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Apologies

By: EmeraldKitten



The radio blaring jerked Jessica out of her slumber. She squinted her eyes against the bright sunlight pouring through the open window, and she leaned up, slapping the snooze button.

It was her day off, but she still set her alarm, not liking to sleep the day away. However, after her tiring day yesterday, she allowed herself an extra half hour. 

Jess finally stood up, rubbing her eyes as she headed towards the kitchen. The only thought in her head was that of coffee.

Once there was enough for a cup, Jess poured then took a tentative sip. There was almost an instant clearing in her head. She smiled, then went about going to the bathroom and feeding the cat.

Glancing around her apartment, she decided to clean. Jess opened all the windows, letting the cool morning breeze clear out the small rooms. She threw on an old pair of jeans and a plain white tank top, tossing her light brown hair into a sloppy ponytail. 

Pleased with the fact she looked hideous, she got down to business. Scrubbing, dusting, polishing, waxing. Before she knew it, she'd been through the pot of coffee and it was nearing lunchtime. She started another pot, then pulled open the refrigerator door. Deciding on a ham and Swiss cheese sandwich, she fixed it and ate in record time. 

She'd just poured another cup of joe, when the doorbell rang. She glanced down, aware she wasn't wearing a bra, and that she was wearing a white shirt, but decided she didn't care. Carrying her coffee cup with her, she went to the door.

Upon opening it, she gasped. 

"Good morning, beautiful."

Jessica merely gaped. 

The man at the door had his forearm propped against the jam, the other hand in his pocket. "No good morning for me?"

"Good morning." Jess replied stiffly.

The man's eyes drifted over her body, quickly memorizing each curve, swell and dip. Jessica fought the urge to cross her arms over her chest to hide her breasts from his gaze. 

She lifted the cup to her lips and took a sip. Too big of one, and it scalded her mouth and throat all the way down. It sat painfully hot in the pit of her stomach. Right on top of the ball of anxiety.

"Aren't you going to ask me in? Or offer me a cup of coffee?" The man asked as he straightened.

"I'd rather not." Jessica's reply was clipped.

"Aww, Jay, where have your manners gone?" His tone was slightly mocking. 

"They left when you did. And do not call me Jay. My name is Jessica, Jess if you must." She straightened her shoulders and raised an eyebrow at her unexpected, and unwanted visitor.

"You always did like to ride high on the horse." He smiled, then added, "Always like to ride too, as I recall."

Jessica felt her face flush at the intimacy of his words. Still, she didn't back down. "If that's how you'd like to remember it, be my guest. What are you doing here, Jon?"

"I just got back in town. My divorce was final last month. Took a while to get things straightened out, but they are, and I'm back." Jon shifted on his feet, bracing each palm on either side of the door.

"Congratulations. I hope you made her as miserable as you made me." Jessica took another sip of coffee and turned. "You might as well come in. Somehow I don't think you'll leave." 

He chuckled. "Ya got that right sweetheart." 

Jess heard the door shut and she asked over her shoulder, "Want a cup of coffee?"

"Sounds good. Nice place." 

"Thanks. I was in the middle of cleaning." Jess reentered the living room where Jon stood, watching the traffic through the window.

"Looks like you've done pretty well for yourself." Jon reached and took the coffee, his head nodding his thanks.

"Eh. Not too bad. Could be doing better, but I had to take a month or so off a while back, and haven't really been able to get caught back up."

"Yeah, I'd heard your dad passed away. I'm sorry Jessica. I always liked him." Jon's voice held no venom. He meant what he said.

"I know. He always liked you too, though I can't imagine why." Jess got her barb in gently.

Jon laughed. "Probably because I wasn't dating him. And I didn't leave him for another woman." His eyebrow arched, and Jess couldn't help but laugh a little.

"Yes. But he wasn't very loyal, because even after you did that to me, he still liked you, ya son of a bitch." Jess smiled at the memory.

"I'm sorry." Jon's eyes held pain. 

"For what?" Jessica's voice came out as a whisper.

"For everything. For your dad. For cheating, for leaving, for hurting you, for turning your life upside down. For coming in here this morning, acting like an ass. I just don't know how to act. And I thank you, for not slamming that door in my face."

Jessica was taken aback. 

"I've never apologized. I'm doing it now, and I mean every word. You were my world, Jay. I had such high expectations and goals of a life for us, that I neglected to think that you might have some goals and needs of your own."

Jess felt tears well in her eyes. 

"And when you let me know you had other plans, I was enraged. All I wanted was for us to be together, for us to have a life together. Build a home. Have kids. Have grandkids. I didn't want you to work, I didn't want you to have to want for anything. I wanted to take care of you. But when we fought that night, and I found out you wanted a career and a job and wasn't ready for kids and weren't ready to settle down..." Jon paused, and Jessica thought he might cry. "I was crushed. So I figured I'd find someone who wanted those things. So I did. And I left."

Jessica felt tears slip from her lids, her mouth hanging at his confession.

"The day I left, I watched you through my rearview mirror, waiting for you to run behind me, calling me back. I thought it might've jarred something inside of you. But it didn't. I watched until I couldn't see you anymore, but still I hoped. The reality set it that you weren't coming after me, and I'd've been damned if I was going back.

"I'm back in town. I know I hurt you, I know I wronged you. I know you probably don't want anything to do with me. But I've missed you. You probably don't believe me, but I've thought about you every day since then. When I married Maggie, I wished it was you. I wished it was you that wanted the things I had to offer. Her and I made a pretty good pair, but it didn't feel right. It didn't have the same appeal as you and I did." 

Jon looked up into her eyes and finished his speech. "I don't know if you're seeing anybody, I don't know you anymore, but dammit, I want to. I want to get to know you all over again, and I want us to be friends. If nothing else, I need your friendship. I'll do whatever it takes to get you to smile at me and mean it. For it to reach those pretty green eyes of yours. Are you interested?"

Jessica gasped. She couldn't hardly see him through her tears. Jon, her first love, her only love, was back in town, divorced, and wanted to get to know her again. She was overjoyed. But knew there was a lot of ground to cover.

"Jon.... Eight years is a long time. People change. Things change. I don't know if we'd be as good together as we used to be. We're both different... I don't know.. I just.. I don't know." Jessica was beside herself with emotion.

Jon stepped forward, his fingers brushing her tears away. Jessica shut her eyes, taking a deep, shuddering breath. His fingers moved to her jaw, and he tipped her head up to him.

"Look at me, Jay. Open those pretty eyes."

Jessica did as she was told. 

"Tell me its worth a try. Tell me that you're the slightest bit interested. That's all I want right now. I'm not proposing marriage, and I'm not saying we should call ourselves boyfriend and girlfriend. Just a trial period, to get to know each other again. Please Jay, tell me it's worth a shot." Jon's voice took on a ragged edge, and he sucked in his breath, waiting for her answer.

Jessica's eyes flittered back and forth, searching his. For what, she didn't know, but she did know she was interested. She wanted Jon to be in her life. No matter what the status, she needed him to be.

"I'm interested." Jessica's words squeaked out.

Jon's mouth swooped down on hers, and he crushed her against his chest. Jessica felt dizzy. His familiar mouth teasing hers; his tongue tasting hers. She never wanted it to end, but it was too soon. The emotions were too raw. 

"Stop." It came out a whisper against his mouth, barely convincing.

Jon groaned and dragged his lips from hers. "You're right."

"I know. Ain't I always?" Jessica smiled for the first time, and Jon felt it deep in his stomach.

"Of course." Jon stepped away, putting some distance between them.

"Where are you staying?" Jessica tried to change the subject, surprised at how a single kiss could have affected her so much.

"With my parents until I find a place of my own. I'm going to start that search tomorrow."

"There are some apartments available here." Jessica cringed inwardly. Why had she said that? 

"Darlin', that's mighty interesting." Jon grinned and raked his hair back off his forehead.

Jessica looked around and realized she'd set her coffee down at some point. Picking up the mug, she took another drink, trying to calm her nerves.

"Well, I better get out of here." Jon looked like that was the last thing he wanted to do.

"Yeah, I better get back to cleaning."

"Yeah." Jon hesitated, not ready to leave her presence he'd longed for so long.

"Okay then... well... it was good to see you. I'm sure we'll see more of each other now that.. Well, now." Jessica flushed as she stumbled through the sentence.

"Yes, we will." Jon placed his coffee cup on the table, and straightened.

"I- it was good to see you." Jessica took a few steps forward and laid her hand along his cheek.

"You too. More than you know." Jon put his hand on her hip, and leaned in. He pressed a brief, chaste kiss on her lips, and spun quickly, heading for the door. 

"See you." Jessica's hand had lifted to her mouth, as if she was holding the feeling of his lips.

"Not if I see you first." Jon stepped through the door, and it shut quietly behind him.

"Oh my god." Jessica dropped onto the couch and stared at the doorframe.

~*~*~

Jess hummed happily as she set the table. Six months had passed, each one getting better than the last. She and Jon were seeing each other every day, having coffee, going on dates. They had gotten to know each other again, and they both liked what they saw. In fact, Jessica liked him more now than she did then. The thought made her giggle. They hadn't upgraded into any kind of serious relationship, though they did hold hands and hug, and kiss. And those kisses... she shivered at the thought.

Jon was due to arrive any minute, and seeing how he lived only a few doors down, she didn't have much time. Jessica went to the mirror, fluffing her hair. She made sure her make up was in place, and she blew a kiss to herself, giggling as she did so.

He had matured. When he first showed up at her door, his speech still seemed practiced, but she figured it was worth a shot, to see if he'd really changed. And in the past months, she realized he had. They'd fallen into a comfortable friendship, and Jessica had decided she wanted more. And tonight was the night she'd tell Jon that.

She had just headed for the kitchen when there was a knock at the door. It was unlocked, so she yelled for him to come in.

Jess was standing at the stove, dishing the spaghetti sauce into a serving bowl, when a rose appeared in her vision, and the smell of Jon's cologne drifted into her nose. She smiled and took the rose, intending to turn around to greet him.

Jon's arms moved and clasped at her hips, holding her still, and he nuzzled her neck. Jessica smiled and leaned back against him, relishing the feel of his warmth.

"Good evening gorgeous." 

"Hello handsome." 

"That smells good." Jon reached and brushed her hair away from her neck, placing gentle kisses along her throat.

"So do you." Jess tipped her head back, welcoming his attentions.

Jon lifted his head, his hand gently urging her to turn. She did, and her arms came up to rest around his neck. Jess leaned in against him, and he wrapped his arms around her waist. 

"Thank you." Jon leaned in slightly, his lips brushing across hers in a hello kiss.

"You're more than welcome." Jessica's hand moved to trace his jaw, bringing his face closer to hers for a proper kiss.

Once they were satisfied with their reunion, Jon stepped back, looking for a vase for the rose, and Jessica turned to the stove once again, finishing what she was doing. 

The couple found themselves seated at the table, enjoying the meal and the conversation. They mostly discussed their individual days, then plans for that coming weekend. Once the meal was finished, Jon started to clear the dishes, but Jessica caught his hand.

"Later."

"Okay. I'll get the coffee."

They retired to the living room with coffee mugs in tow, settling onto the couch with the television playing quietly in the background.

Jessica decided to jump in feet first.

"Jon, we need to talk."

His coffee cup clattered onto the table. "Jay?"

"This isn't easy for me, so I'm going to come right out and say it." Jess took a deep breath.

"Don't. Just don't. Save the speech. Jay, I thought we were doing great! Hell, I thought- You're laughing. Why are you laughing?"

"I am so sorry! I could have put that in less dire sounding terms. Jon, relax." Jessica smiled and scooted next to him, grabbing his hands. Her eyes still twinkled with mirth.

"Don't smile. My heart is stuck in my ass." Jon chuckled in spite himself.

"Jon, do be serious." Jess kissed his cheek. 

"Okay. I am serious." 

"I am in love with you. I don't think I ever stopped being in love with you. But it's better this time. I like you more than I used to. You've changed, you've grown, you've matured. You're more than I ever expected you to be. I know we aren't officially a couple, but I want to be."

"Jay! You're serious?"

"I am. Do you need a piece of paper so you can circle yes or no?"

"No. But I can't tell you how glad I am for you to say that."

"Good. Now. Part two."

"Uh-oh." Jon swallowed hard.

"I want you. I want you to move in. I want you to sleep with me."

"Wow, that's a lot to throw at a guy."

Jessica started. That wasn't the response she was expecting. 

Jon grinned, then launched himself at her, pushing her down onto the couch. "Are you going to buy me a diamond?"

"If you're a very good boy I might." 

"This has all been very backwards. You were kind of manly just then. I feel emasculated." Jon laughed.

"You don't feel emasculated to me." Jessica lifted her hips against him knowingly.

"Hmm, come to think of it, you're absolutely right." He smiled, then his face grew serious once more. "Are you sure?"

Jessica reached up and cupped his face in her hands, and held his gaze.

"I have never been more sure of anything in my life."

Jon's lips came down on hers, searching, molding. It was tender and exploring. His tongue swept across her lips and they parted. She drew his tongue into her mouth and rubbed her own against it. It was slow, leisurely. They didn't have to hurry. They had forever.

Jon settled himself more firmly between her legs, and Jessica hiked her knees up, opening herself to him. His hand moved up and brushed her hair back from her face, then rested on her neck. He could feel the beat of her pulse with his thumb, and it almost met the speed of his own. 

"Touch me Jon.." Jessica's back arched as she pressed her hips up into him.

Jon, Jon and his wonderful fingers. His hand slid down and brushed across her breast. She gasped, and her nipple hardened under his fingertips. He trailed slow lazy circles around it, then moved over to undo the buttons of her shirt. Once undone, he unsnapped the front clasp of her bra, and he leaned back so he could enjoy the view.

"God, Jay, I have waited for this for years." He scooted down and took one nipple into his mouth. It was already hard, but he pulled back and blew on it lightly. Jessica shivered, a small moan escaping her lips. He moved on to the other side and gave that one the same attentions. 

Jessica swept her hands down the muscles of his back, then back up his sides. Her hips wriggled beneath him, feeling how hard he was through the layers of their jeans. She wanted more. Reaching down, she tried to unfasten his pants, but their hips were too close. 

"Let's go to the bedroom. I need room to work." Jessica smiled and pushed up against him. 

Jon stood, then helped her up. Once in the bedroom, she stopped at the edge of the bed and turned to face him. Her hair was tousled, her shirt undone, her breasts swaying free. Jon thought she'd never looked more beautiful.

He stopped in front of her and her hands went for his pants. Once undone, he helped her slide them down his legs. Then down his boxers went. When he straightened, Jessica's eyes grew wide. He was larger than she remembered. Jon chuckled, and reached for her jeans.

"I think you're overdressed."

"Says the man still wearing his shirt." 

Jon paused and stripped the rest of the way down. 

Jessica pushed her jeans down her legs, and her thong followed soon after. She let her shirt and bra fall off her arms.

For a moment the pair just stared at each other. Then Jon dropped to his knees in front of her, lifting one of her legs over his shoulder. Jessica reached down and balanced herself with his other shoulder. She gasped as she felt his tongue lap along her inner thigh. He placed light kisses up her leg until he came to the center of her. The tip of his tongue traced along the seam of her lips, then plundered in deeply. Jessica whimpered as her body shook. 

Jon lifted his hands to her hips to steady her, and he let his tongue seek out, then find her clit. His lips sealed around it, and he sucked, flicking his tongue across it. Jessica's knees almost buckled. She was already wet, but at this attention she felt a whole new rush of moisture. When she felt his fingers gently probing entrance, her whole body quivered. 

"Jon, that's enough.. I need.."

He gave her clit a graze with his teeth and she whimpered again. 

"You need what?" His tongue lapped out to drink in her essence.

"You.. God, Jon... please.."

Jon pulled back and set her leg back down. She turned and crawled up onto the bed on shaking limbs. He crawled up right behind her.

"How do you want me?" Jessica's body was thrumming with unfulfilled want.

"On your back."

She rolled over and he came up between her legs. He caught her under her thighs, and pushed them back so they were almost level with her shoulders. His cock was at her entrance, gently probing. Jessica's hips writhed and pushed, trying to get him inside of her. A startled yelp escaped as he thrust his hips and embedded himself fully on the first stroke. It didn't hurt, but she felt him hit her womb. 

"Oh my god.. Yes.. Jon.." 

Jon set the rhythm. He kept it shallow for a time, then started pulling out farther. She clamped her muscles around him each time he withdrew and Jon moaned. He shoved her legs up higher, and she tilted her hips so he hit bottom each time. Jon started moving faster. He could feel it building, and it wasn't going to last much longer. He released one of her legs and moved his hand to her pussy. Spreading her wetness up, his fingers slipped over her clit. Jessica's head tossed restlessly on the pillow, and her hands tangled in the sheets. 

"Come on baby.." Jon's fingers pulsed against her clit, then rubbed circles. His hips thrust faster. He wasn't going to cum without her. He didn't have long to wait. Her back arched as she moaned, her hips jerking up against his frantically. Her pussy clasped around him, quivering. Jon groaned and gave a few last pumps with his hips, gasping at the force of his orgasm. The entire time he came, Jessica's muscles clamped and released, milking every last drop from him.


Apologies to the Sitter



NOTE: I hope you enjoy my stories. I live for feedback. Please let me know privately or publicly what you think. Feedback inspires me to write more.

*****

It all began when I happened to be out of town on business. While out with colleagues for the obligatory cocktail after a long day of mindless seminars, I received a text from my wife, Cynthia, that I should call her as soon as I was alone.

I knew that she, being a high powered attorney in her own right, had had a function that night with some clients that she had desperately wanted me to attend. The client was very wealthy, and apparently a bit handsy, but there was little she could say about it if she wanted to keep the account. Of course I would have given her permission to fuck him, if she had wanted to, but he was too old and too creepy and she wanted nothing to do with him. 

