0 comments/ 128528 views/ 9 favorites Grown Up By: reddercolors You could say I'm a late bloomer. My high school years were marked with rejection after rejection. It seemed like no woman wanted anything to do with me. Not that I blamed them. I had no confidence, no guts, and not much to offer in the way of sexual experience. After high school, however, I gained some momentum and found myself having any number of exciting sexual experiences, all of which added to my confidence, which added to my experiences. Despite my awkwardness, during high school, one house always invited me in: the house of my friend Kelsey. She was my first friend in high school, and certainly my best. She and I bonded over our mutual insecurities and her house was as much an emotional haven for me as I was for her. The welcoming feeling was not just provided by Kelsey, but also by her mother. Her mother . . . an older woman who treated me not as an awkward teenager, but as an exceptionally gifted and artistic kid perhaps wise beyond his years. She didn't make me feel lesser for not fitting in; she made me proud. Her name was Terri, and she was unmarried. Kelsey's father was long out of the picture (if he ever was really in it) and I think she appreciated having a man, however young, around the house. I know I certainly appreciated having my masculine ego inflated with every errand she had me do. I did them willingly, glad to have found a niche, and eager to repay her for allowing me into her home. Terri and I were always a bit flirty, but of course, she could be only so flirty with a kid of seventeen. Despite the age difference, I couldn't help but be attracted to her. She carried herself with a grace that only older women have. Her eyes were calm with experience, and her body moved slowly and intriguingly. In between having my confidence boosted by Terri, I would rather uncomfortably court Kelsey, trying to asuage my loneliness with finding a girlfriend, while ignorantly thinking she was the proper girl for the role. Kelsey and I were obviously better as friends, a realization I had none too soon. I kept in touch with both Terri and Kelsey all through college, and I actually grew closer to Terri as I helped her cope with the departure from home of her only daughter. I did the best I could from another state, and she admired the effort; I think she admrired that anyone even remembered her. The three of us rarely saw each other, but we were held tightly by the invisible bond that perpetually ties together those who still care about each other, regardless of distance or situation. Fotunately, I was well over my shallow advances on Kelsey when I was greeted with the astounding news that Kelsey was getting married! With my boyish crush years behind me, I could welcome this news with the selfless jubilation it deserved. This also called for me to return home, and to spend my first significant time with Kelsey and Terri in years. I arrived home a few days before the wedding and was glad to see that Terri was not distraught over the marriage as I had feared. Kelsey's fiancee was great. Indeed, that was not the problem, but I feared Terri might see it as the "loss of a daughter". Instead, she was as elated as all of us. During the furor around the ceremonies, I was able to return to the home that had welcomed me for so many days and nights only a few years before. There I could speak privately with Terri and get her feelings on the marriage, though I figured I knew what she would say. The time was mid-afternoon when I finally pulled up to the house. Not much had changed. It still had the comfortable chaos I remembered: boxes, magazines, and international art littered the house rendering it endearingly messy, never dirty. It was the home of an eccentric, a relentless planner who never actually had the time to take action. I was greeted by Terri's relaxed yet vital smile at the door. She had clearly just come from work, as she donned a dark gold jacket with matching skirt, patterned blouse, and dark green stockings with no shoes. The last part made me laugh because it was so sexy, and was so sexy because it made me laugh. She hugged me as always and welcomed me in. "Look at you," she said warmly. "I'm glad you could make it. Kelsey's honored." "I'm the one that's honored," I responded humbly. "I'm proud to be in a wedding like this. Kelsey deserves it." Terri invited me in. We went and sat on the couch. I reluctantly asked her for a glass of water, apologizing even before I did so. "No you can't have a glass of water," she replied sarcastically. "Don't worry, I can afford it." She poured the water for me, though I offered nervously to do it myself. I wasn't nervous around her, but I always adopted a squirrely humility when I was a guest. Terri never stood for it, and soon I relaxed back into the old habits. It was only a matter of minutes before the conversation was flowing and I was liberally snacking on a bowl of mixed nuts. "So, are you excited!?!?" I asked with a wry, half-serious enthusiasm. "Yeah," she said, drawing out the word slowly. "I mean, it's her big day. The planning went well, the dress looks beautiful, everything's great." "I was actually a bit nervous you'd be dreading it, like she was abandoning you," I said. "Oh she abandoned me years ago," she laughed. "Awww don't think like that. She loves you. You're her whole world. That will never, EVER change. Trust me." "I know, I know," she exhaled. Terri always seemed lonely, but in the silence that fell on the room, I suddenly felt the need to say it seriously for the first time in our history. "I AM lonely," she replied, as though it were so obvious that I seemed slow to only mention it now. "Well, get up and do something about it," I urged, though I had no specifics in mind. "What am I going to do?" She put her hand on my knee. "I can't magically be twenty years younger my dear." She stood up purposefully in front of me and gave a stare filled with something I cannot pinpoint, but which was intensely powerful. She walked to the kitchen and began putting away dishes. And with that, I felt as though Terri and I were at the first fork in our years of closeness. It was not a mental fork, but a visceral physical one, and a charge rushed through my body. I restrained the fury but not the impulse, and walked into the kitchen to find her facing the sink. Her hair was pinned up into a sexy loose bun and her stockings clung smoothly to her legs. Her figure was great and her skirt was just short enough to be "inappropriate" for her age. How was this woman so lonely? I approached her from behind and placed my hands on her hips. She leaned her head back to mine and lifted her hand to caress the side of my face. "I don't want you twenty years younger," I whispered. "I want you like you are." I began getting hard, and reached down to touch her gorgeous smooth thighs. At the moment I felt the soft nylon at my fingertips, she pulled away. "You don't understand," she said, seeming to fight off despair. "I haven't . . . " I knew what she was going to say. She hadn't been with anyone for years. "I don't care," I implored. "Just lay back. I'll be gentle," I said with a wink. We walked to the dining room where she had a large wooden table and began passionately kissing. I couldn't keep my hands off of her, and it was clear I was going to be the aggressor. I placed her on the table and took her jacket off, and we continued kissing. I moved downward slowly, kissing her neck and chest. Finally, I hiked up her skirt and saw the thigh-highs I was longing for. I ran my hand over them, feeling every soft stitch on my skin. Above them were black panties with a lace trim, a panty choice that suggested she was hoping I might see these today. I kissed her inner thigh and took her panties off. I began kissing around her labia and thigh, gently licking and responding to her every shiver. "Oh my god," she moaned with a laugh. "I missed this." I began eating her pussy slowly, tonguing the hole and teasing the clit. I knew she didn't need much motiviation to release her years of pent-up sexuality, so I quickly began fervently licking her clit. My tongue moved forcefully over it, making sure to caress it with every motion. She was building steam and I was becoming excited to be the one to make her cum after so many years. "Oh god, don't stop," she demanded, as her demeanor quickly became more forceful. ""Are you gonna cum?" I asked, only to hear her say it aloud. "Oh god," she moaned again. "Oh shit, ohhh . . . " I kept the same steady pace, allowing it to build. Slowly yet steadily she built towards her climax, and as she neared, I became more and more