[Short Story] A Sick Play

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His head groggy, eyes feeling like they’d been glued together, George Fuck eased from the welcome warmth of the bed, groping blindly for the phone. His brain a mess, the autopilot of rational thought reminded George to inform his boss that he was too sick to come in to work. Chin jutting, face feeling sorry for itself, a clammy hand reached for the receiver. Damn. The hollow, lofty sound, like the inside of a church, could mean only one thing: one of the kids was already using the downstairs extension. George growled beneath his furry breath.

He looked back longingly at the inviting bed, yet something stopped him from crawling back beneath the covers. Habitually the first to rise and depart, long before either Josh or Lucy had even risen from their pits, his presence in the house would undoubtedly come as a complete surprise.

On holiday again – of course – breathlessly, Lucy, his 18-year-old stepdaughter, addressed the phone: “Sorry about that, Tammy…the postman…now where was I?”

“Oh honey…Josh!” reminded Tammy, Lucy’s best friend of the past decade.

“Oh yeah…Josh.” Lucy’s tone seemed to uplift.

Upstairs in his bedroom, the words registered on his addled brain, causing George to swallow hard, bringing a dry pain. He detested himself for listening in to his stepdaughter’s private conversation, yet at the same time he was scared to put the phone down and risk being caught. Rivulets of sweat snaked their way down his fevered brow.

“You really, really, REALLY must promise not to tell this to anyone else,” continued Lucy. “Promise, Tammy?”

“I promise,” assured her friend. “I PROMISE. Okay?”

Lucy paused, as above her father held his breath simultaneously. The front of his pyjama bottoms were already bulging in anticipation. It was odd, but inevitably he was at his most horny when under the weather. There had to be a direct correlation in men between sickness and sexual arousal. And right now his cock was upright like a gearstick, poking through the fly-hole and pressing hard into his navel. Again he swallowed, sighing at the gravel-laden feeling in his throat.

“Well?” prompted Tammy.

“Um…I, um, I caught Josh yesterday…”

“You caught him? Caught him doing what?”

“You know…in his bedroom…playing.”

“Playing…playing what?”

“Tammy, he was playing with his thingy.”

Tammy gasped and spluttered, as did George, his outpour suppressed beneath a huge palm. He wasn’t sure he could listen to this, yet his cock was throbbing like it had been stung by a bee. They were brother and sister, he had to remind himself, yet it did nothing to abate his huge erection.

George Fuck had not been blessed with the kindest luck in his time on earth, having lost two young wives before the age of 25. His marriage to high school sweetheart Ann had been cruelly ended by a boating accident in the Algarve, though the one consolation was that she had borne him a handsome son, Josh. And whilst it had been hard coping, forced into a corner George had managed admirably in raising a child on his own.

That was until, by some welcome change of luck, two years later he met Sarah. A fellow single parent, their friendship blossomed from pushing their respective toddlers in buggies to nursery school. Sarah’s daughter Lucy was a month or two younger than Josh, a little cutie with flyaway blonde locks tethered beneath a red bonnet.

Morning coffees led to romance and soon Sarah and Lucy were welcomed into the family. But then, just when it seemed George’s life was rosy once more, along came the fateful bout of pneumonia that tragically ended Sarah’s young life and made George a widower again. With no other family to speak of, Lucy was adopted and raised her as George’s own. In fact, she and Josh were more like brother and sister than most real brothers and sisters.

For over a decade now, George had forsaken his own pleasure to ensure his two children had the best of everything. Now, 18 going on 19 he couldn’t wish for two better kids.

In fact, two apparent innocents, George was shocked with what he heard. Both had had the odd boyfriend or girlfriend, yet he was as sure as a father could be that both remained virgins.

Lips pursing, George’s attention drifted back to the eavesdropped conversation……….

“So what did it look like?” enquired Tammy.

“It was huge,” responded Lucy, “far, far bigger than Steven’s,” she giggled.

George’s face clouded. Maybe he was wrong after all. That was the last time Lucy’s so-called boy-friend would be allowed over at nights. Studying indeed!

“Yeah, but you and Steven never…”

“Oh gosh, no,” spluttered Lucy. “I saw him in the shower once, that’s all.”

George gave a silent sigh of relief. He hated to admit it, but his feelings towards his stepdaughter had changed somewhat over the past year, somewhat alarmingly if the truth be known. In the past, his mates had ribbed him about having a ‘ready made piece of tail’, to which he’d gotten very angry and threatening. He didn’t see her in that way at all, he protested. That was until the holiday in Greece.

George found himself reaching inside the drawer. Most of the women on the beach in Rhodes were going topless and some were even completely naked. George objected vociferously, but Lucy was her own person, arguing what shame was there in exhibiting her body? It was the first time George had ever seen his stepdaughter fully unclothed. Even as a young child she’d been independent during bath time.

As Lucy dozed on the beach and Josh headed off for a swim, George glanced around shiftily. Gratefully, no one was paying them the slightest attention – even to Lucy, her slender and firm young body stretched out on the towel. Hastily George took two snapshots of his stepdaughter, ones that wouldn’t appear later in the family album.

That night, as the two teenagers trawled the island’s bars, George remained in the hotel, guiltily pleasuring himself over the two stolen pictures. Afterwards he sat, head-in-hands in the toilet, weeping gently.

But when a drunken Lucy arrived back late that night, a reinvigorated George undressed and helped her into bed, savouring her innocent nakedness. The kiss goodnight was deep, deeper than a father’s tongue should venture, their two tongues clashing. He agonised as she pressed her young body into his and he squeezed an arse cheek. Yet Lucy would forget by morning, remained sober and dressed the remainder of the holiday, besides which George had fought the feelings strenuously since.

Until now, when once more he removed the two photographs from the drawer, running his eyes over Lucy’s naked body in the picture, her firm, partly-tanned breasts standing proudly on her chest, the wisp of straw coloured hair between her legs. At the same time he listened to her voice on the phone.

“So what did you do, just watch?” enquired Tammy.

Lucy paused, before replying: “Um, for a short while, yeah. I was getting these really, really strange feelings in my…you know, down there. I just couldn’t help myself, seeing him there, doing that. Running his fist up and down that thick shaft of his got me sooooooo hot. I just had to…”

Lucy paused, and Tammy begged her to continue.

“I just couldn’t help but play with myself too, in the doorway.”

“Oh my God!” exclaimed Tammy. “Oh my God, Lucy…what then?”

Lucy coughed. “And then…oh gosh Tammy…and then he looked up, straight at me.”

“Nooooooo!”

“He looked really mad at first. I thought he was going to shout. I was really scared. But then he smiled…when he saw where my hand was. He gestured me over to the bed, and something made me go. I didn’t want to but I was just…powerless. He took my hand and placed it around his cock. Oh Tammy, it was even bigger close up. My fingers hardly fitted around. Then he asked me to…you know…so I did. I started to stroke it up and down. He was moaning really heavily. I kept pumping it harder and harder till he cried out. Then…then he came, a really massive spurt, all over his belly. I was so embarrassed. I just dashed off to my room.”

The normally talkative Tammy was dumbstruck. “Wow, Lucy!” she exclaimed eventually, “I can’t believe you…and with your own brother too!”

“STEPbrother,” Lucy corrected, sheepishly. “But yes I know. It’s wrong, isn’t it?”

Again Tammy was speechless, before Lucy added: “But that wasn’t all…”

George blew hard, palm flat against the mouthpiece, almost subconsciously, his other hand working up and down his cock. His throat ached and his fevered brow cascaded with sweat. Despite the guilt-ridden pleasure, it was impossible not to wish he were Josh. How he envied his son.

“Oh gosh, do go on,” prompted Tammy.

“Go on,” George heard himself whisper.

Lucy took a deep breath. “An hour later he came to my room to apologise. You can imagine how embarrassed we both were, how we were saying it must never happen again. And we both meant it too. Then, almost without realising, Josh’s hand was on my thigh, stroking so lovingly. It felt so good, so right. I just didn’t have the heart to tell him to stop. I couldn’t have found the words. Then he whispered that it was only fair that he returned the favour.”

“Oh my, no way!” gushed Tammy.

“A-ha,” assured Lucy. “It was like I was paralysed, Tammy, I couldn’t have moved if I’d wanted to. He yanked down my shorts and started by stroking my lower belly, ever so softly. He felt incredible. His fingers stroked my pussy, teasing me like crazy till I begged him to put them inside me. It was amazing, a hundred, no a thousand times better than doing it myself. He has amazing hands, just like dad…”

George’s ears pricked up and he sighed as Lucy spoke the words. In his mind he was fingering Lucy, watching as her eyes closed and ripples of pleasure coursed her naked body. “Amazing hands, just like dad…” The words reverberated in his brain.

“It was like Josh knew exactly what he was doing, precisely where to touch me. I was so wet his fingers just squelched inside me. They slid right over my clittie and I think I must have passed out. When I came round he was still rubbing. He whispered how much he loved me and I just came and came and came…”

“Oh wow, Lucy, wowwwwwwww.”

George echoed the sentiment. Hand working busily, a huge ejaculation flung from the eye of his cock, coating the photograph of his beautiful, naked stepdaughter.

Suddenly there was silence. George dared not breathe. Then the front door opened with a scrape.

“Oh jeez Tammy, the door, I think…oh God, I think it’s Josh. I gotta go.”

George heard the receiver slam, tiptoeing to the bedroom door. The pair stood face-to-face in the hall. “Hi Josh,” George heard Lucy say as he opened the bedroom door a crack, spying as his son buried his face in hers.

They embraced long and hard. “No, not here,” she protested, pulling away.

Taking his hand Lucy led her stepbrother up the stairs, straight past George’s door. Clothes were scattered up the landing. In their haste, the door to Josh’s room remained ajar. Still in his pyjamas, George tiptoed out onto the landing, his heart racing. ….. ….

TBC

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Despite being shrouded in a burning fever, George Fuck was drawn from the comfort of his sickbed by an illicit promise. Having earlier that morning overheard stepdaughter Lucy’s startling telephone confession, his mind was awash with worrying thoughts. Indeed, a visual interpretation of the recent escapade between the seemingly innocent 18-year-old and his son Josh, which had culminated in a bout of mutual masturbation, had been etched indelibly upon George’s brain. They were stepbrother and sister, after well.

The tragic circumstances of their upbringing, during which both their mothers died at an early age, had dictated that they had become closer than the majority of blood siblings. And together with their stepfather they had formed an unbreakable and inseparable trilogy. As a consequence, the idea of sexual relations between the pair appalled George. Yet at the same time, perversely it excited him. Hence, almost against his will, he found himself creeping towards Josh’s bedroom door. Hastily discarded shoes and socks, Josh’s jeans and Lucy’s t-shirt and white panties littered the landing.