When I explained that I was unable to play knight in shining armor, I advised her to explain the situation to a colleague, and let him run interference. I figured the text was signaling her desire to tell me about the evening. IF it had been urgent, she wouldn't have implied for me to wait until I was alone. I wondered if her colleague had tried something, I knew Cynthia had a crush on him, but I made it a policy to not allow her to play with men she worked with. It gets complicated if you mix your relationships.

What no one would likely guess is that Cynthia, behind the six figure job and the austere business dress, was completely and utterly submissive to me sexually. We had come to a point, after 10 years of marriage, that she was not allowed to masturbate herself to orgasm unless I was present and had given her permission to do so. Before the birth of our only child, it was not uncommon for Cynthia to spend the entire weekend in nothing but a corset and heels, ready to be used in whatever way I had imagined.

On a few occasions I had introduced her to clients as a prepaid whore for their pleasure. They never guessed she was my wife, or if they did they were too busy fucking her perfect frame to care. She was taller, about 5'9" with light brown hair that hung straight, just past her shoulders. When we met she was playing tennis in college, but after having a child, her athletic figure gave way to a bit softer curves, and now she sported C cup breasts with hips that gave her a bit of an hourglass shape.

With a kid we had toned it down a bit. But after bedtime, out came the submissive in Cynthia. This weekend I had instructed her that she was supposed to touch herself every night for no more than 10 minutes, but under no circumstance was she allowed to cum. If she came while I was away, there would be consequences.

I finished my drink and politely said goodnight to my colleagues, as I stepped off the elevator on my room's floor, I called her. "Hey Cyn, what's going on?" 

"Oh John," she began, "I've been bad, I tried to obey, but I just... couldn't... help myself."

I smirked as I imagined the possibilities. With her event tonight, being out, drinking, there's no telling what had happened. I remained stoic as I said, "Go on."

"It's all Maggie's fault." She said.

Now back in my hotel room, I thought to myself, "Now that is interesting." Maggie was our sitter. She lived next door and was just a kid when we moved in. In the time we've been there she blossomed into quite a young woman. I wouldn't say beautiful, exactly, though you could. A better word would be cute. Even at 18 she was only 5'2" and couldn't be more than 100 lbs. She had inherited her mother's classic Irish features, curly red hair, clear blue eyes, and a near button for a nose that scrunched up in a darling way when she was angry. Of course she had also inherited a bit of a temper, and in younger days often found herself taking refuge at our house after a fight with her parents. 

Maggie had just graduated from high school and saving up to college in the fall, so we always asked her to sit for us. Our boy loved her, and who wouldn't? But aside from a stray thought here or there, we never thought of her as much more than the kid next door.

That changed when my wife explained how "it" was all "Maggie's fault."

Cynthia's client meeting had been uneventful, mostly because the client wasn't feeling well, which ended the evening early. Instead of arriving home well after eleven as she had informed Maggie to expect, Cynthia found herself returning home a little after nine. 

Finding the living room deserted, Cynthia crept upstairs expecting Maggie to be dealing with a fussy toddler. But no, the toddler was sound asleep. Not wanting to wake our child, Cynthia continued quietly back downstairs expecting Maggie to be finishing in the bathroom. 

When she returned downstairs, however, the bathroom door was open and dark. Just as Cynthia began to worry that something had happened, she heard a a noise down the hallway and noticed the light to the master bedroom was on.

Still being quiet out of habit for no other reason, Cynthia called out in a hushed voice, "Maggie? Is that..?" but the sight in front her struck Cynthia dumb.

There on our bed was our babysitter, Maggie, lying flat on her back, knees up, pleated skirt fallen back on her waist. Her thighs were splayed wide, revealing both her cotton panties and the fact that her right hand was buried inside of them, furiously rubbing her young cunt. 

Her head was pressed back into our pillows, blue eyes shut tight, soft pink mouth open and panting. If she hadn't heard Cynthia, it was because she was speaking aloud to her imagined lover, "Fuck me, fuck this tight young cunt. Much tighter than your slut wife's. Come on give it to me, Mr. Richards."

Of course, I am likely the "Mr. Richards" in questions, and the revelation that little Maggie fantasized about me fucking her had my cock hard. 

My wife described this scene and then told me, "John, you should have seen her. Oh God John, she was so soft and sweet, but those things coming out of her mouth." she paused, "they were so... filthy."

"Indeed," I smiled, "It seems our Maggie is all grown up. So what did you do?"

"Well I couldn't help it," Cynthia started again, "When I heard her say your name I just cried out 'Maggie!' in a bit of shock. She immediately shot up, her eyes went wide, and she looked terrified. I tried to gather my thoughts and say something, but watching her and made my throat go dry."

"She must have been terrified," I added. "Were you able to speak to her?"

"She jumped up and out of the room so quickly, I almost had to run to follow her to the front door," my wife explained. "All I could say was something like, 'Were you talking about me and John?' but I'm afraid she just collapsed into herself, grabbed her bag and said, 'I'm sorry, I should go.' And before I could stop her, she was gone."

"Poor girl," I added sympathetically. It really is terrifying to be caught masturbating, but in someone else's house, thinking about them, that would be shattering.

I suddenly remembered how my wife had started the conversation. "So what exactly was Maggie's fault?"

"Well," my wife began, "A little shell shocked by the speed of the situation, I went back to our bedroom and sat on the bed. I noticed that it wasn't just that she was getting off on our bed while thinking of you. She discovered our trunk."

Our trunk. The place where we kept all of our sexual devices and BDSM accoutrements. Maggie had apparently been snooping in our room and found our stash of vibrators, handcuffs, riding crops, whips, and paddles. Apparently one of the crops was laying on the bed as if Maggie had been using it on herself.

"I know you told me not to cum while you were away," Cynthia continued, "but when I found the crop on the bed, my mind went back to Maggie's milky white thighs stretched wide, and how intently her hand moved under her panties."

Cynthia sighed into the phone as I began to stroke my cock.

"John, I just couldn't help thinking about how she had used one of our toys, maybe more, on her tight little body. And as I touched myself I began to imagine what it would look like for your thick cock to stretch her tight cunt as she said all those filthy things."

My wife was whining again into the phone, obviously rubbing her clit as my own cock swelled from my attention. She continued, "I imagined you making me watch as you fucked her. You do want to fuck her don't you, sir?"

My wife had slipped into her submissive role, and I was eager to answer, "Who I fuck is my business, slut."

"Yes sir," whined, "Of course sir, but she's so small compared to me. I bet what she says is true. I bet her cunt would be so tight on your cock that it would perverse to watch you fill her."

My own hand was moving quickly now, breathing becoming heavy as I tried to imagine what my wife had witnessed. Cynthia said, "As I thought all these things, I just had to cum, sir. I just had to. And I'm going to again." Her breathing became sharp and she let out several high pitched squeals as she came into the phone. The sound of her breaking the rules, the image of our sitter Maggie on our bed, and thoughts of things to come were too much for me and I released my cum right along with her.

"Cynthia, sweetheart," I said softly into the phone. "You will need to be punished for violating my rules."

"Yes sir, I know." She said still panting heavily from her orgasm.

"And I certainly hope you didn't ruin our relationship with Maggie by chasing her off."

"I know sir," she said, "Should I do anything?"

"No, not yet," I told her. "I'll be home tomorrow afternoon, and I hope I can take care of it. I think part of your punishment will necessarily be making a proper apology to young Maggie."

"Yes sir," she agreed, "Whatever you think is best sir."

When my plane landed the next day, I sent a text to Maggie. I figured a phone call may be a bit too aggressive and I didn't mean to scare her off. A text allows for a kind of distance, the recipient can take time to consider it, muster words and confidence, before responding. A phone call under such circumstances might come off as intimidating, and what I wanted was to be inviting.

My text read, "Spoke with Cynthia last night. Don't worry, but I think we should have a talk. Come by the house at 9 tonight."

Notice that I didn't ask if she would come, but I told her to come. While not everyone is a true submissive, most people are eager to do what they're told. If you ask a question, however, like "Can you come over?" then you open yourself to the wrong answer.

Sure enough, Maggie texted back after about 10 minutes. "Okay, I'll come."

When I arrived home, I told Cynthia what I had planned, and what I expected of her. There was, as I expected, some resistance.

"Oh John, please don't make me do that." We were alone in our bedroom. I remained silently holding her gaze. As with Maggie's invitation, I hadn't asked, I had ordered. Cynthia hesitated searching my face for a sign of weakness.

She continued, "But she's just a kid really, you can't know how she'll react. I mean, what if she freaks out and tells the whole neighborhood?" I remained silently intent.

Finally, "Okay, John, I'll be a good girl. I'll do as I'm told."

I smiled and kissed her forehead. "That's my girl. As soon as the little guy is down, I expect you to get changed. Stay in the bedroom until I call for you."

Around 10 minutes to 9, I poured myself a scotch and took a seat in our living room. I decided a certain air of authority was necessary for the evening so I had dressed in slacks and a dress shirt. I was wearing a grey sports coat, but no tie. A tie would have been too restricting, too unwelcoming, too severe. 

I could guess Maggie's mind based on how long I would have to wait. If she arrives early, that would make her eager to see me, late and it meant she was fearful and dreading the encounter. If she turned up right on time, then I knew she was trying to impress with punctuality, overly conscious of details.

No sooner had the grandfather clock in our foyer began to chime the hour did the doorbell ring. I smiled to myself. Control is about paying attention to details. I was beginning to form a picture of Maggie's personality. Of course I had known her for years, but I had never considered what she was to be trained as a Dom or a sub, I had never considered her that way at all. 

I opened the door and she stood in front of me. For the evening she had chosen a flowered sundress that fit her frame well. It was nice, but not overly formal. I was glad she had chosen not to where jeans and a t shirt. Her legs and arm were bare, her red curls hung down to her shoulders. She bit her lower lip apprehensively.

"Ahh, Maggie, welcome," I stood aside and motioned her in. "I'm so glad you could come by, let's have a seat in the living room."

She glanced around as she moved to the sofa. Taking a seat on the edge of the cushion, she sat demurely, her bare knees held together as her dress rode up, but she crossed her ankles and folded her hands in her lap.

I followed her in, held up my glass of scotch and rattled the ice ever so slightly. "Can I get you a drink?"

"I'm only 18," she replied shyly.

"Yes," I nodded, "but I think we're all adults here. Don't you?"

She nodded, "I'll just have water, though."

"Suit yourself." I refreshed my drink and noticed her glancing around.

"Is Mrs. Richards here?" She asked trying to peer down the long hall to our bedroom.

I smiled softly, "Yes, she'll join us in a moment." I took a sip of my scotch as her eyes looked everywhere but at me.

"I hear you two had quite the encounter the other day," I said.

"Oh god," she buried her face in her hands, "I'm so sorry, please don't tell my parents."

"What?" I acted surprised, "No, not at all. In fact it's Cynthia who should be apologizing to you." She looked at me confused. "You were in the middle of a private moment, Maggie, she had no right to disturb you like that."

"But I was in your bedroom," she sounded shocked, making the case against herself.

"We've never told you not to go in there," I paused, "I'm pretty sure we told you to make yourself at home."

"But I..." her voice trailed to a whisper, "I was looking through your... your..."

"Our trunk?" I chuckled at her discomfort. "Yes, I suppose I might be upset by that, but truth is I'm proud of your curiosity. When we first had you sit for us a couple of years ago, Cynthia and I would laugh about all the horrible secrets you might find snooping around our house when we were gone."

She was trying to process this, so I continued, "When I was young and left alone in my house, of course I snooped. What I learned from the back of my father's closet was quite eye opening. Such curiosity is..." I trailed off looking for the right words, "A rite of passage. Curiosity is how we learn. Curiosity is how we grow."

By now she was staring at me intently, she had begun chewing on her fingernail as she studied me and the conversation.

"Maggie," I started again, "I called you over because I wanted to let you know that everything was alright." She relaxed a little. "But I also called you over because I was curious."

She tensed again, she almost whispered, "About what?"

"Well Cynthia told me that the only item removed from the trunk was a single paddle. She found it lying in the middle of the bed. I wanted to know why you chose that item."

"Um," she hesitated, "I don't know."

"Yes you do," I countered. "Was it because you liked the idea of having it used on you?"

"No!" She blurted out despite herself. "I think I should go."

I sat back, "You can leave if you like, but it seems only fair that since you know so much about us, that we might know something about you."

"Oh," was her reply. She fidgeted in her seat. I wondered about the internal struggle between embarrassment and curiosity, between horror and desire. She stayed seated, so I could guess which was winning.

"Well," she said nervously, "I like the paddle because I like the idea of it."

"Which idea?" I asked, "Having it used on you, or you using it on someone else."

She blushed, "Um, no. I like the idea of you using it on Mrs. Richards."

I'll admit, that surprised me a little, it must have showed in y face because Maggie turned an even deeper shade of red. I smiled and asked, "Why is that?"

"I don't know," she began as teenagers often begin, but I calmly sipped my drink knowing the rest would come to fill the uncomfortable silence of waiting. "She seems so cold sometimes, so bossy, I hear her on the phone, the way she talks to people." She paused a moment, "I mean, she's always nice to me, but sometimes she seems like such a bitch."

I laughed, "Sometimes I suppose she is."

She immediately backtracked, "I mean I like her and all. She's always nice to me, but she's not always nice to you." She trailed off, "She should be nicer to you."

I smiled warmly, "Maggie, not all relationships are as they appear." I stood up and held my hand out to her. "Come, I want to show you something."

She took my hand and I guided her down the hall toward our bedroom. When she saw where we were going she hesitated a moment.

"Don't worry, Maggie," I said, "We're going to see Mrs. Richards. She has something she'd like to say to you, and then you are free to leave."

I opened the door to the bedroom and there, on her knees with head bowed, was Cynthia. She was dressed in a black leather corset with a garter belt and stockings. Around her neck has a cherry red choker. Her lips were painted to match. 

Maggie dropped my hand and stood stunned, taking in the sight. I walked over to Cynthia and stood beside her, rested my hand on her shoulder and explained, "You see, Maggie, Cynthia's powerful persona is just a façade. In reality she is an eager little submissive slut, aching for instruction. Isn't that right, slut?"

Cynthia kept her head down but spoke softly, "Yes sir."

Maggie moved forward in awe of the sight. She leaned over a little, trying to catch Cynthia's downward turned eyes. Maggie asked, "And she'll do whatever you tell her to do?"

"Mostly," I replied, "and when she disobeys, she gets punished. Right now she has something to say to you."

On cue, Cynthia spoke, "I'm sorry for interrupting you the other day, Maggie. It was very rude of me."

Maggie smiled at me, it was a smile reminiscent of a kid who had just opened a wondrous toy at Christmas but couldn't believe it was actually theirs. Ignoring Cynthia's apology, Maggie asked, "And she'll stay like that until you tell her otherwise?"

"She should," I replied, "But it is more fun to make her move."

Maggie stepped toward Cynthia and almost circled her, surveying her. More hesitantly Maggie asked, "Has she been punished for interrupting me?"

"Not yet," I said flatly, "Do you think she should be?" I felt Cynthia's shoulder tense under my touch. But she kept her eyes down like a well-trained slut.

"Oh yes," Maggie said, almost licking her lips. "And I want to watch."

Instantly I said, "On your feet slut, assume the position." 

Obediently, Cynthia stood and moved to the foot of the bed. She bent at the waist, clutching the oaken footboard of our marital bed with her hands. She slightly parted her legs. Cynthia knew just how to present herself for punishment, allowing a slight dip in her back in order to best accentuate the round fullness of her bare ass.

I could see from her exposed shaven cunt that Cynthia, despite her trepidations was already wet. I walked behind her and roughly cupped her sex, forcing my palm into her. Immediately she began grinding herself against my hand.

"You're quite wet slut, does the thought of young Maggie watching you be punished turn you on?" Maggie stood to the side, eagerly waiting for an answer. I knew Cynthia would be honest, and I knew the answer would serve her humiliation.




Apologies to the Sitter



"Yes sir," Cynthia almost moaned as she pushed wantonly against my firm hand.

Maggie gasped a little. "Oh my," escaped her lips, "I had no idea what a slut she is."

Cynthia's body shuddered at Maggie's words. Fearing she might cum too soon, I removed my hand and smacked the soft pale flesh of her ass hard as I walked away. "Not yet, slut," I said, "Not until everyone else is pleased."

Maggie's eyes darted to me, "Everyone? Even me?" Her breathing was shallow overcome with the idea.

"If you like," I said nonchalantly, "but like I said, you can leave whenever you wish." I paused, "Would you like to leave?"

"Oh no sir, I'd like to stay." Maggie said. I suppose Cynthia's submissive tone had rubbed off a little on Maggie, but also Maggie usually called me sir, or Mr. Richards, having been raised properly by her parents.

Walking over to the open trunk I gave Maggie a little tour. "This," I began, "Is a basic cat-o-nine-tails, as you can see, it's a basic whip. Used properly it tends to tear at the flesh. How deeply depends on how skilled you are." Offering it to her, she took it by the handle and weighed it in her hand.

"Next is the school master's paddle. You're familiar with it, I know. It's solid wood with holes drilled in it." I looked at her, very much liking playing the role of teacher. "Do you know why there are holes drilled in it?" I handed it to her. It looked heavy in her delicate hand.

"So you can swing it faster through the air and smack her harder." Bright girl, that Maggie.

Reaching into the closet I pulled out a rod of bamboo. "And this is a cane. Small and light, but used properly it will punish better than the other two."

Maggie swung it through the air a few times, making a whistling sound that I could see caused Cynthia to shiver. When I used the cane, it was usually several days before the feeling faded completely in Cynthia's ass.

"Today," I took the lead of course, "I think I'll start with the paddle." Maggie looked disappointed as she fingered the cane in her hand, but she nodded obediently.