turned on. "Here it is!" she yelled and she began to shake furiously as she came. "I'm cumming!" I kept licking and didn't stop until the orgasm had passed and it began to tickle instead of pleasure. She laid there silently for a minute, looking to the side with her hand on her head. I knew she needed a respite, so I did not speak up. She would when she was ready. "Thank you," she said gleefully and leaned up to kiss me. Her kiss was blissful, sloppy in the way one kisses when they simply don't worry how they look. "You're welcome," I humbly snickered. "My pleasure." She kissed me deeply once again and took my shirt off. Quickly she unfastened my belt and dropped my pants, pulling my underwear down just after. She reached down and grabbed my erection, rubbing it gently as she kissed me once more. Without speaking, she leaned back down, laying on the table, and pushed me inside of her. Her pussy was still tight, and it felt and moved as though it was welcoming me home. It squeezed tightly around my cock, and as she moved back and forth, it didn't so much slide over me as jerk me off. I picked up her legs and placed her feet on my shoulders. I kissed the stocking-covered legs frequently as I began pounding faster. I grunted and began sweating, and knew I had to hold back. I couldn't cum this soon after she waited so long! "Is it still good?" she asked. "So fucking good. Soooo . . . fucking . . . good." "Come on baby," she said breathily. "Ah fuck," I said through clenched teeth. "I want to be on top." She said this with great authority, and I was in no mood to argue. I pulled out and sat on one of the large wooden chairs accompanying the table. She hiked her skirt up more and straddled me. I popped in with ease and she quickly began riding me steadily. I grabbed her ass so she bounced up and down, and with this she began building again. "Oh shit," she said as I started. "Oh shit," once more but more forcefully. I knew she was getting close and I wanted her to cum again before I did, but as she got tighter, my urge built more and more. "Cum baby. Come on. Fuck it," I said, motivating here. She rode harder and I pounded harder. She reached back and began tickling my balls with her right hand while her left held the back of the chair. I knew I wasn't going to last much longer. Loudly and wildly she came again, squeezing my cock to the brink in the process. This time, I could not let her bask. "I'm gonna cum," I grunted. "I'm close." She moaned at this as I kept stroking inside her and I knew it was okay. "I'm close. Here it is." And with her still tickling my balls, I unloaded them into her. A brief second after my first shot, she moaned loudly again and began to squeeze: not a full orgasm, but enough to make me cum harder than I had anticipated. She kept riding and I kept cumming, until I was spent and unable to move my hips as forcefully as before. She draped herself over me and we laid there, her hands on the back of the chair, mine on her hips. We were sweaty and panting, our faces smiling and our muscles melting. I can't say how long we stayed like this. Eventually, she threw her head back, her hair now wild, and greeted me with a grin. "Well!" she said, still with a knowing glance. "I needed that." Her comments were wry with understatement and I knew that the sex had relaxed her body, but kept her mind perfectly sharp. It was just as sexy as the moments before. "Me too!" I said almost argumentatively. "It's certainly always welcome, I'll say that." She climbed off and I saw droplets of my cum fall out of her, while her juices coated my still hard cock. I couldn't help but stare at her ass , bordered by the skirt and thigh-highs, as she sauntered to the bathroom. I laid there, glad to be the one who put the bounce in her step. She moved like someone ten years younger now. I considered going after her again. "No," I thought. "This was exactly how it was supposed to be." She came back with her skirt pulled down and her hair redone. I was buttoning my jeans when she kissed me one last time. I kissed back, and the kiss took on a life of its own. When we separated, I put on my shirt and said I should be going. She ran her hand through her hair and smiled. "Okay. I guess I'll see you at the wedding?" I laughed. "Yeah. It was fun." "Boy was it! Don't worry. No one needs to know. Go find a lucky girl." "Hopefully," I said. Once again, she made me believe I could. Grown-Up Kissing Cousins Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction concocted entirely within my imagination. Any resemblance to real people shouldn't be surprising since most of my stories are based on people I know. While I hope you enjoy this story and are compelled to provide feedback, I don't expect the subject matter will appeal to everyone who reads it. As such, I discourage venomous, nasty feedback full of violent wishes against essentially fictional characters in fictional situations. If this story does not appeal to you, there is undoubtedly one somewhere on Literotica that will, so your energy will be better spent on finding it rather than on vilifying me. Your opinions are welcome but your attacks are not. ***** Since I was going to be passing through town, I reached out to my cousin, Corinne, to see if she'd be around so I could drop by. I didn't get to her area very often and it had been a while since we'd last seen each other so I thought it would be a good opportunity to catch up as well as a good break in the middle of my drive. Although we'd grown up fairly close to each other, we were now separated by a fair distance since we'd grown up. She was a single mom to two kids with two different dads. She'd been married and divorced twice but worked hard and raised her daughters despite limited support from her two exes. Her shortcoming where men were concerned was that, instead of going into a relationship with somebody who was right for her, she seemed to go into relationships with guys she thought she could turn into somebody who was right for her. I'd always kind of felt like, if you get involved with a guy you meet at a bar, you're going to be dating a guy who likes to go to the bars. Likewise, if you meet a guy at church, you'll be in a relationship with a guy who goes to church. You don't try to turn one of them into the other. My relationships weren't perfect, either, but sometimes it is easier to see why from the outside than from the inside. It turned out that Corinne was going to be around but her girls wouldn't, which was fine because it meant that we could have an adult conversation. Maybe that was why our conversation ended up going where it did and how our afternoon ended up the way it did. Since I had to get back on the road after my visit, I turned down her offer of a beer but accepted a cup of coffee. We spent some time just getting caught up on everything that was new that we didn't share on the social networking site we both frequented. I didn't have any kind of ulterior motive with the question I ended up asking; we were cousins, after all. Really it was just curiosity that made me go there. "So," I started, "is there a guy currently in the picture?" "No," she replied, "I'm just focusing on myself and my girls for now. My track record speaks for itself, as you know." "Well, nobody's perfect," I said, "but is there somebody taking care of, you know, your needs? Friend with benefits or something?" "Nope," she replied, "It's all my responsibility. What about you? Is there a lucky lady in your life?" "No, not at the moment," I confessed, "I seem to be a magnet for basket cases. How do women hide it until they've sucked you in? Or why do they bother hiding it if it's just going to come out eventually?" "Let's not even go there," she suggested. "Good point," I said, "but I've got an idea that might be a little...offbeat." "Go on," she cajoled. "As long as I'm here," I started, "what if I was to scratch any itch you might currently have." She didn't respond but it looked as though she was really considering it. "Hear me out," I continued, "we're both adults and I'm not suggesting we enter into a relationship. I'm just offering to help you out." "What did you have in mind?" she asked. "I was just thinking maybe I go down on you until you ask me to stop," I replied. "What are you going to get out of it?" she asked, shifting a little in her seat. "Aside from good karma?" I asked, "Hone my oral skills, I guess. No strings attached. How often do you get an offer like that?" "Pretty much never," she replied, "Okay, let's do this." She got up so I did, too, then I followed her to her bedroom. I'd have been fine with doing it right there in the living room but