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Three days with Mandy being gone, or perhaps more painfully, three nights with my little sister missing from the house, did indeed seem long. An eternity of wondering what might happen next between us – and of just wanting her. Her smile, her long slender legs, the touch of her fingers. Man, I would have welcomed the worst teasing ever from her, just to have the sound of her voice.
But she had been right, I was busy.
For a start, there was the fence in the backyard. If I was going to have time on my hands, I was at least gonna get that right for Mom. I ended up pulling up every post, unsatisfied as to how they had been placed. I got the technique of digging and re-pounding them down to a science, so by the third day was feeling both efficient and pretty pleased in surveying the resulting solid straight line.
And as Mandy had reminded me, I did indeed have my date with Alison, walking around River Park. After some reflection, I ended up texting her and rescheduling it for a little later in the day, and was glad I had. It was cooler and more pleasant to walk in the evening. And I ended up having a really nice time, even though I know that word ‘nice’ often means the death knell for dating. Somehow the pressure was off. Sure we made out in the car before I drove her home, but we also walked and talked a lot. I let myself admit that she probably wasn’t the right long-term fit for me, not someone who I would want to grow up and then grow old with. And that no longer seemed to matter so much. She was smart and respectful and I enjoyed her company, and felt good about who I was when I was with her. We agreed to see each other in about a week, planning a bike ride.
But it wasn’t Alison I was thinking of at night.
My sister texted me a few times. I’m guessing she didn’t have a lot of solo time, and infact was probably run ragged by trying to catch up with learning and playing pieces for which she had minimal practice time. I realized how good she must have become, that they trusted her in being able to pinch hit for the team in this way. But she did manage to find some moments to connect.
Hey Bro. Thinking of you. It’s really awesome here. Well, actually the food sucks and it’s hard to sleep at night. But it’s all music all the time. Miss you. M.
They have a running track. Outside the practice room. Thinking of you. Gotta go.
J. The others have gone to sleep. I wish I was with you. I wish I was in your bed. M
This last one stabbed me right through with desire. I must have read it a dozen times. Finally I texted back Always yours, M. Always. J
I lay in bed a lot that night and thought about the promise I had forced her to make. Or rather, she had twisted it around into that. I had tried to lay down a boundary, a line we shouldn’t cross. And she had turned it around into promising that she wouldn’t be the one to ask me to go there – to go all the way to actual intercourse with her. I knew that Mandy could seem playful, even silly at times. But I also knew that when she really made a promise she meant it.
Which left me with a kind of buyer’s remorse. I tried to convince myself that I was glad she did. To be honest, I no longer knew what I would say in response if she did ask. Or rather, what I would do in response. Rather than softening with each passing night, my fantasies of my little sister were getting more and more intense. They started with memories, and then went further. Way further. They pressed right up against that boundary, almost to breaking point.
I found no way to get relief. To my dismay, I raided the laundry basket on the second evening and found it empty of my sister’s underwear. Apparently, she had already been away too long. I dug all the way to the bottom, palms sweaty with shame and desire, before coming back up to the surface. Laying there were a pair of Mom’s lacy panties, cobalt blue, a size larger than Sis’s. I couldn’t stop myself. I picked them up and fingered them. I groaned. They weren’t just used. The fabric at her crotch was still wet – tangibly wet. How could they be this fresh? Compulsively, I lifted Mom’s panties to my nose and sniffed in the intoxicating moistness of her cunt. More pungent and somehow earthy than my sister’s. It felt both wrong and slutty, but I was instantly rigid with need. I stroked myself off in Mom’s panties right there in the bathroom, compulsive with desire, and then guiltily hid them back in the hamper. But somehow the act did nothing to ease my ache.
The next morning Mom checked in with me at breakfast. It was just us because Dad was gone on a sales conference for several days. She seemed concerned about me – maybe because I was putting in so much time on fixing her fence.
“No, I’m fine Mom, thanks. Actually the fence is kind of good – takes my mind off things.”
She looked at me quizzically but I was glad when she didn’t ask me to elaborate. Instead she changed the subject.
“Mandy said you got her a nice gift at the mall. That was sweet.”
I czech gangbang porno mumbled something in response, wondering what on earth Mom would think if she knew the intimate nature of the gift I had bought for her daughter.