Standing back behind Cynthia, I lightly rubbed the paddle against her exposed ass. In a cold voice I said, "Count!" And with that I brought the paddle down hard making the flesh of her ass ripple as a smack filled the air. 

Cynthia grunted out, "One" I brought the paddle down again. I knew it stung ads Cynthia made a slight intake of breath, sucking in through her teeth and forced out "Two."

Maggie walked around behind me, intently watching Cynthia as the woman, almost 15 years older than her, took the punishment. Maggie's small hand lingered on my back as she peered around my left, more interested in Cynthia's facial reactions than her reddening ass.

In rapid succession I brought the paddle down thrice more. And Cynthia called out, "Three, ah, Four... oh god, Fiiiiiiiivvvveee." The last turning into a prolonged wail of pain and pleasure.

I glanced over my shoulder at Maggie who had moved to the corner post of the foot board and was leaning over, mesmerized by the anguished look on Cynthia's face. There was a sheen of sweat on the young red head, her eyes were wide and her hand had travelled down to the edge of her sundress. I could tell she was fighting the urge to touch herself.

"Look at Maggie, slut," I ordered. "Tell her you're sorry again. Tell her she can touch herself in our house whenever she wants."

Through lidded eyes, Cynthia spoke with labored breath, "I'm sorry, Maggie, You can touch yourself if you like."

I brought down the paddle again and Cynthia's body shuddered as her face winced. "Six," she whimpered as she breathed hard not to cry out. 

"Would you like to try, Maggie?" I offered her the paddle, "After all you're the reason she's here."

Cynthia's head shot around and looked in wide eyed astonishment at my offer. Immediately I brought the paddle down on her ass again, harder than before. "Eyes front slut." Cynthia muted a cry into her bare arm as Maggie took the paddle. 

The petite read head looked hesitantly at me, and I nodded. She then focused intent on Cynthia's already purplish ass, like a predator with its prey. Her slender arm seemed to muster all the force she could as she brought the paddle down hard on Cynthia's ass. 

Cynthia cried out and fell forward over the footboard of the bed, her mouth agape as it landed on the sheets, muffling her cry of anguish. Truth be told, I was proud of Cynthia for taking such a blow, the girl had yet to learn the delicate art of building tolerance and mixing pleasure and pain.

Already Maggie's arm flew back to land a second blow but I grabbed her wrist to stop her. Her head turned towards me, eyes wild with lust and a touch of anger for being interrupted.

"You have to learn control, Maggie," I said gently, "Punishing a disobedient slut is an art. Too much too fast and you will lose the obedience just as surely as if you do too little too late." I removed the paddle from her hand, and guided her now bare hand down to Cynthia's reeling ass. 

Moving her palm in a gentle circle I said, "You see Maggie, you must reward a slut who takes great punishment, sooth her, this helps prepare her for the next blow." I handed the paddle back to the young woman. Now try again, easier this time.

Bringing the paddle down with only a fraction of the force of her first blow, I heard Cynthia wince, but ever obedient, she said, "eight."

Maggie smiled up at me and I nodded. I moved to the foot of the mattress, leaning over and getting close to Cynthia's face. Maggie brought the paddle down again.

"I think we may have found you a new mistress, slut," I taunted. "What do you think?"

"Yes sir," Cynthia breathed, "Whatever you wish sir."

Maggie brought the paddle down again. I heard the smack and saw Cynthia close her eyes tight. I continued, "I bet you can't wait to help her finish what you interrupted the other day, Can you slut?"

I noticed Maggie's attention shift to me. Cynthia said, "Whatever you wish, sir."

"No, Cynthia," I said, looking straight at Maggie, "it's whatever Maggie wishes. Maggie would you like this slut to help you reach orgasm."

Maggie's mouth was parted as she very slightly nodded her head, almost afraid of her own desire.

"Come," I said to Maggie, "Sit up on the bed." She did as she was told, not overly eager, but neither did she hesitate. "Now tell your slut to come over to you."

Maggie looked at Cynthia who was still gripping the footboard recovering from her paddling. "Come here slut." She said simply. Cynthia stood and began to move toward the side of the bed where Maggie sat.

I asked, "Do you want her to walk?"

Instantly Maggie understood. "Crawl to me slut." I smiled and nodded my approval to Maggie as Cynthia dropped to her hands and knees with a simple and quiet, "Yes, ma'am."

It was quite a sight. Cynthia kneeled in front of Maggie as the younger more petite girl's knees were at my wife's eye level. My cock was already hard in anticipation of what was to happen next. I told Maggie, "Tell her what you'd like her to do."

Maggie was a little confused. I figured it wasn't likely she'd been in this position before. She might have been afraid of coming off as a lesbian or who knows. Maybe she was shy. I was about to step in and offer advice when I heard Maggie speak.

"I want you to lick me, Mrs. Richards. Lick my cunt and make me ready," Maggie's eyes shot to me, "For your husband to fuck me."

Needless to say I was a little surprised at how quickly Maggie took to command. Cynthia's eyes shot to me, it wasn't clear the effect it had on her. In all of our games, despite being more or less open in our marriage, she had never seen me fuck another woman, let alone the 18 year old next door neighbor. And she had certainly never helped prepare me for it.

I looked at Cynthia and smiled softly, "You heard her slut. Or do I need to get the cane?" Cynthia's eyes shot wide for a second and then she all but scowled at me, but she was a submissive slut through and through and she leaned forward toward Maggie, placed her hands on the young girl's knees and opened her thighs. 

Kissing first one knee and the other, Cynthia slowly pushed the hem of Maggie's sundress up her thighs, exposing the milky white flesh, kissing her way up the inside of one thigh and lightly licking up the other. Finding the red head's pink cotton panties, Cynthia hooked her fingers in them and slowly slid them down Maggie's lithe legs.

Maggie did not shave, but had thin wisps of red hair atop her pussy. I could see her glisten and was envious that Cynthia would be the first of us to taste her.

As Cynthia pressed Maggie's thighs wider, my wife lowered her head between them and covered our sitter's cunt with her mouth. Maggie immediately gasped and through her head back, but she remained in a near sitting position. Her small hands went to Cynthia's hair as she held my submissive wife's mouth against her young cunt and ground herself on her tongue.

I could hear Cynthia's muffled moans as she pleasured Maggie. Maggie, for her part, was panting like she was in heat, Looking straight down her body, I noticed she had locked eyes with my wife as she rocked herself against Cynthia's tongue. 

And then she began speaking.

"That's it you slut. Lick my tight little cunt like the whore you are." Maggie almost snarled, but Cynthia was driven to work harder. "God, and to think I thought you were this big deal, now look at you, licking my little clit so I can be ready for your husband's big cock to slide into me."

The effect of her words was almost like a challenge to Cynthia. Maggie, the Domme, trying to humiliate the old woman licking her cunt, while Cynthia, the sub, tried to wrest what little control she could by shutting the overcoming the younger woman with pleasure. It was a fascinating dynamic. 

Suddenly, Maggie grabbed two fistful of Cynthia's hair and fell back on the bed, having the effect of almost smothering my wife as the red head ground as hard as she could onto my wife's mouth on her way to orgasm. Suddenly her petite body shuddered and Maggie, called out, "Oh Goddddd, I'm cuming on your mouth!"

Just as quickly she released a panting Cynthia to fall back on her knees, her makeup smeared, her face shiny with the sitter's juices. Maggie lay shaking on the bed, gasping. I almost moved toward her to hold her through an intense experience, but Maggie, learning the pleasure of control managed to say, "Now get your husband's cock hard, slut. I want it inside me."

As if in a daze, Cynthia reached up and unzipped my pants, freeing my already erect cock. Without hesitation she took my cock into her glistening mouth, working me over, sliding her tongue along me with a fervor I hadn't felt in a while. Was it knowing that it was destined for Maggie's tight cunt that had her so eager? Did she enjoy this game that much? Or was she just that submissive?

As Maggie recovered she crawled toward us on the bed, laying on her stomach, watching with awe as my wife working my cock between her still cherry red lips. 

"Is she good at that too?" Maggie asked, reaching out to pet my wife's hair as she sucked me harder than I could remember being.

"Yes," I managed, "Cyn has always had a talented mouth." I closed my eyes as I began moving my hips in time with her mouth.

Maggie must have noticed this change for she said, "Don't you dare let him cum in your mouth, slut. His cum is for me tonight." I swear to God Cynthia whimpered around my cock when Maggie said that.

I grabbed a handful of Cynthia's hair and roughly pulled her off my cock, "Any more of that and you won't get what you want." I said to Maggie.

Cynthia sat back on her haunches as I removed my clothing. Maggie slid her dress up and over her head revealing a young body, small pert breasts, narrow hips and fair skin. 

"Lay on your back," I instructed. And as she did so I climbed between her legs. Hovering over her, I asked, "Are you a virgin?" But she shook her head no, which was a bit of a relief. 

I rubbed the mushroom head of my engorged cock against her wet slit, teasing her as I readied myself, but she said, "Wait!" And I stopped with a quizzical look on my face. She turned to look at Cynthia who was watching us intently in a mix of disbelief and desire. "Come here slut, and guide your husband into me." This girl thought of everything.

I was a little surprised when Cynthia did as she was told, crawling on the floor to the edge of the bed, her head right at the perfect level to see my cock at Maggie's entrance. Cynthia reached out her hand, took hold of my cock, and rubbed in over the length of Maggie's now drenched slit. Finding the red head's tight opening Cynthia went so far as to push slightly on my ass with her other hand, encouraging me to take our sitter, which I did.

Not without some difficulty, though, for although she was very wet, she was also very tight. I rocked back and forth as I felt her cunt grip every inch of my invading cock. Slowly I made my way into her, small pushes and thrusts, until I filled her.

Maggie whimpered, her head flopping back and forth as I push my way into her. "Oh it's so big... too big... oh god, so good."

I glanced over at Cynthia who watched us intently. She mouthed to me with longing, "Please," and I knew what she meant. When I nodded yes, Cynthia's hand disappeared between her legs.

I stayed buried in Maggie's cunt as she adjusted to the size of me. She breathed heavy, eyes closed. I felt her hips gyrate as she accommodated me. Soon I was making small movements of my own, sliding slowly in and out of her in short thrusts. 

Her moans became more pronounced; suddenly her deep blue eyes shot open and looked squarely into mine. A broad smile on her face, she said, "Oh god I can't believe you're finally inside me, Mr. Richards. I've fantasized for so long." 

Aggressively she then lifted her head up until her forehead pressed against mine. And with an intense demanding look only Irish girls can give, she said, "Now fuck me, Mr. Richards. Fuck me hard like I know you've wanted to." And she motioned her head toward Cynthia keeping her eyes on mine, "And make her watch."

I heard Cynthia squeak at the comment as I began to move my hips in earnest. Long slow strokes at first, but then Maggie urged me on, "Harder, sir, fuck me harder. My tight little pussy can take it." So I fucked her harder, feeling every inch of her as I pounded down, only to have her grip me as I pistoned up.

As I fucked her she leveled abuse on Cynthia, "Oh jesus, he's fucking me so good, I bet he hasn't fucked you like this in years. Amazing what a tight young cunt like mine can do to a man."

For her part Cynthia's hand flew over her clit and she mewled like a neglected kitten, whined at each comment Maggie made. Suddenly I knew what I wanted.

I pulled out of Maggie and told her to get on her hands and knees facing Cynthia, who remained on the floor. I wanted a clear view of my wife getting off as I fucked our young Irish sitter. From my new vantage, I could see my wife's contorted face just over the mop of curly red hair as Cynthia rubbed her clit and tugged on her breasts. I reentered Maggie, gripping her petite waist. As I drove my cock deep into her now stretched cunt she yelped in delight, also watching Cynthia rub herself.

"I'm going to cum soon," I said aloud and Maggie and Cynthia both moaned.

Maggie squealed and panted as I slammed hard into her. "Tell... him... to cum... in me..." she managed to get out between cries of her own.

My wife, watching me fuck our young neighbor instantly said, "Cum in her. Fill her filthy cunt with your spunk. Oh god she's must be so sweet to fuck. Mark her and own her..." And with that my wife collapsed into her own orgasm.

At the sight of my wife shivering as she stared at me fucking another woman, I felt my own orgasm erupt and I slammed violently into Maggie as I began pumping spurt after spurt of white ooze into her young cunt. This in turn triggered her orgasm, and she shuddered and moaned with my cock buried deep inside her.

I collapsed on top of the petite girl, my face in a mound of red curls as I made eye contact with my wife who was still panting. 

"Come here," I said to Cynthia, and she crawled toward us. I kissed my wife deeply over top of Maggie curls, then I said, "Now kiss your new mistress."

Maggie giggled as young girls do and after hesitating, Cynthia fell into a long luxurious kiss with her. 

I rolled off of Maggie's back and looked at her adoring eyes when she had broken the kiss. 

"So," I asked, "Is that, 'apology accepted?'"

"Absolutely." Maggie smiled.



Apologies



He released her other leg and he collapsed onto her. After a few seconds he rolled so that she was on top of him.

"I didn't want to crush you." Jon panted.

"Mmm, this is nice too." Jessica pushed her hair from her eyes. She lay down on his chest and nuzzled his shoulder.

Their heartbeats finally slowed, and Jessica felt him softening, and felt their juices slipping from her. She squeezed him. 

"Oh! God, don't do that." Jon groaned a chuckle.

"I just wanted you to stay longer." Jessica's tongue darted out and lapped at his ear.

"Oh yeah, I'm sure you were being innocent." 

"I was." To demonstrate her point, she rocked her hips against him and squeeze again.

"What- Jess, you're going to start it up again." 

She could already feel him twitching. 

"So?" She nibbled his earlobe, and moved against him, rubbing herself on his chest.

"Jess... a man doesn't even get time to recharge." Jon laughed.

"Mmm, feels plenty recharged to me." She rolled her hips, feeling him hard inside her again.

"You asked for it." With a growl, Jon lunged up and rolled her to her back. His hands pinned her wrists above her head.

"Say uncle." He grinned above her.

"Make love to me." Jessica lifted her hips invitingly.

"If you insist."

~*~*~*~*~

Jessica rolled over, stretching towards Jon's side of the bed. It was empty. And cold. So he had been up for a while. Opening one eye, she spotted him across the room at her desk. He was checking his email. A glance at the clock told her it was a little after ten.

"Why didn't you wake me?" She yawned.

"You looked sweet. I wanted to keep that image as long as I could." Jon grinned.

"Hush. Where's my coffee and breakfast in bed?"

"Sorry sweet cheeks, but that must be your other boyfriend." Jon laughed as he stood. "Actually, coffee I can do." 

As he left the room Jessica sprang from the bed and ran to the bathroom. She ran back in and dove under the covers just as he was walking back in.

"Cheater! You could have gotten it yourself!" Jon acted like he wasn't going to give her the coffee.

"Please! I just had to pee. You couldn't do that for me." Jessica laughed.

"You're right. I lose again." He sat on the edge of the bed and passed her the steaming cup.

"Jay, we need to talk."

"Uh-oh. I know how these conversations go."

"You're beautiful, all sleepy eyed, your hair a mess, your make up smeared.."

"Okay Romeo."

"You are. I love you. I want to see you like this every day..."

Jessica took a sip of her coffee. Or tried..

"..for the rest of my life."

"Sorry.." Jessica stuck out her tongue, her taste buds singed.

Jon wiped the coffee from his face and neck.

"Well, that's not quite how I had it planned."

The couple burst out laughing, and Jess set her coffee on the nightstand to avoid further damage.

"Jon, are you.. You're not.. Are you?"

"Jay, will you marry me, and spit hot coffee on me for the rest of my days?" Jon retrieved a ring box from his robe pocket.

"It would be my pleasure." Jessica smiled. 

"I knew it would." Jon smiled back.



Apologize?



"I am not going to apologize." He was adamant. He refused to apologize. She was not going to convince him that he owed Patsy an apology, neither was he was going to tell her what really happened. She might explode.

"Dad, just call her, alright? She wants you to call. You do not need to use the word, "apology," but you do need to call her. She said you left, just walked out."

"Oh, alright, Mary Ann, I'll talk to her later, but I'm busy right now." He thought if he offered a good enough excuse to his daughter, she would hang up and leave him alone.

Mary Ann wasn't about to let him off the hook that easily. "Do it now," she said persistently. The exasperation in her voice was over and above the command she was issuing. "It will only take one minute, maybe two, and then you can go back to your whatever." 

"Yes, yes, Mary Ann, I will talk to her in a little while. I promise. Is that enough? Can I go back to what I was doing?"

"Yes, Dad," Mary Ann said, finally calming down. "I'm sorry. Thank you. I should have already said that. I'll talk to you later."

Woodson Crossman, or Woody, as most of his friends called him, was busy. He was always busy, or at least he tried to stay that way. When his daughter called, he was trying to finish some research online so he could complete a letter to the editor of the local newspaper. The city workers who collect trash continue to leave his trashcan in the street, causing a hindrance to traffic. When he finished the research, he planned to go back to the woodworking project he started earlier that morning. The bottom fell out of one of the drawers in his kitchen and he was rebuilding the drawer. In addition, he still had some vegetables to gather from his small garden and then he would fix his supper. He wanted to finish the letter after he had eaten.

The vegetables caused the problem. His daughter mentioned that her friend, Patsy, would like some fresh tomatoes. She was tired of the flat tasting ones she buys at the grocery store. Instead of leaving the whole bag of vegetables with his daughter, Woody took half of the tomatoes to Patsy.

Woody was retired, but he was not tired. He was not yet fifty years old. He worked for one company for twenty-five years. He started as a high school student, in the warehouse, and ended up as the Warehouse Manager when he retired. When the recently widowed wife of the owner sold Ceramic Tile Sales and Distribution, Woody took his portion of the employee stock plan in money. He paid off his house and invested the rest, which gave him enough income to do what he wanted, though he didn't consider himself wealthy. However, most of what he wanted to do was putter. That is what his late wife called it. She would tell her friends, "Oh, he's out in his workshop puttering around with something." 