this would work, too. I knew I couldn't fix her issues with men but I just wanted to do something nice for her and I'm not really sure why this came to mind. It wasn't like I ever carried a torch for my own cousin. It's not that she was unattractive; she was blue-eyed with long blonde hair, like most of the family. It was like, at that moment, I just stopped seeing her as my cousin and instead saw her as a woman with a need I might be able to fulfill for her. I honestly wasn't even thinking that I might get something out of it myself but, as we reached her bedroom, I realized that I was going to see her naked at the very least. She did have a nice figure so I was thinking that would be enough of a payback. We didn't kiss, since this was not a romantic moment. I just started to unbutton her blouse while she watched my hands at work. I slipped it back and down her arms while she let it drop to the floor. Her nipples were hard but I didn't caress her tits just yet, though I did admire them contained within her bra. I hunkered down and opened her jeans, revealing her panties, then began to work her jeans down until she was standing there in just her bra and panties. Still hunkered down, I looked up and thought she looked pretty damn good. I wondered if she'd allow me a photo before I had to leave. If I made her cum good and hard, she might be willing. Standing up again, I did caress her tits then, feeling her hard nipples through the thin material of her bra. She sort of gasped slightly but that was it, though I suspected that her pussy was becoming very wet. I didn't want to rush, though I was getting anxious to devour her pussy; I wanted to build her up a little first then, hopefully, give her a long and intensely pleasurable orgasm or two or three. I reached behind her and unfastened her bra then slid it off her shoulders and down her arms while watching as her tits were revealed. Her areolas and nipples were light pink, which made sense since she was so fair-skinned. I caressed the bare flesh and brushed my palms over her hard nipples before lowering my head to lick and suck her hard nipples while continuing to caress the soft, smooth flesh. She held my head and ran her fingers through my hair as I alternated from one tit to the other. Eventually, I dropped down again and started to slide her panties down. Her bush was well-groomed and very blonde which made me even more anxious to devour her pussy. She stepped out of her panties then, after I admired her naked body above me for a moment, helped me up. She sat on the edge of her bed and scooted back until she was in the middle then propped up her pillows and lay against them. I moved up onto the bed on my knees, positioning myself between her spread legs, and gave her naked body another once-over before lowering my face toward her pussy. Once I was close enough, I ran my tongue along her slit, tasting the pungent nectar that was flowing and causing her to moan. I glanced up as I lapped at her pussy, beyond her tits to see that she had her eyes closed but her mouth hanging open. I slurped up her juices, not thinking that I was going down on my cousin, but just being happy for the opportunity to eat a juicy pussy that I'd never eaten before. It had been a while since I'd been with someone who I'd never been with previously and the fact that she was my cousin really meant very little in the grand scheme of things. After basically slurping up her juices for a bit, I slipped first one then a second finger into her hot, wet pussy as I licked her clit. She started moaning louder immediately and it was obvious that she was very worked up. I was sure that it was partly just from the anticipation beginning at the point when we'd started discussing this but, if she'd been taking care of her own needs for a while, part of it was also certainly just due to having somebody else driving her toward an orgasm. I didn't think it would take very long for her to cum but I was planning to continue devouring her hot pussy until she stopped me. I was hoping to make her cum several times and for each orgasm to be equally intense and pleasurable. I wasn't really expecting that she'd necessarily take care of me once I'd taken care of her but I was definitely hopeful. Her pussy was very hot and wet and I knew it would be a treat to slip into. I also suspected that, if I could make her cum orally, she'd probably be open to making me cum similarly. Though those thoughts did cross my mind, my focus was primarily on the tasty blonde pussy that was spread out in front of me. I was pumping my fingers in and out of her while licking and sucking her clit and it was only a few minutes after I'd first slipped my fingers in when she started shaking the first time. She let out a soft cry as she was cumming though I assume it was because she was accustomed to cumming quietly. I could feel her pussy being flooded with even more juices so fucking her crossed my mind again but I remained focused on continuing to eat her. I don't know whether she was expecting me to stop since I had to know that she'd cum but I didn't let up at all. It was rare that I didn't enjoy eating pussy but when I was with somebody I'd never been with before, I tended to indulge in going down, both for her pleasure and my own. As she recovered from her orgasm, she was immediately building up toward another one, which was my goal. I could tell just by how she was moving and the way her pussy felt, though the fact that she was getting louder was revealing as well. My experience had typically been that, after the first orgasm, even if it had taken a bit of time and effort, the one or ones that followed typically required less time and effort. Corinne was rocking her hips toward my face and had grabbed my head, though she wasn't forcing her pussy against my face yet. I don't know if she realized that she'd silenced herself when she'd cum but she wasn't doing it any longer and was now moaning continuously and pretty loudly. She tensed up some as I continued eating her but, as she started cumming again, her body went limp and she started trembling. I ate her through this orgasm as well as a couple more before she finally stopped me. "You have been amazing," she said, "but I don't know if my mind or body can handle any more and, as appealing as orgasm-induced insanity sounds, I have my girls to raise. I am so going to return the favor, though." "Unless you're certain that you'd lose your mind," I replied, "you could always ride my cock for a bit first." "It's been so long since I've had a stiff cock inside me," she said, "that I am totally willing to risk it. Let's get you naked." I'd kicked my shoes off beside the bed but otherwise I was still fully dressed. She sat up and reached for my shirt as I straightened up on my knees, so I raised my arms to allow her to remove it. With that cast aside, she opened my jeans and started working them down. I flopped onto my back to make it easier for her and she got onto her knees to yank them the rest of the way down. I was watching her bouncing titties as she tossed my jeans aside and turned back to caress the bulge in my briefs. I was absolutely rigid and, when she slid my briefs down, my throbbing tool popped right out. She tossed my briefs aside, too, and after taking a moment to stroke my cock and caress my balls, she was straddling me. My gaze was alternating from her bouncing tits to her golden bush as she lowered it toward my cock. She guided my cock toward her approaching pussy then engulfed it, causing both of us to moan. She sat there for a moment, straddling me with my cock fully embedded in her pussy as I savored the way it felt. I reached up to caress her tits, brushing my palms over her hard nipples, wondering again how she might feel about photos. She started to move slowly up and down on my tool and her hot, slick pussy felt absolutely incredible. I continued to fondle her tits but I was really savoring the grip of her pussy on my cock. I wasn't sure that I'd be able to hold out for her to have additional orgasms with it feeling so good, but I typically did okay when my partner was on top so I wasn't going to sweat it. Since she'd just been planning to "return the favor" anyway, I didn't think she'd be too bummed if I couldn't hold out. As she started humping my cock harder and faster, I was feeling more like I was going to be okay, though. And maybe she'd only be able to handle one more orgasm after what she'd said when she stopped me from eating her. I realized as she increased her pace that her tits were bouncing so I stopped fondling them and just watched them, my hands going around to caress and squeeze her