His Best Friend's Little Sister

by Vivian Wood

  “Better?” she asked.

  “Much better. I could eat this all day.” She laughed, arching her back and pushing her pussy against his face. He sucked and kissed on her clit, lifting his head every so often to see how much wetter she’d become.

  The sounds of the softly clicking timer could barely be heard over her groans. “Fuck me?” she started asking, but he didn’t answer.

  Her folds were completely engorged and coated in her juices. “God, Henry,” she called out, fucking his face vigorously. “Are you going to fuck me? Please.”

  “Sorry, kitten,” he told her. “Not until you’re ready.”

  When the timer rang, Ellie slammed it off. “You want me to fuck you?” he asked, looking up at her. She glared at him, too frustrated to speak. “Why don’t you hand me that?” he asked, nodding to one of the extra carrots beside her. Ellie’s eyes widened. She picked up the smaller of the two, but he corrected her. “Come on, you can take bigger than that,” he told her. “I want you to watch.”

  Standing between her legs, he slid a thumb into her mouth. “Suck,” he commanded. With her saliva, he kept working her clit with one hand while positioning the carrot at the start of her wetness.

  “Henry…”

  “No talking.” He inserted it, inch by inch, keeping an eye on her face as she watched herself take it all in.

  “It’s cold,” she told him, but pushed against it.

  “I said no talking.” As he started to fuck her, she let her head fall back. “Keep watching,” he instructed.

  He made her come quickly, no more teasing or stopping. “Fuck. Oh my—fuck, Henry,” she cried as her pussy took in the whole thing.

  “Good girl,” he whispered into her neck, kissing it as she shuddered. Sliding the carrot out slowly, each movement sending new shockwaves through her, he was fully aware of just how hard he was. “Taste yourself,” he told her, holding the carrot to her lips—now warm and covered in her come.

  Ellie responded without hesitation, lapping her juices up. “See how sweet you are?” he asked.

  “I want to taste you,” she told him, full-blown desire in her eyes.

  Without a word, he backed up and unbuckled his jeans. “Get on your knees.”

  Her eyes got bigger at his size, but she didn’t move away. “Just the tip,” he reassured her, and she parted her lips. Henry took his cock and spread his pre-cum across her lips, one hand gently on her head. She licked her lips and opened her mouth.

  Feeling himself in her mouth, he knew he wouldn’t be able to last long. “Damn,” he told her, resisting the urge to fuck her mouth. Don’t hurt her. You don’t want to hurt her.

  One of her hands was on his thigh. He placed his palm on it, guiding her to encircle the base of his shaft and stroke his tightening balls. “I’ll tell you when,” he whispered. He didn’t want her to swallow him if she wasn’t ready. If she didn’t want to.

  He could sense her confidence growing, lips wrapped around teeth as she started to take him farther into her mouth. Henry used all his willpower to not pound the back of her throat. He was covered in her saliva. Where’s her other hand?

  Looking down, he could see that she’d started playing with herself as she continued to suck and lick him. She’s insatiable. The sight of her fingering herself got him closer to coming.

  “Almost.” He pulled her hair into a knot at the back of her head to get a clear view. She was going at him like she couldn’t get enough. Every time she pulled back to his tip, he was given a clear shot down the T-shirt to her stunning breasts.

  “Fuck, now. I’m going to come now.” Instead of pulling away, she grasped the back of his thighs and took him deeper into her mouth than ever. He could feel himself emptying into her mouth. He wanted, desperately, for her to swallow him but knew he couldn’t ask that of her.

  She held him in her mouth until he started to soften. When she finally released him, she smiled up at his face. She’d taken all of it in one clean swallow. “Damn, you’re like a pro,” he told her. She giggled as she cleaned him up, licking the last of his come from his shaft, being careful at the tip knowing how sensitive he was.

  “You taste good,” she told him, sitting back on her heels. “But I knew you would.”

