2 comments/ 19157 views/ 1 favorites The Evolution of Emily Ch. 01 By: Nymphagirl1 Special thanks to Le Gourmand for editing this story. * Emily Johnston was 19 years old. Brushing her bangs out of her eyes she heads out of the kitchen, glass of water in hand and trudged up the stairs. Her day old pajamas wrinkled and creased, hanging limply from her thin frame. If one could have seen her 6 months ago, one would never believe she was the same girl. Her parents, Ron and Jessica were at this very minute sitting in their bedroom, and as usual she was the topic of their discussion, a rather intense one, at that. 'Ron, we've got to do something, we can't just let her keep lying around doing nothing all day. It's just not good for her. She should be out, in college making friends and having a life,' Sighing, Jessica looked over at her husband, wishing he'd take her words more seriously rather than with the usual aloofness. Was she the only one who knew that it was unhealthy, not to mention weird that a formerly bubbly, eager teenager would suddenly turn into a hermit? A lot of things could confuse and confound, presenting dead ends of thought, and it seemed that this was one such case for Jessica. 'Sweetie, have you tried talking to her? You're her mother and it's your job to get to the bottom of this. You're the only one who thinks she has a problem, I keep telling you to leave it alone, all teens go through this and she's fine. But no, you have to make this into a big deal. Leave the girl alone.' Ron crossed his arms, giving Jessica the same look usually reserved for parents disappointed with their children. It was obvious he was not pleased with whatever was going on right now. 'You're just annoyed we have to stay home to deal with this. I know we had plans for when you retired, but maybe it's partially our fault leaving her alone so much the last few years. Did you ever think of that Mr. Know-it-All?' 'You didn't seem to mind my retiring early when you could travel all over the world Jessica. You're her mother. If you thought of her back then instead of now, maybe we wouldn't be having this discussion,' Giving his pillows a few light punches Ron tried to get comfortable knowing he'd never get to sleep like this. Once Jessica got something on her mind, she didn't let it go. Lying flat on his back he quickly ran over their life in his mind, thinking where he might have went wrong, sighing out softly, shutting his eyes and sinking into the darkness. As stock broker he worked hard when his son was young, entrusting his rearing mostly to his wife who was more than happy to stay at home while he went out and made a living to keep food on the table. If only he knew what else she'd been doing on the side he might have been home more often, if only to make sure his wife didn't feel so neglected. A few months after his divorce, walking out of a restaurant with a client, he'd literally run into Jessica, and after striking up a conversation, they'd been with each other ever since. It must've been some kind of special chemistry between them. Her daughter Emily - 'Emma' as they called her at home - was only a few years younger than his boy and never made him feel less than he was her father, addressing him as 'dad' pretty much right after the wedding. A few smart business moves led him to hit gold, making him very, very wealthy before his 35th birthday, and he decided that day to work smart and not hard from then on. He took early retirement knowing with the money he had saved up they could live more than comfortably on the interest, while still traveling the world as both he and his wife had always dreamed of. The children were old enough to care for themselves by then, he'd thought, though he always made sure they could be reached at any time day or night and in the 4 years they were away they never even called once, giving the parents no reason to worry. 'I did my job, Jessica. I took great care of you and the kids, made sure they wanted for nothing, and gave them the best of everything. We know she isn't on drugs like half of the other kids in this neighborhood are, and we know it's not a boy since she wouldn't date any of these losers. What else can be wrong with her?' 