ass. I was pushing up into her each time she came down on me and it seemed like she was quickly on the brink of another orgasm. I honestly hadn't really thought that I'd be able to get her to cum this much but I guess she really was that pent up. I certainly didn't feel like I could take full credit for it myself but if she wanted to reward me for it, I wasn't going to turn that down. When she went from riding me hard and fast to almost going into slow motion, I would feel her body trembling once again. She was even louder this time, too, so she must have been getting comfortable with being alone in the house. She stopped briefly, breathing heavily, before going right back to riding me hard and fast. I kept pushing up into her, giving her all the penetration I could while starting to feel my orgasm stirring. Before I was quite there, though, she did manage to cum one more time before she had to climb off of my cock. "Same problem as before," she gasped then moved down between my legs as I watched her tits swinging. Taking my throbbing cock in her hand, she wrapped her lips around it and sucked it into the warm confines of her mouth. I moaned as she started bobbing her head up and down, her lips caressing my cock and bringing my orgasm on even faster, though with an incredible amount of pleasure. I watched as she sucked me off, her blonde hair cascading around her face and her blue eyes occasionally glancing up at me. I knew that I'd be thinking back on this moment a lot, probably while wishing we lived closer together so I could experience it on a regular basis. Of course things might get a little complicated then but I was sure I'd have trouble finding anything to complain about. She was really good when it came to sucking cock so I was savoring her talent as she managed to draw out the pleasure I was feeling. Mostly she was pumping the base while her lips moved up and down my shaft but occasionally she'd take a brief break and tongue my balls. My cock was growing thicker the closer I got to cumming but she was unfazed and just continued sucking while the level of pleasure I was feeling continued to build. Even when I started spurting into her mouth, she just swallowed my load and kept on sucking me off. It was only once I was completely spent and starting to soften that she let my cock fall from her mouth. She smiled up at me then crawled up the bed, her tits swinging, and lay beside me. "Thank you for making me cum," she said, "You may have noticed that I was a little pent up so I appreciate you ignoring the taboo of fucking your cousin." "It's probably good that we don't live too close to each other," I replied, "or I feel like I'd be ignoring that taboo a lot." "Oh you certainly would," she confirmed, "You don't make a girl cum like that and think she'll forget about it. I'm already thinking about road trips. I never cum that easily or that much." "You are welcome at my place any time," I told her, "and if you have another daughter-free weekend, I'll do the traveling." "Awesome," she said, lying against me. "In the meantime, though," I started, "how would you feel about sharing photos?" "You thinking about jerking off to pictures of your cousin, you redneck?" she asked, giggling. "I could video myself jerking off to photos of my cousin, if you'd like to see that," I replied. "You bet your ass I want to see that," she confirmed, "and I'd send you some video right back." "You're going to get me aroused again just thinking about it," I told her. "Well I guess you'll have to fuck me again before you leave," she stated. We started making out, the first time we'd kissed, while she reached for my cock and I fondled her tits. My cock was recovering quickly, partly due to her hand, partly due to her tongue in my mouth and partly due to the thought of photos and videos bouncing around my brain. Once I was fully rigid, I moved my hand down from her tits, through her bush, to make sure she was ready to go. I found her pussy practically overflowing with juices which just made me want to slip my cock into her. I started to get up, planning to just roll over on top of her and fuck her missionary but she had a different idea. She rolled over onto her stomach then pushed her ass up in the air. I got up onto my knees and moved behind her, running my hands over her bare ass before taking my cock in hand. I guided it to her pussy and pushed myself in until my hips were pressed against her ass, both of us moaning. She had her face pressed against the comforter and it looked like she was reaching back between her legs with one hand. I wondered if that was just habit or if she thought she might need a little help along this time. I was holding her hips as I started to slowly fuck her but once I got a nice rhythm going I slipped my hands up to cup her swinging tits. Fucking her from behind felt just as incredible as it had having her riding me and sucking me off so, obviously, I was in seventh heaven. Based on how her pussy was feeling and how she was pushing back as I was thrusting into her, I suspected that she was right there with me. I was never at that point where I was like "Oh my God, I'm fucking my cousin!" It was more like "Oh my God, I'm finally getting laid!" The fact that she was my cousin was actually secondary to the fact that she was a woman who was actually willing to fuck me. Again, I had a feeling that she was right there with me on that, too. Her pussy was feeling so incredible that I think the only thing that was keeping me from cumming immediately was the fact that I'd cum once already. I was kind of hoping that it was working the opposite for her, that she would cum more easily and more quickly since she'd cum already. It wasn't that I wanted her necessarily to cum quickly and be done but I still wanted that reassurance that she was going to cum before I did and not leave her high and dry. There was definitely nothing dry about this experience, however. I could feel her pussy becoming even wetter and hotter the longer I was fucking her, which I was glad I could enjoy without worrying about it making me cum too quickly. When she started pushing back against me even harder and faster, I straightened up and basically just let her set the pace. If I tried matching her rhythm, I just kept throwing it off so I was pretty much just kneeling there as she backed repeatedly into my cock. I'd give a little thrust each time her ass hit my hips but that was about it and it felt absolutely outstanding. When she gave a good, hard shove backwards and just stayed there, I felt the tremors coursing through her body as she came again. She pushed back a couple more times as her orgasm tapered off then pulled away from me and rolled onto her back. I took a moment to admire her body laid out in front of me, searing it into my memory despite the promise of photos, then lowered myself over her. I guided my cock back into her hot and now even more slippery pussy then brought my lips to hers. Our tongues snaked into each other's mouths as I started to slowly fuck her, sliding the full length of my cock in and out of her. I was supporting myself over her on my forearms as she raised her hips to accept my slow thrusting. I could feel her tits brushing against my chest as they moved in rhythm with our fucking. Grown-Up Kissing Cousins I would have been content to fuck her like this for the rest of the day, even delaying getting back on the road, but I knew it wouldn't be possible. It wasn't because her daughters would be home at some point or that I'd be too tempted to just fall asleep with her in her bed; it was really because fucking her just felt so good that I knew she was going to draw a highly-pleasurable orgasm out of me before long. Whether I'd be able to draw another one out of her was questionable but, again, I doubted that she'd be unhappy if I didn't manage to. As I continued to slowly thrust in and out of her, my mind was pulling up the image of her naked as I was hunkered down in front of her, laid out naked as I prepared to eat her pussy, naked as she bounced up and down on my cock and naked just before I lowered myself on top of her. Of course this all just made me even more aroused but it also made me think about something else. I was caught a little off guard when she let out a cry and I could feel her shaking below me. I hadn't really been expecting her to cum again but I was really happy that it had happened. I continued fucking her and enjoying the feel of her pussy with the additional lubrication flooding it even after she'd finished cumming. It was only by reminding myself of the idea that had occurred to me a bit ago that I managed to force myself