Brett began to concentrate his licking on my clit, increasing the rate at which my pleasure was building. I knew that a huge orgasm wasn’t far away and began to flex my abdominal muscles each time I breathed out. I don’t know why, but when I’d masturbated in the past, this always helped to tip me over the edge.
I was so close to cumming when I felt Brett insert a finger past my pussy lips and into my vagina. The thought of having somebody else’s finger inside me was the final straw and I yelled my ecstasy into the cabin of the car, where it seemed impossibly loud due to the small space. I writhed around, bumping my head on the side of the car and the seat but not caring. I’m sure I made the whole car rock with my bucking hips and thrashing movements, but I was powerless to stop myself.
I’d never even dared dream of pleasure so all-encompassing, it was beyond the previous powers of my imagination. When the pleasure finally began to fade, I was almost unsure of where I was anymore. All that was left was a warm glow in my belly as I stared up into the darkness and panted.
Brett raised himself back over me with a double popping sound coming from his knees after kneeling for so long. He kissed me passionately and he tasted different than before, I finally worked out that it was my own juices causing that difference. His mouth and chin were covered in my honey, I held his head and licked at his face, curious about my flavour. I’d never thought to put my fingers to my mouth after masturbating, but I vowed to make a habit of it from then on. I tasted good if I do say so myself.
I felt the pressure of his erection back at the entrance to my virgin slit, but this time there were no panties to protect me and our bare genitals slid gently across each other with every move we made. At some stage, during my orgasm perhaps, Brett had pulled his pants down and out of the way. I was scared but I had been waiting a long time for this. I was ready.
“Take it. It’s yours.” I said.
Brett reached down with one hand and steadied his cock, holding it firmly as he pushed it against me. My unused slit resisted at first but my lips were, almost reluctantly it seemed, pushed to each side as our combined natural lubricants allowed him to slide past. I felt the ridge of his cock head, memorised from the blowjob I had given earlier, enter my tunnel and my outer lips closed elastically on the slightly narrower shaft.
Just a little bit more pushing and Bret’s cock was resting against my intact hymen. He paused, prolonging the evidence of my virginity for just a few more torturous seconds, then kissed me and pushed forward at the same time. With a sensation I would later describe as being similar to feeling a condom rip, with added sting, my hymen was penetrated and I felt the welcome invasion of his hard member thrusting aside the tight walls of my pussy, fitting snugly into me.
His big cock was touching where nothing had ever touched before and it was painful. I clenched my teeth and whimpered, again nothing like the sexy moans I’d practiced earlier that day. When Brett was all the way inside of me he paused, letting me get used to him, letting the burning sensation die away. It was a very different kind of pain, unlike anything I’d experienced before that night. It was more like the pain of when he had first pinched my nipple, or the prickly sensation of his stubble. Under it all was the promise of great pleasure, and once my body was more accustomed to his girth, it signalled that it had heard that promise and wanted delivery.
Without my thinking, I began to rock my own hips back and forth almost imperceptibly, causing his cock to move within me ever so slightly. Brett pulled back until I felt that now familiar bumpy ridge at the very opening of my pussy, paused, and then pushed forward, quicker this time. I was so wet due to his amazing tongue that his cock was completely slick with my juices. I was amazed at the difference in feeling between that first stroke and the second. The pain had already dulled, and the pleasure was beginning to take over.
Brett bottomed out again, pulled backwards immediately and then began thrusting into me at a slow, rhythmic pace. Our bodies met over and over again, with a sound like very quiet clapping. The realisation washed over me that it was finally happening, I was being fucked. I clasped my hands behind his head and pulled him into a kiss as he continued pumping at my newly deflowered pussy.
I felt an increase in the speed and power of Brett’s thrusts, accompanied by the louder sounds of our bodies coming together with each stroke. A bead of sweat dripped down my brow and I broke off our kiss to nuzzle my forehead against his neck, looking down between our bodies in an effort to see as much as I could in the darkness. I could vaguely make out my milky white thighs, with his darker toned body rhythmically obscuring them in time with the slapping sounds of our bodies over the wetter sounds of him plunging into my depths.
The burning sensation in my pussy returned, but it was different to his first few strokes, it was a fire of pleasure that was being stoked within me and I felt it grow with each thrust of Brett’s hips. He maintained his strong and fast pace, pushing me closer to my orgasm.
I was so happy to be there with him I was almost overcome with emotion, I’d waited so long and it was even better than I expected. As I felt myself get nearer and nearer the edge I whispered into his ear.
“You’re fucking me, Daddy.”
“Say it again, Angel.” He panted.
“You’re fucking me, Daddy.” I said at full volume.
“Louder.”
“You’re fucking me, Daddy!” I yelled and felt myself slip over the edge of pleasure, freefalling into my orgasm. I thrashed my head from side to side, dimly aware of hitting both the side of the car and the seat again and also a seatbelt clip digging into my back. All these sensations were almost completely whitewashed by the sheer bliss of my first cock-powered orgasm. Throughout the pleasure I was impaled time and again on his hard dick, each time was like a tiny explosion of wonderful sensations as his body put pressure on my clit.