Although Woody was still healthy and active, he began to realize something was missing from his life. He knew what it was, but he was not interested in the offers he received from other single people he knew, or met, and he was tired of his friends trying to set him up with another date. Until a little over a year ago, he and his wife had a satisfying life. Their two grown children were leading lives of their own. Woody and Louise had friends, took vacations, shared some household chores, and still enjoyed sex, although not as often as he would have liked to enjoy it. 

Louise was beginning to have some problems with menopause. She had recently gained some weight and her sex drive was dwindling. Rapidly. To Woody it was frighteningly rapid. He did not realize her depression was so bad. In fact, no one realized it was that bad, not even her doctor. It was apparent that taking a whole bottle of pills and going to sleep was her solution to the depression. 

Woody was still a good-looking man. He was not truly handsome and girls never described him as a hunk. Nevertheless, he was always popular with the ladies. He maintained his weight, stood up straight, and still had most of his hair, but it was about half gray. Oh well, his father was white haired by the time he was fifty, so Woody figured he was ahead of the game. That was the problem, as he saw it. He was healthy, active, no longer needed to work full-time, still had his hair, and was handy around the house. Someone was always calling him for help with a handyman chore. Friends told their friends. Many, or most, of them were women, and he went to their houses to assist with whatever project they had that needed his skills. Those friends, or friends of friends, and other women introduced to him, were the women who wanted him. They cooked lunch or supper and took the food by his house, frequently offering to serve the meal to him. They also invited him to intimate dinners and tried to set him up with dates with their friends. In general, they simply would not leave him alone. Despite all of this attention, Woody didn't want to have anything to do with them. Not a single one. He knew what he wanted, but he also knew he couldn't have it.

Good grief, he had known Patsy all of her life. She and his daughter Mary Ann were inseparable from the day they started school. That's like more than fifteen years ago. When she was eight or nine years old, he fixed her bicycle when she had a flat tire. He drove Patsy and Mary Ann to the movies on Saturday afternoons. He took his own ladder to her house to hang a swing from the big tree in the back yard. She may have been twelve or thirteen years old at the time. 

Now that her mother had remarried, moved in with her new husband, and given the old house to Patsy, Woody had been back to that house on other occasions. One day he replaced the doorknob on her bathroom door. He is no longer Mister Crossman, or Uncle Woody, as her mother instructed her to call him when she was a very small child. He is not her uncle. They aren't even related. She is the daughter of his sister's brother. To Patsy, he has been Woody ever since he helped her build some shelves in the second bedroom, the room she now uses as her office. That was when he explained the reason he was frequently called Uncle Woody. Since then, she has not used the word uncle a single time. However, she is not a little girl any more. She is a woman. 

Considering the way she looks now, he definitely could not help notice the transformation from a child into a woman. Patsy is pretty, well somewhat pretty anyway. She has brown eyes, along with short brown hair, which mostly curls, and the most luscious lips he has ever seen. Her bust is a nice size, at least larger than a double handful. Woody found this out when she sort of mashed herself against him while she was holding one of the shelves in place so he could mark where she wanted it. Although she is not particularly tall, she has the longest legs and she wears the shortest shorts that look like she her body was liquid and poured into them. 

She does some kind of writing, or editing, maybe the word she used was condensing. She spends hours in her office, her fingers flying over her keyboard at a speed, which amazes Woody. She told him she buys a new keyboard almost every year. 

Patsy seldom leaves home, yet she is not particularly a loner. She just seems to prefer her own company. Mary Ann said she has tried to set Patsy up with an occasional date, but Patsy usually turns down Mary Ann's matchmaking efforts. One of the times Patsy gave in, Mary Ann helped her dress for a night on the town. Their preparations included a curling iron, hair spray, and make-up, and finished with Mary Ann lending Patsy a dress. By the time they left Patsy's house, she was wearing high heel shoes, stockings, and looked like a magazine model. Mary Ann said they spent only a few hours in one of the local clubs. The attention Patsy received, from a changing line of men who wanted to buy her a drink or dance with her, frightened her so much she finally pleaded with Mary Ann to take her home.

* * * *

When Woody took the tomatoes to Patsy, she didn't answer the front door, so he walked around the house, thinking she was in the back. Not finding her there, he knocked on the back door but she still didn't respond. However, he heard a radio playing, and figured she was home, so he simply walked inside and stood in the kitchen for a moment, calling her name. Still no response. Placing the tomatoes on the kitchen cabinet Woody went toward the short hall looking for Patsy. He thought that maybe she was in her office on the left side of the hall and didn't hear him because the radio was playing so loud.

Entering her office, Woody was surprised she wasn't there. He was about to call her again but then turned around when he heard her singing along with the song on the radio. He took a couple of steps and looked into the open door of the bathroom.

Oh! My! God! Patsy was sitting on the bathroom countertop with her feet planted on either side of the sink. A mirror was propped on the opposite side of the sink and she was naked from the waist down. She had a pair of scissors in her hand; using them to trim her pubic hair.

Woody wondering if what he was about to say was very smart, simply asked, "Do you need some help with that?"

Patsy stopped singing and looking up, her mouth half-open, nodded her head. 

Well, hell, what was he supposed to do, just stand there? He took a couple of steps forward and held out his hand for the scissors. "Lean back a little," he told her. Wide-eyed, with a shaking hand, she handed him the scissors and did as instructed. 

His wife did not trim her hair, at least, not that hair. He did not know if his daughter does, and he sure as hell was not going to ask her. Woody thought the idea was wonderful. At least he thinks that now.

Almost as if he knew what he was doing, he asked humorously, to make light of the situation, "Is this supposed to be a close trim or just cut off some of the length?"

"Cl-close, I think," she answered. "I don't know. I've never..." but she didn't finish her statement, because about that time Woody put his hand on her inner thigh to move her leg so he could get a better view. He heard a low moan and it was apparent Patsy was trying everything she could to suppress it.

After some gentle snips, Woody made sure he did not look up when he mentioned, "I've heard some women shave. Have you ever thought about that?" As he asked the question, he gently ran his finger up between her labia, to check that he had cut all of the hair. Woody thought to himself, she had the sweetest pussy he had ever seen, and wondered what she would taste like. He had only tasted a few in his life, but this one looked very sweet. The lips were tight, close together, and very warm to the touch. They were also slightly pink and swollen, showing Patsy was feeling some kind of arousal. 

Patsy grabbed Woody's wrist and said, "Oh please, please, Woody..." She shuddered, took a deep breath, leaned forward, and put her thighs together, trapping his hand. 

The scissors clattered to the sink, Woody straightened up, and leaned closer to her. He had noticed that she was beginning to breathe faster and he could feel she was getting wetter, but didn't know what to do about it. He could smell the faint musk of her arousal and instead of leaving, as he probably should have done, he put his arm around her and held her.

"It's okay, honey. It's okay," he told her. He may have said several other things, but he really couldn't remember. One thing he does remember though is that she turned her face up to him. When she did that, he gave in to his urges and kissed her. He kissed her very thoroughly. The kiss was not the sweet little kiss he should have given his daughter's best friend. It was a passionate kiss, which she permitted, rather than joined. He knew she liked it because she put her arms around him and opened her mouth for him to explore.

Woody could not resist slipping his finger inside her. He knew she was wet; her sex was swollen and hot. He had already kissed her and he simply could not resist. He was able to hide his growing erection while he was trimming the hair, because he was bending over to see what he was doing. However, when Patsy moved her hips forward, just a little, he inserted his finger inside her and pressed his erection against her hip. Woody held on to her when she shuddered through her climax, squeezing his hand between her legs and throbbing around his finger. It felt like she was sucking his finger farther up into herself. A small trickle of fluid ran down his finger.

He held her for as long as her arms were tight around him. When she opened her legs, to free his hand, he stepped back. Despite a voice ringing in his head, "This is probably a stupid thing to do but I just have to taste this." Woody put his finger in his mouth and closed his eyes, savoring a taste he has missed for many more months than he cares to consider. When he finally opened his eyes, he was pulling his finger out of his mouth and Patsy was watching him. She dropped her eyes to look at the tent at the front of his pants and had a slight worried look on her face as she tried to smile.

Ignoring his thoughts about wanting to pick Patsy up and carry her to the nearest bed, Woody asked, "Is that what you wanted?" Then afraid she would think he was asking about her climax, instead of the length of the hair, he asked, "Do you think it's the right length?" That made it worse if she thought he was talking about the length of his penis. Finally, he simply stated, "I enjoyed that. Let me know when you need it done again. I'll be happy to oblige." 

Before he put his foot any deeper in his mouth, Woody turned and walked out of her house, drove home, and stood in the shower for a very long time. With cold water spraying on his back and running down his chest, he thought about Patsy as he masturbated. His erection did not fully subside as he expected because he was still thinking about Patsy, how warm she was in his hand when she trapped it between her thighs. Reliving how he kissed her, and the taste of her on his finger, he added hot water to the spray hitting his back and masturbated again. Finally, he left the shower, dried off, and stretched out on his bed, right under the air conditioning vent, to cool off. He could not remember ever being so aroused, not even when he was just barely old enough to drink. His older brother took him to a strip joint and one of the strippers leaned over to shake her breasts in his face. He proposed to Louise that weekend.

* * * *

Woody's thoughts did not change. He couldn't stop thinking about Patsy, not even after his daughter's phone call. He was still adamant about not apologizing to Patsy. As far as he was concerned, there was nothing to apologize to her about. Nevertheless, he should have been more considerate. He should have told Patsy how pretty she was and he could have kissed her again. And now, thinking about it, dammit, he should have taken her to bed and made love to her. That's what he really wanted to do, and what he has wanted to do for three whole days, and truthfully, longer than that. Like a teenager, he wished he hadn't washed his hand. He drove all the way home with his hand over his nose and had a dream that night that he could still smell her. When he woke up he was holding his erection and it was throbbing.

So, why wasn't he doing something about it? Because he was aware that he is twenty years older than she is and he does not want to be thought of as a horny old man chasing some young pussy. She is not even twenty-five and he's getting close to fifty, for God's sake. However, he still was not going to call her and apologize. The real problem was that Woody was afraid he would say something dumb if he did try to talk to her and make the whole situation that much worse. (Woody doubts Patsy knew anything about it.) He has never been sure how many of his friends know. He certainly hopes his daughter does not know. And if she doesn't know, Patsy probably doesn't know, either. Louise admitted she told a few of her friends. How many she told, he is not sure, but one was too many. It is possibly one of the reasons all those women wanted him. They may have heard some sort of gossip. 

The truth is his penis is big. Not just long, it is also thick. Louise was a virgin when they married and it took more than a week for them to get his whole penis inside her. The first few nights, it was painful for her and uncomfortable for him. Maybe he pushed too hard, and too fast, because he was young, aroused, and in a hurry, and did not know how to make it easy for Louise's body to accept him. She was determined though, because she wanted children. But she was also a very small woman. Now, thinking about it, he cannot forget the look on Patsy's face when she looked down at the front of his pants. He was afraid she had heard some of the gossip. 

Young boys are curious and competitive. One incident and his name, Woody, was permanent. To her dying day, his mother called him Woodson. She always called his older brother Richard, but to his friends, he was Dicky, for good reason. When Dicky was in the military and was overseas, he claimed instead of him paying the whores; they wound up paying him. Woody isn't sure he believes his brother, but Dicky swore it was true. Dicky is also on his fourth wife and probably fucking, as often as he can, the one who will be number five.

* * * * 

The situation was not going to resolve itself without some kind of action on his part. After a shower and a shave, and waiting as late as he dared, Woody was on his way to see Patsy. He was as nervous as he was the time he proposed marriage to a woman. What he was going to ask Patsy may not be quite that important, but he hoped he was a little smarter than when he was twenty years old, too. He just hoped he wasn't as tongue tied as he was almost thirty years ago.

When Woody knocked on her front door, Patsy was at the door quickly. Woody assumed she heard his car door close after he pulled into her driveway. Patsy didn't say a word. She took a step back and opened the door wider. Woody opened the storm door and stepped inside, and grasping the doorknob in his hand, quietly closed the door behind him. 

"I hope you don't mind, but I thought a visit would be better than a telephone call." 

"Oh. Yes, I guess so. May I...would you like a cup of...or, maybe, ah, do you want something stronger?" 

"Coffee sounds fine, Patsy." At least the ice is broken allowing them to talk to each other without too much embarrassment.

Patsy's hair was damp and she was wearing an oversized t-shirt that reached about half way down her thighs, which probably meant she was getting ready for bed. Looking at her, Woody was not sure what she was wearing underneath the shirt, because the dark blue color was not transparent. She was not wearing a bra that much was obvious, her breasts swayed smoothly when she turned to walk to the kitchen. If his fingers tingled to touch her, he hid it well. Woody leaned against the kitchen cabinet across from where Patsy stood to set up the coffee pot. He crossed one of his ankles over the other and folded his arms across his chest. It was the same place, and the same position, in which he stood several times during the three days he worked on the shelves in her office. He was comfortable in her kitchen. He may have been nervous, but not because he was standing in that room.

When Patsy had the coffee pot filled and turned on, she turned around and leaned against the kitchen counter across from Woody. She wasn't necessarily avoiding looking at him but she did not turn her face away from him either. She was just not looking him in the eye as she had done so easily a few months earlier.

"I wish I had stayed the other day," Woody admitted quietly. She may have nodded, but he is not certain. Her head just went down the one time and then back up. "Patsy, will you come over here and kiss me, or let me kiss you?" 




Apologize?



Her voice was very quiet, "Why?"

Trying for a friendly tone and giving a crooked smile, Woody said, "Oh, because I enjoy kissing a pretty woman. Or, because you are willing to show me you aren't angry with me."

Patsy looked up at him. "Oh no, I'm not angry. I thought you might be...you know...mad at me for letting you..."

Without saying another word, Woody uncrossed his ankle, and just stood there. He held out his arms to her and, as if Patsy knew exactly what to do, stepped between his legs, putting her arms around his neck. She lifted her face to his, and kissed him. Woody noticed her lips were stiff and tight. He broke the kiss and placed his hand on the back of her head, pushing her to rest against him.

"It's a little difficult to change the way you think about a person, isn't it? I was the father of your friend and now I'm a man. You were my daughter's friend, but now you're a woman. A woman I desire."

Rather than responding, Patsy simply nodded. Much as he told her in the bathroom the other day, Woody said, "Its okay, Honey. It really is okay." He gave little thought to his use of the term of endearment, Honey. However, he couldn't help it because it was how he thought of her. He took a deep breath, tightening his arms around her. "But I did enjoy that. Whew. For several months, I'd been beating myself up for the feelings I was having. The chance to touch you like that was more than I could resist. If I offended you, I am sorry. Honey, I am not sorry for a single thing I did. I enjoyed it and wouldn't trade it for anything in the world."

"Why didn't you stay? I mean...I would have...maybe."

"Yeah, maybe...and I guess I left for the same reason. That's why it took me so long to come back over here. I was afraid. I probably still am, but I was too interested in you to stay away."

"I thought it was...you know, just me. I mean...I shouldn't want...well, not my friend's..." As if a switch turned on inside her head, Patsy stepped back and said, "I'll pour the coffee."

Woody reached for her as she backed up. He put his hand on her shoulder and shook his head. "Maybe later, right now, I want something else."

"Oh? What?" Her question was so innocent, for a moment, Woody did not know if he would tell her the truth.

"You."

Patsy took another step back, ending up against the opposite counter top, which was not quite as far away as she expected. A slight surprise showed on her face as she put her hands behind her to touch the cabinet top. The movement of her arms stretched the t-shirt across her breasts, unintentionally showing Woody that her nipples were hard and prominently pressing against her shirt. He didn't have to see those nipples because had already felt them against his chest when he was holding her.

She had not rejected him, but neither had she accepted him. She tried to smile, but only managed a nervous quiver of her lips. 

"Does that bother you?" Woody asked, wondering if she said no, how much farther he would go in pursuing her. 

Patsy shook her head, but said nothing. "I want you now, Patsy. Do you understand that?" 

"Alright, yes, okay...I want you, too. I wanted to tell you, but...I'm not sure I can..." Patsy did not finish her sentence, because she looked down at the crotch of his pants.

"Damn." Woody muttered under his breath. "Who told you?" Maybe he should have asked a little more pleasantly, but if Patsy knew something, she heard it from another woman. A man would not say anything to a young woman like her, at least none of the men who might know the actual truth.

"I heard Mother and Aunt Jean talking." She lifted her face to look at him but she was still not comfortable looking him in the eye. "It was a few months after your wife... It was about...about who would...the woman that would get you...next. It was like...it was a contest. You know...the winner was going to..." She looked away from him, still embarrassed.

Woody turned around, braced his hands on the countertop behind him, and laughed. He tried to suppress the laughter but was unsuccessful. Then he groaned, long and low, almost a growl. Patsy stepped over to him placing one hand on his back. To her surprise, he turned, put his hands under her arms, and quickly lifted Patsy up to sit on the counter. Though Woody doesn't consider himself a strong man, he noticed that Patsy wasn't as heavy as he thought she might be. He sat her on the counter because he wanted her at the same eye level as he was.

"Oh lord, honey. I don't know why those women bother." He tried to keep his comment light, but he did not like knowing she might be so concerned. "I have to laugh about it. It's not what you think." 

When Patsy started to move, Woody stopped her, placing his hand flat on her stomach. "I'll show you mine, but only because I've already seen yours. Okay?" When she nodded, he added, "But I'd rather do it a little more privately than the middle of your kitchen."

"Oh good. Okay," she said, as she hopped down from the counter. Woody was surprised she sounded so pleased, almost excited, at the possibility of seeing what amounted to a naked man. She took his hand and began to lead him across the living room, toward the hall.