to extract my cock from her hot pussy. I got up on my knees and moved up to straddle her ribs, laying my cock between her tits. I squeezed them together around it and started to slowly fuck her cleavage. The feel of the soft, smooth flesh against my throbbing tool was outstanding and I knew I really needed to savor it because I wouldn't be able to for long. We were both focused on my cock between her tits, though I know I was also checking out her tits in general. She was more watching the head of my cock as it repeatedly appeared from her cleavage. I could feel my orgasm building and it was a conscious effort to keep the pace nice and slow. Part of the reason for that was to draw out the pleasure I was experiencing but part of it also was that fucking her tits hard probably was not going to feel that great to her. As I was looking down at her and she was running her tongue over her lips, I briefly contemplated moving forward and slipping my cock into her mouth again. Since she'd already swallowed my load, however, I decided to just fuck her tits right up until I came on her chest. As I got closer to cumming, my cock swelled even more and the pleasurable feeling continued to build. Finally, with a grunt, I started to spew. Her eyes went wide as my cum started shooting onto her sternum and, though my shots didn't quite have the required velocity, she stuck her tongue out hoping to catch some. I spewed a lot, just not far enough and, once I was spent, I released her tits and moved off to lie beside her. She was scooping up my cum with her fingers and feeding it into her mouth. I just watched while fondling her breast until she was done. "Again," she said, "I don't know how you make me cum so much. You may have given me more orgasms today than either of my exes ever did." "As much as I'd like to take all the credit," I replied, "I think you were just so pent up that you made it easy for me." "I don't know about that," she said, "but I appreciate you taking care of me, even though we're cousins." From the other room, there was a noise that I assumed was her phone because it didn't sound like mine. "I need to check that," she said, starting to get up, "Do you mind?" "Not at all," I replied, "Can you grab mine while you're out there?" I stared at her bare ass as she left the room and walked down the hall but my eyes went even wider as she returned and I watched her tits bouncing as she walked. "Em's just letting me know when she'll be home," she said, tossing my phone to me. "Do we need to get dressed?" I asked, immediately switching my phone to camera mode and over to video. "No, she won't be here for a while," she said, "You can stick around to say hi if you want but it would put you back on the road pretty late." "Okay, I think I'll pass then," I replied, "Can I ask a favor, though?" "Of course," she said, "Anything." "Can I just watch you walk down the hall and back again," I requested. "As long as I get to see the effect of the video when you watch it later," she replied. She walked away as I recorded then turned around and came back toward me, her tits bouncing enticingly. When she was back in the room, I zoomed in on her tits then panned down to her golden bush before stopping the recording. "That was hot," I said, "so you know whatever you send me can be as simple as that." "That's good to know," she replied, "but I bet I can do hotter." "I'll be happy with whatever you are willing to share," I said, "but if you need any ideas, just ask." "And if you have any requests," she said, "just ask." We lounged around naked for a bit longer, taking a few photos of each other but not getting each other too worked up again since I needed to hit the road. Eventually, we ended up pulling our clothes back on and I got ready to leave. After a last minute visit to the bathroom, I was ready to go but, before we walked outside, we were in each other's arms, making out passionately. "Couldn't have done that if I'd stayed to say hi to Em," I said once we'd parted. "True," she replied, "but then I also wouldn't be feeling aroused again already." "Well keep your camera handy if you need to take care of yourself once I'm gone," I suggested. She walked me out to my car but we kept things innocent as we hugged one more time before I left. When I reached my next destination, though, she had a few photos and a video already waiting for me and it wasn't long after that I had some to send back to her. Grown-up Nina (FnF) My father and grandfather were both British. That meant harsh discipline, corporal punishment, and men being stoic. And a few other Britishisms. From a parental standpoint, it meant that I didn't put up with much guff. I had no issues meting out a spanking to any of my kids if they deserved it. I divorced when my eldest was 10 and my youngest, six. I met Sonja two years later, and a year after that I was into my second marriage. Sonja had three children, same as me. She was a widow though, so we had her kids full-time, unlike the wonky 50-50 schedule my ex and I had worked out with mine. Nina was the eldest, eleven years old when I married her mother. Zachary and Mikhail were eight and six respectively. My three children, Noah, Janice, and Rachel, were all quite well-behaved and respectful, knowing what fate they would meet if they pushed me too far. Zach and Misha quickly learned what boundaries they could operate in, and after a reasonable adjustment time, fell in line were basically good boys. Nina was different though. I could never reach her. She was the only one of the three who never came to call me 'Dad', referring to me only by my first name, John. And she was wicked. She misbehaved constantly, acted out, stole, lied, pranked, teased, smoked, fought... There seemed to be nothing I could do to tame her spirit. She was extremely smart, but her school marks were erratic. She would get A's as often as she got F's, and had praise as frequently as condemnations from her teachers. She was a frequent visitor to the principal's office, and had been suspended twice. I beat her ass the same way I did with the other five, when they deserved it, but on her it seemed to have no effect. The only thing that made any difference to her behaviour is when I took my belt to her. I was loath to do it, and I'd only ever taken the belt to Noah twice and Rachel once. And for good reason. The other three never earned that. With Nina, I'd give her the belt, and then she'd actually be good. For about a week or two, tops. Then she'd be back to her old tricks. It drove me mad. I have a bit of a temper, too. Probably something to do with the repression of emotion or something. In any case, I'm very calm. Until I blow. Then, look out. I'd only ever lost my temper with any of the kids twice in my life, and never while punishing them. Anyhow, Nina was eighteen now. I hadn't had to use corporal punishment on any of the other kids past the age of about thirteen. By that point they'd got it. But with Nina, it seemed to be the only way to ever get any kind of limited good behaviour out of her. When she reached adulthood, I vowed that I would now never again lay a hand on her. It had been two and a half months since her birthday. And my patience was wearing thin. "Nina!" I called out, knowing she was upstairs in her room. Predictably, I got no response. "Nina!!!" "Whattaya want, John?" came her snarky response at my second intonation of her name. "Come downstairs, please. I want to talk to you." She took her time. I struggled to contain myself. I swore she did little, subtle things like that just to irk me. It was like a constant contest of wills, and she knew the ways to push my buttons. There were only two months of high school left! And she'd pulled her marks up admirably; she could probably get into any college she applied to now. Why couldn't she just be good? "Whassup, John?" she asked in a bratty pose with her hips tilted and her arms crossed. Her lips were screwed up in a defiant snarl. "I think you know." She was dressed sort of Goth, like usual. She had on a sort of corset-thing and a black silk top, with a gauzy skirt and black-and-white striped leggings. Her hair was dyed jet black and messed, with pigtails. Her makeup was thick and dark. I hated it. She also got her nose and lower lip pierced for her 18th birthday. She did it just to defy me, I was sure. "Yeah, well, that bitch had it coming to her." "We've talked about this before, Nina. You can't be fighting. Even if you're provoked. You've got two more months to go. That's it. Do you really want to get kicked out now?" "Whatever," was her dismissive response. "Look, Nina," I sighed, trying to keep my cool. "I've tried