'She's gorgeous, did great in school and has never had to worry a day in her life. I think you're making something out of nothing, hunny, just relax and try to get some sleep, we can talk about Emmy in the morning.' Ron took a deep breath, breathing only when he finished what he had to say. Turning over in bed and rolling her eyes, Jessica thought, that's it I've tried everything I know how, tomorrow I'm calling a therapist. She ruminated over the past years, wondering exactly where it all went to hell, but the hour was late and her mind soon drifted off to sleep, and she too went silent in the Sandman's embrace. *** Emily lay in bed preparing for another night of little to no sleep, as usual. Lying back against her pillows with her mind running through her day, she couldn't quite remember where all the hours went. One minute it was morning, the next it was time to go to bed. Wishing he, her beloved, were here to talk to, she plumped her pillow and tried again to drift off but every time she closed her eyes she saw his own. The softest of brown, his eyes were warm and inviting, yet capable of turning dark and hard in an instant. This she imagined in her mind's eye, shuddering when those eyes shook with punishing thunder, but feeling warm honey flow through her when they cleared and glowed radiant with inviting charm. Shaking her head to clear them away, Emily remembered with a reminiscent smile the feel of sitting in his lap, his arms lazily holding her about the waist, but she knew he wouldn't let her tumble out of them, if she ever slipped just because of sitting. Her head fit perfectly against his strong shoulder as if his body were meant for hers. In her mind, it was. It would always be that way. Warmth settled over her, creeping across her cool skin. Imaging his arms around her waist as they'd sat countless times in the past, wishing every single moment that passed counted for five more, she dozed off, still dreaming about how safe and secure she felt within the embrace of those strong arms. *** Getting home from a day full of classes, Emily bounced up the stairs, dropping her purse and books haphazardly behind her without looking back. Seated on her bed, she kicked off her shoes and brought her small foot up, kneading it with her thumbs. Feeling some tension ease out of her she did the same to the other, admiring her artfully painted toenails in the process. Baby blue and gentle to the eyes, they were playful yet beautifully done, not unlike everything else in her life. Glancing at the clock it was barely 4 pm and she knew she would have the house to herself for a few hours. She grinned to herself and walked to her closet and pushed aside some shoeboxes, as if looking for something, setting some aside and basically reaching to the far back and finding her prize. Nothing distinguished it from the others but for the fact that the shoebox was marked size 6 instead of the size 7 she actually wore. Asides from that, it was actually quite plain and ubiquitous being a plain tan, nothing that would attract the attention of any would-be thieves or snoopers. Heading to her armoire she hooked her finger into a tiny latch and the doors sprung open, revealing a 32-inch flat panel TV screen and an expensive DVD player. Picking out a DVD from her 'box of goodies', as she liked to call it, she grabbed the remote and went back to her bed, moving some pillows out of the way. Lying on her tummy, she started the movie, a little tingle of anticipation going through her, though this movie wasn't technically hers. She borrowed it - all right she stole it, and that made the anticipation even sweeter. She wanted to giggle to herself because of the sheer mischief in this act. Marcus had so many he'd never notice one missing would he? She didn't even know what this movie was called - it was tossed under his bed with his other pornos. Whatever it was, she'd been waiting the whole week for the chance to watch it. Static filled the screen and Emily thought that what she inserted might have just been some kind of blank disc, and she felt a tinge of disappointment begin to burn in her belly, but just as she was scooting forward to grab another DVD from the box an image of a blonde leaped on screen. Beautiful, with lush breasts she was seated on a chair, smiling up at the camera. Clad in nothing but slacks, she started to touch her breasts and giggled before covering her face. Suddenly a voice fills the silence, telling her to lower her hands and touch herself for him. Hey, that's Marcus, Emily thinks, and then scoots closer on the edge of her bed, a big grin on her face. The blonde did as she was told, nervously not looking up at the camera blushing from her breasts to her ears. 'Pinch those nipples, baby,' she hears and watches, riveted knowing where this would lead, but unable to look away. She'd never heard him like that, so manly and bossy. It awoke deeper, much more animalistic tendencies that stirred warmth in her loins. 'Lie down, and spread your legs,' again the girl doesn't hesitate and nether does Emily. She lies down across her queen size bed and lets her legs part, her little white panties starting to get wet. 