  “And what about you?” he asked. “I saw you getting yourself off again.” She blushed, but barely. “Did you come?”

  She shook her head. “I was too… preoccupied.”

  He couldn’t stop replaying how she'd looked on her knees before him. Already, he was starting to harden again. “You want me to take care of that?”

  “Yes, please.” She removed the shirt and tossed it onto the breakfast table, ready for him to fuck her properly on the kitchen floor.

  22

  Ellie lowered one heel followed by the other in downward facing dog. Her lengthened calf muscles were a reminder of just how sore she was. When she’d found that yoga mat crammed into the far reaches of the hallway closet, she saw it as a sign. That’s what you need, she’d told herself. A little grounding. Some balance.

  Of course, she’d forgotten any workout clothes. When Henry had told her he was going for a run, after her initial shock and protest of, “You’re going to fall on your ass in the snow!” she’d cranked up the heat and set up her practice space by the fire. Stripped to her underwear and the tightest tank top she had as a makeshift sports bra, she felt her body greedily fall into a yoga flow. When was the last time you moved like this—without the promise of something more to come?

  She followed one breath per movement and closed her eyes as she went through one sun salutation vinyasa flow at a time. Her forward folds and halfway lifts gave her a clean view of her thighs. Jesus. Are those all hickeys? Her usually flawlessly white thighs were covered in Henry’s marks.

  As she jumped back into plank pose and lowered herself to a hover before she transitioned to up dog, Ellie found that it was easier than ever to “shine her chest forward” as one of her yoga teachers always said. Her back had grown accustomed to arching like that. She rolled over her toes and back into downward dog, where she took the luxury once again of “walking the dog.” Yes. This was exactly what her body was craving.

  “Nice view,” Henry said from the doorway. Ellie opened her eyes and peered between her knees, still in her downward dog.

  “Don’t get any ideas,” she told him. “You got your workout in, so let me get mine.”

  Henry held up his hands and shook his head. “Hey, I’m not interrupting,” he said. “Just enjoying being a spectator.”

  “Yoga isn’t a spectator sport,” she said with a smile. She bent her knees and glanced forward before she jumped to the top of the mat and into forward fold.

  “Maybe it should be,” he said. “I’d watch it. Or, I should say, I’d watch you.”

  She was acutely aware of her position as she let the gravity of her body send her head toward her toes. With her body folded in half, all Henry could see was her ass bent over and her fingers intertwined with her ponytail as they rested on the mat.

  Upside down, she watched him as he peeled off his wet running shirt. “Good run?” she asked.

  “Better than nothing,” he said. “And I’ll have you know, I didn’t fall on my ass once. Close, but still. Damn, kitten,” he said. She watched his eyes crawl over her body.

  “Don’t even think about it,” she said. “I’m sweaty and gross.”

  “Then we’re in the same boat!” he said as he came toward her in just his track pants. As he stood behind her, he gripped her hips and pressed his growing hardness into her backside. “Is this what you usually wear to yoga class?” he asked as he ran a hand down her folded back.

  “Always,” she said as she let out a laugh. Slowly, she rose to a standing position but didn’t turn to face him. Instead, she continued through her asana, even as she felt his heat behind her.

  Ellie raised her arms overhead, and his hands followed. He brushed down her hands and traced the outline of her arms
all the way down and across to her chest. “What do you call this pose?” he asked her. She felt him go fully erect and her wetness started to spread.

  “I call it…” she began, as she lowered her arms and placed her hands on his as they massaged her breasts, “kama-sutra-asana.” Finally, she turned and faced him. “If you want me to fuck you, get on the mat.” Even as she heard her voice, she couldn’t believe it was her. Where did that come from?

  Henry opened his mouth to protest, but she silenced him with just a look. When he reached for her tank top to lift it over her head, she slapped his hand away. “You’re not in control right now,” she told him. His eyes bored into hers, questioning, but she wasn’t going to give up that easily.

