tight, as if I could keep it collared.
“Dawnie…”
She fucked the pucker of her arse with one finger, her eyes watching me for a reaction. I felt dazed, sick w
ith my own lust, but my cock didn’t care. Never mind that the girl I’d brought home was still asleep in my bed, and the bloke I’d heard Dawn fucking was just down the hall. Never mind we were shut up in the loo. Never mind that the arse in front of me belonged to a girl I wasn’t even supposed to be thinking about this way, let alone looking at or touching. My cock wanted what it wanted and I knew we were going in.
“Wait!” Dawn squealed as I pressed the mushroom head of my prick between her open cheeks. She whirled around, her eyes wide, wagging a finger in my face. She looked so much like she used to when I was a tot that for a moment I froze. I flashed to the time she took me to the corner shop and caught me stealing, and I was so lost in the memory that, for a moment, I didn’t even register what she was saying. “Don’t ever try to put your cock into a girl’s arse without lubing up first, you twat!”
Before I knew what was happening, she grabbed a bottle of lotion off the washroom counter, rubbing the thick stuff between her fingers to warm it before slathering it over my prick. I groaned, watching as she worked it up and down my shaft like a salve with her greasy hands. She was still shaking her head and muttering to herself about how daft I was, just like she had when she dragged me back to the store to apologise for stealing, yanking at my dick now like she’d yanked at my hand then, urging me to keep up.
That memory stayed, superimposed on the moment, and I remembered how long her strides had been, how shiny and blonde her hair was in the sun as she swung it over her shoulder and looked down at me with that sharp, disapproving look in her eyes. I’d never wanted to please anyone else more than in that moment and was filled with the shame of disappointing her. I didn’t care so much about the sweets in my pocket or even that it was wrong to steal—which, of course, I knew. My longing had overcome my young moral sense. I’d wanted it so much, had stood there shifting my weight from foot to foot while Dawn turned the pages of a teenager’s magazine from the rack and I just ached for it.
Just like I’m aching for her now.
I watched, feeling as if time had slipped into some sort of lapse. Dawn stood, just as tall and beautiful as she’d been then, and leaned in to kiss me. My body was shaking in anticipation and although I was taller than she was now, I still felt young as she instructed me on what to do and how to do it, turning to bend over the sink again.
“You have to go slow, David. Slowwwww.” She dragged the last word out, glaring over her shoulder. “Do you hear me?”
Her voice was chastising, just like the quintessential older sister, and I nodded my head earnestly, not trusting my voice. I thought it would come out in a squeak or the tenor of my youth, before my voice changed. I pressed the head of my cock against her arsehole and remembered that moment in the store, wanting it, longing for it, aching. I didn’t have any money left and she wouldn’t buy it for me and so I’d taken it. Just slipped it into my pocket—a secret, shameful, burning delight.
My mistake was taking it out to admire it before we got home. I thought Dawn was too involved with her magazine but I was wrong. She saw it out of the corner of her eye and, although I stuffed it quickly into my pocket again before she could turn her head, she knew.
“Oh! God! Easy, David!” Dawn’s voice drew me back to the present and I looked down to where her trembling hands held her buttocks open as I inched my way in. I could see her face in the mirror as she bit her lip, her eyelids fluttering closed and then open again, her eyes trying to focus on mine. “Feels so…big!”
Flushing with an instant feeling of pride, I still hesitated, worried about her. “Does it hurt?” I asked and began to pull back, but she shook her head, arching and pressing against me, forcing the head of my cock to ease further in, making me groan at the sensation. It was so tight!
“Don’t stop!” she insisted, spreading herself even wider, the softly fluted hole of her arse accepting me in little flutters, the feel of it around my cock like the hottest, tightest little mouth in the world. I stood transfixed, wondering at the darkness I was slowly sinking into, when Dawn gave a sharp gasp and reached back with both hands to grab my hips and pull me into her completely.
“Ohhhhh fuck!” I wasn’t expecting it and just the knowledge that my cock was buried in her arse nearly made me lose it right then and there. Add to that the swell of Dawn’s quivering behind settled into the saddle of my hips, her greasy hands gripping my thighs, and the way her breath fogged the mirror as she begged me to fuck her—“Fuck my arse! Do it! Do it!”—and it was almost hopeless. The only way I could keep from coming was to close my eyes, throw my head back, and remember the feeling of disappointing her that day, the critical look on her face, the shame of returning to the shop, my sweaty, nervous hand tucked into hers.