George’s throat ached and his body pulsed painfully all over, each nerve ending on fire. On top of that, his heart thumped painfully against his ribcage and his cock throbbed uncontrollably against his pyjamas. Easing ever closer, he was forced to pass Lucy’s room. A pastel parlour cluttered with cuddly toys and trinkets, with posters of boy bands and movie stars adorning the walls, it was a typical young girl’s sanctuary. George’s heart sank with deep regret at losing the stepdaughter he’d raised as his own from an early age to impending womanhood.

From inside Josh’s room, George could make out the sound of passionate kissing, along with encouraging words spilling from Lucy’s lips as if she were the driving force behind the union. All rational thought lost to the fever, George could barely contain his envy for Josh. With doubtless little more experience than his partially younger stepsister, doubtless this was every teen boy’s dream: a sexy and naïve blonde bursting with hormones and horny as hell. As he edged ever closer, George pictured Josh suckling on Lucy’s firm pink nipples as she threw her head back, moaning.

Then suddenly and unexpectedly George spluttered, hacking from the back of his furnace-laced throat. In the still of the house the cough echoed loudly. Thereafter things just seemed to stand still, until heightened movement in Josh’s room finally broke the silence. Lucy emerged panic-stricken, wrapped hastily in her stepbrother’s dressing gown. Eyes wide, she surveyed her stepfather on the landing, face buried in hands. Seizing the opportunity, deftly, she gathered up the discarded clothes before the unexpected guest had time to ’notice'.

“Daddy, what is it? What are you…what are you doing at home?” she enquired in a high pitch, cheeks flushed with a combination of desire and embarrassment.

George glanced up with a pained expression, rasping about the sickness. Acting quickly, Lucy ushered the patient back to his room. George consented, the closeness of Lucy’s firm young body to his own feeling good. In his delirium, George’s hand went unchecked as it slid down her spine to cup an arse cheek for support. Still in a state of arousal from earlier, his cock rubbed against the bare skin of her leg whilst the stubbly surface of his cheek brushed a nipple as he clung like a baby craving attention.

But all too quickly she let go, the bed rising to greet his wearisome body and George slumped down disconsolately. Leaning over, Lucy placed a soothing palm on his sweat covered forehead, pursing her lips into a caring smile. Unbeknown to Lucy, as she craned forward the ill-fitting dressing gown parted down the middle, exposing a pair of perfectly formed and pert pear-shaped breasts. The nipples stood erect, seemingly still attentive from earlier with Josh. George sighed wantonly, the pitch mutating to a low moan. “Oh, poor daddy,” Lucy whispered, misreading the signal.

George’s pained expression implored her to stay, but she uncoupled and rose to depart, turning away from the patient, eyes widening as the mirror reflected back her exposed breasts. Hastily she covered up, issuing the promise: “I’ll be right back, daddy. And I’ll bring you a nice hot drink.”

George smiled thinly, anxious to learn of the implications of his unexpected intervention. As Lucy closed the door behind, he craned, ear as close as possible. A brief exchange of muted words took place, concluded by the order: “No, Josh, not now.”

A smug smile settled upon George’s ravaged features. Seconds later the stairs were heavy with footsteps, following which the front door slammed. Having railroaded the coupling, at last George was able to relax and allow sleep to enfold him.

When George awoke, a glass of hot lemon stood cooling on the bedside table. Sweating profusely, mouth fiery and dry, he climbed from the covers, resting his weary body on top, supping gratefully from the glass. Regrettably, each gulp brought a gravel-like pain. Too hot to slip back inside the covers, he opened a few buttons in the pyjama top for ventilation and lay back on top of the bed, feeling sorry for himself.

Half an hour passed, deep in thought, before footsteps creaked on the stairs brought George back from semi-consciousness. A little more fully dressed now, Lucy came to sit on the edge of the bed. Her little white t-shirt bore the legend ‘Princess’ in silver lettering, causing George to sigh in a whimsical manner. Eyes lowering, he observed a pair of airy yellow summer shorts that stopped half way up her thighs. Lucy’s long blonde hair, freshly washed, spilled over her shoulders. The scent that permeated even the vagaries of the fever gave George an instant buzz. A benign smile on her face, Lucy leaned over to place a gentle kiss on his brow. “How are you feeling, daddy?”

George’s mouth formed a pained frown as he sought attention, the resultant cough speaking volumes. “Ah, poor daddy,” Lucy sympathised. “Maybe you need some sleep.”

George’s head shouted ’no’ but Lucy left the room nonetheless, returning moments later with a bottle of sleeping pills. George thanked her with a half-smile. “I’ll check on you later, daddy.”

Another hour passed before the door opened once again, George’s left eyelid raising a fraction. Perhaps if he pretended to sleep, this time Lucy might stay longer. His stepdaughter smiled in the manner one does when encountering a sleeper, resting her backside on the edge of the bed. George sighed ‘in his sleep’, muttering incoherent words to maintain the ruse. It must have worked, for Lucy extended a hand to stroke the forest of hairs at his chest that was exposed by his half opened pyjama top.

George’s chest inflated with the motion of breathing as lovingly Lucy caressed, circling his nipples. Her smooth palm flat, she gathered a mass of chest hairs in her tiny fingers, stroking lovingly, whilst her stepfather’s heart raced below. George willed her to continue, though he was sure she would soon see sense. Yet instead of buttoning him up and departing, after a quick thought, Lucy did the opposite, undoing the fastened pair of buttons at the bottom of the pyjama top to expose his torso fully. Clearly she believed he was out for the count, though George’s lethargy meant that the pills remained untouched.

With his stepdaughter in such close proximity – doing that, and looking like that – a rush of blood caused George’s cock to throb, the head protruding slightly through the fly of his pyjama bottoms. Soon he was aware of the air rushing around the partly exposed penis. Lucy, however, seemed unaware. Lowering her palms, she caressed his belly, lowering to finger the wisp of hair beneath his navel. George’s breath upped a notch the lower she stoked, hands getting close to the elasticated strip around his hips, inches from his penis. His brain flooding with excitement, George’s cock grew to semi-hardness, expanding to rest on his navel.

Still Lucy acted as though she hadn’t noticed, and it may have been that she didn’t notice the effect this was having on her stepfather, until that was unexpectedly the edge of her small hand brushed the purple tip. Quickly she pulled away, as if having touched a hot radiator. Eyes squeezed tight to maintain the pretence of sleep George could nonetheless feel her eyes boring into his groin, surveying his manhood. “Dad?” she whispered. “Are you awake?”

George continued to feign sleep, breathing deeply and muttering gibberish. “Dad?” she reiterated, a little louder, a little purr vibrating on her lips. “Oh daddy, so big,” she breathed, when finally convinced he was asleep.

In those words, any remaining innocence was betrayed to lust, and it occurred to George that perhaps his little girl knew exactly what she was doing, and that Josh had merely been ’there’. Either way, what had happened with Josh was undoubtedly the catalyst for this newfound carnal urge. He shivered as a hand stroked his inner thigh and Lucy adjusted her position, fingers squeezing his balls through the thin material of the pyjamas. After ejecting a little gasp, tentatively she placed a finger on the shaft. “Oh daddy, so much bigger than Josh,” she breathed.

Lucy’s words caused George to sigh, which in turn prompted Lucy to retract. He dared not look, even the merest peep, though inwardly he was imploring. Breaking into a deep snoring motion, George tried to bring the moment back. Moments passed as Lucy agonised and George’s heart pumped.

Finally Lucy leaned back in, hesitating above her stepfather’s prone body. Her breath warmed his flesh, causing the hairs to stand on end. A moment passed before she traced a finger the length of the thick shaft that lay upon on his lower belly, drawing back the foreskin lightly. The motion prompted the cock to rise slightly.

Gingerly Lucy took the shaft in hand and began to stroke, easing the foreskin back and forth over the spongy purple head. Doubtless hot, sweaty and fetid, George was astounded that this lovely creature continued to toy so lovingly with the semi-excited manhood of a sick man. Yet, in his sickness, George was hornier than ever before in his 40 years.

Lucy must have been as turned on as he, for as George elevated an eyelid ever so slightly, he witnessed her left hand reach to unzip the yellow shorts, fingers sliding inside. At the same time her right hand maintained its grip her stepfather’s thick tool. Moaning gently, Lucy bit her bottom lip as her moist cunt enveloped three urgent fingers. “Oh God yeah, daddy,” she groaned in muffled tones.

Opening an eye a crack and seeing Lucy’s fingers buried deep in pink moist pussy prompted a tingle of pleasure in George and a thick dollop of precum to be extinguished from the eye. Pleased at her handiwork, Lucy gave a little squeal. Taking her fingers off the shaft momentarily, the teenager dipped a fingertip in the eye, drawing forth a thin string of dew. Slowly she lifted the finger to her lips, tasting tentatively. A smile followed by a little purr of approval spilled from her lips.

Regaining position at her stepfather’s groin, Lucy cupped the two large balls through the light material of his pyjamas, weighing them in her palm and squeezing gently. Instantly her stepfather’s shaft stiffened to two-thirds capacity, wavering between them like a sapling in the wind. Lucy’s fingers moulded each ball wondrously.

7 inches above, precum spilled out at an alarming rate, snaking down a head that was purple and bulbous. Tracing back up the shaft and drawing back the foreskin once more, Lucy gazed in wonderment, the underside glazed by sweat and smegma. Running a fingertip the circumference of the ridge, Lucy smeared the dewy deposits, this time feeding the fingertips hungrily into her mouth, savouring the taste.

George waited in heightened anticipation, not daring to break the spell by ‘waking’. Not that Lucy seemed inclined to stop. Indeed, she seemed to thrive upon the danger and the taboo nature of the coupling as she had with Josh. Despite his tightly shut eyes, George could tell from her breathing and the sickly-sweet aroma creeping below his nostrils that Lucy was masturbating furiously, doubtless beyond the point of no return. “Oh daddy!” she moaned repeatedly. “Oh daddy, your little girl is cumming…”

Risking a peek, George saw her fingers blur between her legs, shorts crumpled at her knees as she stood on them. Her pussy was awesome, pouting pink lips bordered by almost white pubic hair, a testament to her mother’s Swedish ancestry. Glancing up, he saw that her front teeth were almost completely submerged in her bottom lip. Tossing her head back, Lucy squealed as her fingers squelched in her pussy. More gently, the right hand stroked his throbbing cock, each vein bulging. Almost subconsciously George closed his eyes once more.

Despite her own orgasm, Lucy seemed determined to reciprocate. Stroke after stroke brought him closer, his face contorting. Lucy was moaning louder now, no longer fearing discovery, it seemed. It was clear to George who was in control, and he couldn’t imagine any better a way than this. About to unload with a shattering climax, Lucy’s hand slipped from his cock. Anxiously George waited, on the verge, not daring to look.