“Anyway, I’d better get on that yard chore before it gets any hotter.”
Mom came around the side of the counter to give me a kiss on the cheek as I was taking my bowl over to the sink.
“John, do you have any idea how much we appreciate you?”
I didn’t answer. I was too distracted by the scent of her body in the open-fronted satin nightie that she was wearing, loosely tied with a bow that hung down on one side of her hips. As she reached up to touch her lips to my cheek, Mom’s full breasts were swelling through the slick material against me. I was overwhelmingly aware that underneath the familiar scent of Mom was also a pungent and earthy aroma that I could no longer separate in my mind from the how the loose folds of her nightie opened to reveal a spread of cream-colored thighs.
Two hours later I was finished. Sweaty and stained, I surveyed the result before cleaning up the ground and tools. I was pretty darn pleased. Well, if I didn’t make it as a college educated Engineer, I thought ruefully, maybe self-employed construction worker wasn’t so bad. Probably make decent money.
I headed inside to shower. Maybe afterwards I’ll surprise Mom, I thought, having not told her in advance that I was likely to finish today since I wanted to be sure I was satisfied with the job. I opened the door quietly, thinking to slip upstairs and change before announcing her new fence.
I heard Mom’s voice from the kitchen. I guessed she was on the phone. I should have just walked in and announced myself but for some reason I hovered there, ears perked up. I knew it was impolite to be so nosey, but there was a lot I was beginning to wonder about.
“Uh huh. Yeah. Well, I didn’t exactly say I’m having second thoughts…”
“No, you’re right. I’m not worried about her.”
Mom giggled, sounding almost like Mandy. “Actually, Sasha, I think I’m the one who feels like a teenager! Maybe that’s what worries me…hang on. I think there may be someone at the front door. Just a sec.”
I slunk upstairs, none the wiser for the fragments of conversation. I knew there was a lot to reflect on, but mostly I was thinking about what to wear to pick up Mandy from convention center. I was beginning to realize that t-shirt and jeans isn’t always what a girl wants someone to show up wearing. I was about to go back downstairs and make sure that I could borrow the car from Mom when I got a text on my phone from the Rec Center manager.
Hi John. Carl here. We need you in at 6pm for the kid’s camp. Short staffed. Confirm asap.
Damn, I said under my breath. But it couldn’t be helped – last minute requests was part of the expectations of the summer job. After a few moments of trying and failing to think of a way out of it, I texted back a confirmation, and then switched the message tag to my sister.
Sorry sis. Not going to be able to pick you up. Work.
Hi John! So good to hear from you. On the bus now. Don’t worry. Mom already called me to talk. She has a plan. Trust me, okay? Miss you so much – M.
Downstairs, Mom didn’t have much to add. “Yes, I’ll get Mandy, don’t worry. And by the way, your Dad’s not going to be home. Got a call on my voice mail. He says he needs to stay on another night after the conference.”
I’m guessing she had an idea what that might really be about, though neither of us said anything.
The Rec Center was crazy busy with the kids camp sleepover. I was glad of the intensity, running a basketball game for the younger boys most of the evening. It did a fair job of keeping my mind occupied from other thoughts. When the manager finally let me go after clean up, it was late, but still I showered in the empty men’s locker room and changed into a clean button down shirt and jeans.
Disappointingly, though, when I got home Mom’s car was in the driveway and there was a light on in the kitchen, but otherwise the house was quiet. The bus must have run late from music camp and they were still doing pick up from downtown. I had heard something on the radio about a traffic snarl from a baseball game. I guessed that she must have carpooled with one of the other parents. My heart sank a bit. Despite my attempts at distraction, I was aching to see Mandy again.
Mom had left a note for me on the kitchen counter.
John – hey sweetheart. I so appreciate you fixing the fence for me. You did an awesome job for your mother. Thank you. You are a wonderful son. There is one chore you haven’t finished for me, though. Can you step into my bedroom and take care of it? Love you – Mom.
