by Lexy Harper
She stood up and shrugged out of the robe. And he was lost. Her erect nipples seemed to be begging for his lips, her trim waist small enough for him to span with his large hands. When she turned slowly around, it was no longer a question of if he would take her up on her offer, but how many times he would need to bury himself in her sweet perfect behind until he was completely sated.
“Come to me,” he commanded softly, switching off the bedside lamp as he reached for her.
What was done in darkness didn’t have to come to light.
He pulled her down on top of him and caressed the taut cheeks of her behind as he kissed her. Running his finger gently between the mounds, he found the tightly-closed pucker of her anus and rimmed her lightly with his fingertip. She might have had anal sex before, but not in recent months—her rectum was as petite as the rest of her. His seven-inch cock was an average endowment for a tall man, but it was thick and the head was slightly bulbous.
Slipping his hand downwards he ran his fingers over her pussy lips. The moisture spilling out of her was too much to resist and reaching his left hand between them, he sunk two fingers deep inside her. Then he moistened the long middle finger of his other hand and breached her tight anus. She gasped and bit down gently on his upper chest as he slowly but relentlessly buried the finger to the hilt.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked, kissing the top of her head and giving her one last chance to change her mind.
“Yes,” she moaned. “I want it as much as you do.”
“Tell me if it hurts too much.” He circled her anus with a second finger and worked it inside her with short, firm thrusts as he slipped a third finger into her eager-and-ready-to-accommodate pussy. He was almost torn between its slippery warmth and the tight resistance of her rectum. Almost, but he was now too consumed by the anticipated delight of sinking into the velvet darkness of her anus; her pussy would not satisfy the craving that had been building inside him from the moment she had first made the offer of her sweet behind.
But he was easily more than twice the size of the two fingers he had only just begun to work smoothly in and out of her. It would take an eternity—too long.
“I’m going to embarrass myself in a minute if I don’t...,” he warned. Slipping his fingers out of her pussy, he opened the fly of his pyjamas and slid into her clutching warmth. She gasped as he held her hips in place and buried himself deeply.
She really was the tightest little thing, he thought, as he brought his hands up to cup her breasts and caress her nipples. The hard points grazed his palms and he immediately pulled her upwards to suck on one of the tempting morsels. In the darkness and in his haste to prepare her to receive his full length in her rectum, he had forgotten the dusky pink points that had driven him out of his mind earlier.
Her inner muscles clenched in time with the pull of his lips on her nipple and he pulled even harder. Immediately she grasped his head, riding him furiously, pressing down and taking every inch of him when only minutes before she had locked her knees against his sides to prevent him going too deeply after his first full thrust. Gritting his teeth he held back his orgasm as her inner muscles squeezed and tried to milk him.
In the meanwhile, as he had distracted her with his raw, insistent nipple sucking he had deftly worked another finger into her anus. As he felt her start to orgasm, he lifted her upwards and housed himself quickly, deeply inside her anus. He felt the shock go through her as the pain of his sudden penetration mingled with the pleasure of the orgasm she had been too far gone to stop. She bucked against him, rubbing her clitoris furiously against his pelvis as her now-empty pussy clenched around nothing but air, and in turn she pressed her rectum further onto him. He couldn’t hold back any longer, her small tight back passage nipped him in the most delicious way. He shouted aloud as he came harder than he’d ever remembered coming.
He woke from a light doze ten minutes later, still joined to her. She was tired and needed sleep, but his cock disobeyed his command to lie quietly inside her and let her rest for a while longer.
She woke as he surged to full arousal inside her.
“Are you sore?” he asked, touching her face in the darkness.
“Just a little. Not too much.”
“Good, because we have been patiently waiting for you to wake up.”
Laying her top half gently on the bed, he manoeuvred them both carefully until he was kneeling behind and still buried inside her. Holding his hips still, he reached under her and rolled her sensitive nipples firmly. She immediately began to back herself onto him, the movement of her hips in perfect tempo to the rhythm of his fingers. Her pleasure-pain moans filled the room and he leaned forward and kissed the back of her neck. She would be a little sore the next day but he loved her willingness to endure the pain to please him.
She was only little—over a foot shorter than he and wasn’t really built to accommodate someone of his size, but...he pressed her nipples more firmly between his fingers and thumbs and enjoyed her immediate frenzied response—grinding herself against him and taking all but his balls inside her. She had the most incredibly responsive nipples he’d discovered the first time they had made love. All he needed to do was handle them firmly—biting, sucking or tweaking them almost to the point of pain worked best.
“Oh, honey,” she moaned as he increased his pace. “Give it to me. Give it to me!”
“Yes, sweetheart, take it all. Take it all for me,” he groaned and collapsed forward onto her, joining her in another uncontrollable orgasm.
***
John woke with a start as he felt fingers run through his hair. She lay on the bed looking at him, her lips curved into a naughty smile. “Do you think we have time for a quickie before your mother brings Tim and Tina home?”