Then suddenly the bed dipped under Lucy’s displaced weight and George felt his legs being eased apart. Spilled hair caressed his thighs and warm breath spread across the helmet. Oh God, he thought, his own breath held deathly tight.

Lucy’s pursed lips kissed the tip, precum coating her lips. Licking them lovingly, she praised her stepfather in hushed tones before those soft lips dipped further to envelop the thick spongy head. From the snugness of the fit, George knew her lovely little mouth was stretched to capacity. An eager tongue grazed the eye, licking back and forth gently. Yes she was inexperienced and yes he had had more accomplished blowjobs, yet none was from his virginal 18-year old stepdaughter and George very nearly pumped his seed into her mouth there and then, the orgasm rising from his balls as desperately he fought the urge.

Reaching to grip the shaft, Lucy eased the foreskin back and forth as she sucked at the inflamed head like it was a lollipop. Spittle dribbled from the purple helmet to the shaft as her face dipped back and forth. She gagged as the head touched her throat, yet the vigour with which she went about the blowjob told George that Lucy was thoroughly enjoying this new experience. And to be her first filled George with immense warmth. Minutes passed as George savoured every lick.

Lucy threw back her head, sucking in air, saliva and precum and taking a moment to admire the rampant cock before her. “Oh daddy,” she drooled, checking her father’s face for signs of waking.

Opening the fingers of her left hand, Lucy’s pink pussy lips widened. Gripping her stepfather’s shaft once more and shuffling inwards on her knees, she guided the pulsing head towards her cunt. Eyes closed tight once more, George felt the tip slide back and forth the length of Lucy’s slippery slit. “Oh fuck daddy, yeah,” she enthused, all sense of subtlety abandoned. “Oh fuck yeah, Lucy,” his inner voice was screaming.

Back and forth she slid the engorged head, pussy lips parting to bury it inside. Fingers letting go of the shaft, Lucy rocked gently against the partially submerged cock. George could feel the hymen. Indeed the tip of his cock touched it with one of the deeper plunges, before Lucy eased back. Squeezing gently and rocking her hips, she brought her father to a mind-blowing orgasm. At that moment the tip plopped from the tight slit, a fountain of hot seed firing from the eye, coating Lucy’s fingers and pussy.

George grunted ‘in his sleep’, the controlled exhalation belying the intensity of the climax. In ecstacy, the fever was all but forgotten. As he opened an eyelid a crack, he saw Lucy busily pushing the spunk that clung to her blonde pubes inside her pussy, prompting another muted shriek as she came a second time.

After licking clean her sticky fingers, Lucy climbed carefully from the bed, pulling up her shorts. “Oh daddy,” she sighed, leaning over to kiss his forehead.

Just when George thought it was over, the bed dipped once more and he felt his flaccid penis being handled. Drawing back the foreskin and locking her lips on the head, Lucy sucked and licked until it was clean, fitting the cock back inside the fly of the pyjama bottoms. “Sleep tight daddy,” she whispered with a giggle and a skip before departing.

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They sat in silence at the dinner table that evening, shrouded in secrets. Patriarch George Fuck was still wrapped in a drab grey dressing gown, owing to the bout of fever that had set the incredible day in motion. Evacuating his sickbed for an hour, George lapped at the soup whilst trying not to allow taboo musings to cloud his brain. Son Josh was uniquely quiet, his 19-year old head awash with the twin sins of guilt and lust, whilst 18-year old stepdaughter Lucy barely dared to look at either. Somehow, in the blink of an eye, each had gone from family member to lover.

Everywhere in recent weeks, Lucy seemed to have been bombarded with sex, none more so than recently. Her mind cast back ten minutes, teeth sinking into her bottom lip, legs crossing almost subconsciously to stem the urge to touch herself.

A close-knit family unit, thrown together by the deaths of both kids’ mothers at an early age, openness prevailed and it was not uncommon to witness each other’s nudity or for the bathroom door to remain unlocked. However, what she’d witnessed and her reaction to it shocked Lucy to the core. As she’d walked into the bathroom, mind on other things, Josh had chosen that exact moment to climb from the bath. Water droplets clinging to his strong hirsute chest, cock stiffer than perhaps it might usually be, owing to a bout of hand relief seconds earlier, their eyes met in terror. Thankfully his ejaculation was now swirling around in a whirlpool and down the plughole, yet a moment earlier and Lucy would have witnessed his calling her name in orgasmic frenzy, culminating in a spectacular shot of cum like string from a party popper.

As Josh groped for the out-of-reach towel, Lucy pulled up sharply, the scene in freeze frame. Her first reaction was to crave apology, followed by an almost subconscious shift of the eyes to his semi-erect manhood. Simultaneously, Josh’s eyes honed in on her breasts, attentive nipples straining hard against the white cotton. The sexual tension like a coiled spring, unable to contain himself Josh reached out his wet paws, coating the firm pear-shaped breasts that stuck wetly to the material. Lucy exhaled hard, yet backed away sheepishly as Josh stretched to cover his modesty with the towel. “Um, dinner ready in 5 minutes,” Lucy stammered.

The vision and the feeling replayed on Lucy’s brain at the dinner table, arousing her. It didn’t seem to take much these days to turn her thoughts to sex. It was as if she’d turned from an innocent virgin teen to some kind of cheap slut virtually overnight. Even the sight of a banana nestling in the fruit bowl caused her pussy to itch. 95% of her thoughts had a sexual slant, though the other 5% quickly found themselves infected with smut. Try as she might, Lucy could not rid herself of this newfound wantonness. Sat opposite her stepbrother now, she visualised his cock, tongue skirting her lips. Suddenly she felt all heady, her nose vibrating. “A-choooo.”

“Bless you,” offered George in a hoary voice, his first contribution.

Still indelibly etched on his brain like the lingering of a filament, the image of Lucy busily pleasuring both her and him as seemingly he slept provided a haunting visual. It had been so wrong yet oh so right. Guiltily he craved a repeat. At the same time, however, George was only too acutely aware of the competition offered by his own younger, fitter and more handsome son. That eavesdropped conversation between Lucy and her friend that had kicked off the day left no doubt in George’s mind that her feelings for Josh went beyond the normal love between a brother and sister.

Lucy sneezed a second time, face buried in her hand, causing Josh to look up from his plate. “I think Dad’s given you his cold,” he joked, unaware of the implication behind the throwaway line.

Lucy knew it, and so did George, though Lucy was unaware her father had been conscious throughout. She glanced sideways, the guilt swiftly turning to lust, bringing a repeated tingling that added to the tingles elicited by the memory of Josh’s wet, naked body, and which resulted in her panties becoming very damp indeed. “Daddy hasn’t given me his cold,” Lucy protested. “Tammy has one too. It’s her fault.”

“I wasn’t aware you could catch a cold from talking to someone on the telephone,” observed George, immediately regretting bringing up the conversation that had set in motion this turn of events.

Thankfully Lucy didn’t pick up on the allusion, and never for one moment did she realise that her stepfather knew what she and Josh had done in that stolen moment. Yet the tension in the air was like an over-inflated and overstretched balloon about to burst any moment. It was Josh that diffused the tension by stepping down from the table. “I’m meeting Steve at the Crown,” he announced. “Wanna join us?” The question was directed at his stepsister. “Let poor dad have some peace and quiet.”

Lucy sniffed, feeling even groggier than before. She really had caught her stepfather’s cold. “I don’t think I feel like going the pub. You go. Daddy and I will console each other.”

That thought, and the chain of thoughts that sprang from it like infinite strands of DNA sent a rush of blood to George’s cock and he had to swiftly adjust the dressing gown. It was almost unbearable.

With Josh having vacated, the ailing pair set about the washing up. As Lucy bent to tuck away the dishes, the thigh length denim skirt riding up to reveal a triangle of cream panty, George experienced another throb. One minute she was an angelic girl-next-door, the next slut and seductress. Either way, George had to keep reminding himself that she was also his stepdaughter.

As he curled up on the sofa to watch a little TV before bed, Lucy stretched out on her belly on the floor, weight on her elbows, glancing through a magazine. Inevitably, George’s attention was distracted from the screen by his stepdaughter’s backside, its perfect curvature highlighted within the denim skirt. And yet Lucy had stretched out like this for as long as he could remember. It was as if she’d developed a fresh allure overnight, and suddenly things had become very different. His cock rose an inch from his thigh, barely contained within the dressing gown.

Lucy felt it too. Though she couldn’t see from this angle, instinct told her George was ogling her legs and buttocks. The very thought made her as hot as hell, the words on the page of the magazine blurring before her eyes. Her pussy ached with lust and her panties were getting ever damper. Damn, she’d gotten through so many pairs in the past fortnight. Rising quickly, she announced her intention to take a bath and an early night, just catching George’s eyes as quickly they averted to the TV. Leaning in, she stroked his forehead and pecked at his stubble-coated jaw. “Sleep tight, daddy. Hope you’re better in the morning.”

Mounting the stairs, Lucy had an awesome idea that sent a gush from her clit. God she was becoming a naughty girl of late. Oh but how the notion turned her on. Rubbing two fingers across the crotch of the panties, the stain spread thickly. Lucy didn’t know about a hot bath, a cold shower more like.

Disrobing on the landing, the laundry basket was visible in her father’s room. ‘Carelessly’ she tossed the stained panties so that they hung over the side. Smiling to herself she headed to the bathroom, the rush of summer air warming her naked body.

The bath was piping hot, just what a girl in the early stages of a cold craved. Puffy spheres of soap clung to her shapely breasts as she washed carefully, savouring her own body. She cupped the undersides, thumbs teasing each nipple, gasping at the sensation. Almost without thought, two fingers found her pussy, flicking at an engorged and hyper sensitive clit. No more than a dozen stokes and the orgasm wracked her entire body. Looking appealingly at the door, its bolt unfastened, Lucy heard George mount the stairs, her breath starting to race. Yet, perhaps through guilt or sickness, George headed straight to bed.

Her ablutions completed, Lucy snuck into bed, thoughts immediately returning to lust and wild acts of copulation so vivid that these thoughts would surely inseminate the dreams to follow. For whilst imaging sex was one thing, dreams were the next best thing to the act itself, waking thoughts as poor a relation as cybersex was to real sex. She lay for an hour idly nipping her nipples and pleasuring her clitoris.

Suddenly she remembered the honey trap, the notion strong enough to draw her out of bed and to her stepfather’s door. Sure enough the panties were gone. George’s heightened snoring emanated from the bed and this time he slept for real. Heart thumping against her left breast, Lucy tiptoed over, carefully drawing back the covers, a smile lighting her pretty young features at the discovery of her stepfather cradling the panties. A dark semen stain coated the crotch, supplementing hers. “Oh daddy,” she breathed.