Standing there in the neon of the kitchen and the quiet of the empty house, I was perplexed. Of course my guilty mind went czech harem porno immediately to the last time I had been in her and Dad’s room – the only time recently – when I had rifled through her clothes and books. But I couldn’t see that it could be anything to do with that. I hadn’t noticed anything broken in the fixtures or anything, but maybe I had forgotten in the last few days some request she had made of me. It was true, I thought heavily. I had been preoccupied with thoughts of my sister’s absence.
I made my way upstairs and along the darkened corridor. For some reason, I didn’t want to put on the lights. My mood was such that I didn’t want to break the quiet of the house, or the introspection of my thoughts. Mom’s door was cracked open, and as I gently pushed it wider, I saw that I didn’t need to put on the overhead light to her room either. To my surprise, she had left the house with a set of candles burning softly on the dressers and cabinets. Maybe a half-dozen splashed around the room, in dishes or low bowls, something to keep the wax safe from dripping on to the surfaces if they were left unattended.
I had stepped through the doorway and that was all that I noticed immediately.
And then my eyes were drawn to the bed.
Mom and Dad’s bed. The king-size bed with the wooden head-board and the sturdy posts at each corner. The purple duvet was pulled down to it’s foot, revealing the creamy satin sheet.
And my little sister, arms spread above her head, each hand leading toward one of the posts.
My heart stopped beating. My legs felt like jelly. Even in the soft light, our eyes locked onto each other.
I managed to step further into the room, and could see that she was naked. No…almost naked. Her narrow chest, her waist, her thighs, all glistened in the candlelight. But covering her crotch…was the dark purple of the expensive panties I had bought for her as a gift.
“John! It’s okay. It’s just me…”
I took another step and realized that her arms were not simply overhead. They looked tied. My sister’s wrists were stretched out to long straps drawn toward the posts of the bed. Confused, I guessed that, since she was alone in the house, she must be gripping them with her palms rather than actually tied. But the effect was electric. Glancing down, I saw that her legs were free, although similar straps led from the bottom posts in the direction of her ankles. Even in this incomplete stage, the implication of her spread-eagled, forced open and vulnerable, seared through my body.
“Oh, oh, god, Mandy.”
“John! It’s okay!”
My mind couldn’t process what I was seeing. But my body sure could. I felt my cock rise like a pole inside my jeans, forcing its presence to be acknowledged against the heavy cloth. Something more than desire rose up with my erection. I had been aroused now for days. Incredibly turned on by my sister, and even in her absence by the feminine presence of my mother in the house. By the memories, the teasing, the fantasies, the wondering about what the hell was going on.
I walked to the side of the bed and, reaching out, touched a hand to the my sister’s thigh. She quivered, her lips trembling, her eyes on mine.
“Sis, you made me a promise.”
“I…I did. John? I did…and I kept my promise. Didn’t I?” Her voice was shaking.
“Barely,” I said through gritted teeth.
“Oh, John. Please. Don’t be mad with me?”
Mandy twisted, as if with regret, as if trying to change her mind in some way, and with a shock I realized that her wrists were infact tied by the binds. She pulled at them briefly before lying still again. My groin clenched. Her torso – the small tits with their sensitive nipples – was exposed to my gaze. But she was no longer facing up by simple choice. She had somehow bound herself in this position. To what end?
I ran my fingers up the inside of her thigh, ignoring the reflexive closing of her legs, and then across the side of her panties, and up her flat belly. She shivered.
“J…John? Say something, please?”
Thoughts ran across my mind but I didn’t want to say them out loud.
“John? Are you angry?”
I cupped one of her breasts and reached my thumb up to circle her nipple. Her body vibrated but I understood now that she couldn’t pull away from my teasing even if she wanted to. That simple fact inflamed me. Finally I spoke to her, my voice steady.
“No Mandy. I’m not angry.”
“Then…why won’t you talk…to…me…”
“Because first I’m going to finish the job.”
I reached down and slipped my fingers under the silk waistband. I had never seen my sister completely naked. Never seen her young sex. I eased down that expensive gift I had bought for her, sliding the material over her thighs, finally revealing what I had so long fantasized about.
Her skin was as soft as a baby’s, but her teen years were revealed by a crop of curly hairs, light in color, which filled czech sharking porno in the vee between her squeezed-shut thighs. The arch of her pubic mound gave a womanly sense to her otherwise girlish body. The contrast of young and mature, even while exquisitely beautiful, was almost raunchy. She looked downy-soft, apparently not yet having to shave or trim to achieve the neat triangle of her womanhood. Moreover, the thatch was still too thin to hide, despite her closed legs, the pink lips of her labia which poked through her secret garden.