My ecstasy was just beginning to fade when Brett groaned and for the first time his thrusts became more sporadic. With a powerful push, driving my head against the side of the car, he buried himself in me as far as he could possibly go and I felt the sticky spurt of his semen hitting the depths of my vagina. I’d been prepared for this day, so I was on the pill and I wasn’t worried, I just rode my orgasm out as he used me for his own pleasure, filling me with his seed. With one last groan, Brett collapsed on top of me and I wrapped my arms around him as we both tried to catch our breath.
After a while I reached up with one hand to touch the window. It was completely steamed up. Perfect, just like my fantasy.
Without warning there was a sharp tapping on the window and somebody with a flashlight was outside the driver’s door. We frantically scrambled around for our clothes, rocking the car almost as much as when we were fucking, and finally we were back in the front seats. Brett wound down the window and was met with the sight of an impatient looking policeman shining his flashlight at us.
The cop’s expression turned from impatience to confusion as he looked back and forth between Brett and myself, then with a shake of his head that said ‘Now I’ve seen everything’ he began a short monologue.
“Got an emergency call from a nice old lady this evening. She said there was a suspicious car parked outside of her house, probably ‘casing the joint’ to use her words. We said we’d take a look, there had been some burglaries in the area in recent weeks after all. I must say, you two look like you’ve got everything you need already. Why don’t you take it home and stop bothering this nice neighbourhood?”
“Yes sir, officer, thank you.” Brett said politely.
“You OK, Miss?” the officer said, shining his light at me.
“Yes officer!” I said, sounding like an enthusiastic cheerleader. I couldn’t help it, I was so happy. Getting caught by the police was just the naughty cherry on my perfect sundae. The light slowly worked its way down my body, I half hoped there was no mess evident between my legs… and half hoped there was.
The policeman stepped back and surveyed Brett’s car with his fl
ashlight.
“Very nice. I’ve been wanting to pick up one of these for myself for a while.”
“Yeah, it’s a 1967…” Brett was cut off.
“The car’s pretty sweet too. Have a good night.”
He walked back to his patrol car, how we could have missed the red and blue flashing lights I’ll never know, but we did. Brett and I looked at each other and cracked up laughing.
“Drive me home, Daddy.” I said and settled in for the short journey.
###
Navigation
Back to the Categorized Table of Contents
Back to the Chronological Table of Contents
###
Connect with me online for More FREE Stories!
Thank you for purchasing this ebook, I hope you enjoyed it. Please take the time to leave honest feedback in the form of a review, I very much care what my readers think and take it into consideration when planning new stories. If you’d like to drop by my website you can find me at www.scarlettskyes.com and sign up for my newsletter for a free and instant download of my exclusive-to-subscribers stories.
###
I also run www.shamelessbookdeals.com and you can sign up there for over 20 more free stories and regular notifications of the best erotica at the best prices!
Twins Run in the Family 1
Description
Ellie's Mother's new marriage has resulted in a full house, but Ellie is happy to have her best friends and fellow long-distance runners living under the same roof. However, after a training run when a relaxing massage turns into something more, which twin is which?
Kinks/Sub-Genres
Pseudo-Incest, Twins, Stepbrother, Stepsister, Cumshot, Deepthroat
Navigation
Back to the Categorized Table of Contents
Back to the Chronological Table of Contents
*****
Divorce can be a difficult thing for the kids trapped in the middle, but I didn’t think it was so bad. It was obvious, even though they tried to shelter me as best they could, that my parents didn’t love each other anymore. I was glad when they separated, it meant I didn’t have to listen to their arguments keeping me awake at night. I kept a good relationship with my Dad, even though I stayed living with my Mom, and when they didn’t have to see each other every day they at least managed to be civil with each other.
Things went from good to great when my Mom started dating Cinton Borderman from down the street. She was overjoyed, and I was happy for her, when he eventually proposed to her shortly after my eighteenth birthday, a few years after my parents divorced.
We’d known the Bordermans for a long time, as long as I could remember anyway. They lived on the same street as us, and we went to the funeral when Mrs. Borderman had died. I was around eight at the time, I think. She left behind an almost inconsolable husband and twin boys, Jarrod and Brendan, who were in my class. I remember making a card and giving it to them after the service and I remember their sad little faces as they politely took it and thanked me. My god it was an ugly card, I was far from an artist back then. I probably couldn’t do any better now of course, but it really is the thought that counts.
That day was the first time the twins and I were the slightest bit courteous to each other, until then we’d barely spoken except to call each other names at school. We had kept the segregation of genders nearly intact except for minor ventures into each other’s territories for the purposes of being asshole kids. It was exactly what you’d expect from people of that age, nothing special.
However, my peace offering in their darkest hour was gratefully and enthusiastically accepted and we became quick friends. Of everybody in my class, they lived the closest, so we spent a lot of time together. When we went to high school we discovered a mutual passion for long distance running and trained together all the time.