Her throat too dry, head too hot with rising fever to even contemplate repeating the earlier charade, Lucy backed away. Holed up in bed once more, a gentle breeze from the open window ran its spindly fingers through her long blonde hair and lightly caressed her neck as she stroked herself to orgasm.

At some point, reality began to blur and a dream intervened. It must have been a dream for it was very wicked indeed, way beyond that which her waking brain was able to concoct. They were at the beach, the three of them, cocooned within their own windbreak. Lucy was stretched out naked on a towel, knees and shoulders raised as Josh vacuumed his lips to hers, their tongues dancing frenziedly. The passion in the embrace was overwhelming, enhanced when he rolled her nipples in turn between thumb and forefinger, causing Lucy to moan into his mouth. At the same time, George had his head pressed between her legs. Stubble chafed her thighs as her stepfather’s tongue found her clit. His lips were stained with her juices as her body writhed.

Between them, the two men in her life continued to pleasure Lucy, swapping places so that George’s cock pressed her lips and Josh prepared to press his into her virgin pussy. “Yes,” she moaned in her sleep, the dream so vivid it was more real than real. “Yessssss,” she reiterated, a slave to the whim of these two insistent men.

All of a sudden Lucy became aware of a weight on her tummy, the scent of alcohol laced breath on her face. It took a few moments to comprehend, the dream still lingering like a clearing mist. A hard cock was pressing against her cunt – for real. Josh was in her bed, his hands moulding her breasts as he tried to penetrate her labia. It felt good, oh so good and Lucy relaxed, allowing the head of his penis to nestle snugly at her entrance before reality intervened. “Josh, no,” she pleaded, the words muffled as his face engulfed hers, his tongue buried deep in her mouth. “Mmmph, no Josh,” she begged.

Josh retracted, freeing her lips, his cock tip still in place, ready to drilled deep into that wet virgin snatch. “Not here, not now,” she protested. “Anything but that…please…”

The disappointment was evident, but Josh acceded to his stepsister’s wish, scrambling off to lay beside her on his back, cock like a flagpole in the moonlight, breath heavier than a marathon runner’s. Lucy turned onto her side, stroking the fine mesh of hairs on his chest. She knew exactly what she wanted to do right now and, upon reflection, Josh craved it too. He’d slept with half a dozen girls up to now, none of whom…

He gasped as Lucy’s mouth descended, her blonde locks brushing his belly. Only the second blowjob she’d ever given, the first earlier that day on her ‘unsuspecting’ stepfather, the experience had at least given her an insight into the male appendage. Not only that, the pleasure it conveyed upon another very nearly brought an orgasm in itself. An unselfish lover, giving head was going to be Lucy’s forte, she suspected.

Concentrating on the nicely engorged purple mushroom head, Lucy’s tongue made a beeline for each and every sensitive area: the eye at the top, around the crown and at the back where the tip joined the shaft. Josh groaned in delight, yet realising there would be little time to savour the act: she was just too damn good, a natural. Already he could feel the onset of orgasm. As her head bobbed up and down, Lucy’s lips and tongue cushioned the rock hard cock as it jerked in her mouth and brought Josh to the verge. “Oh God,” he moaned.

Lucy wasn’t sure she wanted him to cum in her mouth and thoughtfully Josh withdrew. Lying back, Lucy stared into his slanted eyes as Josh straddled her belly, wanking down into her tits. The orgasm was intense, cum flinging from the eye and sploshing her right boob. He milked every last drop into her cleavage before shifting position and pushing his head between her legs. His hot breath on her clit, teeth drawing out the clit from its hood, drove Lucy wild. Six long lashes of the hot tongue and Lucy came hard on his lips.

The pair lay side to side, breath asthmatic. Dipping a finger into the pool at her cleavage, Lucy tasted tentatively, lips smacking. Mmmm, not bad she thought, before reaching across for a tissue to clean up the excess. Josh kissed her on the forehead before creeping away. Once her head had stopped swimming, the impending fever kicked back in, causing a loud cough to be ejected from her lips, throat burning red.

From his room, George heard the cough. It sounded as if Lucy was going down with the same thing as he, the poor little lamb. With his own symptoms seemingly on the wane, George would nonetheless be calling in sick again tomorrow morning. Well, his little girl needed all the Tender Loving Care a loving father could offer…

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What a difference a good night’s sleep can make. George Fuck awoke the following morning with the fever in remission and little more than a light tickle in the back of his throat. No doubt a strong cup of tea and a hearty breakfast would put paid to the last of the lingering symptoms. Immediately his thoughts turned to stepdaughter Lucy, the subject of each and every dream throughout a night of intense fantasy. Yes, he feeling much better.

Sadly, the same could not be said of the girl on his mind, a hacking cough permeating the closed door of her bedroom. Met on the landing by son Josh, awkward glances were exchanged, both harbouring guilty thoughts of Lucy. Statuesque in a sports vest and shorts, Josh was every young girl’s dream. George, on the other hand, looked all his forty years and more in a drab dressing gown. The older man sighed, knowing full well he couldn’t compete looks-wise for Lucy’s affections or match his son’s tanned athleticism. “Lucy sounds in a poor way. Maybe I should stay home today…” Josh began.

“No, no,” George dismissed. “You go out and enjoy yourself. I’m still a little under the weather myself. Boss isn’t expecting me in till next week.”

To add credence to the claim George forced a cough.

“You sure?” enquired Josh, eyes slanting.

“Yes, I’m sure,” replied his father persuasively. “No point two of us wasting our days.”

Josh nodded. “I’ll probably be out a while.”

George rubbed his hands with glee as Josh hit the stairs. He had Lucy all to himself. “Enjoy yourself, son.”

“You too, dad.”

A cuppa brewing on the side, he conveyed a steaming glass of Lemsip to Lucy’s room. A knock on the door and he pushed inside with a shoulder. Lucy looked like he had the previous day: weak and feverish, her pretty body ravaged. Creeping up close George issued a paternal pursed lip look of concern as Lucy acknowledged his presence with a sigh. Extending a hand he touched a clammy brow that felt like a hot water bottle. “I’ve brought you a Lemsip, darling.”

“Thanks dad,” she wheezed, the words an effort.

The bed covers down by her waist, George’s eyes focused almost subconsciously on her breasts. Having sweated profusely throughout a night peppered with weird dreams and staccato sleep, Lucy’s ample boobs were stuck to the snug-fitting white t-shirt. The glazed material almost transparent, two purplish-brown areolae were clearly visible. Struggling to fight these illicit thoughts, he couldn’t help but imagine what her panties were like: similar, tight and stuck to her young pussy no doubt. Mmmmmmm.

Blowing hard, George had to stem the urge to draw back the sheets and find out for himself. Instead he pirouetted and exited the bedroom before the thought could fester in his messed-up brain.

A lazy day, with nothing better to do, George sat in the lounge ingesting daytime TV and trying to stop his mind wandering off on a tangent. An hour of mental anguish later, he found himself climbing the stairs once more. Suddenly his pace quickened on account of a frightened scream emanating from Lucy’s room. In her fevered delirium, Lucy had woken sharply from a nasty nightmare.

George burst in and stood at her side offering words of comfort. Lucy sat up, pressing her cheek to his midriff and clinging on for dear life. Still in his dressing gown, open at the front, her tears brushed the wisp of hairs around his navel. “Oh daddy, don’t leave me,” she begged.

Her cheeks were ruddy with fever, eyes sunken, lips cracked, nose runny and hair matted – yet despite everything she still looked like a precious little angel. “Please daddy,” she reiterated, tiny hand slipping inside his.

What a choice: watching warring and freakish families on a Springer-esque cloned excuse for entertainment or stay with his ailing stepdaughter? It was a no-brainer. As Lucy uncoiled, her panda eyes appealed. Turning on to her side, she slipped a thumb between her lips like she’d done as the cute little infant he’d first known. His head in turmoil, George slid in beneath the covers.

Her single bed a tight squeeze, close bodily contact was unavoidable. Lucy adjusted so that her stepfather’s body spooned hers. Her legs snaked over his, a delightfully soft bum pressed to his groin and her head nestled beneath his chin. George stroked her side through the damp t-shirt, concentrating on the small area between breast and hip, before allowing his arm to loop across her belly, tucking his hand beneath.

Lucy sighed wistfully, feeling safer than she’d ever felt before. When George pursed his lips to plant a soft kiss behind her ear-lobe she almost cried at the tenderness and overwhelming show of affection. She couldn’t have hoped for a better guardian after the death of her mother.

The pair lay for an inestimable amount of time, both drifting in and out of contented sleep. Occasionally George would reflex his hand to caress Lucy’s underside through the t-shirt, eliciting light purrs. And then sleep would intervene once more.

Waking for the umpteenth time from a light slumber, once more George had to convince himself it wasn’t a dream. He really was in bed with his precious stepdaughter. Wracked with indecision, he went to slip out of the bed only to hear Lucy mew like an upset kitten. As he attained a comfortable position, Lucy moulded her body back into his and lowered so that his hand was just beneath her bosom.

He lifted a finger and it hovered momentarily before tracing a line across the underside of Lucy’s near breast. Her breath quickened but no hint of objection was forthcoming, the line between paternal concern and sexual activity close to being crossed. There was no blood tie between them, he had to keep convincing himself, yet this was a girl he’d raised as his own since she was a babe in arms. He had to confess, somewhat guiltily that he’d even grown to love her more than his flesh-and-blood son. Had there been the slightest objection from Lucy he’d have stopped immediately, his love for the girl far outweighing any primal desire.

Instead Lucy pushed her breast into his palm as if she craved more. George bent his fingers at the knuckle, cupping the soft orb gently whilst his thumb caressed the underside. He did worry that Lucy’s fever was perhaps driving her to this blithe acceptance, yet with that shapely boob filling his hand it would have taken a herd of elephants to drag him from her bed.

As he squeezed a little harder, her breast compressed like a stress ball, and boy was this de-stressing. Lucy whimpered and he raised the thumb, hovering a hair’s breadth above a nipple that had sprouted up attentively. Shifting position to press closer to her backside, his semi-hardness nestled in the soft recess, prompting Lucy to let out the first light groan of lust.

Crossing another line, George ran his thumb over the surface of Lucy’s nipple, the groan growing elongated. He repeated the action half a dozen times, suddenly reminded of his late wife, Sarah, Lucy’s mum who at times had been able to reach orgasm from nipple play alone. How he longed to place his hand between Lucy’s legs to find out.

But no, not yet, too early he warned himself, satisfying his immediate lust with a volley of butterfly kisses to her soft neck as his spare hand caressed her blonde hair, fingernails raking the crown ever so lightly. Lucy adored that, arching her back to rub her arse over his crotch.