“Dawn,” I croaked, gripping her hips. “Hold still.” Thank God she did as I asked. I took a few deep breaths before daring to open my eyes and meet hers in the mirror. She had that sly smirk, that mischievous look, and that’s when I felt the tight hole of her arse squeezing itself around my cock. “Oh god…Dawn…”
“You like being in my arse?” She was teasing, the pink tip of her tongue raking over her teeth as she flipped her hair over her shoulder and glanced back at me. “Is that tight? Is that nice and tight and hot around your big cock?”
“Yes!” I groaned, leaning into her and sliding my hands down into the V of her crotch. “You know it is.”
“Yesssss...” She smiled, meeting my eyes in the mirror and wiggling back against me. “And I love you in my arse…feels so much better than Kenny’s wee little thing…”
She knew exactly what her words were doing to me. My fingers found the soft, open part of her pussy lips, seeking the hard nub of her clit. She sighed and shifted, letting me know I’d found it, moving her hips in delicious circles and forcing my cock deeper inside of her. “Ahhh yes, yes…that’s it…”
“You really like it?” I searched her eyes in the mirror, seeking her approval, her assent, and found it. She rocked back against me, spreading her legs wide to allow me to rub her clit faster. She was beautiful bent over the washroom sink, propped up on her elbows, her heavy breasts swaying as I started to really fuck her. God, but that hole was tight! The head of my cock deliciously grazed the hot, spasming band of muscle before sinking deep again. Her eyes fluttered closed and opened again, her cheek resting against the mirror, her breath making a fine mist over its surface as she moaned softly with each stroke.
“Yes, baby,” she whispered, tilting her hips, an offering, a question—More? More? “Oh god, I was thinking about you the whole time...” Our bodies slapped together now, my cock sinking deep into her tight channel, the lotion she’d coated me with easing the way, and still, it was so snug! “I was wishing it was you…oh Davey, I wanted you. I wanted your cock in my arse. I wanted this…I wanted this…”
“I wanted it, too.” My admission burned through me. “I want you. All of you. All the time. I can’t stop…God, Dawn, you’re…”
“Harder, David!” she insisted, rolling her hips, driving me on. I wasn’t going to be able to hold out much longer. The sweet pull of her arse, that shockingly stretched dimple of flesh swallowing my cock again and again, was sending me past the point of reason or thought or anything but pure sensation. She had given it to me, had longed for me, wanted me, ached for this as much as I had, and now she submitted completely and lost herself. I couldn’t argue, I couldn’t resist, I couldn’t do anything but surrender to her lust and my own.
And so I did the only thing I could do—I fucked her harder, driving both of us toward a delicious finish, her little clit swollen against my fingers. I wanted to bury all of myself into her, climb inside her somehow, and I shoved my fingers into her pussy, making her gasp and writhe. I felt my cock slipping into her arse, felt it through that thin barrier of flesh, and groaned at the sensation.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck!” She repeated it over and over, her eyes unfocused, her tongue sneaking out to touch the corner of her mouth. She rubbed her cheek
against the coolness of the mirror, her lips pressing there, too, as if she were kissing herself, or some smooth, one-dimensional twin. The sight was incredibly hot and I felt that delicious buzzing in my balls, the sweet tightening that meant there was no going back.
“Dawnie, I’m gonna come,” I groaned, working the head of my cock back and forth at the hot opening of her arse. “Can I…? Can I…?”
“Come in my arse!” Her hands pressed, palms flat, against the mirror and she arched her back. “Fill my arse! Fill it with all your hot cum!”
There was no stopping it. My cock slid deep as her hand covered mine, rocking her pussy against my fingers, bringing herself off too. I felt her spasms, her pussy clamping down on my fingers, drawing them in, while her arsehole contracted, as if trying to push me out. This paradox was delightful, my cock caught right in the middle of the exquisite mesh of it all, pushed and pulled to the brink.
I growled low in my throat as I felt the first surge coming up deep from my pelvis and finally spewing in delicious jets from the end of my cock, filling the dark, hot cavity of her arse. Our bodies melded together in that moment, both of us quivering with sensation, Dawn’s sweet climax coming in bursts like sunspots, almost blinding in their beauty. I closed my eyes to it and ground my hips into hers, unable to stop the wicked pleasure flooding through me as I filled the most secret part of her body with my cum.
I could barely stand—my legs still shook with the force of my orgasm. Dawn’s body was sticky and so was mine, but her skin gave off a bronze heat, and she was like velvet in my arms when she turned and wrapped her arms around my neck, giving me a long, soft, sweet kiss. I just held her, both of us still breathing hard, pretending the washroom was some other world, not connected to our house or the people who lived in it—us included.
“We need to stop doing this.” Dawn’s eyes met mine. She looked sad and her words made me want to double over in pain.
Instead, I buried my face in her neck and breathed in her musky scent, and used an oft-repeated and used childhood phrase between us, only half joking, “You started it.”