“Mum’s always complaining that she doesn’t see enough of her grandkids. I’d say we have time for more than a quickie.”
“Provided you don’t want a repeat of last night. I’ll be sore for a month.”
“Poor, baby. Shall I kiss it better for you?” he asked as he brought her left hand up to his lips and kissed her engagement and wedding rings softly. “Thank you for my special treat.”
“I’m beginning to think that I should dye my hair red. You were really keen last night.”
“A once-a-year fantasy is great, but I much prefer the real thing.” He pulled off the wig and ruffled Helen’s short blonde hair. “The girl next door who at five did a cartwheel to show her best friend that she could do anything he did, but forgot she wasn’t wearing panties.” They both smiled at the memory. “The bright young woman who went off to Oxford while I went off to Iraq. The same young woman I told to forget about me and get on with her life, but who not only waited for me, but was a virgin on our wedding night. The woman who didn’t throw a tantrum today when all our carefully-laid plans were disrupted by a sick employee. Instead she spent our special day driving around with a husband who was driving a bus, just to be close to him. The successful woman who is not ashamed of being married to a simple man who enjoys the simple pleasures in life.”
“Honey, I love you and wouldn’t change a single thing about you. You’re my rock in a world that’s constantly changing.” She smiled and kissed him softly. “Happy anniversary, baby.”
“Happy anniversary too, sweetheart,” he responded, lowering his head to capture her erect, pouting left nipple and worry it gently with his teeth.
*****
Isn’t a Sister’s Love the Best?
Standing back as his wife Helen pulled away from the kerb, John Elliot blew his six-year-olds a kiss. Tim, the little scamp, pulled a funny face—he already thought that he was too old for kisses. But, Tina, his little sweetheart, blew him kisses until the car disappeared from sight.
He would miss the two mischief makers, John acknowledged, as he walked slowly back up to the house.
But it was only for two days and one night.
And what a night it would be!
H
e and Helen were celebrating their seventh wedding anniversary and so far each celebration had been better than the one before. He still got instantly hard when he thought of Helen’s little surprise the previous year—dressing as a tramp, allowing him to rescue her and then in her gratitude offering her sweet little behind for him to plunder after he had generously offered her a bath, some food and a bed for the night.
He hoped he could resist having anal sex with her tonight even if she offered. He had grown up with strict, church-going parents and anal sex though it had felt good the few times he and Helen had engaged in the act, afterwards he had felt terribly guilty, especially because it had left poor Helen sore for a day or two.
No, tonight he would be strong and refuse even if she begged him to—
The doorbell interrupted his thoughts. Who could it be? Helen couldn’t have made the return trip to his parents’ home already, surely?
Unless there had been an acci—
He stumbled to the door, his heart in his hands—everything he held dear was in that car. He couldn’t survive if anything happened to Helen...or his children...
The doorbell went again, impatiently, as he stood with his hand on the knob, afraid to open the door and face his fear.
“John, are you in there? Open up, it’s me, Susan!”
Weak with relief, he turned the knob quickly and found his sister smiling back at him.
Susan smiling? She must have won the lottery or something. She never smiled.
“Hey, little brother, aren’t you going to let me in?”
“Sure, come in.” He hoped she didn’t intend to stay too long. Once she got talking she could bore for England. She had probably come to see the twins; perhaps if he let her know that he was home alone she would soon be on her way. “You just missed Helen and the kids.”
“I know,” she said, slipping her sensible black pumps off. “Mum told me that Helen was bringing the kids to spend the night with her and Dad, so I rushed over as fast as I could to catch you alone.”
“You wanted to see me?”
“Yes. I needed to see you.”
“Are you in some kind of trouble?” It would be a first, but when the good go bad, they go rotten.
“Of course I’m not in trouble!” Susan denied, giving him that exasperated wise-older-sister-to-silly-younger-brother look. “I just missed you.”
“Missed me?” Growing up with Susan had been like growing up as an only child. She was bookish and serious. It had seemed that the only time she had spoken to John was to tell him off for being naughty.
“I miss having you around, little brother.” She came closer and John backed away in surprise—her breasts had almost touched him.
“Susan, have you been drinking?” She looked sober, but she was acting quite strangely and wearing...lipstick? Something was definitely wrong with her. But he didn’t have the time to find out what it was. Not tonight of all nights. He reached for the telephone. “Let me call Mum. You’re clearly not yourself.”
Before he could press the speed dial button, she reached out and took the cordless phone out of his hand.
“Do you want something to drink?” She was rather partial to a glass or two of white wine. He would use the phone in the kitchen when he went to get her the drink.
“I don’t want anything to drink. I don’t want anything to eat. I just want to be with you.” She slipped her arms around his waist and hugged him. “Since you married Helen you and I never spend time alone together.”
“We never did before I got married,” he reminded her.
“Yes, but at least you were there if I needed you.”
“I’m still here if you need me.”
“Good, because I need you now.” She pushed him backwards onto the settee and caught off balance, he fell heavily. She immediately straddled him, her long skirt hitching up to show legs encased in opaque black tights. Moving in closer, she rubbed her crutch against his groin. “I need you desperately.”