Woody tugged on her hand to stop her. "Lights and doors Patsy. Turn off the lights and lock the doors. Unless you run me off, I'm staying the night."

"You mean..." she turned toward him, letting go of his hand, but did not raise her eyes above the top few buttons of his shirt.

"Yes. This isn't fuck and then I go home. I intend to make love to you and it may take me all night to do it."

Her expression turned serious, "But, what if I can't..." her eyes looked up to his, and then she quickly looked down.

Woody stood in the middle of her living room. "Patsy, I'm going to make love to you. I'm not asking you for anything but to allow me to give you some pleasure. It's not about what I want, what I have, or who I am. It's about you."

"But won't you want... I mean you can't... You'll want to..." Her eyes dropped a little further, below his belt, but she quickly raised them. However, Patsy still did not look him in the eye.

"Stop," he said gently. "I am not a young thoughtless stud only interested in myself and what I want. That's what I'm trying to tell you. Now, if we both understand that, please turn off the lights, lock the doors and we will enjoy each other as long as we can, before one, or both of us, is asleep or exhausted."

Woody stood in the middle of the living room, watching Patsy as she checked the back door, locked the front door, and turned off the light in the kitchen. During those chores, she occasionally stopped for a moment and looked at him, but he did not move. He was patiently waiting for her to be ready to go to bed. 

When she walked to stand in front of him, he took her hand and looked at her, but did not move. She looked up at him, as if the ask, What is the reason for this delay? As if he could read her mind, Woody said, "I only have one more question. Are you on some form of birth control?"

Patsy looked down the hall, but turned her face back to him. "Y-yes, ah, yes I ah, I take a pill every day."

"Good. Are there any questions you want to ask me?" Woody waited a moment, and then added, "I'll tell you anything you want to know about my past sexual partners or experiences, but I will not give you any names. Is that fair enough?"

"Do you...should I tell you... I mean, do you want to know the same information?"

"Not right now, Honey, I just want to be honest with you and hope you feel you can be the same with me."

As they walked down the hall, Patsy said, "I'm not...well, I don't do this. I mean, not like some girls." She talked through her nervousness, which told him more than the words themselves said. "I've been to bed with a few boys, but not... They didn't seem to like, well, I don't go out a lot. I mean...to meet, ah...men."

While going to her bedroom, Woody had a quick, very serious talk with himself. This young woman's lack of experience was greater than he thought. Also, his feelings for her were much stronger than he thought. He admitted he might not be able to keep himself from wanting more than an occasional night or afternoon with her. 

Woody walked to the bed and sat down to take off his shoes and socks, as if he had done this many times before. Patsy remained standing just inside the door of her bedroom.

"Come here, Honey," he motioned her over to him. When Patsy drew near him, Woody put his hands on her waist and pulled her between his knees. "Tell me one thing you like about being in bed with a man."

She grinned, put her hands on his shoulders, and looked over his head, when she said, "You're warm."

"Oh my," Woody chuckled easily. "You will enjoy me. I'm told I am a furnace." He moved his hands to Patsy's back and pressed her closer to him until he could put his mouth against her, to blow his hot breath through her shirt. She wiggled a little from the tickling sensation and Woody pushed her back a little so he could stand up.

He lowered his hands and lifted the bottom edge of her shirt. "Can I take this off, now?" Patsy nodded once and held her arms out. He pulled the shirt up and over her head. She stood before him in just her tiny pink bikini panties. He didn't want to undress her any further because he already knew what was inside those panties. 

"Oh, Honey, you are so pretty." And she was pretty. Woody may have wanted to touch every inch of bare skin he saw, but he knew Patsy was nervous, so he would wait. He had all night to enjoy this woman. Instead, he gazed at her breasts, they were full, slightly heavy looking, with dark areolas and slightly raised nipples. He slid his hands across the tops of her shoulders, which felt tense and rigid. Brushing the soft curls away from the sides of her face, Woody leaned over to kiss her softly. His hands moved down her arms and brought her hands to the bottom of his shirt as he helped her pull his shirt over his head. Woody tenderly held her hands again, moving them to his belt buckle. He helped her loosen the buckle until his pants fall to the floor. Woody was now standing before her in his boxer shorts and nothing else.

When Patsy took a step back, Woody held her upper arms for support as he stepped out of his pants. His hands lightly caressed her arms, slowly moving them downward, until he grasped her hands in his. Thankfully, his erection had not developed fully, perhaps due to his own nervousness or a very strong will, which kept his attention on other things. Still holding Patsy's hands he lowered them to the front of his shorts, closing one around the base of his shaft through the fabric, the other between his legs to cup his balls within his shorts. 

"Okay?" Woody asked. Patsy didn't say a word, still standing there as she held him; she partially opened her fingers, and then closed them around his penis once again. "Women talk, repeating what they hear, and pass along what they think is juicy gossip." She looked up at him then dropped her eyes to look at his chest, and nodded. He leaned a little nearer to her and whispered in her ear, "None of them really know and it can be our secret." When he straightened up, she was beginning to smile. He told her, "But I can assure you it still works."

He held her wrists and moved her hands up to rest against his chest. Her hands were cold and stiff, with only her palm and the tips of her fingers resting against him. He took a deep breath, tried to relax, and felt her do the same, yet he felt a slight tremor go through her hands. 

"Oh my, you are so pretty," he told Patsy again when he moved his hands to rest them on her shoulders. "I don't know where to start. I just want to enjoy you." Woody leaned forward and placed his lips against the side of her neck, feeling the softness of her skin, the rush of her blood, and the slight tremor of her nervousness, and he smelled the clean scent of her freshly washed hair.

Woody moved his mouth to her cheek, lightly touched each eye, and softly brushed across her forehead before touching his lips to her temple. He placed his lips on her mouth, touched her lightly and raised his head to see Patsy had closed her eyes. Seeing this he pressed his lips against hers more firmly. Woody was looking for a sign to see if Patsy was comfortable with this so for. He received the sign, when she lifted her head for the next kiss. She slid her arms across his chest and put her arms around him. Her hands were still a little cold, but that was okay as far as Woody was concerned.

Finally, Woody could really hold her. He put his arms around Patsy, pulling her a little closer, and this time really kissed her. He tilted his head to one side, slid his mouth across hers, and then did it again until she was comfortable enough with his mouth on hers for her to part her lips. He touched her lower lip with his tongue and left a trace of moisture. She opened her mouth a little farther, and he did the same thing with her upper lip. His hand went behind her head and pressed it toward him. Woody simply wanted to hold her, allow her to feel the warmth of him around her, and let her be comfortable in his arms. 

How long Woody stood still, simply holding Patsy, he did not know. Sometime in the minutes of closely touching each other, their breathing grew slower and deeper, in unison with each other. Her clammy hands finally turned warm and lay flat against him until she was slowly moving them, up and down his back. The caress was so light he almost missed it. When he tilted his head down to look at her, she had turned her face for a light touch of her mouth on him. She lifted herself onto her toes for her next kiss, to the base of his neck. In turn, Woody tilted his head down farther, to take her next kiss on his lips.

Their next kiss was not like his previous gentle kisses. Nor was it like her tentative kisses. It was something else. It was electrical, a buzz up his spine, a tingle to his scalp, and the most mouth-watering experience he could recall. He felt chills on her skin and perspiration break out across his shoulders. Her mouth was hot; her tongue was relaxed when he touched it with his own, as he felt her arms tightened around him. It lasted forever. He did not want to separate himself from her. He may have lifted her off her feet. 

When Woody could no longer bear the intensity, he lifted his head and rested his forehead against hers. Her face flushed, she tilted her head back, and she closed her eyes, her dark lashes resting against her skin. Her mouth was open, she was breathing hard, almost panting, and a tear was moving down her cheek.

"You're a beautiful woman," Woody whispered. "Someone I can cherish, hold, and protect." He pulled her tight against him and held her until her breathing slowed. 

Woody finally took a step backward, slowly taking his arms from around Patsy. "Better now?" he asked. When she opened her eyes and nodded, he told her, "Turn the bed down and if you don't mind, I'll take this side."

Patsy moved to the other side of the bed. He copied her actions as she pulled the spread down, folded the top of the sheet and blanket down and replaced her pillow. She lifted her side of the covers and slid into her bed. After folding back the covers on his side of the bed, and turning off the bedside lamp, Woody lay down and turned toward her. He placed one arm on the other side of her and braced himself above her, leaned forward and kissed her once. 

"Do you know what I want?" he asked quietly. She rolled her head from side to side. She was usually quiet anyway, but she had not said very much since he walked in her front door. "I want you to talk to me."

Her first spoken word was, "Talk?" She asked, not sure if she understood him.

"Yes, just talk," he said easily. "If I touch you like this," placing his hand against her cheek, "And you like it, tell me you like it, or just say, "Yes." He leaned over and kissed her gently. "And if I kiss you, or touch you, and you want me to do it again, tell me, "More." Can you do that?"

"Yes, more," she answered softly, smiling, looking up at his eyes as if she was finally understanding his instructions.

"My pleasure, Honey," Woody told her as he returned his hand to her cheek and leaned forward for a much longer kiss. Her response was easy and natural. She opened herself to him, pulled him toward her, and moved her mouth over his. As the kiss continued, Woody slipped his arm under her and felt Patsy put her arms around him. 

He wanted to taste her, to yield to the temptation he had felt for a long time before the day he acted as her barber. Her response was giving him permission to pull her close to him, nibble on her lips, enjoy one small spot on her neck, and then find another. He gave her the closeness she wanted as her arms tightened around him. He shared his warmth with her, the sensation, and sensitivity of skin against skin. He was careful and tender as his hands moved over her. 

He taught her to kiss him, brushing his tongue along the seam between her lips until Patsy opened her mouth. Woody kissed her cheek, but returned to her mouth. He slipped his tongue between her lips and sucked her tongue into his mouth. He nibbled on her earlobe. Patsy turned her head to give him access and hunched her shoulders as a chill traveled along her upper arms and down her back. Woody brushed the tip of his tongue across the tip of hers. He gently sucked her lower lips between his lips, rubbing the tip of his tongue from side to side. Her mouth opened wider and wider, opening herself to him. Her eyes closed and her body completely relaxed. Her hands moved up and down his back and rested on his shoulders, then finally moved to his face to hold his mouth against hers. 

Her breathing was faster and Woody stopped counting the times Patsy whispered, "Yes, yes, oh yes," when he moved his mouth away from hers. He was listening to her wordless sounds, too. She enjoyed being kissed, would moan softly as his mouth and tongue tasted and teased her. He did not rush her. His kisses were soft, easy, and wet. He could taste her, and smell her, a delicious combination of something that was purely her, plus the soap she used, which he remembered from the day he was in her bathroom, and her shampoo. She wanted to kiss him, too. She used her mouth and tongue to discover the different textures of his skin, his freshly shaved cheeks, the skin above his dark beard, the softness under the line of his jaw, and the faint line of whiskers right above his upper lip, which he never seemed to get shaved as close as he wanted. 

His mouth moved down her neck, teasing her, tasting her, and feeling her warmth. His mouth left a trail of moisture down the center of her cleavage. He took his arms from around her, heard her whimper of complaint, and rested his palms on her breasts. She inhaled deeply and let her breath out with a wordless moan of pleasure.

Between kisses to the softness under each breast, Woody told her, "So pretty, so pretty, oh so lovely."

As his mouth neared one nipple, his hand moved to the side of her breast. He rested the flat of his tongue against her nipple and she shivered. 

Patsy whispered, "Yes,", when he drew the areola and nipple into his mouth. She said it again when she pushed her breast against his mouth.

Woody moved the tip of his tongue across her nipple, felt it begin to harden, and heard her saying, "More, more, yes."

Encouraged by Patsy's responses and her eagerness for his attention to her breasts, Woody moved his palm back to cover one breast, making a circular motion by moving his fingers on her nipples and cupping her softness in his hand. While he was doing this, he placed his mouth firmly on the other breast. She trembled, quivered, and pushed her breast against him. 




Apologize?



She continued to respond to him, using the words he had told her to say, "Yes. Oh, yes. More, Woody. More."

Woody held her breast in his mouth while he slipped his hands under her back, his cheeks moved in and out, as he suckled, relaxed, and suckled again, his movements keeping pace with her increased breathing. Woody rolled over, taking Patsy with him until she was lying on him, his thigh between her legs. Her head thrown back and turning from side to side, she was unaware of anything but how his mouth was making her feel. He smelled her sex. He felt her heat on his leg, the crotch of her panties was wet and warm against him. She pressed herself against his leg and she moved, feeling the intensity, and stimulating herself on his thigh, unaware she was doing so. He heard the words he had taught her to say, telling him she liked what he was doing, and he heard her wordless pleading, a soft low moan of pleasure. 

He moved his hands back to her breasts, pushed against her until she was sitting up, with her hands braced on his chest. He teased her nipples with his thumb, watching her face to see how much stimulation she wanted. When he pressed and rolled her nipple between his thumb and finger, she curled her shoulders forward letting him know it was too much. When he rubbed across her nipple with his thumb, she sat up straighter, her shoulders went back, and she asked for more. 

Patsy was panting, her mouth open, and her head hanging down. Suddenly, she was still, her eyes opened wide, and her hands grasped at him, as she shuddered and trembled through a small climax. Then she fell forward onto his chest, panting and sweaty from her exertions. He held her, telling her, "Easy Honey, easy." His hands went up and down her back, soothing her, stroking her, caressing her. 

He listened to her whimper, not sure, if she was confused, embarrassed, or afraid. Woody repeated his words of encouragement. "Its okay, Honey. It's okay." 

"Woody?" she finally asked.

"Hm-m-m?" he answered lazily, as he allowed her to slide off him. He pushed against her shoulder until she was on her back, so he could taste her breasts again. 

"That...I never did that... I mean, without.... I didn't know I could. I mean, like that."

"Good," his voice rumbled against her stomach. With one hand, Woody reached down and lowered her panties. She lifted her hips for him to push the panties farther down. Patsy raised her knees and used her feet to take them all the way off. 

"That tickles," she complained when he put his tongue in her belly button as he moved between her legs.

"Good," he chuckled and did it again while he pushed against her inner thighs to move her legs farther apart. 

Patsy tried to sit up, but fell back on the bed when he blew his hot breath through the now short hair at the top of her mound.

"Oh-h-h," she released a long low groan and put her hands on the sides of his face when his pointed tongue swept between the lips of her pussy.

"Let me do this for you," Woody said, lowering his head again despite her hands pressing against his cheeks.

"But that's..." Patsy tried to say.

"Delicious," he told her. Woody licked her again, a long slow sweep of his flattened tongue across her lips, and a gentle glide to the fleshy part of her mound. 

One of her hands went down to cover herself. Woody's tongue brushed up her hand, barely able to get between her fingers. "Let me taste you, Honey. I enjoy this." 

She moved her hand up to give him some access. When he swept his tongue all the way up, between the lips, and between her fingers, she removed her hand.

"Oh." She sounded surprised when he moved his pointed tongue between the lips and brushed across her clit. He felt her thighs tremble. She begged, "Don't, Woody. Wait."

He moved up to her mouth and kissed her gently, his tongue wet with her juice. She opened her eyes and her tongue came out to lick the moisture off her lips. "Woody," she said in surprise when she sampled the taste of herself he left on her mouth.

"I want to make love to you, honey. Just relax and let me do this." 

"But you shouldn't want to...to do that," she objects. "It's not clean." 

"Oh Honey, it's wonderful. I trimmed it neatly. You washed it. It is part of your beauty. You taste so sweet. If you don't like it, I'll stop. I promise." 

She whispered, afraid to voice something she does not know. "Does it mean I have to...?" 

"It just means I want to do this for you. That's all it means. I want to give you some pleasure." 

"But, what am I supposed to do?" she asks. 

Finally understanding that she felt she should be participating, Woody told her, "Lie down and relax. This is my gift. I want to show you how much I enjoy what you are willing to share with me. And I want you to tell me how much you like it."

As if it was his first time to taste the treasures of a woman, Woody took his time. In fact, it may be the first time he found so much to delight him, in the body of a woman. He enjoyed her slender graceful movements. Her pelvis, wide and flat, was not tiny, round or compact. There was substance to her full breasts. Her shoulders were just the right width and her narrow waist, above her hipbones, seemed a natural place for his hands to hold her.

He placed his hands under Patsy's knees and lifted them. As he began to explore her, she relaxed her knees and allowed them to fall to the side, opening herself further for him. He moved slowly, allowing her to feel what he was doing. He enjoyed sucking first one lip, and then the other, into his mouth, running his tongue under the lip, feeling the soft warm tissues. Patsy breathed in deeply when he formed him tongue into a hard stiff point and ran it up and down between the soft lips, gently moving through the inner lips. 

Patsy took a deep breath, moved her hands to rest on his head, threaded her fingers through his hair, and said his name softly, "Woody," making it sound like a term of endearment. She moaned, her voice going up a note and then down, as if she was slowly sliding down a gentle slope of pleasure. 

He moved her legs over his shoulders and pushed his fingers under her, lifting her to his mouth. He placed his thumbs on the swelling outer lips, pushed up and then to the sides, opening her lips, and exposing her glistening clit. His lips nuzzled her, going around in an ever-tightening circle until he pressed his mouth against her and pushed his tongue inside her pussy. He tasted and sucked in the salty sweet flavor of her juices, feeling the heat as it collected and her tissues as they filled with her blood, increasing her arousal. 

Patsy moaned something about a tingle when Woody moved his mouth up to rest his flat tongue against her clit. She gasped when he moved his tongue slowly brushing her now hardened nodule. When he slid a finger inside her, she pushed her hips toward him. Perhaps she remembered sitting on her bathroom sink when he did much the same. But she was not nearly so aroused that morning. 