to reason with you here. You're the smartest kid I've got." "I'm not your kid," she broke in. "Yes, yes, I'm sorry. You're the smartest... person I have living under my roof that I pay for all of her food, lodgings, clothing and allowance." She screwed her face up at me even more at that. Lord, why did she provoke me like this? I was trying to treat her like an adult! Why did she always make it so difficult!? "Look, Nina, this can't continue. All you've got to do is finish this year off, ok? Then you can apply for college, get a job, travel for a bit, whatever you want! We've talked about that. I think I'm being more than reasonable to you. Just two months! Ok?" "Whatever, John. Two months. Fine." I felt my hackles rising. She always baited me this way. I had resolved not to give in. She was an adult, I would treat her like one. I prayed for once she would act like one. "Nina," I said, with a bit of an edge to my voice, "I haven't punished you at all since you've become an adult. I've backed off, let you get those damn... those piercings, backed off about you smoking... You get a lot of privileges. You've got a good situation here. Is it too much to ask for a bit of respect from you?" She had been looking off to her left as I spoke, not even acknowledging me any more than was the bare minimum. Her arms were still crossed as she slowly turned her head to fix me with a defiant gaze. Two words came from her lips. "Fuck. You." I was rooted to the spot for an instant, blasted with disbelief. None of any of the six kids had ever, ever spoken to me like that. I wasn't mean or cruel, but I had pretty distinct boundaries. My eyes flashed with rage for a second. Then I got a hold of myself. When she saw my veneer of calm crack the slightest bit, the corner of her lips twisted into the slightest hint of a smile. I swore, she enjoyed baiting me. "Nina," I said, my voice icy and even. "You're really trying my patience. I'm going to go for a walk here. When I get back, we're going to continue our talk. And you're going to give me respect as an adult, same as I will for you. Got it?" She just continued her challenging gaze and posture. Slowly, she moved her hands. She plucked a cigarette from behind her ear. She put it between her lips and slowly, deliberately, retrieved a box of waterproof matches that were tucked into the top of her corset. She knew that smoking, as much as I hated it, was at least permitted outdoors now that she was of age. She wouldn't dare to light up in the house. She struck the match. My brow furrowed into a scowl. Ever so slowly, she brought the match to the end of the cigarette. She inhaled. She drew in a drag, slowly plucked the cigarette from her lips with her fingers, and blew a stream of smoke straight at me. I snapped. In a blind rage, I lunged at her. She whirled and ran. I was hot on her heels and caught her by the skirt as she tried to bolt up the stairs. "Get your fucking hands off of me, John!" she yelled as I grabbed her and picked her up. She pounded on my shoulders and back as I carried her over to the couch. For a girl who could apparently throw a punch, she sure seemed like a pussy. I barely felt her blows. Maybe it was just the anger. Regardless, I bore her to the couch and flung her across my lap. If this was the only way to get any kind of respect out of her, then so be it. "Dammit, Nina," I roared back at her, "You've pushed me way too far here. You want to act like a kid? Fine, I'll treat you like a kid!!" "You fucking let me go right now!!" she screamed, thrashing about. I had her around the waist in my left hand as I unclasped and removed my belt swiftly with my right. I was so enraged, my hands were shaking. She screamed and struggled. I pushed her skirt up with my right hand and tore at her panties. I pulled them down to her knees, exposing her bare white ass while she shrieked and flailed about. I raised my belt and brought it down across her buttocks with a loud crack. She screamed and froze. I raised my belt again and whipped her right across her bare ass. And again. Red marks and welts appeared almost instantly as I whipped her butt cheeks hard and fast. She screamed and screamed, raising herself up on her arms and arching her back. I brought my belt down again and again, striking each cheek hard and deliberately, sharp cracking sounds cutting the air, matched by her cries of pain. By about the twentieth lash, I sort of came to myself again. My god. What had I done? I had totally lost my temper. I had just whipped her ass angrily, savagely. I was trying to treat her like an adult! God, what had I done?? I ceased my assault, completely taken aback at my actions. I didn't know what to do. Nina lay across my lap, sobbing bitterly, glowing red welts rising and throbbing on the smooth, white flesh of her bottom. I felt to cry myself. How had I let myself get so out of control? "...Nina?" I said softly. She just sobbed and sobbed. I repeated after a few seconds, "Nina?" She slowly turned her head to look at me. Her makeup was streaked as tears ran freely down her face. "Dad?" she said, her voice quavering. I was stunned. She'd never called me 'Dad'. Ever. She'd never written it, either. Any of the cards she ever written me were always addressed to 'John'. "Dad?" she sobbed again. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry..." I didn't know what to say. I was overcome with several emotions at once. I couldn't begin to sort them out. She rolled slightly to face me and softly took my hand. She raised it to her lips and kissed it softly. I was paralyzed. I didn't know what to think or feel. I was so, so sorry that I'd lost my temper treated her this way, and she was the one apologizing? She took my hand and brought it lower. Before I realized what she was doing, she had placed my hand squarely between her legs. Her pussy was sopping wet and hot as boiling water. "Please, Dad, I'm sorry," she whispered to me. "This is all I've ever wanted. I couldn't tell you. This is why I've always misbehaved. Please, just do this. I'll be good. I'll always be good. Just please, please, spank me..." My brain was completely destroyed. She was grinding her hips, slowly rubbing her inflamed, slippery snatch up and down on the heel of my hand. I couldn't think. I couldn't react. I had never been so utterly caught off-guard and unawares. She moaned deeply as she humped my inert hand. Alarm bells and warnings were screaming in my head, but it seemed they were coming from miles, miles away... Suddenly I snapped again. Differently this time though. My body totally possessed, but by lust this time, not rage. I flipped her over on to her back, my face a contorted mask of deliberation. She looked up at me with fear. I began tearing at my jeans and boxers, unbuttoning, unzipping, yanking them down, freeing my rapidly hardening penis... I was mad with need! Nina's expression turned from fear to disbelief, then to expectant desperation as she observed my frantic actions. She spread her knees, sliding her panties down to her ankles to give me access. I placed my helmet at her entrance, and in a frenzied trance, rammed deep into her in a single stroke. She cried out in pain or lust. I wasn't sure which, and was past caring. I began pounding inside of her. She threw her head back and wailed, her eyes closed and her beautiful mouth hanging open in surrender. I fucked my step-daughter furiously. Any part of my mind that might have insisted how wrong or improper this was remained silent. I was a primal fucking animal, completely taken with the lustful desire to fuck this beautiful young girl into oblivion. For my satisfaction. She screamed out finally after holding her breath for seeming minutes as I drove into her quivering pussy savagely. "Yes!" she cried. "Oh, god, yes!! Fuck me! Harder!! Oh, god, fuck me, Dad!!" As if I had a choice. My spinal column and testicles were in charge now. Sonja could have walked in on us right then and there and I wouldn't have been able to stop myself. If fucked deep and brutally, harder if it was possible, partly at her urgings, and partly just because my soul was completely bursting into flame with overwhelming desire. I drove into her rapidly, my cock disappearing to the hilt again and again into her slick, shivering teenage pussy. I felt my orgasm begin at the base of my spine. My balls clenched and my abdominals all contracted, my lungs seizing and my face contorting in agonized ecstasy. I thrust. Again. Deeper. The sensation of her hot pussy clinging to the shaft of my dick was too much. I roared out and came. I pitched on top of my step-daughter and shot, blast after blast of white-hot semen filling her up, pumping deep inside of her, completing my sinful, adulterous, incestuous act. She squealed a high-pitched bark, then screamed as she came, clawing at my chest and arms, bucking and convulsing underneath my lusty assault as she reached her climax. I was gasping for breath. Sweat beaded on my forehead. My thighs were burning from the friction on the couch and my jeans. Oh, god. What had I done? Again? What the hell had come over me? "Oh, Dad!" Nina gushed. "Oh, god, Dad, that was incredible!!!" I gasped for breath, overcome with a receding horror... She wasn't hurt... She wasn't upset... I hadn't raped her... She had wanted it. She had initiated it. Was this what she'd wanted all along? "Oh my god, Dad, that was so incredible... Please, please... You can do that to me any time. Every time. Every night! God! Whenever you want! Please, just do that. Spank me. Fuck me. Take me. Make me yours. You don't have to worry, I'm on the pill. I'll never tell Mom. You don't have to worry, just spank me and fuck me, and I'll be good, I'll be so good, you'll never have to worry again..." Grown Ups Helen noticed the boyfriend before the girl. He was tall and handsome in a young, trendy way; muscular arms wrapped around his girlfriend. Italian tourists, they looked like. Maybe Spanish. 