“John?” she whimpered.
I pulled the expensive panties down her resisting limbs and, one at a time, eased them off her ankles. I turned them so the crotch would catch the candle light. My sister’s desire was betrayed in the trail of white cream tracing the inside of the dark cloth.
“Oh John, I was just…it was just that I was waiting for you…”
I let her watch open mouthed as I licked the stained material with my tongue. The door creaked behind me – I must have left it ajar to the evening breeze. But I didn’t care. Nothing would distract me now.
Her whole body was quivering. I looked again at her eyes, dark in the candlelight. Had she simply been afraid of my silent intensity, it would have been different. But I could tell there was something else. My sister was shaking with sexual excitement.
I drew one leg over to the side and tied her ankle. Coyly, Mandy brought the other thigh across to lay beside it, hiding her naked crotch from me. With unhurried measure, I took her other ankle, and using the strength in my arms to go slow and smooth, eased it away to the other side, to the strap which would complete her full binding. I finished my task before stepping back to admire her.
My sister was now shaking uncontrollably, thighs pulling in vain against the ties, unable to close her legs from my gaze. The petals of her cunt were open to the soft yellow glow.
“Oh Sis,” I whispered. “You are so beautiful.”
My words were rewarded with a drop of moisture slipping from the base of her quivering labia, the creamy-white pearl glistening in the light.
“There is something I have been wanting to do for a long time,” I told her.
I could see her dark eyes on me as I slowly unbuttoned the shirt and peeled it off my shoulders. I recalled how, days before, seeming so long ago now, she had stood watching me in the harsh light of the sun, my body wet with sweat and labor. I paused with my hand resting on the buckle of my heavy leather belt.
“Ohhh, John???” my sister moaned loudly.
“Not too loud, Sis,” I said reflexively, even as I was climbing on to the bed to kneel between her spread legs. “Mom could come home any moment…”
I took a deep whiff of her perfume. Up close, with her thighs open, I could scent not just the light fragrance of the young girl who was for so many years my little playmate. Was it my imagination? Or was there, also present, the pungent witness to a maturing sexuality?
“J…John…” Sis quivered. “Mom’s…watching you…”
I froze, my mouth mid-air, inches from her glistening petals.
I felt suspended on the edge of a cliff. Finally my mind let itself acknowledge what my body had been slowly realizing for some time. I heard the soft rustle of satin, and in my peripheral vision absorbed the night-gown clad figure sitting down in the chair on the edge of the candle light. I forced myself not to turn my head as the layers of truth slowly dawned on me. They had played me. They both had been playing me…for days. My own mother had first taunted me…and then led me here. To her room. To her daughter.
“J..John…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…to…I just…wasn’t sure how to get you to…and…and Mom thought…”
I looked up my sister’s body, from her moist slit, along the length of her slender torso, to where her nipples poked up, hard and swollen, from her tiny tits. She had lifted her head and was pleading to me with her eyes. Shock turned to…not exactly anger. Something else. And then cleared to a simple realization. There was only one thing I could trust in this, only one anchor. My sister’s desire for me. If she had played me – it was because she had genuinely wanted me.
Without another word, I leaned forward and did what I had wanted to do for days. Weeks. Fuck it, for years. I slid my tongue, not up the stained fabric of my sister’s panties, but up the glistening lips of her cunny.
“Ohhhh, John. Yes!” she called out with full throat.
I plunged inward, separating her petals and tasting her cream directly. She called out again, and her legs pulsated inwards until they struck the limit of the ankle ties. I licked upwards, exploring the tight slit, and she spread her thighs wide again to give me access. I sought her clitoris. As I sucked her sensitive button between my lips, she bucked reflexively, her bound legs trying in vain to close. Soon, she was like a boat at anchor in a choppy sea, rising on her own waves of desire, and then being jerked short as she yanked against her chain. Time and again, each time harder, she rose up and then caught herself short. And throughout, her voice rose and fell in unison, like a bird caught in a trap, struggling and cooing against the bars for freedom.
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