Hand smoothing up the expanse of young breast, George gave it a really hearty squeeze. Angling his thumb and forefinger, he clamped a teat that had inflated to gross proportions like it might explode at any moment. He compressed as if trying to revert the excited nipple to its original size before twisting. Lucy issued a pained-sounding squeal and he eased off, whispering in her ear: “Sorry honey.”

“No, no, it’s okay daddy,” she whispered. “I think I just, um, oh daddy…”

Lucy did take after her mother, having cum without the slightest stimulation to her clit. George smiled broadly. “Are you okay?”

“Yes daddy…but I’m so hot.”

Indeed she was, the heat from her body almost scorching. The fever, it seemed, had taken as firm a grip as her stepfather.

Letting out a huge contented sigh, Lucy rotated her limp body on to her back, staring straight up. Her innocent eyes gazed into George’s. Remained on his side, he watched over his precious little girl. Craning, he went to kiss her forehead but Lucy had other ideas, elevating her head so that their lips brushed. “Kiss me daddy,” she entreated, her lips parting to receive his.

This was no paternal kiss, their mouths open, tongues clashing, as George moved his hand up inside her t-shirt, gently caressing the flesh around the navel. “I want you to make me feel better, daddy,” she pleaded between bouts of fervent French kissing.

On the next downward stroke George’s hand continued past the elastic of her panties, another barrier broken both metaphysically and physically. By now however they’d gone too far to turn back. His palm rubbed the panty crotch, fiery like a furnace and damp with the arousal of anticipation and fevered perspiration. Lucy’s body went into uncontrollable spasm. How was it possible to feel so bad yet so good all at the same time? In a way the sickness merely served to intensify the pleasure.

George squeezed lightly at the crotch, feeling the soft and moist cunt lips petal beneath the cotton. Maybe it was the fever but Lucy was wetter and juicier than either of the women he’d been married to, her cunt dripping. It was sensitive too, squirming to the lightest pressure. Extending the middle finger, he parted the lips, only the light knicker material preventing his eager digit from burying to the knuckle and beyond. Rotating the finger he pressed as far as the panties would allow. Lucy groaned throatily.

Lifting away, instinctively George sniffed, his fingers reeking of teen pussy. The back of her head buried firmly in the pillow, Lucy arched her back, plumping up her soft yet firm breasts, still stuck to the wet top. Taking hold, she rolled up the t-shirt until the bottom two half tits were teasingly exposed. Groaning to indicate her lack of strength, George was quick to help out, lifting it beyond to concertina at her neck. Finally the most gorgeous and shapely breasts it was possible to imagine were unveiled. The fever merely made them look perkier, pinker and more suckable than ever as they quivered with a mix of excitement and fear. Smitten, George could happily gaze upon them all day. “You are so beautiful, baby,” he mouthed.

“Thank you daddy,” she whispered.

“Can I suck them?”

“Oh yes please, daddy.”

George moved slowly, savouring the moment, concentrating first upon the right nipple that, up to that point, had been starved of affection. Lucy relaxed, hands above her head tightly gripping the bed rail. Front teeth embedded in her bottom lip, she sighed as her stepfather sucked with relish, his lips pursed to form a vacuum. At the same time his tongue glided back and forth across the diamond hard nipple.

Lucy’s body jerked as a hand lowered down her stomach, finding the band of her panties and sliding it inside. Instinctively George’s middle finger teased at the slit, fitting in easily at first. At the knuckle, however, Lucy’s cunt became ultra tight and he needed to exercise a little force to progress, his finger finding her maidenhead. Lucy gasped, her head swimming, thrashing from side to side like a prize catch.

As she went to scream with lust, George thrust his lips to hers, muffling all sound. Within moments their tongues were dancing once more as his finger pumped her pussy to the hymen and back.

Using all the strength left in her ravaged body, Lucy lifted her buttocks, the tight walls of her cunt gripping George’s finger and trying to suck it in deeper. Her energy spent, Lucy relaxed to let her stepfather’s father slide in and out expertly. “Oh dadddddddy,” she groaned, cumming so hard she lost consciousness.

Satisfied for now, George eased aside, tasting and savouring the nectar on his finger before falling asleep next to his beautiful and serene stepdaughter.

Lucy awoke to the sound of running water, the tightness in her throat tight like a garrotte. Her stepfather was gone, a big empty gap in the bed. Hauling herself up and out, she stumbled blindly to the bathroom. George was immersed in bubbles, lying back contentedly with his eyes shut.

Without a word Lucy climbed into the tub, fitting snugly between her stepfather’s legs, her back pressed to his strong chest. “Mmm, this is just what I need, daddy.”

George smiled, kissing her neck and sending a shiver through her bones. Hands submerging, he churned the block of soap, producing a fluffy cloud of lather. Lucy braced as his firm large hands went straight for her breasts, soaping purposefully. Reaching back she located her stepfather’s cock, as hard as length of lead piping. Two strokes from her soft tiny hand and George had to brace and steal a breath, fearful of cumming.

Lucy swivelled breathlessly to face him, her body limp like a rag doll. Straddling her stepfather, she couldn’t help but impale her sopping wet pussy on the blunt bulbous head of his impressive cock. “Dadddddddy,” she groaned as the insistent erection glided in, stopped only when the hymen intervened.

Yet, without the strength to grip for support and, with the water on their bodies making the skin slippy, George was unable to offer support. A painful, albeit effective, way to lose her cherry, it was like pulling a tooth, short and sharp and bringing instant relief. Lucy yelped as her body plunged and the oblique head pierced her maidenhead. Both looked down to witness a swish of blood like sepia from a cuttlefish inseminate the bath water. The water’s warmth was therapeutic also, soothing the soreness inside Lucy’s loins.

Washing the soap from her breasts, immediately George feasted upon them as his cock eased back and forth in a slow, considerate rhythm. Lucy’s cunt gripped as tight as a vice as she rocked back and forth, hardly able to believe this was happening, and so happy it was her stepfather and not the sweet yet clumsy and inexperienced Josh that was taking her precious virginity. It was all she imagined it would be like, and more.

Lifting his foot, George pulled out the plug, the water level waning around them. Standing as Lucy held on tight, he perched on the edge of the bath, the girl clinging on like a baby koala. Steadying, George stepped out, cradling his precious little girl and laying a towel beneath her. Still wet, their bodies squelched as George positioned carefully on top of his daughter.

Their lips brushed as he manoeuvred to slot the tip of a rampant cock into the entrance of his stepdaughter’s gorgeous pink young pussy. Knowing that he was the first, the only, conferred upon George such a buzz and his cock seemed to inflate to monster proportions. “Oh daddyyyyyyy,” Lucy wailed as her cunt stretched to receive an ample appendage that was perfect for a girl’s first forays into sex.

Careful not to hurt her this time, George squeezed in inch by inch, stealing lungfuls of air, his tongue touching hers in a pulse of electric, his hands moulding her breasts. Lucy exhaled as the hard cock worked its way ever deeper until it was fully embedded in the tight wet crevice, their middles locked. George heaved another breath, marvelling at the fit, his cock gripped by the snuggest pussy it was possible to imagine.

As he drew back, shaft emerging like a sword from a holster, Lucy shut her eyes as an elongated groan vibrated her lips. A series of short stabs made her squeal with pleasure as her stepfather’s cock found depths unexplored by her fingers and opening up a whole new world of delight. In the throes of ecstasy the fever was all but forgotten, usurped by lust.

Building to a steady rhythmic pace and pumping a little more purposefully, George felt the first stirrings in his loins, the years of loneliness about to be despatched in an earth shattering orgasm. Faster he thrust, buttocks bouncing between Lucy’s thighs. Her knees raised and she locked her feet at the back of his knees as she took the pounding of her young life. Each pulsing vein sent spasms through her tummy and to each nerve end. “Oh I’m sooooooo close,” she enthused, clamping her thighs.

George could hold back no longer, his head swimming as the load shot from the eye with harpoon-like precision. He filled Lucy’s pussy was so much seed it almost pushed his cock out. The moment he came Lucy did too, the synchronicity uncanny and a precursor to future years of delicious lovemaking between the pair. Lucy lost consciousness for a few seconds, the orgasm like an electric shock.

George made to roll aside but Lucy gripped tight, utilising every last ounce of strength in her fever-wracked body to hold her stepfather’s cock inside. George smiled, consenting to her wish and they lay conjoined at the middle for minutes until finally the erection subsided and slid from the slippery slit.

Lifting her up in his arms George conveyed Lucy to her sickbed. A light kiss on the brow, he lifted the covers to enshroud his precious little girl, her tiny hand slipping from his. She was every stepfather’s dream….. ….

T H E E N D

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Another Short short Storyline

Once a Slut, Always a Slut

About 5 years ago a new landlord called Dave Menses took over the King’s Arms in Newtown, instantly rejuvenating the rundown pub with Sky Sports, Saturday night discos and karaoke, a pool table and getting a Sunday League football team up and running. Almost everything a bunch of fun-loving lads in their late 20’s could wish for in a local pub, the icing on the cake came when the landlord’s daughter Kim started working behind the bar. An 18-year old blonde sex kitten with amazing gravity-defying boobs and a pouty smile, immediately everyone was smitten with lust.

Yet surely it would be too much to expect for her to look at a bunch of guys who, whilst not quite old enough to be her father, were overweight, crass and sex-obsessed, wasn’t it? Well no, in actual fact. Kim, it seemed, thrived on the danger, flirting like it was going out of fashion. It was John ‘PCC’ Jackson, – admittedly the best-looking and slimmest amongst us – that made the first move, and by all accounts the lad was not to be left disappointed. Later that week, taking a few of us aside in a private conference, he reported in lascivious detail of how young Kim had cut short their date, desperate to get back to his place, and how he found her blowing his cock barely before they were even inside the front door.

Well, rugged and attractive to woman he might be, but PCC was no brain surgeon and pretty soon Kim grew tired and moved on. It was another of the football team, Spud Murphy, who attracted the young barmaid’s undoubted charms with similar success. Kim, by all accounts, proved to be quite the adventurous little thing we fantasised about. Yet, soon enough the flighty beauty started looking elsewhere and yours truly happened to become the lucky latest recipient of her attention. And she did not fail to live up to the billing. We spent the next three months fucking one another’s brains out before she moved on to our goalkeeper Jimmy ‘CASA’ McCartney.

Over the next year and, until she went off to university, Kim went into overdrive, screwing her way through the entire football team plus three substitutes, and back again. I ensured to get my fair share and like to think that she developed a bit of a soft spot for me. Well she had one between the legs that was the cutest pink pussy in Newtown.