'Touch it baby, over the panties...that's it good girl... really slowly over the panties." Soft moans fill her room as the blonde loses her shyness, clearly getting into being told what to do for the tape. Tentatively Emily brings her hand down following his directions; she suddenly felt shy though she has the house to herself and Marcus would never know what she's done. She gingerly ran finger on the outside of her panties up and down gently, her fingernail teasing her damp nether lips through the fabric. Her eyes were glued to the screen as she mimicked the blonde's every move, followed his every command. It was causing her heart to race, causing her slit to moisten with every passing moment. Finally, she pulled her panties off and flung them across the room and heard it hit the door with a soft thud of slightly moist fabric, sort of like a raw steak slapping against flesh. Her right hand snaked down her body again and using two fingers she separated her outer lips, allowing the fingers on her left hand to explore her pussy, stoking, probing, and pulling the folds gently. Nimbly moving them along her now-soaked pussy getting herself to the edge then pulling back never making a move the man on screen didn't order the blonde to. By the time the blonde was begging to be fucked, Emily was biting her lip to keep from screaming out in pleasure, her finger working her clit in fast circles. Her breasts felt heavy and full and her body was tight as a bow, aching for release before he finally set the camera down and stepped into its view. She moaned out longingly, wanting to feel his cock throbbing and pistoning deep inside of her, plunging deeper and deeper, stretching her wider and bringing them both to climax. Her thighs were wet with her sexual juices and sweat, and she stroked her clit faster and harder with each passing moment, the burning in her loins overwhelming already as she waited whatever cues she could take in order for her to stick a finger into her pussy already. She alternated between stroking her breast and thighs with her free hand, pinching and twisting the pink nub between her thumb and index finger, stroking over the pink skin of her areola and snaking down to her sweaty and moist thighs, each stroke edging closer and closer against her swollen pussy lips, the puffy skin just ripe for the stroking, and she gasped out softly as she felt the base of her thumb brush up against the outer lip of her labia. Her eyes still glued to the screen, she saw him. Gloriously naked, his body covered in a light sheen of sweat he was masculinity personified to Emily, at least in her eyes. From the way his muscles rippled as he stalked towards the begging blonde, to the way he gripped her in his powerful arms, pulling her to his chest and crushing his lips unto hers. Emily was riveted; this was better than any other porno she'd seen. Finally, he spread the blonde's thighs and buried himself inside her to the hilt in one thrust. Emily let her self go and plunged a finger inside her aching pussy and climaxing instantly, her walls clamping around her finger in a vice-like grip. Her eyes shut tightly; as her head tossed back in bliss, she knew she'd never look at Marcus the same way again. The Evolution of Emily Ch. 02 Special thanks to Le Gourmand for editing this story. * Doctor Hugh Williams was a very busy doctor. After studying hard all through high school and taking summer sessions all through college and med school, he opened his own clinic to practice psychiatry just outside of the downtown area. He treated all types of patients, from children to the elderly with equal measure and great zeal, causing his reputation to grow quickly amongst the sickly. It grew so fast in fact he had to turn people away at odd times - and that's with putting in 12- to 14-hour days - something he definitely did not enjoy. Luckily he had found a great space for his office, one that let him live right above it in a spacious 3 bedroom apartment negating the need for any kind of long and tiring commute to and from work. The morning started like any other, stepping into his office and helping him self with the coffee maker, the day's patients' files already on his desk, and he began filing through the first one. He liked arriving early, before the receptionists, and getting a feel for what his day was going to be like. Looking over his office, he smiled to himself, pleased with the job he'd done. Modern décor gave the room a modern feel with sleek chairs, furniture and lamps, all dubbed in a monochrome color, but with the careful arranging of a few accessories, flowers, and some throw pillows, that achieved the comfortable feel he knew put patients at ease. It was still homey despite the modernistic theme. Just as he laid back in his chair to pat himself on the back, he heard a bit of a commotion outside, some muffled arguing, and sighed, getting up to see what the ruckus was about. From halfway down the hall he could see out past the glass doors to what looked to be a very attractive middle-aged woman dragging what looked to be a malnourished, albeit more attractive teenager towards his doors by the elbow. This is going to be interesting, he thought to himself as he quickened his pace, seeing the older woman growing tired of the struggle. Just what I need, he thought, another anorexic princess taking up my valuable time when I already have a busy day. Opening the doors he cleared his throat to get their attention, 'Ladies, how may I help