Patsy's breathing increased until she was panting, telling him "Oh," each time she exhaled. She lifted her hips when he curled his finger inside her, as if he was reaching to tickle the inside of her belly button. 

Woody continued moving his tongue across her clit, flicking and stimulating her faster and harder, repeatedly curling and relaxing his finger inside her, until Patsy exploded. Woody's mouth filled with her salty fluids. What he couldn't hold ran down his chin. Her hips beat against the bed beneath her, her thighs clamped around his head, and she lifted her shoulders off the bed. Her muscles gripped his finger, at the same time throbbed, and twitched, as she moaned with the intensity of her climax. Her movements were mindless, her cries were natural, a release of the ecstasy she was experiencing. 

As Patsy's thighs began to relax, Woody resumed his assault on the small, hardened collection of nerves. He moved his tongue across the sensitive bud despite Patsy's efforts to push his forehead away from her. And then she was holding his head against herself as his finger moved inside her. He sucked her clit into his mouth and rubbed his tongue across it, swirled his tongue around it, and lightly scraped his teeth across the top.

"Oh yes. Oh, yes. Oh yes," she chanted as she rolled her head from side to side. Her voice went higher and louder until she erupted like a geyser for the second time. Hot fluids burst from her in splatters and jets. She groaned and lifted her lower back off the mattress while raising her legs straight up, and then bouncing her hips on the bed. The pounding of her hips were hard thrashing bounces, her whole body moved with the tempo of her climatic muscle contractions.

Woody eased his way upward until he was above her. He held her down, swept his erection through her moisture, and slowly eased the head of his cock inside her. Her muscles contracted and pulled him a little further inside herself.

She put her hand between her legs and clasped his hardness. "Easy honey, easy," he told her. She moved her hands back up to his shoulders, trying to pull him nearer, and then took his face in her hands, urging him closer for a kiss. He leaned forward and kissed her hard. He pushed his tongue into her mouth and sucked her tongue into his. He spread some of her moisture on her face and down her neck, nipping at the soft skin.

Woody rocked his hips back and pushed forward, letting her feel his cock going into her. He rested a moment and then did it again, watching her face as a small smile spread her lips. He pulled back then pushed a little farther into her and saw her nod, her eyes open in surprise.

"More?" she whispered, still unsure of herself. But her body knew. Her hips moved toward him, pulled back, and moved again, each time he went a little deeper until he was fully sheathed inside her. He was still for a moment, to allow her body to mold itself around him. Patsy shuddered and relaxed her shoulders. 

Slowly, he pulled back and pushed against her. Her face showed surprise, and delight, when he was all the way inside her. He pulled back and pushed against her, and then did it a few more times until her movements begin to mirror his. Woody delighted in the satin smoothness of her, the slickness as he moved in and out of her. He watched her beautiful face beneath him as she smiled when he pushed his cock fully inside her and his balls slapped against her.

As their dance of pleasure continued, Woody braced his arms, held himself above her, and allowed her to move. She ran her warm hands up and down his sides, lifted her shoulders to place her hands on his hips, pressed against him, and lifted her own hips to meet his as he moved into her.

He pulled back and tried to keep his strokes shallow, but could not resist full deep movements into her, knowing he was hitting against her cervix. Aware she may be sore tomorrow, he occupied his mind, planning to treat her to a long soak in a bathtub of warm water. He wanted this wonderful time with her to last. He did not want it to end too soon.

Patsy's thighs trembled, her eyes closed, and her head tilted back as her chin pointed upward. She was almost there, at the top of the mountain. She arched her back, shuddered, and tried to hold him still as the hollow feeling at the base of his cock spread. And then unable to be gentle, he slammed into her, repeatedly, groaning with the effort, perspiration beading his back and chest, dripping from his chin. Pounding against her cervix, earned him a grunt from her each time his balls slapped against her. Her hands gripped his shoulders, braced against him while she lifted her hips trying to force him deeper into her.

He watched her as a dark red blush went from her breasts, up her neck, and across her cheeks. Her face was beautiful, and then almost ugly with the intensity of her approaching climax, and once again beautiful and serene, moments before the depth of her pleasure overtook her.

Woody clenched his jaws, as his body grew rigid with hard thrusts into her. He curved his back as his cock expanded inside her, pounded against her and suddenly, his sperm rippled up his cock and spurted into her like a fountain, the heat causing her to shatter around him. He held her down as she thrashed and bumped against him. No longer able to maintain the even pace, he lurched against her and his head jerked back with each spurt of his cum. He growled an animal sound that gurgled through him and burst into the air, while Patsy opened her mouth and added her own expression of complete abandon to the pleasure of the moment. She throbbed around him, pulled every ounce from him, and held him inside her heat.

Lowering his body, Woody rested his forehead on the bed beside her head. Panting, he drew in great gulps of air, and heard Patsy doing the same. He felt her heart pounding against him as her hands move up and down his back.

He nuzzled her neck, enjoying the salty taste of her exertions and kissed her mouth once, hard and demanding. Her muscles released him and his softening cock slid out of her. It was a separation he did not want, an almost painful end to what was so wonderful, but never lasted long enough. He rolled to the side, turned her, and pulled her into his arms. Patsy trembled as he held her and felt the mini after-shocks, which caused her to twitch. 

It was a few long minutes before the roaring inside Woody's head slowed to a dull thud as his blood flow slowed to a normal pace. As her heavy breathing subsided, Patsy's hands brushed along his forearms wrapped around her, beneath her breasts.

"Woody?" Patsy finally said, so quietly he was not really sure he heard her.

"Hm-m-m?" he answered as he nuzzled her neck, taking delight when she tilted her head to give him more access to her.

"I...I was afraid," she admitted. "But, well, I'm not afraid anymore."

"Good, maybe there is something to say about being with an older man. Do you think?"

"But," she started to answer, stopped for a moment, and then said, "Woody, you're not old."

"I know, honey. I'm just glad you know it too. Your shirt is over here on the floor. Why don't you go get me that cup of coffee now?"

* * * * 

Edited by Tony (Thank you, Sweetie)

Thanks for reading this work. Please vote to indicate how much you enjoyed it, and leave comments or feedback if you can spare the time. Your votes and feedback are the only way I will know how much you enjoyed my effort, and furnish the only means to improve my writing. 

Thanks again,

2Xwidderwoman 



Apologize



My name is Kate. I am 24 years old and work in a local bank. I live with my brother Jason who is 6 years younger than me. I've have been living in Los Angeles for the past 4 years. 

My father serves in the army and comes home for a short period, but my mother never really stays at home. She is always busy with her business tours so I have to take care of my brother. I love my brother very much and he means the world to me. The reason behind my deep love for him is that he is different from others. He is 6 years younger than me but he knows me more than anyone else does. He is always there to cheer me up when I am sad and tries to help me in every possible way. However, one day everything changed between us. 

It was unlike any other normal night. I got a text message from my best friend about the party at her house. She wanted me to meet a person who could help me get a job. I like to be the center of attraction at parties so I took a long time to get ready. I wore a white blouse that had a tailored fit. It wasn't exactly see-through, but as I looked in the mirror, the outline of my black bra was clearly visible. Because it was a tailored fit, I left the top buttons undone to reveal my ample cleavage. I wore a black split crotch panty. My pussy was clearly visible through the panty. Then I slipped on tight white trousers. I thought the trousers were too tight so I exchanged the trousers for a white skirt that buttoned down the front. I fastened only the top three buttons and sat down on the bed. The skirt fell open and it barely covered my pussy. My complexion is dark and tanned so I didn't need tights or stockings. I finished the outfit with black high-heeled shoes and went downstairs. 

Jason was sitting on the sofa watching basketball. He looked at me as I entered. 

"How do I look dear?" I asked, spinning around so he could see me from all sides. 

"Like always! Beautiful." Was his simple comment. Jason never really used the words sexy or hot so I had no choice but to accept the word beautiful. Even that simple one word compliment meant a lot to me, because I knew that he sincerely meant it. I cannot call him a nerd because he was not a bookworm, yet he took his studies very seriously. He never goes to parties or dates any girl in his class. I guess except for me, there was no other girl in his life. 

"Ok dear. I will not be able to make it home early so don't wait for me and you be sure to have dinner on time. There is food in the fridge that is already cooked; you just have to warm it up." I said as I left the house. 

I was at the party and was busy talking with my friend, when I got a call from an unknown number. When I answered, a man's voice told me that he was Jason's friend. When I asked him the reason for calling me, he told me that he saw Jason making out with a boy today in school, and he thought that I should know about it. When I tried to ask his name, he disconnected the call. 

It really freaked me out. I knew that it was not true but the caller had planted the seed of doubt in my mind so I was not sure either. I decided that I would talk about it with my brother after I returned home. I tried to tell my friend that I wanted to go to home, but she wouldn't listen to me, instead she insisted that I stay a little while longer and have a few drinks with her. I'm not usually a drinker but after drinking a few tequila shots, perhaps 4 - 5 shots, I became wild and had no control over myself. I guess some would say that I seemed to be having a good time. 

My friend asked another girl to drop me off at home, as I was way too drunk to drive. They told me later that it took my friend and the other girl both to get me out to the car. Then she phoned Jason and told him what had happened and that I would be home soon. I was in the backseat, and shouted like a slut, as she drove through the traffic signal near my house. My brother was waiting outside the door when I reached home. 

"Hey! my cute little brother." I mumbled as I fell upon my brother as he tried to get me inside the house. The girl left as soon as my brother and I got inside the house. A few minutes later, after struggling to get me upstairs, we reached the bedroom. How he ever managed to get me up those steps, I'll never know; it must have taken super-human strength. Most of this time is a blank in my mind; however, I can remember singing at the top of my lungs as he half carried, half-dragged me to my room. He opened the door and threw me on the bed. As soon as I fell on the bed, I fell asleep. 

I slowly tried to open my eyes. The pain in my head was unbearable; it felt like there was a large marching band inside, all beating on a drum. It was hard for me to lift myself up because the whole world seemed to want to spin. Finally, I managed to sit up on the side of the bed, and as I looked at myself in the mirror, I saw that I was in my bra and panty. I guess that he had removed my skirt and blouse when I was unconscious, because I don't remember ever undressing. Looking at the clock next to the bed, I saw that it was past 11:00 am. I picked up the night robe from the shelf and wore it to cover myself. Hanging on to the handrail and carefully placing one foot in front of the other, I managed to go downstairs without falling and breaking my neck. Reaching the bottom and entering the living room, I saw my brother eating a sandwich and watching a romantic comedy movie. I quickly went to the kitchen to make a cup of coffee for myself. 

"Hi Jason. Good morning." I greeted him as I made my way back into the living room and sat down beside him. I wasn't very proud of the way I had acted last night, but I knew that I'd have to face him sometime, so I might as well get it over with as soon as possible. 

"Good morning or almost good afternoon." He greeted me with a knowing smile. "How do you feel?" 

"Like a herd of wild horses had stomped all over me, and then I'd been run over by a big truck." I replied with a sheepish grin. He couldn't resist a hearty laugh at my answer, and I was glad that at least someone was enjoying the situation. I sure wasn't, but I guess I had nobody to blame but myself. 

"Does that mean that you don't want to go out to a party tonight?" He asked grinning from ear to ear. 

I knew that he was just teasing me, because normally he was very polite and considerate of other people and their feelings. He didn't really expect an answer to that question, so I just poked him in his ribs with my elbow and blew on my coffee to cool it down. As I was taking a sip of my coffee, I swear out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jason checking me out. I looked down at my chest and found out why he was staring. My robe was wide open, my bra had ridden down super low and my tits were practically popping out of my bra. If that wasn't enough reason for him to stare at me, I noticed that my panty was giving an ample view of my pussy. I felt a strange sensation knowing that my little brother was ogling me. 

"Like the view ...brother?" I asked slowly not taking my eyes off his face. 

"What?" His mind was on what he was looking at, so it took a long time for him to answer me. 

"I said...do you... like the... view?" I asked him again. 

"Come on Kate!" He replied. I could tell that he felt embarrassed because he knew that I had caught him looking. Unable to face me, he turned his face away. 

""Its ok, I don't really mind, you know. You are my brother and that makes me feel safe with you. So don't be embarrassed." I tried to reassure him, but I thought it was cute that my brother was feeling embarrassed. 

"Can't we talk about another topic?" He pleaded with me. 

"Ok ok! So do you have any plans for today?" I asked, changing the subject. I didn't want to push any further, because I could see that he already felt bad because I'd caught him looking at me. I guess it would make a guy feel uneasy if his sister saw him looking at her that way. In a way, I couldn't help but consider it a compliment that he found me attractive. 

"Not really! I have to prepare for an English test so I will be busy with my books." 

"Come on brother! It's Valentines Day. Go out and enjoy this romantic day." 

"Don't you know that I don't have girlfriend?" 

"But I heard that you have a boyfriend." 

"What!" He shouted. 

"Well...I got a call from your friend last night." 

"Who?" He demanded to know, turning his face and body towards me. I could tell that what I had said had shocked him, and that he expected an answer. 

"I don't know. But he told me that he saw you making out with..." 

"With?" 

"With a boy." I answered, now more uncertain than ever about the truth of what that strange voice had told me. 

"What! And you believed him?" He shouted, his voice almost reaching a breaking point. 

"err..hmmm" I was stumped for an answer. 

"So you did believe a stranger's words. I can't believe you would do that to me, your brother." 

He quickly got up and ran towards his room, slamming the door closed and locking it. Now my heart, filled with so much guilt at my lack of faith in my dear sweet brother, felt like it was going to break. I couldn't believe that I didn't trust my brother and had believed a stranger. I had to apologize and somehow try to make it up to him. Getting up and completely forgetting my headache, I quickly went upstairs, stopping at the closed door to his room. 

I knew that he still had the door locked when I was unable to turn the doorknob. "Please give me a chance Jason. Let me in." I begged, standing in front of the door to his room. He didn't open the door or answer my plea. 

"You know I'm not going away. Please, just open the door and we'll sort this all out." I begged him again. 

Jason apprehensively unlocked the door to his room and slid it open slightly, just enough to peak out. 

"Please Jason, let me in." I said as I put my hand against the door and lightly pushed. He didn't offer any resistance and stepped back as I walked in. Walking over to my brother's single bed, which was at the far end of the room, I turned and sat down. Looking back at him, I saw that he had closed the door but did not want to look at me because he was standing with his back towards me. 

"What do you want Kate?" He asked, still not looking at me, just staring at the white door in front of him. 

"To talk. To apologize." 

"Well, I'm not sure there is anything to apologize for really." 

"Bullshit! You know there is." 

"What, uuumm, what is there to apologize for?" He asked. I could tell that he was still angry as he turned and looked at me. "You have said how you feel about me, and I guess you have a right to feel that way if you want." 

"I know that I should have believed you, not any stranger. I haven't seen you with any girl before, so I thought...." 

"So you believed that stranger and thought that I am gay. Thanks sis. Thank you very much!" He yelled. "It sure is nice to know that you have so much confidence in me." 

"I am sorry dear." I apologized. I got off the bed and walked over to my brother who backed away from me. I grabbed his hand and pulled him towards me. He tried to turn away from me, but I had a firm grip on his hands. I could see the pain in his eyes that I had caused him. He would never admit it, but I had a feeling he was struggling desperately to keep from crying, I had hurt him that badly. Knowing that I had to do something to tear down that barrier that had come between us, I cupped his face in my hands and forced him to look at me. 

"Jason, I'm terribly sorry that I have hurt you and that I doubted you for a little while. When that person told me what he did about you, it shocked me so badly that I couldn't think straight. My mind was just a jumbled up mess of thoughts, none of which made any sense. I'm sorry. Please, can you find it in your heart to forgive me?" 

For several moments neither of us said a word, we just stood there looking into each other's eyes. I knew I hurt my brother by not believing him and I had to do something before the situation become worse.I pulled the open robe off my shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. I leaned slightly forward until our lips gently met. That first brief kiss only lasted a few seconds, but those seconds would prove to change our lives forever. 

"Kate, what are you doing?"He stammered, obviously shaken by what had just now happened. He offered no resistance as I pushed back on his shoulders, until I had pinned him against the door that he had backed into, trapping his body between the hard cold wood and mine. 

"Apologizing." I leaned my head in towards my brother's and lightly placed my lips on his. I closed my eyes and traced little kisses along his lips. Making only the lightest contact with his skin, I let my tongue slide over Jason's lips. It was more of a caress than a kiss. We barely touched, as the spring breeze touches your face, gently caressing and leaving a promise of more to come. Then bringing my hands up to his face and holding his head still, I moved back away from his face. Opening my eyes slowly I looked for a reaction from him; he was in total shock at what had happened. I smiled and rubbed my hands over his short hair before placing them around his neck, pulling forward slightly until his body pressed tight against mine. 

"Oh God, Kate! We shouldn't be doing this. You are my sister for heaven sake!" He pleaded as he tried to resist me. I held him firmly against me until he stopped trying to pull away. Even though he was my brother, it felt good to feel his strong body pressed tight against me. 

"Will you please stop talking and let your sister apologize." I said as he finished talking. I pulled my hands off his shoulders and slid them down his chest and to the top of his jeans, pulling his belt towards me. Fumbling with the buckle for a few moments, I finally managed to unbuckle it. All this time, we never took our eyes from the other's face, almost as if we were in a trance, and time stood still as we went through the motions. As I pulled the belt from his jeans and dropped it to the floor, I pushed the jeans down his legs before letting them fall to the floor. 

Keeping my hands against his firm male body, I knelt down until my face was level with his cock. Though still covered by his shorts, the outline of his manhood was clearly visible, as it pressed against the fabric. It looked like a long hard steel pipe. Running my hand up and down its full length, I felt it tremble, as if desperately trying to escape from captivity. I pulled off his boxers, allowing his dick to spring free. Gaining its freedom from his boxers, it stood straight and tall like a flagpole. He was standing naked from the waist down and I was on my knees before him. 