  When Henry was on his back on the mat, she stood over him and slowly pulled the tank top over her head. His cock jumped beneath his track pants. “Take those off,” she told him. After he pulled them off, she smelled a wave of pure masculinity—his sweat and musk from the cold run. Ellie hooked her thumbs into her underwear and pulled them down her legs slowly. She held his gaze and kept her legs and back straight so he’d crave the view from behind. Her underwear was in one hand, and she wrapped it twice around her wrist.

  “What are you—”

  “I’ll need this in a minute,” she said as she held one finger to her lips to quiet him.

  She looked at his hardness, so familiar to her by now. No matter how many times she had him, she couldn’t get enough. “Watch me,” she said as she brought a hand to her center and started to rub circles into her clit. When Henry reached for himself, she corrected him. “No,” she said. “Just watch.”

  She knew she wasn’t going to make herself come, but he didn’t need to know that. Frustration grew in his eyes as she stood over him, one hand urged on her wetness while the other played with her breasts. “Now,” she said, straddling his torso, “I’m going to lower myself onto that big cock of yours.” In one long, slow movement, she lowered down onto him.

  He fit perfectly into her, just as she knew he would. “Oh, fuck,” Henry said as he watched himself disappear into her. Ellie’s feet were flat on the mat on either side of him, her knees pointing to the cathedral ceiling.

  “You are sweaty,” she said with a laugh. She didn’t move, just enjoyed how he felt fully inside her.

  “Sorry?” Was he asking her if it was okay? The sudden shift in dynamics made her even hotter.

  “You should be. Lucky for you, I like it,” she said as she ran a hand up his glistening chest. “But you’ll still need to be disciplined, you know,” she teased.

  “How’s that?” he asked as he rocked underneath her, desperate for her to move.

  “Well,” she said as she toyed with the underwear on her wrist. It was mixed with her wetness and the slightest hint of her own sweat from those endless sun salutations. “I think, personally, you’ve seen enough for today.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Show’s over,” she said as she leaned over him and wrapped her underwear around his eyes.

  As she double-knotted the silky blue underwear behind his head and looked down at him, she realized—for the first time—she really had permission to look. To take him in without a thought to be embarrassed. She could do anything. This was going to be fun.

  “How many fingers am I holding up?” she asked him as she placed one hand on his stomach and began to lift and lower herself onto his cock.

  “I don’t know,” he said. His breath caught in his throat.

  “Guess,” she said, even as her other hand rested on her own thigh.

  “Three,” he said, and she lifted herself almost completely off of him. Only that sensitive tip remained inside.

  “Wrong,” she said with a laugh. “Maybe an open-ended question will be easier for you.” Henry’s hands reached up to her, and she could tell he wanted to force her onto him. But he stopped, knowing better. This was a new kind of game. And with Ellie’s feet firmly on the floor as she crouched over him, she could easily just stand up and walk away—if she wanted to.

  “Okay,” he said.

  “What do you love most about my body?” she asked with a smile. He bit his lip.

  “Everything,” he said. “How your tits bounce when I’m fucking you hard.” She lowered partially onto him and he gasped. “The taste of your come on my tongue, like the most decadent thing I’ve ever known.” She lowered an inch and started using him to stir her center.

  “And?” she asked.

  “Your ass is perfect,” he said. “When I spank you, it instantly shows my handprint. I love biting your ass… eating it… licking that rim and enjoying that close up view of your clit getting swollen.”

  “What else?” she asked as she lowered a little more and stirred faster.

  “Your face,” he said. “I love seeing your lips on my cock. How you look at me when I come inside you. How you look sleeping in my arms. I’ve… I’ve always loved that face.” Ellie fell completely onto his hardness and started to ride him. Always?

  Her hands pressed into his chest, and she couldn’t believe it had happened like this. Two weeks ago, she’d never thought he would ever be like this—letting her have her way with him. For the first time, she watched all the little nuances. The shapes his mouth made when he was inside her, and how he’d slowly shake his head from side to side. Like he couldn’t believe it either.