you? Please come in lest you start drawing a crowd.' he ushered them in hurriedly, looking around warily just to see if anyone had seen, and he was relieved that no-one seemed to have noticed. Both taken by surprise, Jessica used that to her advantage and quickly shoved Emily through the open door, closed it and stood in front of it and using her body to block the exit. Shoving her daughter to one side, she turned to face the doctor, 'Hello, my name is Jessica Johnston, and this is my daughter Emily. I heard you were the best of the best Doctor and came to ask you in person to please take Emily on as a patient. She's not been herself the last few months and her father and I decided it's time to take some action.' She paused, taking a deep breath, looking expectantly at the doctor. The doc looked between the mother and Emily, who was still glancing around the room for a possible escape passage; he tried to give his most reassuring smile, 'Hello Mrs. Johnston, hello Emily. I take it Emily doesn't feel like she needs to be here Mrs. Johnston, or do you always wrestle in parking lots?' His comment seemed to have an effect, and a small hint of a smirk looked just about ready to ruin Emily's scowl and he ushered them into the waiting room. It was important to him to engage Emily. She was the one who was to be his patient, and without her cooperation it was useless to try and treat her. Once they took their seats he sat near to Emily, and continues to speak to both of them. Letting a joke slip in here and there, using his young age to make her feel he was on her side, it seemed like he had all the charms needed. Excusing himself for a moment, Dr. Williams went to get a pot of coffee as his secretary let herself into the office and came back into the break room to apologize profusely for being late. He waved her off, reassuring her that she wasn't late and, telling her what to bring out, he went back in front and after a brief exchange of words with Mrs. Johnston, he asked her to leave Emily and come back after an hour, to which she nodded and left after giving her daughter withering look that quickly quelled any rebelliousness in her eyes. Ushering Emily into his office, he told her to make herself comfortable and showed her to a sofa, yes a sofa, so stereotypical but he found it really worked better than a chair. With the pretense of looking for a pen, he let himself really look her over, thinking he might have been rash in his initial assumptions. She was stunning. Something must have really happened to this girl to make her not care a wit about her appearance. Long espresso colored hair framed her face and hung down past her waist but was diminished when you saw the split ends. Her outfit, looked like something tossed on just for the sake of wearing clothing. A once white, wife beater style shirt over pale blue jeans that once hugged her hips but now slide down with every few steps she took. He knew thin was in with the celebrities these days, but surely this was a bit much? She can't have weighed 100 lbs, and she had to be at least 5'7. Pale blue flip flops completed the outfit, her delicate feet looking thin and fragile. Her toes like her fingernails were unpolished, but still he could say they were cute and dainty like the rest of her. Wondering again what she used to look like, and if he should ask for a photo next time her mother was here. 'No, Hugh that's not really needed' he chided himself. He couldn't explain it but something about her had gotten to him, and he wasn't used to feeling protective over his patients. 'How could you not want to protect her?' Looking more like a girl laying there then a woman, her lush undecorated lips slightly trembling he had to resist the urge to throw a blanket over her and warm her feet with his own hands. Instead he walked over and raised the thermostat, then took his seat opposite her, keeping a neutral expression on his face. 'Hello Emily, hopefully it warms up in here shortly. Let me be honest with you, I know you don't want to be here, and usually I won't take patients against their will,' Smiling at her he continued 'How about you come in for a few sessions, we just chit chat, and if you still don't want me to treat you then that will be that. I tell your mom you tried and she gets off your back, and you've got someone to talk to for what's left of the summer. How does that sound to you Emily?' Doc Williams leaned back into the couch, trying to appear relaxed for her benefit. Somewhat surprised he's asked her for an opinion Emily thought his offer over for a second, somewhat suspicious, somewhat disturbed and for the most part relieved. Most of the adults she knew tended to tell her what she was going to do, rather than ask her. She looked him over quickly and she realized he couldn't be that much older than her, and in a certain light, Doc Williams reminder her of him. Same body structure, not to thick not too thin, tall yet built, and for lack of a better word, rugged. In a faint voice she asked him, 'Really sir, you'd do that? All I want is for them to leave me alone.' 