As I say, that was a good few years ago, following which Kim disappeared up north to university and things returned to normal. Over the next few seasons the guys from the team either got married, got fat, lost interest or moved away, until sadly we had to finish playing altogether in September owing to lack of interest. But we still used the pub on a regular basis and the four of us had gathered that night for the traditional New Year’s Eve party. All single, we were up for a little fun and a lot of flirting. It was at that moment as we took seats in the corner that landlord Dave joined us. “Kim’s turning up later,” he disclosed.

The smug and lustful looks than ran around the quartet were priceless. “Bringing her new boyfriend along,” he added as an afterthought. “She’s changed…”

As if on cue, the front door sprung open. In sashayed the still gorgeous Kim, replete in a sexy and slinky 2-piece silver party outfit, causing a collective jaw-dropping. Now 23, if anything, she put on a little weight around the hips and tits, the latter pressed up like a couple of plum puddings. Her blonde hair was straight and shoulder length.

In tow was the latest lucky object of her desire, a clean cut and good-looking young guy with gelled brown hair. He looked a little younger than Kim by a year or two and had clearly had a result pulling the sexy little nymph. Immediately spotting our crowd in the corner, she came bounding over. “Den!” she enthused as I stood to give her a hug, my hands stroking her back almost instinctively.

She eased away, issuing similar greetings to PCC, Spud and CASA, as her boyfriend stood idly in the background, looking a little overwhelmed. Finally remembering him, Kim swiped his hand and brought him over. “Ian, these are some old friends of mine, Den, PCC, Spud and CASA. Now come and meet daddy.”

We all raised a hand in greeting and grinned at one another, the evening having taking a decided turn for the better. Kim flounced off, the hem of the skirt riding up to the top of her thighs to expose a hint of plump rump.

A second round of drinks on order, Kim found her way back, blushing as we unsubtly checked out her curves and took every opportunity to get tactile. For her part she skilfully brushed aside the overt attention, ensuring to refer to her companion pointedly as “my boyfriend” so as to leave no doubt. However, that didn’t stop PCC placing a hand on her round bum, stroking the silky soft material and administering a playful squeeze. Kim issued a stern look but made no verbal complaint.

Spud’s round, he added a vodka and lemonade for Kim and asked what Ian wanted. An initial rebuff, the youngster was eventually persuaded to accept a bottle of Bud. That meant the pair were obliged to join us at our table. Pulling up a seat, Kim was anxious to find out what we were all up to since she last saw us. As the DJ got into swing, reminiscences of a collective colourful past rang out. Nibbling on the neck of his bottle, poor Ian was somewhat excluded. Whether it occurred that each of us had had his girlfriend in just about every conceivable position wasn’t clear, but he certainly shuffled a little uncomfortably in his seat as we regaled Kim with tall tales and improbable instances. He was in for a long night.

As if to pacify, when a record came on she liked, Kim dragged him up onto the floor. A collective sigh of appreciation ran around the horny quartet as we watched the pair dance. Somewhat self-conscious, Ian shuffled stiffly. In their absence, our reminiscences took a filthy turn. PCC recalled the time he bent Kim over the bonnet of his van in the pub car park and took her roughly from behind. CASA remembered taking her fishing and an hour-long blowjob as he held his rod tightly and she did too! Spud eulogised upon a heated fuck in the showers after football. I completed the trip down memory lane by disclosing the time she gave me a handjob under my jacket in the cinema. A bunch of selfless liars and braggards at the best of times, somehow all carried an air of authenticity. CASA summed up the feeling around the table by proclaiming: “God, I want the little slut right now.”

The song came to an end and young Ian headed off to the toilet as Kim returned to our circle. A big smile on her face, clearly she had strong feelings for her handsome and fit young boyfriend. In stark contrast, we were a bunch of unfit and balding 30-somethings that were God’s Gift only in our own heads. Kim jumped when, upon sitting down, she found CASA’s hand was already there. He ensured to get a good grope of lovely arse before she wiggled free. “Oi, you can cut that out,” the beauty protested, amid a chorus of chuckles. “No, really,” she entreated, eyelashes fluttering. “Not in front of Ian…please.”

The inference that we could do whatsoever we liked, provided it wasn’t in front of Ian, seemed to occur to Kim a little too late and she blushed profusely. “Okay then, just a little kiss for old time’s sake,” CASA suggested as the rest of us provided verbal encouragement, causing Kim’s doe eyes to widen. “Aww, go on, just a little peck on the cheek,” CASA added with an innocent look on his chubby chops.

Glancing back towards the toilet door, Kim gestured at him to turn his head in profile. CASA obliged, eyes glinting, eyebrows rising. As Kim leaned in to kiss the stubbly jowl, quickly CASA turned his head, their lips meeting and crushing together. A sweaty hand moved behind her head and he held her in place until she shook clear with a breathless: “Nooooooo.”

Her face contorted like she’d been fed a vial of toxin. CASA, on the other hand, beamed like the cat that had got the cream. All looking up, we saw Ian standing behind. He didn’t look to be much enjoying himself. Only 9 o’clock, the poor lad was surely in for a torrid time unless he lightened up a little. As if to win favour, he enquired if anyone wanted a drink. We all accepted and his heart seemed to plunge as Kim chimed: “Make mine a double, honey.”

“Atta girl,” we chorused, knowing full well what a lethal combination alcohol and the naughty little minx made.

Kim smiled awkwardly but nonetheless basking in the attention of four older guys with whom she’d had intimate relations. The bar swelling with punters out to celebrate the New Year, Ian moved out of sight behind a wall of bodies. Not to be left out, I took the opportunity to make a little move of my own. Rising to head to the toilet, I brushed up close behind Kim, hands on the sides of her breasts as I squeezed past. A little sigh fell from her lips and I’m sure she issued a half-approving smile among the stern look.

When I arrived back from the leak, Ian was still at the bar, the other three not missing an opportunity to grope Kim as all subtlety evaporated. Kim slapped at stray hands and complained bitterly, but made no attempt to move away. The fact was that the only thing the pretty little prick tease hated more than attention was no attention. She realised that we were running over in our minds the times we’d fucked her senseless and I’d bet it turned her on.

Finally Ian turned up with the drinks swimming on a round metal tray and normality was restored momentarily. Leaving the pair to a private whispered conversation, we exchanged pleasantries with other regulars as the pub topped up to capacity. It was quite quaint witnessing the lovestruck youngster place a hand on his girlfriend’s knee, giving it a gentle squeeze, as if to issue a silent warning to the four lustful onlookers that she was his.

I was sure we were all thinking the same thing: how far had he gone with Kim? Maybe she HAD changed after all. Perhaps he was still waiting for the first blowjob from those gorgeous wet lips or to part those lovely thighs and thrust his cock deep into that snug pussy with its plump moist labia. Maybe Kim had found the ‘special one’ and was holding out, a kiss his only reward thus far.

And I wouldn’t have minded betting that he was agonising whether we were just good friends, or a little more. It had to have crossed the boy’s mind that there was history between us. But surely he couldn’t even start to imagine the filthy things his precious girlfriend had engaged in with us. That thought gave me an idea. It was nasty, I know, but my cock was throbbing and I wanted to see how far we could push things. “Do you remember CASA’s 30th birthday?” I threw into the conversation. “What a night!”

Kim’s breathing quickened perceptively, her bottom lip started to quiver as a blush of scarlet stained her normally pale cheeks. The others roared and banged their glasses on the tables, all of course except for Ian who sat in blissful ignorance. Kim’s eyes locked on mine, appealing and I grinned back, reliving the evening in my head in glorious detail. “Honey,” she said, growing a little anxious as thoughts turned into words. “You forgot my crisps.”

Ian looked back questioningly but rose nonetheless to head back to the bar. He seemed quite glad of the excuse, a welcome release from the bawdy reminiscences. Doubtless he was counting down the time to midnight, the poor soul. As soon as he was out of earshot, Kim raised her hands in protest. “Please, please, please, not in front of Ian,” she begged.

“Mmm, but that was one hell of a spit roast,” CASA enthused. “What a birthday present!”

Kim pouted as we recalled the night in question when the five of us went back to CASA’s flat for ‘afters’. As PCC and Spud looked on longingly, Mack ploughed into Kim from behind as she tried to suck my cock off. 10 minutes later, she did the same with PCC and Spud, ending up with two thick loads of cum leaking out of her delicious little cunt and a belly full of warm seed. Kim fanned her face furiously, shuffling in the seat. “Come on, come for a dance,” Spud ordered.

Kim’s eyes expanded and she shook her head in heightened denial. It needed a stern and threatening look from the 4 of us that spoke volumes to persuade her, supplemented by Spud’s musing: “I imagine Ian would love to hear these stories…”

“You won’t tell him, will you?” Kim pleaded in genuine distress.

As she stood, PCC ran a hand up her inner thigh, inducing a tiny whimper. Spud led her onto the floor and moments later Ian arrived back with the crisps, glancing around quizzically. “She’s just gone to the toilet,” I lied with a grin

Little did he know that his sexy girlfriend was being pawed and palmed within arm’s reach. The ironic thing was that, with his back to the floor, all apart from Ian could see Kim locked in a clinch with Spud as they gyrated. His clammy hands were all over her back, octopus-like, occasionally lowering to squeeze her arse and bring her to his crotch. Kim acted reluctant, constantly pulling back, but allowed it to continue nonetheless, persuaded by the unspoken threat. I suspect Ian guessed what was going on behind him, but he chose not to glance back as if, by doing so, it might not be happening. Yet it was, with Spud cupping Kim’s gorgeous bum cheeks and rubbing his erection into her midriff.

The song came to an end and Kim was able to slip his grasp, stealing back to the table and her boyfriend’s side. Ian issued a pursed-lip look that was hard to fathom and to which a contrite Kim responded with a consolatory expression. Ian looked around, searching for an escape route but the bar was so full of revellers these were the only seats in the house. Chomping on her packet of crisps, Kim avoided our lecherous looks and allusions to past misdemeanours.

When it was Kim’s turn at the bar, I decided it was my turn again for a little fun, following on the premise of giving her a hand. Little could she have imagined that it would be the other way round: her giving me a hand. Crowded wall to wall, we had to push through a sea of bodies, which allowed ample opportunity to rub up against the lovely Kim’s arse, smell her hair and feel her tits. My hot breath on her soft neck, I stroked the girl’s ribcage through the crimpled silver dress, palms coming to rest on those sizeable breasts. “Den, no!” she protested weakly as I rolled each diamond-hard nipple between thumb and forefinger and humped her arse. “Den, look,” she appealed, glancing over her shoulder. “I’ve changed…since then.”

“Hmm, oh really?” I replied with heavy sarcasm.

“Yes, really,” she maintained, lifting her hands in a vain attempt to brush mine from her tits.

