Lisa Returns Ch. 02

It had been 4 weeks after our first sex. When I woke up the next morning, Lisa had already gotten up and went to work. I didn't have the chance to give her the first morning kiss as lovers. Lovers, I had thought.

But it didn't turn out that we were lovers after that night.

I have to give it up to Lisa. She made everything looked so normal like usual and indeed nothing really changed after that night. We were still only close companions. She always walked away from me as I walked towards her wanting to get a hug or a kiss. She still let me cuddle in front of tv but as I made advancing moves, she would go to bed. I came to realize that the night was out of her character and mine, and we would not do it again.

The lack of physical love turned my feelings towards her to one of lust and longing. It shouldn't have been that way, but I couldn't control it. I began to peek at her, especially when we cuddled, trying to peep down her shirt. She normally wouldn't wear a bra at home, so I always caught a glimpse of her pale soft B cup breasts. I always tried hard not to move my hands towards her breasts, but uncontrollably, my fingers seemed to always get sucked to them.

At times, as I did laundry in the day after school, I would hold onto her panties a little longer, to feel them, to search for a tinge of wetness. I actually sniffed them a few times, an action I always thought was gross before. I cupped her bras, fantasizing that her breasts were the ones I was fondering beneath. I felt her silky nightgown, wishing for the moment that I can finally pull it up to her hip level to expose her pussy. I regret not tasting and eating her hot, wet, tight pussy that night. I searched my tongue in the air and poked my fingers beneath the nightgown, like I would search her pussy for that spot with my tongue and fingers. It was wrong to think that way.

I did things to please her, hoping to be rewarded with a kiss, or a hug, or a deliberate touch of skin. Although I still always cuddled her on couch every night, it was routine, not something I desired. I always searched my hands through her body slowly and unknowingly to her, stealing a rub on the ass or a brush on the side of her tits, The punishment was either being alone in the living room or banished to my bedroom, but she never complained to me on my intruding actions, even though I always felt guilty violating her. That was the painful part. Had she just screamed off at me to stop, I would have bitten my lips and left the house, and move on. But she did not.

She wanted me.

No she didn't.

Yes she did.

No she didn't.

.........

In the night, as I passed by her room, I always fantasized what she was doing behind the door. Was she sleeping? Was she changing? Was she masturbating? One night, I heard noises in her room, and I opened the door to find her moaning on bed in pleasure. I could see from the silhouette that she was in a doggy style. There was no buzzing sound, she must be masturbating with her fingers or a dildo. Her voice got muffled as her breathings got louder. She must be bitting onto her pillows to quieten herself. I could see her hip moving backwards and forwards to meet whatever tools she was using to pleasure herself.

I wished I had the courage to sneaked behind her and hump my cock into her pussy from behind, and go deep, hard and fast into her needy pussy. I would pull her hair to make her arch even more, to receive it even deeper as I banged my balls into her ass. I would slap her ass till they get red. She would not be in a position to resist, I thought. But my ego was against it, as I could not accept any possible rejection.

"Oh.... ugh... George... George..." She moaned as it was clear she was climaxing.

She cried out that bastard's name! She was still in love with her, she must be. The guy who hurt her was the guy she still loved. I was upset, but at the same time I had a rock hard cock to fix up, which I did in the bathroom later.