We destroyed everybody in our school who dared to race against us, and we did similarly well at state and national levels, at the competitions we could get to anyway. We talked about representing our country when we were finished high school, and we just might do it yet.
That’s why I was more than happy when they moved in with us. It was an easy decision in the end, our house was bigger and the Bordermans were kind of apprehensive about my Mom and I treading over the memories of Mrs. Borderman, so it was kind of therapeutic for them to make a fresh start in a new house.
After they were all settled in, my Mom and Clinton took a belated honeymoon, leaving the twins and I behind with strict instructions to host no parties and to not break anything. We had no intention of doing either, getting wasted at parties set our training schedules behind for days, depending on how difficult the hangover recovery was, and we wanted to be in the best shape of our lives when we went to college the next academic year.
One day we returned home shortly after dark from a long training run and there was our usual bottleneck of one shower but three sweaty runners that wanted to wash up before getting some food and settling down in front of a good movie. We settled it in our usual manner, an epic paper/rock/scissors battle, as many rounds as it took to decide the victor and the losers. In this case, I was the victor and I left them to hammer out the details of who went second and third, closing the door on them as I carried my towel and clothes into the bathroom.
The hot water pounding down on my athletic body was unbelievably refreshing. I managed to wash away most of the hardships of the training, leaving behind the satisfaction of a good workout. I was just about to turn the shower off when an impatient knocking sounded out on the door.
“You going to use all the hot water again, Ellie?” It was impossible to know which of the twins it was calling out to me over the sound of the shower and through the door, but it didn’t matter really. I moved my hand away from the taps. To the victor go the spoils, after all.
“Almost done!” I called back and smiled. I wouldn’t keep them waiting too long, or it would get too late to watch our movie. I savoured the last minute or so of my shower before stepping out on to the bath mat and drying myself. I quickly slipped into some tracksuit pants and a t-shirt, no sense in dressing up for a night in. I didn’t bother putting on a bra, I’m petite and a few hours of sitting on a couch wasn’t likely to put much strain on my perky teen chest.
I opened the door and the twins were both there with their towels and clothes.
“Sorry guys!” I said with an innocent smile as I squeezed between their muscular, and still sweaty, bodies. While I had been in the shower they had apparently abandoned all formalities and were now going to fight it out between them who would have the next shower with a round of ‘whoever-can-get-in-the-bathroom-and-lock-the-other-one-out’. Boys… do they ever properly grow up?
I hung up my towel in my room to dry and threw my running clothes in my laundry basket before heading downstairs, circling around the skirmish that was now being pitched on the ground outside the bathroom. They were as evenly matched as you would expect, being twins, so there was no telling how long they could take. To speed things up I called back over my shoulder as I descended to the ground floor.
“Whoever has the last shower gets a massage from me!”
Silence ensued from upstairs for a few moments while I went to the kitchen. I put our giant home-made pizza into the oven, toppings divided into three to suit our different tastes and I heard the shower turn on. Massage is a wonderful motivator for peace. Maybe armies should be trained in massage instead of combat I thought.
The idea of a bunch of blonde Swedish hunks running across a battlefield with a towel and bottle of oil yelling ‘Yoohoo! I see you! Relax!’ into enemy fire tickled me for some reason and I let out a snort of laughter. It did remind me that I’d need to get the massage oil to pay out on my end of the peace treaty though. I retrieved it, some towels, and went to the living room, relaxing on the couch with a trashy magazine while I waited.
I heard footsteps coming down the stairs and looked up to see Brendan step into the living
room, still wearing just his towel. These boys had grown up in an all-male household for the past ten years, and I guess they didn’t realise the effect the sight of half-naked men had on an impressionable young woman like me.
The twins were absolutely gorgeous, it had to be said. They had really filled out lately, shoulders broadening and muscles gaining mass and definition. They were actually getting bigger than they really wanted to be. When you’re running for a long time, you don’t want to be carrying any more weight than you absolutely have to. What could they do though? They were inheriting their father’s body shape, which wasn’t the worst thing in the world to look forward to.
“You get that pizza in?” Brendan asked.
“Of course, you didn’t think I would forget, did you?” I replied. Pizza is my weakness, I love it, and he knew it.
“You never can tell these days, you’ve been a bit distracted by that boyfriend of yours lately!”
“Hmmmph. Well, you won’t have to worry about that anymore… he dumped me yesterday.” I said, looking back down at my magazine, sad to be reminded of the nasty break-up.
“Oh shit, I’m sorry Ellie. What happened? Why didn’t you say anything?” he asked with a concerned tone in his voice and stood next to me, placing a strong hand on my shoulder.
“He said he’d found somebody else, as well as the old it’s-not-you-it’s-me routine. He wouldn’t really go into details. I just didn’t want to talk about it… I’ve never been dumped before. It sucks ass. Anyway, I still don’t want to talk about it. Forget him. So, you decided you’ve had enough massages in your life and just wanted a shower?”
Take All of It September 2019 Page 33