Instead I mauled harder, really working those spongy orbs in my strong palms. Up against a wall of bodies that stretched the entire length of the bar, Kim was putty in my hands. “Please, Den,” she mouthed hoarsely.

Tilting my head forward I kissed her neck, surprising the girl with its tenderness. “So, have you and thingy, um, Ian…done things yet?” I enquired wickedly.

“No, we haven’t,” she replied huffily, shimmying free of my grasp. “We’ve only been seeing one another for six weeks.”

Six weeks! My, she had changed. “Aww, must be young love huh? And I guess he believes that you’re a good wholesome girl, yeah?”

“Yes,” she urged, head lowering. “I was young back then…and stupid.”

Fighting her way to the end of bar, we waited to catch the barman’s attention. “It’s not the same behind the bar since you left,” I lamented.

She saw right through my lame pickup, issuing a nudge in the ribs. It was then that it struck me we were so far pressed into the corner that we were virtually out of sight. Even those closest to us had their backs turned, surveying the disco. An evil idea came to mind, causing me to sigh at its ingenuity. But the fact was that I was horny as hell. Taking the mobile phone out of my pocket, I flicked onto the photo gallery. “Well, here’s a reminder of what you used to be like, in the good old days.”

Kim inhaled hard as the picture of her pretty cum-splattered face filled the tiny screen, a stark reminder indeed. “Oh my God, Den no…”

I grinned, feeling an increased tightening in my groin. “Okay, whilst we’re waiting to be served…” I mused, taking Kim’s right hand and placing it over the bulge in my trousers that was exuding warmth.

“Oh God Den, no, not here…” she protested.

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” I replied with disdain. “Now there’s a good girl, get on with it.”

Kim sighed miserably though I wasn’t sure whether it was mere play-acting. I’d a funny feeling she was getting somewhat wet between the legs just thinking about it. The girl thrived on danger and thrill. The former slut who, I was far from convinced was a reformed character, slid down the zip and fished around inside, unveiling the purple and bulbous cock tip she used to adore. In the shadow of the bar she began to caress the semi hard shaft. Within moments it began to inflate in her tiny fingers. Reaching across, I placed a hand on her bum, squeezing it. “I can’t believe I’m doing this in a pub full of people,” she exclaimed breathlessly, startling as my hand roved south, finding bare thigh and stroking.

“Just remember the beach, the museum, the motorway…?” I reminded her, citing just a small percentage of the places she’d either wanked or blown me back then.

It had the desired effect, for she upped the ministrations, her tiny fist sliding back and forth on my rock hard manhood. I whispered in her ear what a lovely little slut she was, to which she issued a look that was half pride, half misery. My precum was flowing freely by now and staining Kim’s fingers as she stroked. Stopping momentarily, she instinctively lifted the sticky digits to her lips to taste. “Once a slut, always a slut,” I remarked, cock jerking until she took it back firmly in hand.

Toying with the bottom of the dress, I in turn smoothed the light material up off her upper thigh and onto her arse cheek. She startled as the warm air brushed the exposed flesh. I discovered that she wore a pretty white thong beneath, tracing the line of the string down the cleft before pushing up on her pussy. She gasped and gripped my prick even more tightly, stroking firmly. Easing the patch of material aside, I let the fingertip nestle a moment in the soft cunt crack, waiting for Kim to push down upon it like in the past. She did not disappoint, lowering eagerly. Grinning, I pushed upward till it was completely submerged.

I was right: she WAS soaking wet, all that sex talk, flirting and touching doubtless having turned her on no end. The lush lips parted easily and, as I moved my finger about, a few bubbles of juice popped. The vaginal walls clung snugly to the roving digit, trapping it inside. “Damn, you love it,” I mouthed, moving my finger up and down with purpose.

“Nooooooo, please,” she countered unconvincingly as I found her swollen clit.

Finally the barman arrived in front of us and Kim tried to compose herself, ordering the round in revered tones, interspersed with little gasps as I tweaked her love button and she wanked me. Leaning in, I confided in her ear that I was close and that she wasn’t to make a mess under the bar. She knew exactly what I meant, pretending to drop her purse. My finger slid out of her cunt tunnel, glazed in sticky juices. I tasted, savouring the rich musky fluid. On her knees beneath the bar, she wanked furiously before plunging her lips to plug my cock tip. I came with real vigour, pumping wad after wad of thick creamy cum into her sweet mouth.

With little choice but to swallow, Kim did so eagerly, before rising quickly to her feet just as one stray dollop coated her philtrum. She hadn’t noticed and anyway it looked as if she had a runny nose. “I’ll finish you off later,” I whispered in her ear, nuzzling at it and kissing down to her neck, sending a discernible shiver through her body.

The drinks paid for, we conveyed them back to the table. My sperm was still on her top lip as we sat down, amid knowing smiles from the others, except Ian who clearly didn’t credit what had just happened. But the others knew me only too well. “You are my hero, Den Boy,” Spud enthused, offering a high five.

Kim gazed down forlornly, avoiding the burning eyes. As she did so, the stray seed dislodged and trickled onto her top lip. Feeling a little tickle she stuck out her tongue, tasting the thick salty deposit. With an exasperated squeal, she jumped up and sprinted to the ladies. We chuckled amongst ourselves as Ian sat uncomfortably, twiddling his thumbs and wishing he was somewhere else.

Having cleaned up and composed herself, Kim returned to relieve him. Well sort of, though I wouldn’t have minded betting that, after 6 weeks of dating the dirty little minx, the type of relief Ian craved was somewhat different. Little did he realise I’d just pumped ten cc’s of spunk down his girlfriend’s throat and was busily planning how to take things further – much further.

The night proceeded pretty uneventfully and, as the beer went down, so did the inhibitions, even Ian’s. Doubtless he was looking forward to getting Kim upstairs later to fuck her brains out. What a perfect way to start the New Year! We looked on as Kim dragged her boyfriend up to dance and he placed his hands on her backside a little tentatively. They looked such a perfect couple. PCC had to go and spoil the mood by taking an excuse-me, leaving Ian to traipse back dejectedly to the table. “Never mind, son,” sympathised Spud hollowly, ruffling his hair like he was 10 years old.

We observed as PCC swung Kim around like a rag doll, taking every opportunity to paw and maul at her gorgeous lumps and bumps. Rising, the other three of us surrounded the girl and enjoyed a group grope. CASA whooped with glee as a tug at the thong caused it to slide down to Kim’s knees. She tried desperately to pull it back up but four pairs of strong hands stopped her. In the enduing struggle the tiny garment was ripped to shreds. The hem of the skirt at mid thigh, Kim was very exposed and would have to spend the rest of the night that way. When she was allowed to return to Ian, she ensured to keep her knees pressed tightly together though it was possible to make out the scent of pussy amid the smoke and body odour.

Midnight arrived with a live TV link on the big screen and a countdown by Big Ben, marked by streamers flying through the air, whoops and cheers and, of course, lots of kisses. Ian could only watch in stunned silence as PCC grabbed his girl and forced his tongue down her throat. Spud and CASA followed suit with equal lack of subtlety before Kim tottered my way, throwing her arms around my neck resignedly.

I lifted her lithe body to mine, feasting on her delicious mouth. All resistance shot to pieces, she made no attempt to stop my tongue roving over hers, though it was just a little disconcerting knowing that there might still be traces of my cum inside. With the other 3 looking on in awe, my hands slipped down her spine to the tops of her thighs. Lifting the hem quickly, I exposed her gorgeous bare arse to them. They cheered more loudly than at midnight. Realising her predicament, Kim scrambled free, chastising me drunkenly before falling into the arms of her waiting boyfriend, as if that might protect her.

¾ of an hour passed and the pub had begun thinning out when Dave the landlord came over. “We’re closing at one o’clock, lads,” he disclosed. “But you 4 are more than welcome to come upstairs for a late one.”

I was just about to turn down the generous offer when it occurred to me that Kim would doubtless be staying too. Now what a pleasant thought that was! Evidently the other three realised it too as they were quick to accept. As more couples drifted away into the cold and foggy night, the pub cleared until just seven of us remained. Ian’s heart seemed to plunge when it dawned on him that we weren’t leaving like the others. Dave grabbed a bucketful of beers and a bottle of tequila and we headed upstairs. Half-pissed, half-pissed off, young Ian slumped down in an armchair and covetously pulled Kim into his lap.

The rest of us sat around necking Buds and chatting about football with Dave for an hour. When the Buds disappeared we moved on to tequila, complete with the salt thing drunken people do. Even young Ian joined in though he looked weary-eyed, forcing himself to stay awake in a vain attempt to out-drink us and impress Kim as she snuggled in his lap. Another hour elapsed before her father issued a huge yawn and announced he was going to bed. He said we were welcome to stay and that Kim would let us out.

The expression on Ian’s face when he realised we were staying even longer was priceless as his world imploded. We consoled him with a treble measure of tequila. Still desperate to appear big in front of the group of older men and his cute girlfriend, he downed the glass in one. A big mistake, the youngster gagged and spluttered, spraying the contents all over Kim’s top. With a squeal she jumped off his lap. “Look what you’ve done, you…arrrgggh.”

A large wet patch had appeared across Kim’s breasts, accentuating the nipples beneath that had sprouted proudly. Ian’s eyes rolled in his head and he seemed to lose consciousness as a chorus of “Get ’em off, get ’em off, get ’em off,” rang around the rowdy group of perverted onlookers. As Kim flustered, CASA seized the initiative by grabbing a slender wrist and pulling the beauty onto his lap. As Kim fell back and her feet elevated, the skirt rode up obscenely and we all got a glimpse of pink snatch.

With the girl in his lap and poor Ian making facial expressions like a floundering fish that had given up fighting, CASA fumbled at Kim’s waist, rolling up the silver top to just beneath her breasts. A little too drunk or too tired, or both perhaps, she offered little resistance, lifting her arms up straight above the head. A tug and the top came off in CASA’s hands, leaving Kim in just a pretty white lacy half-cup and the tiny skirt. Her awesome tits jiggled as she squirmed around in CASA’s lap, almost threatening to spill out over the top. Not one to pass up an opportunity such as this, he reached around, goalkeeper hands forming two large claws. They clamped tight around the bouncy boobs, squeezing purposefully to mould an impressive cleavage.

From his vantage point on the adjacent armchair, young Ian could only watch dumbly as his pretty young girlfriend was mauled relentlessly. Kim’s mouth formed a heart shape and she let out a whimper as CASA’s thumbs grazed back and forth across each hard nipple through the bra. CASA pawed so manfully that eventually the right breast worked free of its cup. It jiggled and heaved but remained staunchly firm and in place, the nipple sticking out like a liquorice comfort. The other three of us all seemed to ease in closer, breath racing, licking our lips and nursing throbbing erections.

