She wanted.
She wanted it whole, and she wanted it exactly now.
In a quick, functional motion, she pulled down her jeans, and brought her panties right along with them.
Before he could react to the hunger which was now burning through her eyes, she was on him, squatting astride him on the sofa, rudely pulling his shoulders into the position she wanted him – and oh, how she wanted him.
She grabbed the back of the sofa firmly, to give herself the strongest possible purchase. And then she started to rub herself against him.
At first, it was her pubic hair, against his shiveringly stiffened cock.
She could feel it coming already. Her arousal had been so sudden, so strong, that her body was only now catching up to her. The walls of her pussy were breaking out in painful pinpricks as it moistened, steadily, quickly, but still enragingly slow.
She tilted herself backwards, and now, it was her clit, and the upper folds of her slit that rubbed against him. The growing wetness drew another moan from him – almost a kitten's mewl.
But she didn't hear him. She didn't see or hear anything at all – just felt the hardness of his torso against her breasts, still constrained in her t-shirt and bra, and beginning to be run through with deep-reaching twinges of pain reaching down to the unbearable core of tension in the cavern of her chest.
She kept rubbing herself up and down, methodically, all-encompassingly.
With a low, bestial grunt, she shoved herself off him, and hovered over him for a few, eternal seconds.
She gripped him by the base of his cock, and positioned him at her entrance. She kept her balance with a hand half on his shoulder, half on his neck, her thumb arcing across it in what could, at a moment's notice, turn into the same stranglehold she held his member in.
She slid his tip across herself – once, twice, three times. James felt his butt clench and the whole length of his legs spasm with the excruciating pleasure of it.
And then he sunk inside her. It was just his first third, his first 2-and-a-half inches of his 7 or 8. But to Brenda, it felt like he had reached all the way through her and wrapped a fist around her heart.
To James, it was simply indescribable – so extreme a feeling, that he couldn't even truly feel it as it happened, let alone remember it afterwards. It was an uncontainable embrace.
Brenda let out an endless sigh of the promise of satisfaction, let the moment wash over her, and then continued, brutally, at her work. She still had another 5, maybe 6 inches to get through, and she felt her pussy finally get the message, and start gushing along with her.
She worked her hips left and right, swiveling back and forth, screwing herself onto him, bringing him within her, feeling herself unfold, unfurl for him, create the space for all of him, to complete himself in her.
She would withdraw half an inch, drag in a shuddering breath, and press back on, press him back in.
3 inches... 4... 5... and still there was more, still she was not there. She was bursting to feel him press against her utmost depths, crush her cervix with his hardness, feel her clit fold perfectly onto his base.
Back up to 4... 3... a rasping inhalation... and then a thrusting slide to 5.
And then, she felt it happen.
His cock, already impossible hard, engorged to new proportions. It burst outward, a punch inside her, pushing the air out her lungs and into a sudden shout.
It shuddered, shivered, rocked within her.
And then he came.
She felt his semen burst forth, into her constricted space. She felt its warmth, its improbable solidity, felt it fill her absolutely, until there could be nothing but him within her.
And it kept coming. In cresting waves and thudding impacts, his cock convulsed twice, thrice, four times, more...
She folded him completely within her arms, crushing her breasts against the unbending firmness of his chest, as he heaved and shook and quaked in great gasps, his heart hammering to burst.
And she slid him further inside her. There was no more resistance. There would be no more retreats, no pause, no end until he bottomed out within her.
Every ounce of her pulled him deeper, and she felt the pocket of his cum – a lake inside her, pressed upwards with nowhere to retreat to – leak and run in rivers down his shaft, and escape, bubbling, from the tight packedness of her entrance.
She slid him 6... 7... beyond...
And then, she had reached it. Her clit nestled against the ultimate intransigence of his pubic bone, and she knew that there was nothing more she could fit inside her.
A moan escaped her that seemed to go on forever. It held within it an inseparable mix of satisfaction and regret – a song of endless longing.
She knew she would not cum – not just now. To be sure, that pressure would have to be released – would absolutely be released, even if she had to tear the heavens down to let it free.
But for now, she was full, and could take a moment to bask. Having pushed back her absolution for the moment, she could shunt aside frustration, and let herself take it in stages, and find her enjoyment in the now.
She just held herself against him, holding him inside her, taking long, deep breaths, a counterpoint to the jittering spasms of James' own breathing.
She rubbed herself gently against him, making herself a promise for later, teaching herself how good it would feel.
She stayed like this for a few slow minutes, feeling him gradually soften, bringing back the pained pinpricks inside her, which were begging for fulfillment. But she held them back, contained them, enjoyed the torture of their burning thirst.
With a final sigh, she felt she must let the moment go. She shifted herself marginally to one side, and his penis flopped out of her, followed, with a plop, by a heavy glob of cum.
She pushed herself back slightly, so she could see his face.
It was flushed a bright red, and his eyes swam in the bottomless oceans of another world. He still breathed in light, rapid pants, as if not quite reconciled to the process yet.
She kissed him, gently, on the lips – a few times. He didn't react at all.
So Brenda gingerly lifted herself off the sofa, and onto her unsteady feet.
James came to, slightly, at that moment – at the sight of Brenda's full, soft ass bouncing back and forth across the living room, and back to her seat at the kitchen table, a trail of their juices trickling down her thighs.
For the next few minutes, he just sat there, paralyzed, regaining himself. He stared at Brenda's perfect face: it was frowning at something she had seen on her computer screen, little wrinkles appearing around her eyes.