'Yes, Emily I would. After all, even though they're footing the bill you're my patient. It's your best interest I have in mind, and it's my job to make sure you have someone to talk to. We can talk about anything you want to talk about no matter how big or small. Nothing we discuss ever leaves the room and that's your promise from me. You don't have to talk to them about what happens here either,' he paused, steepling his fingers together, 'One last thing, please Emily don't call me Sir. I don't look that old do I?' he concluded with a coy grin, feeling her to be more at ease now with the present situation. 'Oh no sir - I mean Doctor, you don't look old at all, I'm so sorry bout that', Emily added quickly, half blushing through her apology and she wrinkled her dainty nose, half smirking, to keep from laughing. Through the veiled expression and banter, the false facades of childhood rebellion and confusion, the astute Doc Williams thought he just caught a small glimpse of the old Emily, and that there just might be hope for her after all. If you've liked what you've read, please vote. Thanks. The Evolution of Emily Ch. 03 "Thank you for all the awesome feedback everyone, glad to see your enjoying the Emily series as much as I am. Enjoy it,pass it around and oh yea..give it a vote please :) Special thanks to Le Gourmand for editing this story." Marcus arched his back, shaking his head, a bit of hair falling away off of his forehead and out of his eyes. It was dark in the room, and rays of light from a nearby streetlamp cut patterns on the bed illuminating the body of his lover, casting weird shadows across the gentle curves of her breasts. Plump and lush, they wiggled as he thrust into her, perhaps with more gusto than he had expected. Slowing down just a bit, he closed his eyes and focused on the feel of her pussy around his cock. Velvety and hot, just the thought made him throb as he took her thighs pushed them apart and stops. He looked down at her through hooded eyes, and she smiled up at him her brown eyes almost black, glazed and half shut with lust, the gleam of carnal desires sparkling like stars. Her lips, bright scarlet slashes against her dark skin. Flexing her muscles she pulled him back inside her pussy, her hands tugging at his hips desperately, a hungry little slut if he ever met one. Soft throaty moans echoed in the dark room, her nails digging into his skin as she pulled him inside her deeper, and harder. Tracing his hands up her body he takes her hands, linking his fingers through hers and pins them to the mattress, the feeling sending his mind wandering while his body worked hers on autopilot. *** Leaning back in his soft leather armchair, coming home from a movie-date Marcus wondered why he even bothered with girls at his university. Spoiled and overindulged, nothing really pleased any of them. He thought Sarah would at least excite him. Physically she was perfect. Tall and slim, she moved gracefully, the product of years of tedious dance classes. She had short blonde hair, the front framing her face and making her look like she just tumbled out of bed - a dye job most likely. Her blue eyes were like glass, beautiful and almost clear and he felt like he could get lost just staring into them. She had perfect breasts. They all did, did they go in groups? he wondered, one friend telling the others like they were going out to get pizza? Not too small not too large, 34Cs if he had to bet money on it. He remembered with a grin how she'd let him slide his hand under her tight cashmere sweater five minutes into the movie. It was both exciting and a bit of a disappointment at the same time. Where was the challenge in that? They both knew from the moment he picked her up that at the end of the night she'd be his, the movie more of a formality than anything else. A door slammed somewhere behind him, and he heard her drop her purse on the floor. 'Anyone home?' she yells, her cheery voice carrying through the empty rooms of the house. 'Yea back here Sis, I'm in the great room.' Her heels clicked arrogantly on the wooden floors, he could hear just where she was in the room without bothering to turn his head, 'You're getting home rather late aren't you? It's past midnight.' 