I reached out and firmly grasped his cock in my hand. The moment my hand touched his love pole, I heard him take in a sudden loud gasp of air and his mouth dropped open. His stomach tensed as if someone had punched him. His whole body jumped as if trying to jump out of his skin. 

"Oooh Kate." I heard him whisper. With my fingers wrapped around him, I slid my hand up and down its full length a couple of times. Holding him by the base, and with the head of his hard cock pointing right at my lips, the prize that I wanted was just inches away. I couldn't wait any longer to claim it. Opening my mouth wide, I suddenly leaned forward taking his whole cock in my mouth at once. Closing my lips around its base, I began licking softly round the head, as I tasted his pre-cum juices. I used my hand to squeeze his balls gently as I drew my tongue the full length of his throbbing cock. 

"Oh my good heavens! Kate what are you doing to me!" He yelled as he grabbed my head in both of his hands."Mmmmmmm" He moaned, loudly as I continued sucking on him. I smeared the head of his cock with my saliva. When I used my hand, it jumped at my touch but I held it tight. I began to work my hand up and down his shaft as I covered the head of his cock with my mouth. I had half of his cock in my mouth now. Sucking it hard, I used my other hand to reach up and cup his balls; massaging them as my tongue licked the underside of his pole. At the same time, I ran my teeth, bottom and top over his cock adding to the pleasure he obviously was receiving. 

"I'm gonna cum! Kate, I can't hold it any longer." He suddenly moaned. As he had been doing since I took his love handle in my mouth, he once again trembled and shook. I took a little more of his cock into my mouth, the tip now in my throat causing me to gag uncontrollably. I pulled it out and rubbed my hand over his cock. 

I gripped his cock tighter and rubbed it more forcibly. Seeing his whole cock start to quiver, I knew that he was only seconds away from exploding for the first time in a girl's mouth. I took it back into my mouth and closed my lips tightly around his girth. I didn't want to lose a drop. Suddenly, and just as I expected, his hips started to thrust up and within no time, I felt the first spurt of spunk hit the roof of my mouth. I continued to milk him until he had nothing left to give. When I lifted my head to look at him, he was smiling with closed eyes. 

"And now my dear brother, are you still mad at me?" I asked as I got up and looked in his eyes. 

"No! Not at all." He gasped. Even though I was now standing in front of him, my hands were still busy playing with his dick. Gently squeezing from time to time then massaging him as I moved my fist up and down its full length. I knew that my actions weren't making things any easier for him, but I didn't care, because I wanted to reinforce the pleasure he had just now experienced firmly in his mind. Even though he had just finished shooting a huge load into my mouth, he was still rock hard. Still trying to catch his breath, all he could do was to smile at me. 

"Thank you brother. It means a lot to me to hear you say that." I smiled as I took my hand from his dick and bending over, I picked up my robe. 

"I am going to the bedroom. If you want anything, just come to my room." I winked, giving him a little smile. I gave him a kiss on his cheek and turned the knob of the door. However, when I was about to open the door, he caught my hand and locked the door once again. 

"You can't leave me like this. Please, don't go." He pleaded. He looked in my eyes in a different way than usual and I never could resist him when he did that. I knew exactly what was going to happen in the next few minutes when I saw the look on his face. 

"It's good that you have apologized to me, but I think I should apologize too." He said smiling. Even though we had settled our differences, it was becoming almost a game. Each time one of us wanted to do something, we used the excuse of needing to apologize to the other person. He had caught on fast and now was going along with something that I had started. 

"Apologize for?" 

"For what I am going to do right now!" Putting his hands on my shoulders, he turned me around so that we were in a reverse position. My robe fell from my hands as he pinned me against the door. He placed his hands on each side of my waist, then sliding them around behind me; he reached around to my ass cheeks and began mauling them with his palms. He started licking me up from my chest to my mouth. He was very horny. A few minutes later, he stopped playing with my ass cheeks and placed his hands back on my waist. Now he slowly moved his hands up my tummy until he reached my bra. Sliding his hands up and over my heaving breasts, he lightly caressed and molded them into the shape of his hands by squeezing and massaging them. Reaching the top of my bra cups, he continued up all the while lightly caressing my flesh until reaching the upper most reaches of my breasts. Moving his hands together, he dug his wondering fingers deep into the crevice and slowly, ever so slowly began exploring that often ignored area between my now tingling breasts. My breathing was coming faster and faster, as he continued his feather light exploration of that part of the female body that holds so many men's attention captive. Watching his face, I saw that he had a slight smile, but his eyes never left the part of me that he was touching. Reaching the scanty garment that had been trying to protect me from all invaders; he dug his fingers in deep and easily forced his hands inside my bra cups. 




Apologize



"You have no idea how often I have dreamed of doing this to a girl. To feel a woman's breasts is like a dream come true." He moaned as he slid his hands inside my bra. I knew what was coming and had tried to steel myself for the moment his wondering fingers touched my nipples, but when that happened, the sudden rush of pleasure that cascaded throughout my body was more than I could have imagined. My whole body suddenly tensed, my mouth dropped open and my lungs demanded a huge gasp of air. For a moment, I thought my knees were going to collapse and they probably would have if he hadn't backed me up hard against the door. 

"Ohhh Jason." I managed to whisper. 

For the briefest of seconds his eyes flicked up to my face, then returned immediately to his hands. His smile widened slightly as he continued to force them down inside my bra. The bra was very skimpy so it was easy for him to lift my tits out of their protective covering. He gently squeezed and rotated his hands as he observed my breasts. His eyes got as large as saucers as he held me in his hands; these were the first breasts he had ever seen, other than pictures in men's magazines. For several moments, he stood there not moving, not saying a word, just staring my ample feminine charms. Not wanting to break the spell or interrupt his thoughts, I stood silently and waited to see what he would do or say next. I had to admit to myself that it did feel great to have him holding me that way. 

Finally, after taking a deep loud breath, and managing to get his mind working once again, he looked up at me and paid me what was probably the sweetest compliment anyone ever had. What made it so nice, was that it was not only what he said, but also because it was sincere and from his heart. 

"Oh, Kate, they are beautiful, so very beautiful. I always knew that you had large breasts, but I never dreamed that they were this big." For some reason known only to him, he released me and dropped his hands to his side. 

"Thank you for that beautiful compliment, Jason." I replied, unable to resist the urge to take in a deep breath, which only pushed my already ample chest out even further. I had to smile when I saw from the expression on his face, that he had noticed what happened when I did that. 

Moving his hands around to the underside of my breasts, he held them as if they were on display. He slid his hands up and down their length a couple of times with his fingers digging into the crack between them. The way he was supporting me; my nipples were now pointing straight at him. For the first time since uncovering me, he seemed to discover my nipples. Using only his thumbs, he massaged them while continuing to support the rest of my mounds. My nipples have always been one of the most sensitive spots on my body, and as usual, the moment he touched them, I felt a tingling rush the full length of my body. They were hard little points sitting proudly on top of my feminine mounds. He seemed to take great delight in pushing them back into my breasts, then watching them pop back out the moment he released them. His touch was so light and gentle, even my areolas were responding, as the little ridges around them grew in size, as if trying to protect the little caps sitting atop my feminine mountains from this invader. Their action was to no avail, as those two hard mountain caps now held his full attention. He had discovered them and now was determined to fully explore and enjoy his newfound treasure. Releasing my boobs, he took each cap between thumb and forefinger and lightly rolled them from side to side, squeezing but not hard enough to hurt, just enough to bring another wave of pleasure to my already trembling body. 

"I have seen pictures of women's breasts in magazines." He admitted. "I have dreamed of doing something else if I was ever with a girl, and I hope you won't mind." 

"No Jason. I'm sure I won't mind, whatever it is." 

Moving his hands back to supporting me, he leaned forward slightly. I had a feeling what he had in mind but I was unable to prepare myself for the shock. He slowly dropped his head onto my chest, and with his lips, began to suck my nipples. They immediately grew to the size of the tips of his index fingers. 

"OooooHHHHHHH" I moaned the first time I felt his lips on my sensitive nipple. My body was fast taking over control, as he continued to stimulate me to even greater heights of pleasure. I couldn't believe that he was a virgin; he seemed to know exactly what he was doing and how to do it. Sometimes I could feel him sucking on a nipple as a baby does, other times he used his tongue to lick and caress each of them. Leaving his mouth firmly gripping the hard nipple on one of my jugs, he began to run his hands all over my body. He couldn't seem to get enough of touching me, and I'll admit I was glad he felt the way he did. I think that I was enjoying his touch and the way he explored my body almost as much as he was. 

After enjoying my breasts with his mouth for several intense minutes, he paused, looked deep into my eyes for several seconds, but never said anything. His next action completely surprised me. He slowly slid down to his knees and did something that I've never had done to me before, but I hope to relive the experience someday, it was very erotic. One by one, he picked up my legs and put them over his shoulders. I was now sitting in reverse position on his shoulders and my already moist pussy was so close that his nose was almost poking me. 

"Hold on-- let's go somewhere more comfortable." I started to reach out to take hold of his hand and then suddenly a better idea came to my mind. Instead of holding his hand, I grabbed hold of his hard cock that was sticking straight out from his hips. He flinched a little as my fist closed around his manhood but offered no objection. Maintaining a firm grip on his pole, I led him over to the bed. Careful so as not to hurt him, I used his love sword like a steering wheel to maneuver him into the position I wanted, then I leaned forward and pushed him back so he sat in the middle of the bed. "Swing around so you are lying in the middle." I instructed as he hurried to do as I asked. 

"Like this?" He asked. 

"Yes, that's perfect. Now prepare to receive the experience of your life." I said mysteriously, giving him a wink. Placing my legs on the bed, I crawled on my hands and knees on the bed over to where he is lying. Standing, I placed one leg on each side of my brother's body, and started to sit down until my pussy was just above his cock. The close my pussy lips came to his stiff cock, the larger his eyes became. Pausing for a moment with the pointed tip of his manhood almost brushing my lips, I reached down and spread my open crotch panties apart. Taking his sword in my other hand, I lowered myself until the point was barely touching me. His eyes followed every move I made and were now almost the size of saucers as I think he began to realize what was about to happen. Moving his love handle up and down, I massaged my already puffy moist lips, gradually settling down further as I forced him into my slit. I knew that I was ready for him, but I wanted to prolong the suspense, the joy for him as long as I could. Finally, and with his pointed head firmly embedded within my pussy, my brother was about to experience the dream of every teenage boy. Hesitating for a moment, I looked into his expectant eyes, and then as I sat down, I felt his cock slide deep into my pussy. 

Instantly, his mouth fell open as he yelled, "Ohhh Kate! I never dreamed it would feel this good." 

Stretching out my legs, I went down more so that my brother's dick was now fully inside me. Slowly, I lifted my body up, pulling about three inches of his cock out, his eyes glued to the action between my legs, as he watched my inner lips also being pulled out. Then I suddenly relaxed my leg muscles, allowing me to drop down hard against his hips. His cock rushed up my love tunnel like a steaming locomotive, spreading my walls apart like an angry invader. Not stopping until it reached my innermost depths, he had me completely impaled on his sword. 

"Oooh my! You're so smooth, so hot and wet it feels like I am sliding on silk." I heard him murmur between gasps. Jason started to moan loudly from his first experience of a woman. Smiling, to think that I could give him this much pleasure, l continued my movements, raising up, and then sliding back down, each time tightening my inner muscles to grip my brother's dick hard. I wanted to create the most pleasurable sensations for him that was possible, especially since this was his first intimate experience. My body was beginning to respond, with waves of pleasure starting to flow in every direction from every little vain and ridge on his hard stabbing cock that was massaging the walls of my love channel. This encouraged me to grip him tighter and to increase my speed, as I continued to bounce up and down on his hips. 

Leaning forward, I slid my hands and arms around my brother's back for support as I moved up and down on his cock. Resting on my elbows, I was only inches from his lips. Bringing my mouth to his, I started kissing him all over his face. After coming down extra hard, and driving his steel rod deep up into me, he let out a loud moan. In a split second, I forced my tongue into his mouth, caressing his tongue as firmly as his pelvic bone was massaging my love bud. Pulling back, I lightly trailed a path across his lips then pressing my tongue back into his mouth every time he moaned. Jason, although not experienced, was more than willing to follow my lead. He also started to kiss me, sliding his tongue around mine as we moved as one. 

He continued to jab in and out of me at ever-increasing speed and intensity. Feeling his soft lips pressing against mine, didn't help either, as more and more waves of pleasure were beginning to assault my mind. Without knowing what he was doing, he dragged my body higher and higher, until I stood at the very edge of the cliff. Deep in my heart, I knew that at any moment, any word or special movement from him would be enough to push me over the crest, and true to his nature, he didn't disappoint me. 

"Ooooohhhh God aaaaahhhh yessssss!!!" I moaned, as I continued sliding my brother's cock deep and hard into my pussy. Suddenly he threw his arms around me, holding me tight, as he rammed his hips up hard to meet me as I was coming down. Holding both of us suspended in mid air, he wiggled his hips sideways, creating a new and very intense sensation, as his rod rubbed against my throbbing love bud. This was more than I could stand, and within seconds, my juices flowed all over my brother's cock and thighs, and down onto the bed. 

"Yes! YES! Oh my YES!"I screamed. My whole body trembled, as my muscles seemed to try to tense up and relax at the same time. The suddenness and the intensity of my orgasm sucked my breath out of me, and my eyesight went blurry for a few seconds. There were a few moments when I didn't know where I was. Time seemed to stand still as something transported me into another world, a world of pure, indescribable pleasure. 

After such an intense orgasm, my body went limp and I fell beside him. For several minutes, he held me in his strong arms, as my senses started to return and I gradually began to calm down. I knew that he was carefully watching me as I returned to normal, but I was too exhausted to feel embarrassed for the way my body had betrayed me. Summoning all my strength, I looked up at him and gave him a feeble smile. "Whew, that was unreal. Are you sure you have never made love to a girl before?" 

His only answer was to smile broadly. I guess it pleased him to think, that even though this was his first time, he had managed to bring such great pleasure to me. However, he was not tired nor was he finished. He rolled over and got on top of me. Smiling down at me, with a look in his eyes I'd never seen before, he leaned down and very tenderly kissed me. At first, his lips only lightly grazed mine, as light and tender as a feather; however, as we started kissing more passionately, I felt his tongue probing my lips as if seeking permission to enter. With no hesitation, I opened my mouth slightly and felt him immediately enter. He explored every crevice and fold, and seemed in no hurry to leave. At the same time, he took his palm and placed it on my right breast. His fingers lightly squeezed my large feminine offering, tweaked and played with my nipple. I moved a bit to the side and grabbed his hard cock with my palm. He took in a large gasp of air and I felt his stomach muscles briefly tense, as I took hold of his love rod, but he continued kissing me. After enjoying my lips for few minutes, he slowly parted his lips from mine. I missed the warm feel of his lips gently pressed against mine, but he soon diverted my attention elsewhere. 

Our eyes locked together as one, as he slowly moved to the bottom of the bed and placed his hands on either side of my legs. I stuffed a pillow under my head so I could see what he had in mind to do next. He lightly started running his hands over my legs, as he began to kiss up the calf of one leg, then moved to the other and did the same. Then, slowly raking his fingernails up my inner thighs, followed by tender nibbles with his lips, he was sending little thrills the full length of my body. All the time he was getting closer and closer to my sweet pussy. My body was still hypersensitive from the huge orgasm of a few minutes ago, so it magnified any sensation a hundred times. His hands moved up the outsides of my thighs rubbing my soft skin lightly, making me moan out in pleasure, as his lips drew ever closer to my pussy. He took great pleasure in teasing me for few minutes by inching closer to my pleasure center, and then with a smirk, he would pull further away. Even though it was maddening to have him torment me this way, I could feel tensions starting once again to build deep within my love center. 

When the great moment finally arrived, I cried out with sheer joy as his lips made contact with my puffy tender pussy. He never hesitated in his exploration of my body, as he parted my cunt lips with his fingers, and immediately shoved his long tongue as far up me as he could. This brought a gasp and a loud moan from me as my body involuntarily reacted to his sudden invasion. After his initial and unexpected entrance, he backed away and began to lick inside my love cavern with all the tenderness of an experienced lover. I could only lay there as I felt him gently explore every fold and crevice that lay hidden behind my pearly gates that he was holding open. For the next few minutes, he focused his attention on licking and flicking his tongue on my pulsating clit. 

"Ohhh my God brother!" I called out as my brother's tongue expertly worked its way up inside my pussy, lapping up my juice as it went. Using long strokes of his tongue, he licked the length of my open and swollen pussy lips. His nose was rubbing my clit as he moved his tongue back and forth. He gripped my thighs tightly, as he guessed that I could cum any second. The way he was pushing my body to its limits, I felt that I was in heaven. Every little flick he made drove me closer and closer to my final release. 

"Omg! Baby here it comes!" I shouted as I slammed my thighs around my brother's head holding him in place. Grabbing the back of his head, I pushed his face hard into my pussy. Within seconds, that torrent of cum that shot out of my pussy had covered my brother's nose, mouth, lips and cheeks. Quickly, he licked my pussy clean as I thrashed on the bed from the intensity of my explosion. Relaxing a little, I released my brother's head from the grip of my thighs. He quickly kneeled up on the bed between my outstretched legs, and looked down at me as I struggled to catch my breath. My mouth was wide open as I tried to speak, but no noise came out. 

"Kiss me!" I finally managed to gasp. He leaned forward and our lips met. Joined once again were the lips that had just explored each other's most intimate parts. Now they were doing the dance of love. It seemed that no matter how much we kissed, we both had one thing in common, and that was that it was never enough. Our lips were like strong magnets, both drawn to each other. As he nibbled on my lips, nose and earlobes, I could feel passion starting to build once again. 