“Susan?” he questioned in alarm. One of them had to be dreaming—he hoped he was! And prayed that he would wake soon from the horrible nightmare. “Helen will be back at any minute.”
“No, she won’t. Mum will keep her talking for at least an hour. And then Dad will insist on showing her his new roses and telling her all the plans he has for his garden next year.”
“Even so...” John ground to a halt. It didn’t matter whether Helen was home or not! His sister was sitting on his lap rubbing herself against him—the kind of behaviour that had to be illegal in every country in the world! “She would misunderstand if she walked in and found you sitting on me.”
Maybe if he played dumb, Susan would desist.
“Okay. Go lock the door.” She moved off him and sprawled across the large settee.
He walked to the door, debating whether he should stay or make a break for it.
“Lock the door and come back here to me, John,” Susan commanded in her older-sister voice.
He complied as he had always done when she had given him an instruction. She had never struck him or been cruel to him, yet he had always secretly feared her wrath much more than his parents’.
And against his will he was as stiff as a poker.
But the part of his brain that was still functioning argued, “Helen will wonder why it’s locked.”
“I’ll tell her I locked it accidentally because I’m used to locking my front door as soon as I get home from work. Now come closer.”
Susan knelt up in the chair and grabbed him as soon as he was close enough. She angled her head for his kiss, a strangely awkward movement that made him wonder if she had ever been kissed before.
If she had, it must have been by the world’s worst kisser. She couldn’t kiss.
She learned quickly though and soon they were exchanging long, breathless kisses.
John pulled his lips away from hers when he felt her tugging at his shirt, trying to pull it free from his Levis.
“No.” He put his hand over hers. “Susan, we can’t get undressed. It would take us too long to put our clothes back on if Helen suddenly came home.”
“We don’t have to get undressed.” She leaned back against the settee and opened her legs wide. “All you have to do is slip yourself through here.” She felt for the seam of the tights, pushed her fingers through and quickly ripped a hole in the crotch of the soft material. John looked away instinctively as he got a flash of pubic hair.
“Oh God!” He turned away from her. “Susan, we can’t do this.”
“John, I want you.” She got off the settee and slipped her arms around his waist from behind. “I want to feel you inside me.”
“Susan, I can’t. I can’t,” he repeated, more for his benefit than hers. He could, of course—the stiff wood in his boxers was a testament to the fact.
“John, I’m going out of my mind. I’ve been saving and saving myself for marriage, but no one wants to marry me!” Hearing the unshed tears in her voice he turned and hugged her hard against his chest. “If you don’t want me, I’ll walk up to the next stranger I meet in the street and tell him that I want to give him my virginity.”
Oh God, she was a virgin! She’d never had a boyfriend, or at least one that she had been seen with or introduced to the family, but John had thought that surely a classmate at school, or a member of the church or even the randy-looking pastor...one of them must had by now deflowered his not-bad-looking sister.
Would she honestly give herself to a stranger? She seemed desperate enough to do it.
He had to make a terrible choice.
But what alternative did he have?
And what was worse: a brother who loved her and would try not to cause her too much pain; or some random stranger who could give her a deathly disease if she was lucky or rape and kill her if she was not. They may not have been the closest of siblings, but he loved her and had always known despite her prickly, introverted ways, she loved him just as much.
“Alright, alr
ight” he agreed and pushed her gently back down onto the settee. He hesitated for a moment, knowing that it was his last chance to get himself out of the sticky situation, before he lay down beside her.
Their faces were close, almost touching as they stared into each other’s eyes.
He couldn’t remember being this close to her before. He didn’t remember her skin looking so dewy soft and it must be a trick of the light—her eyes were the greenest he had ever seen, as green as a meadow in spring.
He wanted her desperately, he realized with a start, as a surge of blood flowed to his groin and pushed his already-hard penis against the unyielding fabric of his jeans.
“Take your breast out for me,” he instructed as he pulled her outer leg up to straddle his hip and reached into the ruined gusset of her tights.
“I never understand why men want to suck on women’s breast. Surely they were only made for babies to suck on,” she complained, but slipped her hand into her white cotton bra and bared her left breast.
He stared at it for a moment. Growing up together as children he had seen her chest often. How had that small, flat expanse with its tiny nipple which had looked almost exactly like his, become this tempting, quivering mound of flesh that he had to taste or die? Leaning forward eagerly he took her nipple and her entire areola into his mouth.
“Gosh, that feels really nice.” Even shocked by the sensation of his tugging lips, she didn’t utter a profanity. She raised herself up slightly so that she could get a better view of his suckling lips on her breast. Mesmerized by the sight, she didn’t even take her eyes off as he parted her pubic hair and found the stiff little bud of her clitoris. “It’s making me feel all shivery inside.”
And your inside nice and wet, John thought, as he slipped the finger he had been rubbing against her clitoris up into the slipperiness.