'So? I went out with some friends what's the big deal?' she asked, quite exasperated at his inquiries. Sighing to him self, this had to be the fiftieth time they'd had this same conversation, and it was getting quite tiresome. Standing up, turning finally to look at her, his jaw drops in surprise, 'What the fuck are you wearing? Jesus Christ, Sis!' A bit taken aback, she'd never heard him raise his voice at her, she shrugged, feigning apathy, 'What? I'm wearing an outfit like everyone else's.' Still not sure what had come over her, he took a step back to really inspect her attire; a dark red tube top against her creamy skin, so tight the tops of her breasts looked about ready to spill out, the insubstantial fabric almost unable to contain them with only a few centimeters keeping her nipples from being exposed. Her long dark hair cascaded in gentle, artful curls down to her ass; the bangs long enough to fall against that band-aid she called a shirt. All it did was draw a sharp contrast between her porcelain skin and the almost espresso color of her hair. A black skirt sat low on her hips and very high up on her thighs, with the tops of a red G-string panties completing her teasing ensemble. She shifted nervously, and a glint of something sparkly at her navel caught his attention; a diamond teardrop dangling from a thin, almost invisible platinum barbell. If he weren't so angry he would have told her it looked beautiful on her, and he bit his lip to try and keep his composure, and this wasn't the time to compliment her. She was in serious trouble - he was too if he were being honest for not noticing what the little minx had been up to in the week since his parents left for Europe. 'That is not an outfit; I've seen hookers who wear more then that. You're 17, Sis, you can't leave the house in shit like that. Hell, you shouldn't even own anything like that. What the hell came over you?' he raged, trying his best to remain tough on her and he saw the beginning of tears well up in her emerald eyes, feeling like he wanted to hurry over and take her into the deep embrace of his strong arms. He gave her another look over, and he felt an odd sensation growing in his groin. What the hell was wrong with him? He was supposed to be mad at her, not get turned on. He didn't even realize how much he raised his voice until he saw the look in her eyes. Her lip quivered slightly, and she tried her best to be her usual cool self, 'All I wanted to do was look pretty like all the other girls I go to school with. So what if you hate my outfit? All the other boys who saw me in it seemed to love it. They kept coming over to me to tell me how great I looked tonight.' 'That's the problem Sis, you look to damn good in that outfit,' he blurted without thinking, knowing instantly he was in murky waters, and wishing he hadn't blurted that out. 'I do?' She looked up at him, a small smile creeping across her rouged lips. Marcus quivered underneath his pants, not being able to make heads or tail what that smile meant. 'Yes you do, now go upstairs, take that shit off and bring it down to me when you're done! You're never wearing something like that again, do you understand?' he ordered, crossing his arms across his chest. Bursting into tears she ran, to her room and he thought he heard the door slam upstairs and something crash to the floor. One of those damned porcelain dolls of hers most likely. He sank back into his chair, sighing out loudly as he ran his fingers through his hair, not quite sure what he would do once she came back. A small part of him loved the outfit, but a larger part of him knew it was wrong to look at her that way. He'd probably burn in hell just thinking about it. He was supposed to take care of her, not lust after her like a pervert. For God's sake he was older than her, her step-brother to boot, and his parents would never have left in him charge if they had an inkling of the thoughts that had been passing through his mind since she'd turned 16 and started to blossom right before his eyes. He guessed these thoughts always lurked in the back of his mind, festering like an ugly growth under an overhang, right where he couldn't quite see until these thoughts finally gave birth to a strange lusting that lived inside his mind. He didn't know how long he was thinking, but he was startled by her voice from behind, 'Marcus, please don't be mad at me' her small almost childlike voice near his ear, so lost in his thoughts he didn't hear her until she was right behind of the chair he was sitting. Shaking his head and still unwilling to look at her, 'I'm madder at myself than you sis, it's my job to keep an eye on you and clearly I wasn't doing my job,' he bit down on his lip chewing on it and clenching his fist. Much as he hated to admit it, he was beginning to get nervous around her. 'No, it's all my fault Bro, please let's just forget this ever happened,' she said softly, taking his hands away from his hair, she set herself down onto his lap and wrapping him into a big hug, the last thing he needed in his current state of mind. 'Ugh, what am I going to do with you, brat? You're going to drive me crazy,' his knuckles white where his nails dug into the skin of his palm, the feel of her so close making him quiver almost imperceptibly. 