  Ellie leaned over him, put her hands on either side of his face and lowered her breasts to his mouth. When he felt her nipple as it brushed across his lips, he started kissing and sucking like it was all he’d ever wanted. She bounced harder. Their combined wetness made a slapping sound every time he pushed against her G-spot.

  “You love this body?” she asked him. She could tell she was close to coming.

  “I love it,” he whispered, his head buried between her breasts. “I love your body.”

  That put her over the edge, and she called out his name as she ground herself into him. She came so hard it forced him to come, too. The feeling of his come inside her gave her an entirely new, second wave of an orgasm.

  She lifted off of him and removed her underwear from his face. Henry blinked into the sudden brightness.

  I love your body. It was, she realized, almost what she wanted him to say. Is this something more than just the dopamine? she wondered. As she’d been coming, she’d felt that familiar heart squeeze again.

  Don’t be stupid. Henry’s not interested in you like that. At least, she was pretty certain. Should she say something? No. Everything was already too perfect. Why ruin it?

  23

  The guilt nearly chewed all the way through him. What the hell is wrong with you? There was something about being here, secluded from the real world, that made him not care about a fallout. In normal circumstances, he’d tackle an issue like this head on, no problem. But with this, it would mean confessing to Eli. And if that happened, that would mean no more Ellie. He couldn't give that up. Not yet.

  It wasn’t just the sex, either. She just made him feel so good. Even that one time, when she took control and they were both so sweaty. He’d never been into being controlled before. But she’d done it so naturally, and he'd felt like he'd been given a gift. Like he’d seen a part of her nobody knew she had—not even her.

  Hidden away in the office, he’d told Ellie he needed to work. That was bullshit, and she probably knew it. He’d actually been meaning to write, like his therapist had recommended. But when he’d sat down at the laptop, he found he didn’t have anything to write about. When had the nightmares stopped? All he could come up with was writing about Ellie, and that certainly wasn’t going to help him out any.

  Slumped in the office chair, he noticed a stack of papers on the shelf. Ellie’s vet school application. You’re an asshole for distracting her. She was twenty-two years old, and he remembered that age. You didn’t know what the hell you wanted to do, should do, or anything else. It was equal parts wonderful and terrifying. When you knew you had
your whole life ahead of you, it could also be paralyzing. That was part of what had attracted him to the military. When you didn’t know what to do with your life, why not let someone else make every decision for you down to how you make your bed?

  Ellie deserved better. Better than him, that was for sure.

  He’d also been avoiding Eli’s calls. When Ellie had been on the phone with her “mom,” he'd suspected it was really Eli. It was confirmed a few days later when her mom suspiciously began calling on a regular basis. “Has Eli called?” he finally asked. He knew Ellie found it a lot more difficult to blatantly lie rather than lie by omission.

  “Yeah…” she’d said as she searched for the right words.

  “Oh.” That was all he’d said. Every time the phone rang after that, he headed straight for the bathroom and flipped on the shower. Ellie never asked him why.

  But at night? After they fucked? Things had started to shift. They talked more, really talked. He’d started opening up and revealing more of himself to her. He’d even told her about his first awkward breakup with Stephie, and how he’d made himself think about his parents dying when Stephie got angry that he hadn’t cried.

  “I think Eli’s okay with me leaving D.C.,” Ellie had told him.

  “Really?” he said. It was the first time she’d earnestly mentioned moving away. Was he just a distraction for her in the moment? A way to kill time? Obviously, she’d been mulling things over.

  “Yeah,” she’d said as she stretched out across his bed. She looked surreal in that morning light, the pink rays from the sun splayed across her skin. “But I don’t know. Eli’s been worried before about the distance, about me being so far away. I mean it is pretty far, and it’s not like there aren’t great schools around—”