"You are so beautiful, so very beautiful." Leaning down, his lips caressed mine as gentle as a cool spring breeze caresses your cheek. 

As we kissed, I felt my brother's cock push against my pussy lips. It was purely an involuntarily action, but as I felt his hard manhood press against my tender lips, I jumped. 

"Sorry!" said Jason. "Are you still tender?" 

I smiled. "Not so tender that I don't want that inside me." I whispered, as I grabbed my brother by the neck and pulled him down to kiss my lips again. Reaching down between our bodies, I took hold of his cock and began to guide it towards my open pussy. Sliding the head of his cock up and down my crack, when I felt it bump up against my waiting love bud, I knew that I was in the right position. I moved my hips up a little and was finally able to press my brother's cockhead into my waiting pussy. That same pussy that had desperately wanted to have something other than a probing tongue pushed inside of it. It was about to get its wish. 

"Fuck me brother. Fuck me hard! "I moaned as he carefully eased the head further inside my pussy. I was still moist from our previous encounters, so he slid in quite easily. The feel of only his head entering me was enough to make me want to orgasm again. What would it feel like when I had his whole penis buried deep within me? He leaned on his arms and arched his back, slowly pushing himself deep into me, stopping only when his pubic bone hit my clit. I thought I was moist before, but that was nothing, compared to the amount of juice that was now coating his cock. Juices were running down his cock and all over the bed. My pussy struggled to stretch enough to accommodate the invader that had forced its way deep into my innermost reaches. I felt as full as I do after eating a huge meal. My love tunnel walls firmly gripped him as if wanting to hold him there permanently. 

"Kate! You are so tight! I can feel you gripping me like a tight glove. You are so hot and smooth; it's like sliding on a satin sheet." He said, as he wiggled his hips, trying to work his cock even deeper. He stopped all motion and held himself firmly embedded within me. The only thing this accomplished was to continue to press firmly against my already exposed love bud. It reacted by promptly sending huge waves of pleasure to my brain. Then he slowly pulled out until he only had his cockhead enclosed within my grasping pussy lips, then pushing back inside, he soon had a rhythm going that I struggled to match. 

"I... Know Brother... just fuck me harder!" I managed to moan out between cries of pleasure as I felt an orgasm build inside me, as his pubic bone smashed against my clit. Pausing for a moment, he took my legs and put them up over his shoulders, making the penetration even deeper. We were both sweating hard, and our bodies stuck together. I had never experienced a fucking like this. The feelings inside me were so intense and varied that I couldn't begin to describe them. All I knew was that I never wanted this to stop. My senses were overwhelmed as wave after wave of pleasure cascaded throughout my body. He varied his routine by leaning forward and sucking hard on my super-sensitive nipples, while other times he covered my mouth and face with tender loving kisses. Never once did he stop his unrestrained massaging of my most tender of all regions with his hard love pole. Each time his love rod made its mad dash up inside of me, he seemed to touch new places, to ignite different nerve endings that added to the already overwhelming waves of pleasure that were assaulting my mind. 




Apologize



"Oh yes!" I screamed as I felt a massive orgasm suddenly burst inside me, like a bomb exploding. My pussy again flooded everything with juice, as my brothers' cock powered its way in and out of the tight opening. My breasts were jiggling as the bed rocked from the furious sex that was taking place on it; both our bodies were bouncing off each other. 

"I'm gonna cum!" He loudly announced as he slowed down a little with his thrusting and began to let his cock throb inside my body. 

"Yes, little brother, yes! Fuck me! Cum inside me!" I screamed, as I pounded my heels against his back. 

He didn't need any more encouragement; with renewed strength, he began to fuck me again. I screamed out, as my brother seemed to grow bigger inside me. It felt like I was going to burst, he felt so huge; as his raging manhood continued to rush up inside me. Using muscles I had forgotten I had, I was able to feel the veins on his cock rub against the walls of my pussy. 

He had pushed me to my limits and was holding me constantly on the edge of another explosion. "Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!" I cried out as I felt the blast shoot deep inside me, coating my walls with his love cream. Then another one and another, my pussy was beginning to get full, as Jason pumped more hot and thick cum into my body. Overflowing, our mixed juices were soon flooding all over the sheet below us. He moaned as the last little trickle seeped out. 

Finally releasing my legs from over his shoulders, and totally exhausted, I let my legs flop onto the bed besides where he had collapsed as he lay on top of me. I lay there with my arms wrapped around him, holding him as close to me as I could. For several moments, neither of us said a word as we both struggled to calm down. "Oh, that was so good. I am so glad that we apologized to each other on this beautiful day." I winked, as I let go of him so he could roll off to the side. Lying on his back, he turned and looked at me for a second, before pulling me towards him as he gave me a long, tender loving kiss. 

"Thank you Jason. You just gave me the best Valentines Day gift that any girl has ever received. I'll never forget this moment, as long as I live." 

"You're welcome, my dear. I'll never forget what you have given me either. You gave me the best gift ever, the gift of yourself." 

As much as I hated to admit it, I knew that all good things must end. Our mother would soon be home and I sure didn't want her to catch me naked in his arms. 

"I guess you don't have any more doubts about me being straight?" Jason asked. 

"No, not at all!" I truthfully answered. 

"That's good." He smiled. "I am thinking about whether we can...you know." He was trying hard to search for words to express his desires, but I knew his intentions. 

Well, anytime you want to apologize for anything ever again, at anytime, just come to my room." I answered his unasked question with a sweet smile and a knowing wink. 

"Really!" He asked with more excitement in his voice than I'd heard in a long time. 

"Yes really." I answered solemnly. It was plain that he understood what I was really saying. Now don't forget that Mom will be back soon. You better clean up your sheets you messy boy." I said, giving him a sexy wink, as I was about to leave the room. 

"Sister!" 

"Yes honey?" I replied, turning to look back at him sitting there on his bed. 

"I love you!" 

"I love you too honey." Without saying another word, I picked up my nightgown and left his room. I could hardly see to make it back to my bedroom; my eyes had suddenly filled with tears of joy from hearing those three beautiful little words he said to me.



Apologizing to Mom



The relationship between me and my mother has always been strained. Now, with my face buried between her legs, I feel like things could be looking up.

I go to college about a two-hour drive away from my hometown. I couldn't wait to move, either. Nothing was ever easy with Mom; she'd turn every little argument into a full-blown crisis. Throughout high school, she hated every girl I ever dated. It seemed like I was always the preferred target when it came to exorcising her daily frustrations, and I was sick of the drama.

So, I traded a full-ride scholarship at a local college for considerably lower financial aid at someplace further away.

Now, I live with a girlfriend who has evidently decided that she will not fuck me anymore. Mom lives with my stepdad, a straight-laced band director at a private Christian school. I'd be willing to bet they don't fuck all that often, either. It's Thanksgiving break and I could use some distance from the girlfriend, so I make the drive home to surprise the family. 

We live in the Northwest, so there's already snow and frigid, biting cold wherever you go. My car is not equipped for snow, and I'm sliding all over the place for the majority of the drive. It takes longer than I expected, and soon night falls. I can hardly make out the road, so it's a small miracle that I arrive at Mom's house without slamming into a snowbank.

I'm shivering violently as I step out of my car's comfortably heated interior and walk down the driveway towards the front door. I ring the bell and stand there, holding my arms tight over my chest and trying not to freeze. It takes her awhile, but eventually Mom answers. She looks happy and surprised, and once I step inside and the door's shut behind me, she wraps her arms around me.

"Hi, sweetheart! I had no idea you were coming down!" she says.

I say, "I didn't really either, not until this morning."

She's so warm compared to the outside air. It feels amazing. I hug her back and squeeze a little. It's a happy side-effect that the gesture squishes her tits up against my chest, and I can't help but take notice. They're huge, always have been.

At 42, Mom looks pretty good. She's about a head shorter than I am with a slightly chubby hourglass frame. She's got reddish-brown hair and pale blue eyes. Wide hips and a rack to match them. Not a supermodel, by any means, but not far enough away from one to prevent her from becoming the object of my teenage fantasies.

Somehow, the fact that she could be an overbearing bitch never took away from that. In fact, sometimes it made her all that more appealing to me . . .

"Where's your husband?" I ask.

She tells me that the school's band is performing at some out-of-town competition, and he'll be back in two days.

We make our way to the couch and initiate the standard small talk. Eventually though, like it always does with her, it starts to turn ugly. She launches into a rant about how my new girlfriend seems like a slut. If only that were true.

But then she brings up the scholarship and how it would have been much smarter to stay here for college.

"Why did you want to get out of this town so badly?" Mom asks.

Already on edge from the drive, I can't stop myself from giving her an honest answer. 

"Because I needed to get away from you," I say coldly.

She's hurt, and it's immediately apparent. There's tears and everything escalates from there until she storms off, declaring that she's going to bed. Growing up, I was usually the one who did the storming off. I feel bad. I'd like to think it's not usually in my nature to be an asshole, but there's nothing good about what I said.

After wallowing on the couch for awhile, I doze off. Maybe it's the lack of action back at college, but I've been having weird, intense sex dreams lately. Usually about my girlfriend or one of the attractive women I catch my self ogling in class. But tonight, it's about Mom.

She's so damn warm, and we're hugging just like we did earlier. Only now, she's not wearing any clothes. Her skin is hot and soft to the touch, and her breasts are now pressing firmly into me. She reaches down and grabs my wrists, guiding my palms to brush against her nipples. She kisses me on the neck, and the little hairs back there stand up. 

I can't take it anymore, I want her now. I take her face in my hands and bring my lips hard against hers. She slips the edge of her tongue between my lips and I meet it with mine. 

Moving my hands back to her magnificent tits, her long nipples are growing so hard. But the kiss ends, and as our faces pull away, I see that she's crying.

"I'm sorry," I hear myself say. "I didn't mean it." But she begins to slowly back away, sobbing and slowly shaking her head.

I wake with a sudden gasp. There are so many feelings running through my bones, and I look down to find a powerful, throbbing erection trapped against my pants. I feel like I'm in a trance. 

I can't remember the last time I was this turned on. Hell, I can't remember the last time I was this weirded out.

Aside from my early teenage years, when I jerked off to just about anything with tits, I haven't thought of my mother in a sexual way for a very long time.

But I have to go tell her I'm sorry.

I walk softly from the couch to her bedroom door and open it, trying to make as little noise as possible. She's sleeping on her side with her back turned to me, wearing what looks like a bra and nothing else on top.

What am I doing?

I unzip my pants slowly and let them fall around my ankles. I take off my shirt and crawl delicately under the covers next to Mom. I'm still wearing boxers and my erection had started to subside just a little, but as soon as I cuddle up to Mom and make contact with her warm ass, it's back in full force. I lay an arm over her stomach, just beneath her breasts, and pull her close to me.

"Mom," I whisper, "are you awake?"

She doesn't respond and her breathing is steady. Carefully, I unhook the clasp of her bra and remove it, tossing it over the side of the bed. Immediately, I cup her tits, feeling their satisfyingly heavy weight. I brush my thumb over her nipple, and she responds by gasping a little and sleepily pushing her ass into my crotch.

I run my hands down her side and feel the lining of her panties. I bring my lips to her neck and plant a few soft kisses. Her breathing quickens a little, and she makes little cooing noises with each one. 

When I was little and it was just me and Mom living together in a tiny apartment, I remember that she used to walk around naked sometimes. She wore her pubic hair in a thin, neat little strip. I wonder if she keeps it the same way now, and I can't stop myself from finding out.

My hand travels further down, fingers brushing against her soft pubic hair, still trimmed in a straight line. I follow it with the tips of my fingers.

I've come this far, haven't I?

The fingers find their way to her pussy lips, slightly moist and blazingly warm. I continue to plant the kisses on her neck and begin to slowly rub two of my fingers up and down the middle of her slit. Now her breathing is heavy, and the cooing noises are turning into low moans.

"Mom, I'm really sorry about earlier," I breathe into her ear, stopping to nibble on the lobe. "I'm sorry about everything. I wish we got along better. Will you let me make it up to you?"

I focus on her clit, pressing a little harder and making slow circles. She's waking up, and I think it's starting to dawn on her that her son is rubbing her pussy.

"Baby, no . . ." she starts, but I bite her neck and cut her sentence short, turning the "no" into a long, loud moan. "I'm your mother," she manages to get out.

"I know, Mom. Nobody will know but us." She's definitely losing this battle, and I decide to get a little bolder. "Mom, I want to see what you taste like," I whisper. "I would really love to lick your pussy."

She gives a little shudder at that last word, probably surprised to hear me talk like that. I continue to rub and she begins involuntarily writhing against me, rubbing her ass up and down the length of my erection.

I can tell she's weighing the decision, but at this point it's not a fair fight. "O . . . Okay," she breathes, and she definitely sounds conflicted about it. 

I kiss my way down her back, down her butt, and roll her over on her back, now laying on my stomach in between her legs. I reach up and gently squeeze her tits, and I'm pleased to feel those same rock hard nipples against my palm. I think it sends her over the edge.

She takes her own hand, places it in my hair, and pushes me down towards her vagina. I tease her slit through her underwear with light licks, and begin to slowly pull down her panties with my teeth. She gets frustrated and raises her legs up higher, allowing me to take them off entirely.

"Just do it baby," she moans. "Do it. I love you so much. Make me come, sweetheart."

I go to work, making light circles around her clit with the tip of my tongue before starting longer, rhythmic licks. She still tastes sweet and the scent of her pussy is driving me wild. 

It doesn't take her more than a few short minutes, and her ass raises off the bed as her legs tremble with orgasm, thighs tightening around my face. I keep licking all the way through it, getting her juices all over my chin. As she comes, she lets out long breathy sighs. On my stomach, my erection is drilling a hole in the bed.

She settles down eventually, legs occasionally spasming while I continue to plant light kisses on her pussy. She's making long "Mmmmm" noises, and I look up to find a dazed, satisfied smile on her face.

I kiss my way back up to her tits and stop to suck on her long, hard nipples. She pulls me up gently until we are face to face. With her eyes open and firmly fixed on mine, she starts to lick her juices off my lips. It leads to a long, deep kiss, our tongues slowly swirling around one another.

Through my boxers, my aching erection is resting against the opening of her soaked pussy. She reaches down suddenly and squeezes it through the underwear. With our tongues still wrapped together and our open mouths locked, I can't help but let out a moan.

At that, she takes me by surprise and rolls me over onto my back, straddling me between her smooth legs and giving me a clear view of her naked, shapely body. Her massive tits hang over me, with large areolas spreading outwards from pointed nipples.

The sight drives me crazy. I sit up a little, cupping her breasts with both hands and bringing my lips to her left nipple. I suck on it forcefully and roll the other one between my thumb and forefinger.

Mom runs her hands through my hair while I suck, folding them behind my head and keeping my face engulfed in her cleavage. She's breathing in with sharp gasps and letting out low moans. 

Eventually, though, she puts her hands on my shoulders and pushes me firmly down, my head resting back on the pillow. Her hands begin to trail downwards, nails dragging against my abdomen.

"Get those off, sweetheart," she says, tugging at the waistband of my boxers. I don't disobey, and she lifts up a little so I can get rid of them. She puts her palms on my chest for support and grinds her pussy lips over my bare cock a few times, smiling down at me with each compulsory moan that escapes my mouth.

Soon, she kisses her way down my chest and takes me into her mouth, slowly sucking her way further down the shaft and holding it there for a few seconds. Her mouth is wet and warm, and the blowjob is completely uninhibited. 

She starts at an achingly slow pace, the soft ring of her lips moving up to the tip and a little further down the shaft with each bob. Gradually, she picks up speed, slurping even more forcefully. It's sloppy, with plenty of wet smacking noises as she bobs up and down.

Without a doubt, my mother is currently giving me the single greatest blowjob of my entire adult life.

With a sudden pop, she lets me out of her mouth and asks, "Where do you want to come, baby?"

This is too fucking good to be true. I'm so close, I can't imagine it would take long wherever. But I still haven't felt her pussy from the inside.

"Inside you," I say.

She crawls up with and gives me a soft kiss before rolling over onto her back beside me. I follow, positioning my cock between her legs. I bury my face into her neck and slip into her, making her gasp. I am so close to coming, I can't afford to do anything but move in and out of her with slow, deliberate thrusts.

Her pussy is still tight, and it grips my cock as well as any other college-aged one.

Mom doesn't seem to mind when I tell her I'm going to come soon. She's digging her nails into my back as she whispers into my ear, "Come baby. Come inside Mommy."

I lose it, and I see stars as the first wave of orgasm pulses through my erection and sends a violent eruption of sperm into her pussy. I thrust in and out faster and harder, spurt after spurt of cum filling Mom up. From the noises she begins to make, I think she's close to another orgasm, too.

When I think I'm done coming, I drag my lips across her breasts and find her nipple again, this time holding it between my teeth and using the tip of my tongue to tease it. I thrust three more times, hard. That does it, and she wraps her legs hard around me, holding me deep inside of her as her orgasm hits. 

Her hips buck wildly and her pussy pulses. She moans loudly over and over again, "I'm coming! I'm coming baby! You're making Mommy come!" I keep thrusting as hard and as fast as I can for what feels like minutes until finally, she collapses.

After laying intertwined together for a few more minutes, I kiss her neck and roll over. She rolls over, facing the other direction, and presses back against me, my fading erection nestled in between her butt cheeks. My cock is absolutely soaked.

There's no tension left between us anymore. I can't feel it.

"Mom?" I ask, laying my arm over her like before and cupping her breast. "If you want our relationship to be better, and you don't want us to fight so much, I think maybe doing this would help with that."

"I think so too, baby," she says sweetly. Without turning over, she reaches back and takes my penis in her hand. 

She begins to stroke me as she says, "Get hard again soon. We have a lot to make up for."