'Just keep giving a shit Marcus, no one else cares what I do, it's one of the things I love about you actually,' she spoke faintly, still a hint of the tough girl from earlier, but a lot more subdued now. Small and warm, she felt so good he couldn't resist wrapping his arms around, her head fit perfectly against his chest. Finally opening his eyes, taking a breath to keep his composure, it was almost as if another girl came down those stairs, not the one who walked in dressed like a hooker from earlier. Gone was the hooker and here was his sweet baby sis. Her eyes seemed almost brighter after the tears he'd caused with his anger, and without that dreadful makeup she was just beautiful, just hints of smudged eyeliner where her tears ran down her face. Her clear skin always had a glow and her cheeks had the perfect tint of pink making her look so young and pure he had to keep himself from covering them in small feathery kisses. Dropping his eyes, he smiled in spite of himself at her pajamas. Soft yellow, printed in little rubber ducks he'd given her the nightdress when she was 12 or so. The fact that she still wore those pajamas tugged at his heartstrings, the proverbial warm, fuzzy feeling growing inside of him because of it. That was so long ago, yet, the memory still fresh in his mind, and he was surprised she still fit into it despite her womanly curves becoming generous in their proportions. The fabric was stretched across her breasts, just an outline of her nipples showing telling him she'd come down sans bra. Her long legs curled up higher, her knees just above his belly and the nightie rose up with them, barely covering her pubic bone. She should be wearing panties, she can't be sitting in my lap naked under there, can she? Marcus thought to himself, careful not to let his eyes wander too much, lest she notice. Marcus ran a hand over her hair and felt her body relaxing against him. She was so small and fragile; he fancied that any sudden movement could possibly shatter such a serene sight as her. I could keep her here all night, she's light as a feather, 'Sis everyone who knows you cares about you. You've got so many friends you probably forget some of their names.' He added in jest. A peal of laughter exploded through her body, it was so real, and it made him even more aware of how close was, the way her breasts were so full against his solid chest. His cock started to feel her too; the slight vibrations of her in his arms making his blood rush down, threatening to betray the slight arousal already growing in his lap. He had to get her off of him and jump into a cold shower, but how? 'Yeah, you've got a point there, but having friends and having someone really care about you isn't the same, bro. They don't care what I wear, or how late I stay out, or make sure I don't fuck my life up the same as you do. None of my friends have brothers like that. You're really sweet compared to their brothers.' 'Sweet?' groaning he pushes her gently, more playfully than to really get her out of his lap. 'I'm a man; I'm not supposed to be sweet.' Grinning, she looked up at him with a coy glint in her eyes, 'I know I'm heavy, but gosh do you have to push me like that? You're not a man yet, you're only 20, so you're still a boy. And what is wrong with being sweet? Candy is sweet, babies are sweet, and puppies are sweet.' Growling playfully, he stood straight up, still clutching her in his arms, and she shrieked more out of surprise, clinging around his shoulders for dear life, 'Could a boy carry you in his arms up those steps? Could a boy toss you over his shoulder like this?' He swatted her ass playfully, seeing as she was quite at his mercy like this and not quite remembering when a girl was this much fun. God she had a tight, round ass and his hand came down again with a sharp slap, and he rubbed the tender spot, hearing her inhale sharply, gasping somewhat. He climbed the stairs, each heavy step, still clutching Emily in his arms, and kicked the door open and shut the door the same foot without missing a beat. Her small fists hammered into his back as he mischievously slid a hand along her thigh, tickling her; playfully tormenting her, making her shriek and wriggle as he made his way over to her bed. With a swipe of his hand he sends her little bears tumbling to the floor, 'Aw, how sweet you still needs teddy bears at night, sis. If anything you're the little girl, and a man like me shouldn't waist a minute of his time on a baby girl like you,' Dropping her unto the bed he let himself fall right after her, half on her body and half on the small bed. Loving the flush on her cheeks, and the way she just laughed and continued to pummel his toned chest in half-hearted protest, he took those tiny hands in his own and raised them above her head, pining her to the bed. He pinned her down to the bed, using his abdominals and straddled her legs and squeezed is thighs together to keep her in place. He smirked, raising his upper body up while still keeping the downward pressure that kept her pinned down to the bed, this whole course of events had his hard dick pressed up against her mound, and he swore under his breath, hoping that she had not the slightest inkling about it. 