When he had recovered enough to have tangible emotions, he noticed that there was some fear in him, some uncertainty, and plenty of insecurity.
But there was little nervousness.
And there was no doubt.
James had spent his whole life worrying – about the future, about the past, about the merely possible.
He had closed himself off from anything that would offer him freedom or fulfillment.
But now, those coiled chains started to loosen imperceptibly.
Soon enough, the change would trickle down through him. He would take the reins of his life in his own hands, and forcefully direct them wherever his inmost desires willed it.
All that would happen soon... but not just now.
There would be a time for that later.
For the moment, the breakthrough was in learning to let go.
He continued to take in Brenda.
She was still in her white t-shirt, and completely naked underneath. As she clicked away at the computer with the mouse, she lifted one leg onto the chair, granting him a perfect view of the pussy that had taken from him his virginity.
He took in the sight of Brenda's carefully trim bush, and the delicateness of her labia – slightly brown, and darkened by the rush of blood.
He watched as his cum trickled out of her, and pooled onto the woode
n seat.
A little fire started in James McCullum's heart at that sight.
He started to get hard again.
He just sat there, and looked, for minutes, in a peculiar kind of bliss, until he was rock-solid once more.
With a sigh, Brenda pushed down the screen of her laptop, and looked over at her little lover... Though maybe he's not quite so little as that, she thought to herself with a rush of pleasure, when she saw the state he was in.
Smiling, she got back up, walked back over to him, and curled herself back into his lap, arms wrapped around his neck.
She played with his hair a bit, and nuzzled at his neck.
Then the nuzzles turned to kisses, turned to tender bites, as she moved up to his baby-smooth cheek, and onto the corner of his lips. He turned his head, then, and she welcomed his tongue into her mouth, where it stayed for many minutes, as she rubbed her ass against his battle-ready but patient cock.
She pushed his head downwards, and he licked and nibbled at her neck, drawing moans from her like water from a well. She felt herself starting to melt below, and she took in the sweetness of the freshness of his sweat, mingled with the lingering tones of cleanliness from his morning soap and shampoo.
With a whispered “James”, he paused, and she sat up, lifted the white t-shirt over her head, and undid the clasps of her bra. She took it off in stages – first slipping the straps over her arms, then letting one cup slip off, and then, tantalizingly slowly, the other.
Then she basked in the wonder of his gaze, before taking his hand in hers, kissing it, and laying it upon her breasts. He kneaded them, slowly and desiringly, but only after running his fingers over them for minutes, as if they were porcelain, and might break if he pressed too hard.
This brought from her little squeaks and exhaled breaths, because this tickled as much as turned her on, but she was gaining so much pleasure from his obvious own that she did not point this out.
Finally, she kissed him, passionately, dizzying.
Then she drew herself back, his saliva trickling down her chin. Looking into his eyes the whole time, she laid herself back along the sofa, her head propped up against the armrest.
Heartbeat picking up again, James maneuvered himself on top of her, letting her guide him as to where to put his arms and legs and mouth.
She worked a hand down, and grabbed his shaft, working her hand up and down it and gently around the head until he was perfect.
Then she kissed him on the chest, and guided him within her.
He slid in smoothly this time, and she moaned out his name when he bottomed out after the first few gentle thrusts.
She pulled him flat against her, and wrapped her legs around him. He lay there on her, for a minute, and kept himself from coming, until he calmed down, and she was ready.
He retreated out, waiting until she pulled him back in with her legs. He kept at her pace for a couple of minutes, taking in the sight of her closed eyes, imagining what it would like to be such a perfect creature as she was, wondering how she could possibly have let him into her.
The only sound in the living room was her heavy, husky breathing – steady, un-selfconscious, mesmerizing.
More minutes passed, and they turned to moans, and then shouts, and then whimpers.
The tension that had been gathering within her since she had first looked at him standing naked on her living room rug had built to the breaking, until it was so intolerable that she started to cry.
She could feel it coming, feeling it rushing to her – still at a distance, but with such force that it scared her. Part of her felt like she wanted to flee it, but as James slammed into her with ever increasing power, she knew there was no stopping it.
His penis rammed into her, his chest heaved against her, and her voice descended into incoherence, threatening to drown out the torrent of wet, sloshing noises that came from them each time he thrust and thrust and thrust...
“James... James... James... I'm... I'm... Oh, god, James, help, help me, I'm...”
Brenda screamed, unleashed by the most powerful orgasm she could remember, her hips bucking up from the sofa and against him, until she surely would have fallen off except for the fact that he was straining with all his might the other way.
She gushed against him, drenching the sofa, and he responded in kind, sending ropes of cum bursting into her deepest reaches, as her orgasm crested, and she was blinded by a white light.
////\\
They lay tangled there for minutes, not speaking, not thinking, barely breathing, the blood ringing in their ears, bathed in each other's sweat and lost in the frantic beating of each other's heart.
Several minutes passed, until James twisted himself to release his softening cock from her, and curled up slightly, until his head lay between her breasts.
He talked, then, about everything, and about nothing, as if he was getting to know himself for the first time, exploring thoughts he'd never known he had.
Brenda returned to herself enough to make out his words at some point after he started speaking, and lay there listening, and idly caressing his hair.
If he had looked up then, he would have seen her face steadily slip into the expression of worry and self-doubt which had appeared on it, for the briefest of flashes, the day before.
\\To be continued////
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His Dark Secret – A Stepbrother Romance Page 5