Draping Kim’s arm over his shoulder, CASA craned in and took the delicious-looking teat between his lips, sucking with lustful intent. Only realising her predicament too late at the hands of four horny perverts did Kim pull back and try to raise an objection, glancing over appealingly at her boyfriend. Yet he was in no state to offer assistance, staring back through glazed eyes and seeming to shrug in helpless acceptance. Pulling her back to him forcefully, CASA chewed on the nipple as a hand found its way to her thigh. Kim tried to wriggle free but merely succeeded in pushing the skirt up her hips to expose the lovely pink cunt beneath.

All of this was too much for PCC who literally leapt from the couch, falling to his knees before the girl. Reaching out, he pushed her thighs apart, the skirt compressing at her waist, before burying his face in moist crotch. All we could hear were furious slurping sounds as PCC feasted upon that hot young pussy, interlaced with Kim’s whines of appreciation. Up top, freeing the other breast from its cup, CASA continued to grope. PCC moved higher, kissing her belly as he unzipped his jeans in readiness.

Taking out a nice hard cock, PCC drew back the foreskin and pressed his cock tip to Kim’s pussy slit as CASA lifted her arse. Kim reached up to place her hands on PCC’s shoulders, groaning as the bloated head worked its way into her cunt and spreading those gorgeous lips wide. As CASA took the opportunity to free himself from behind, Kim was laid down by PCC on her back, lengthways on the couch. Barely losing contact, PCC angled to rest on top, between her legs, embarking upon a nice powerful pump action, his hairy buttocks bouncing up and down as Kim groaned.

Horny as fuck and with Kim’s musky scent wafting through the room, CASA moved into position at the head, tilting Kim’s cheek and moving her face on its side before feeding his cock into the welcoming mouth. For 30 seconds she sucked and licked with relish whilst CASA told her in no uncertain terms what a filthy little cocksucking whore she was. Aware that there were two more hungry cocks to feed – three if you counted young Ian – he upped the tempo, fucking her mouth to match the rhythm of PCC.

Wholly engrossed by the scene, momentarily I glanced across at Spud who was rubbing a discernible bulge through his jeans. Neither of us, it seemed, could wait to get a turn. Young Ian was watching as well, dumbstruck yet enchanted by the salacious scene, and powerless to act as his girlfriend was turned back into a cheap slut before his very eyes. “Fuck this,” complained a desperate Spud as his cock strained at the leash, unzipping and allowing it a welcome release before palming gently.

Thankfully the wait was not an onerous one. Kim was so damned sexy, it was impossible to go on more than 10 minutes. CASA reached a climax first, pulling his cock from Kim’s mouth as the first line of cum stretched from the eye to her lips like the string on a spider’s web covered in early morning dew. Slapping the head on her chin as he came properly with gusto, a slither of seed lassoed Kim’s face obliquely. Teasing the base with eager fingers, CASA milked out a couple more loads, directly into Kim’s pretty little waiting mouth. We all watched as she swallowed hungrily and pleaded for more with her eyes.

Only too happy to oblige, Spud was there in a flash, nearly knocking me over in the rush. Picking up where CASA had left off, he prepared to administer an oral pounding. Kim’s eyes twinkled at the inflated head aiming at her mouth, opening wide to receive. Spud jammed the tiny hole with his imperious girth, before slotting in right up to the balls. Kim gagged but managed to compose as her mouth was fucked mercilessly.

Down below, PCC was equally as merciless and defying logic as he clocked up 15 minutes, pounding Kim’s cunt until it was soft and pliable, buttocks animated. Lifting the girl’s legs upright, he adjusted on to his knees, pushing deep into her cervix. Thrusting with force, the sound of cock slapping womb wall filled the room. Ten more powerful strokes and he gave notice that he was about to cum. Letting Spud’s cock fall momentarily from her lips, Kim banged her fists and squealed at him: “Oh God, yeah, cum hard inside my slutty little…”

The sentence hung in the air as a desperate Spud forced his cock back in her mouth and started to pound with purpose. Her cheeks were bloated and the tip could clearly be seen as it made upward sorties. This was proving all too much for me and I had to ease the tension on my throbbing cock, pulling it out in readiness. It felt good in my hand but I needed to shove it in Kim for old time’s sake. Having cum just a few hours earlier, the filthy little tramp was in for the ride of her life.

With a huge grunt, PCC pumped his thick seed deep into Kim’s belly. She must have cum too for she thrashed wildly, once more neglecting Spud’s cock, and letting out a banshee-like wail that we all feared might wake her father. Anxious looks aside, the bedroom door remained shut. Spud rectified the situation by plugging the hole once more, muting Kim’s heightened squeals in thick manhood. Holding there for precious moments until his cock had deflated, PCC finally moved aside, tottering towards me like an old man on his last legs. I just managed to swerve out of the way before he collapsed, gasping for air on the opposite couch from Kim’s prone body.

At least it was prone until Spud dictated a change of position. Seated, his cock upright and rock hard, Kim climbed to her knees, sucking with vigour once more as he gripped her hair and called her slut names. I’d rarely known a girl get off so much on such verbal abuse but Kim seemed to adore it. Her sexy bottom wiggled seductively as I homed in to claim my prize. However, the sight of PCC’s seed gurgling in the hole and snaking down the girl’s inner thigh very nearly made me retch. Taking a moment to contemplate, there was only one thing for it. I rubbed my hands in sheer glee.

Looking around I saw that PCC had regained his composure and, having been joined by CASA on the other couch, the pair had become interested spectators. They realised exactly what was coming, something we’d discussed but which none of us had managed with Kim. To be fair, back then it didn’t have the kudos it now seems to enjoy. “Den’s going for the arsehole!” rang out the gasp.

Now, as far as I knew, this was as close to virgin territory as it was possible to find with Kim. Looking around I saw young Ian, seemingly over the worst of his alcoholism and watching mesmerised, totally gripped by the scene as his girlfriend was ravaged senseless. “Come here,” I commanded, having another thought.

When he refused, pushing back into the armchair protectively, I reached over and grabbed the youngster by the scruff of the neck. “Your boyfriend’s going to lick your arse,” I informed Kim.

Both shook their heads in denial, Kim’s still wrapped around Spud’s shaft, but I was having none of it. I could of course have gone to the bathroom and found some Vaseline or cream, but the idea of seeing this naïve young man lick his girlfriend’s dirty brown ring was rather appealing. “Do it,” I ordered in my most menacing tone, supplementing the words with a shove,

He moved gingerly at first, tongue poking through his teeth but rearing back. It needed another shove, and it was probably just as well he was as high as a kite. The tip of his tongue made wet contact with Kim’s anus and a shudder passed right through her body. That coincided with Spud exploding in her mouth and rattling off a volley of slut names. He made sure she swallowed every drop and cleaned the sticky knob thoroughly before moving away to survey the glorious scene I was directing.

Holding Ian’s head in place I ensured he gave his girlfriend’s arsehole a good hard tongue-lashing before I was satisfied. Kim seemed to absolutely fucking love it, writhing and moaning as reams of Jacko’s spunk dislodged and snaked down her inner thigh. Ian actually got so into it too that he prised her bum cheeks apart and tried to bury his tongue in her anal cavity. It was a lovely scene, but I had needs and a cock so hard and painful it felt like it had been hit with a hammer.

Easing him aside, I moved up close and pressed the tip of my throbbing cock to the dripping wet anal entrance. His saliva around the rim made a wonderful lube. Kim groaned and thrashed and sought solace with a cushion, hugging it tight as I worked the fat head into her snug bum hole. The walls gripped vice-like. “Eee-ew,” she moaned as I held her hips and angled to get some shaft in too.

From the wings, Ian was watching with a childlike wonder as his girlfriend’s tight little arse was stretched around my girth, the muscles yielding to the force I exerted. I wanted Kim’s arse so badly it was untrue. Three other pairs of eyes watched intently from the other side as inch by inch the shaft disappeared into Kim’s brown ring. For her part, I have to say she took it extremely well, just a clenched fist and a sucking-in of air through gritted teeth as slowly but surely her virgin arse was invaded with stiff manhood. The walls gripped so tight to the shaft that I was convinced I’d be dismembered. Feeling the scrub of tangled pubic hair finally brush the soft flesh of her arse cheek, Kim let out a huge sigh of relief.

I grinned as, unable to contain his urges any longer, Ian allowed a hand to crawl up his girlfriend’s thigh to her pussy, whilst the other rested on his now exposed cock. Well, he could hardly be blamed getting turned on under these extenuating circumstances with his girlfriend’s anus being stretched to breaking and her passionate cries filling the room. Drawing back, I gathered a breath and started pushing back and forth, gently at first as her freshly plucked anal cherry would allow. A series of heightened moans fell from Kim’s lips as her arse was worked into a malleable state. Young Ian’s fist was blurring on the shaft as arousal replaced revulsion. And evidently his other hand had found Kim’s clit for she screeched with joy. “Get under there and fuck her,” I ordered.

Sheepish at first, he needed a little more encouragement to move into place, with Kim’s body literally lying on his as he pushed into her cunt. Working his buttocks eagerly, soon his prick was fully embedded in tight twat and he found a pulsing rhythm to match mine. With Kim’s soft tits splaying to the sides, I took hold of them and squeezed playfully as my cock pistoned in and out. “Oh God, I’m so full,” groaned Kim, banging her palms back on the couch.

It was true. There was little more than a thin membrane of flesh between mine and her boyfriend’s cocks. So much so that I could feel his thrusts and he mine. Growing more excited beneath the spread body of his sexy girlfriend, he started to increase the pace, in turn emboldening me to do so till I was fucking Kim’s arse with ardour. We went at it hard like two adversaries trying to outdo one another, ravaging both of Kim’s stretched holes till she screamed. Again there were anxious looks towards her father’s bedroom door.

With his lack of experience, understandably Ian was first to cum, firing what felt like a huge wad of semen into Kim’s womb, reverberating so I could feel it. Six weeks of pent-up desire was released in several more spurts. Instead of moving aside as I expected, he remained in place, kissing his girlfriend tenderly as she was buggered senseless. It was such a heart-rending, loving scene to witness that it drove me right over the edge. “Fuck, I’m cumming!” I roared, spanking her arse.

Kim squealed as I ploughed deep and emptied my balls into her bowels in one huge explosive orgasm. It felt like I might never stop cumming, surpassing young Ian’s volume. As I pulled out, Kim’s body went limp and she collapsed in Ian’s arms, the pair hugging one another tightly on the floor. Adjusting, I pulled up my boxers and jeans. I must remember to thank Dave for having us back, I thought. “Happy New Year,” rang out the dawn chorus as we left the pub in the wee small hours.

Now, I wondered what my New Year Resolution should be.

E N D

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