'Hey, you bully. You're not supposed to pick on people smaller than you! And I am not a little girl. I've had tons of boyfriends and they didn't think I was a little girl.' Came a shrill protest from the struggling girl. 'Tons of boyfriends, Sis? Is that right? What's a little girl like you know what to do with a boyfriend?' Marcus gloated, trying to appear smug as he smirked down at her. 'Oh I know plenty! They never had a single complaint. And could you move? Your keys are poking into me or something.' Laughing hard at her last comment, Marcus shifted a bit, moving his 'keys', 'So what did you do with these little boyfriends of yours sis?' Visions of her and random losers flashed through his mind with her in various stages of undress. He feels something strange, the urge to wrap his hands around their throats and squeezing till all thoughts of his little sis leave their minds, not least the spark of life. Much as he hated to admit it, he couldn't deny that maybe a little hint of jealousy had begun smoldering within his chest. 'The same thing all girls do with their boyfriends, Marcus, go out on dates, go watch movies and all that other stuff.' Came the reply, quite a bit nonchalant, yet innocent in its manner. 'What's that mean, Sis? You haven't let any of those losers you date get into those panties have you?' Giggling at the dark look in his hazel eyes, she cocks her head and winks at him, 'What panties, Bro?' there was a little bit of a hint of naughtiness in her voice, a faint glimmer set in a dark background. Tiny, yet impossible to miss, but easy to mistake for an illusion. His eyes crept down slowly, warily, and he realized that during their playful wrestling her nightie had crept up almost to her navel, exposing toned abs he'd never noticed before. It didn't even enter his mind that the very girl he considered his only sibling had grown up. Just the thought of her naked thighs and sweet pussy between his thighs sent shivers up and down his spine, the carnal thoughts hardening his prick almost to the point of pain in an instant. Marcus swallowed hard, knowing full well that he need only move his eyes a few more inches and he'd be seeing the naked pussy of his sweet, baby sis. Looking into her green eyes, he noticed something there he'd never seen before. Could she be aroused, or was that just a playful look? 'You mean you strut around with no panties on Sis?' he swallowed hard, the words excruciating even to utter, let alone think. With a shrug that made her pelvis grind against his jean-clad thigh, she looked up at him through slightly hooded eyes, her reply stunned him in its casualness and frankness, 'You'll just have to look for yourself bro, it's no fun otherwise.' He let his head fall, not thinking about where it would land until it was too late, cradled between her pert young breasts, his mind swamped with conflicting emotions. Fun was that what she said, what the hell did fun mean to her exactly? Hasn't he been trying to see it for years now? To see her, his own sweet little tormenter, any chance he could? Hearing an almost inaudible sigh he opened his eyes. No, wait. Was that a moan? Never remembering being as unsure of himself in his life he raised his head slowly not quite able to meet her eyes but he has to know what she meant - what that sigh meant. "Sis?" "Marcus... please, bro... look at me. I promise not to tell a soul." *** 'Please, harder...I'm so close, baby.' Her euphoric voice snapping him back to the present, he shakes his head opening his eyes again and looks down at her rapturous face. Her cheeks flushed pink, body thrashing beneath him, he knew she was on the brink of the chasm, orgasm so close she could practically taste it. Letting go of her hands, he brings them down to her nipples and pinched them hard, her yelp of pain letting him know that he'd had the desired effect, bringing her down a notch in arousal. He kissed her roughly, muffling her protests and brought his hands down to her hips, and pulling her body tightly to his, her juices smearing his ball-sack, he thrust harder, grunting audibly. Feeling the familiar churning inside his loins, he felt his shaft throb uncontrollably and swell as she moaned into his mouth, their tongues dancing furiously. With a shudder, he pulled his body to hers, a hand wrapping around the back of neck, pulling her down onto his cock forcing it inside her to the hilt. He let out guttural moans, her own quick to follow as he shot his cum inside her drenched pussy, soaking her on the inside with copious amounts of his hot and sticky seed, while her vagina contracts around him, tightening almost unbearably as she bucked wildly, her climax ripping through her with enough force to make her mind swim deliriously on a cloud of bliss. Their breaths quick and shallow, she smiled up at him, yet he didn't meet her gaze, letting his head drop to her shoulder thinking all the while that her eyes were not the right color as in his fantasies.