20-something. Wedged into a corner by the door of the tube train, utterly oblivious to the rush-hour cram. Helen, sitting next to her husband George and on their way to The Bundle Of Joy Baby Exhibition, tried not to watch the couple. Especially, she tried - and failed - not to stare at the boyfriend's pierced tongue; pondering a Mumsnet discussion about tongue-studs being good for extra stimulation. Down there. She sighed, and crossed her legs. A twisted curiosity had her searching out his girlfriend's face, as if she might find someone with a saintly, blissed expression. Someone utterly satisfied. In reality, the girl made her smile. Helen might well be a tourist in London these days but she grew up in the city and went through exactly the same punkette look herself when she was that age, some 10 years ago. In fact, the girl did not look unlike her, wicked eyes, leonine nose and a big mouth. The only difference was her jet-black hair; a high contrast monochrome colouring that seemed naturally suited to punk. Helen always had difficulty rebelling with her drab, English ash-blonde. The girl could not stop kissing her boyfriend. Helen wondered if this proved the tongue-stud theory or not. Were they 'thank you' kisses or was she still... needy? Hands appeared on the boy's rear, small with gloss black nails and thick thumb rings; they squeezed his backside then pulled his hips hard to hers. He laughed loudly. Someone tutted. Helen blinked and looked away, feeling suddenly creepy, and squeezed George's hand. He reciprocated with a quick succession over-excited twitches. She had promised him a birthday 'doing' later; he would be like this all day. She wished she had sorted him out that morning rather than have it hanging over her. It had been kind of fun watching pay-per-view cheeky-TV in the hotel room the night before, but it was always too intense. Even though they'd both climaxed (doggy) while watching, it had been quick and fizzy and left her wanting more. Then as she fell asleep, she kept getting lurid flashes of plundered glistening pinkness. She had even woken up aroused in the middle of the night, much to George's delight, but he too seemed over-stimulated and frustratingly kept finishing too quickly. Her husband had been squeamish about sex since the ultrasound. Still early days, Helen hardly showed at all, and he was as rutty and attentive as ever before he saw the little bean curled up in there. Recently he approached her bits with a sensitivity that was simply irritating and she had hoped a naughty weekend might re-ignite him, but not this way. A succession of little firecrackers when all she wanted was one great big bang. Meanwhile - mocking her - the girl was really getting off on her boy's slim hips, with her bare thighs frog-legged either side of him. Helen's ears warmed. It was just as if the pay-per-view porn had followed her out into the real world. Maybe she had become so bothered she was projecting them into being from her subconscious. Then the couple were swallowing each other whole, mouths locked like tussling hippos and Helen squirmed. She wanted a month of tongue. All over. Then - dear Lord please - a long and rigorous and pumpy shafting. She needed not a mouthful of George's overexcitement. RideACockHorse, on Mumsnet, had got so fed up with her "Dear O.H." - and his obsession with her 'head' - that she went to the lengths of hypnotism. She had herself convinced that her tongue was another g-spot. The first couple of posts about the results were - literally - ecstatic. Her and her hubby had stopped going out of an evening, just so they could stay at home and play. The O.H. kept buying her gifts and even wrote her love poems. But, by the third post, RideACockHorse had undone the hypnotism. When every snack was an explicit act of self-love, she was piling on the pounds. Priorities. The train stopped and people squeezed out, including the handsome boyfriend. The girl gripped his hand to the last second and even plucked kisses to it before she let it go. "Remind you of anyone?" George said, nodding at her. Helen had an urge to punch him. An old man shuffled and wobbled amongst the jostle of people getting on and Helen, in a force of habit, offered up her seat quickly. The only space left to stand was that vacated by the boy, then - as the train became even more rammed - she found herself in the awkward position of being almost pressed to the punkette, who was glowering at everyone. The train lurched as it pulled away. The girl was ok - leaning against the wall with her legs braced in a narrow A - but Helen stumbled. The girl caught her, but not before Helen had planted her flip-flopped foot between the girl's boots, to steady herself. They shared an awkward smirk, left in an unusually intimate position. She was side-on to the girl, but Helen's leg was between her knees and neither could move. Helen tried to act like this was normal, just another day stuffed in the sweltering London tube. Mind the gap and all that. As long as they didn't look at each other, it was all good. But the girl did look. She stared at the discrete dripping-rose tattoo on Helen's shoulder. The logo of an obscure and aggressive all-girl band in the 90s. She blinked and raised an eyebrow and checked Helen's reflection in the black glass, eyes flicking around her face, then with the briefest of glances down at her breasts and legs. Helen tried to be cool and grown up but had an urge to giggle like a teenager. Probably the last time she'd been appraised so blatently, too. Honestly. Italians. Spanish. Whatever. The train lumbered along. The girl smelled of patchouli, a fragrance that tossed Helen back to her 20's and she subtly took long, deep breaths of it. In her wild years, Helen had gone through a sexually experimental phase and even had a girlfriend for one bright, brilliant summer. Her girlfriend would dab patchouli at the tops of her inner thighs, so now the fragrance was forever synonymous with being up-close to soft hidden places and delicate flesh. Even now, the tip of Helen's tongue secretly traced the alphabet in her mouth, recalling her special technique for eliciting gasps and swelling sighs. The experimental time only finished when she met George at a gig - he was the drummer - and he simply filled her heart. His name was coolly ironic back then, and he made her laugh and ache even before they'd got each other's kit off. She even persuaded him to try the patchouli thing for a while but it was never quite so beguiling on his veiny great club. And now, in a few months, she would have a baby. They would have a baby. She would be a mum. Patchouli was a call from the wild. The train stopped and picked up more passengers. An aggressive customer with a briefcase leant into Helen's back. Suddenly her thigh was forced between the girl's legs. Helen twisted her face to apologise but the girl fixed her gaze at the glass door, even though there was nothing to see as it faced the black tunnel wall. In silent, crushing embarrassment, they stay wedged together as the train moved off. Helen wished she was wearing jeans or something thicker and hadn't let George choose her outfit today. A little summer dress. The punkette wore a tiny pleated miniskirt too, and both were bare legged. The soft-on-hard dome of the girl's pubic bone was unmistakable against Helen's leg. Pornographic shaven-havens flashed behind Helen's eyes. Spread, dripping. She blinked them away and sought out George, awkward because of the wall of suited backs around her. When she caught his eye, he flapped his hand at his face. Only then, she realised her cheeks burned like they'd been slapped. She smiled, nodded, and still wanted to hit him. Why had she offered up her seat to the old bloke? She was pregnant for Christ's sake. Why hadn't George offered, it should be him, here, with his leg shoved against this sexy girl's warm, podgy... Fair enough. She tried to rationalise why she resented, so much, having to pleasure him later. It was nothing they hadn't done a thousand times. She used to rather enjoy all the hardcore stuff, the messy play. Once she got a terrible urge, ravishing him when he was up a ladder, yanking off his jeans and sucking him the complete cycle - from limp to hard to bursting to limp again. She'd loved that. And he would surprise her too. She sat on his lap once, and he pulled down her panties and fingered her to one of the finest (dribbliest!) orgasms of her life. And the actual finest: The day they argued about who could multitask, he brought her to climax switching between licking and shagging and she ended up with a lovely hot spurty mess all over her clit. Hmm. Clit. God how she loved that word. And cock. Thing is, all these were way more bonding than the ubiquitous Sunday night 'lovemaking' . Why did they have to go? The spontaneous romps? When did watching porn replace... doing it? Meanwhile, the rocking carriage jiggled the punkette's bits against Helen's leg. The girl shifted but it didn't help, if anything she made it worse. Helen tried to wipe her mind of the filth filling it, as if the girl might smell it on her. The train halted and Mr Angry got off. Helen sighed, but before she could move her leg out of the danger zone, the girl bambied her knees and clamped her thighs to it, holding her in place. Bare skin to bare skin. Helen's heart lurched then hammered. There was no innocent reason for this. Her brain crashed, and her mouth went dry. Then, as the train pulled away, the punkette unclamped her soft vice, slowly. All Helen had to do was slide her leg back and everyone would carry on their merry way. She leant into the girl, putting more pressure on their secret coupling, and twitched the muscle against her in case that wasn't "yes" enough. She had cyclist's thighs from all her spin classes and was very proud of her muscular bottom and legs. The stranger caught a breath. The train picked up speed and jiggled them together and the girl rolled her hips, too. Hungrily. Helen wondered if her dirty thoughts were contagious - and she had infected this poor girl with her insatiable itch - but it was more likely the boyfriend got her fired up with all that hip action and snogging. Though it certainly appeared the young stud's tongue-stud clearly wasn't doing its job, after all. Helen's hands trembled with illicit pleasure and she bit her lip to stop it quivering. Her head was full of the image of the girl's mound, resolved from its impression on her thigh. She fancied it was puffy and bald with a fat, throbbing clit. A hole slavering for her massive boyfriend's massive cock. She hadn't touched a girl since she met George, let alone made one cum. The thought that she might now, secretly, on a crowded train right under her husband's nose, made her deliriously horny. The girl leant her forehead against the window and her lips parted. She tugged her skirt from where it was tucked between them. Spellbound by dampness in the girl's gusset, and drunk with the blood of her quickened pulse, Helen lifted the front of her own skirt. She bunched it high on her abdomen, her black reflection indecent and widening the girl's eyes. She was Helen, 'The Trojan Whore'. Her skull carrying a whole invading army of porn out of the pay-per-view world and into the sensible world of commuters. And there she was, lifting the trap-door and letting it run riot. The girl cleared her throat and the same small, black-nailed hand that moments ago had petted her boyfriend's bum squeezed Helen's cotton-covered sex. Helen faced into the corner where a tube door met the wall, a tiny and intimate space visible only to her and the stranger. No-one could see them, but this was still a frightening, exciting place to be so impolite. The girl twisted a foot, and seemed very close to climax, judging by invisible, seismic tremors that ran through her body. Her fingers rubbed a little circle at Helen's bits, making her want to squeal in delight. This young punk definitely had some experience with girls, given the confidence of her movements, not to mention how much she seemed to enjoy the feeling of Helen in her hand. Then, as if to prove the point, the girl slid it boldly down the front of her knickers. Helen squeaked, quickly pretending it was a sneeze. For a moment, the hand cupped her, gently squeezing, hot and soft and demanding. Then Helen's knees wobbled as the girl explored her, fingers dipping inside and slipperily tickling her clit. Her eyelids drooped. The girl muttered something in a language she didn't understand but Helen whispered simply, "Yes." Then the door right beside them opened. In their fever, they hadn't noticed pulling into station with a platform on their side. The suddenly opened door revealed a woman waiting to get on the train. Helen froze. The girl froze. They stared coolly at the woman as if this was a normal, everyday thing on the tube. Playing with a fellow commuter's genitalia. The woman huffed, shook her head, and walked off to another door. Helen and the girl tittered as the doors closed again. Helen gently held the girl's hand in place, but she wasn't going anywhere. If anything, the shock had worked her up even more. She quickened her rubbing, and it became less directed, almost frenzied. She made tiny, barely held yelps and ground hard at Helen's leg. Helen curled one of the girl's fingers up inside her. It pushed and wriggled. Warm waves gathered and spread across her abdomen, she was close and this was a biggie. She clenched her hole on the girl's probing, and was rewarded with another finger inside her, the thumb ring pleasingly cold and hard on her clit. Helen braced herself as her knees quaked and her climax bloomed. With a cry locked behind sucked-in lips, the girl spasmed. Her digging fingers stiffened. Her eyes screwed shut and - stopping Helen's own orgasm in its tracks - a tear rolled down her cheek. Helen melted. She stroked the girl's arm as she shuddered and wrenched little gasps and the punkette's - obviously much needed - release became her own rush of pride. Helen brimmed with delight that she should give a random stranger such relief, but more than that, the unexploded bomb of own climax simply glowed inside her, its power retained. It made her feel... new. No. Grown up. When the girl finished, she shakily removed her hand from between Helen's legs and palmed the tear from her cheek. Helen leant to catch her eye but she sniffed and turned away. The train rolled into a station, the punk stood, and slid past her; clearly, she'd had enough room to move all along. Cheeky cow! Nevertheless, with all her heart, Helen hoped the girl had got what she needed. "THIS TRAIN TERMINATES HERE" Someone squeezed her bum. "This is us, babe," said George, suddenly right beside her. The girl quickly joined the bustle around the opening doors. Helen grabbed her husband's arm, blinking and swallowing. "You alright love?" He said, "You're all flushed and trembly?" The door opened and the girl pushed out quickly, without looking back. Helen felt something inside her stretch, then snap. "Hot," she said. They followed the others off the train. Helen carefully and discretely re-ordered her underwear. George helped a woman off the train with her buggy. The woman smiled, and then flushed when Helen caught her checking out his rear. "Hmm. This won't take too long will it, the exhibition?" Helen said. "Shouldn't do. Why?" George wound his arm round her waist. "Just can't wait to get back to the hotel, that's all. " She reached up, her lips brushing his ear as she whispered, "I want you to watch me do myself, while I do you." She patted his bum. "Multitasking." George burst a groan. "Holy shit. I am the luckiest person in the whole bloody world." She sniggered. "We both are." The girl marched off with Helen's wild years still in her hand. Head down, shoving against the crowd. Helen watched until she dissappeared. Then, grinning, she and her husband joined the slow queue of men and women, holding each other, shuffling expectantly in the opposite direction.