Reboot Trailers 01 (version 2)

I used the momentary confusion engendered by the ongoing movie scene chaos to give in to an overwhelming primal need to bury my tool deeper into the tight seal of her fist. My hips moved of their own accord, discreetly thrusting forward a number of times into her hand, as I continued to grind my teeth to hold back orgasmic whimpers even as I shot my seed again and again.

Kaylee herself seemed to struggle with wanting to cry out in amused victory at this point, that wicked smile which only I could notice seemed to threaten to explode into disdainful laughter. She kept it together though, silently tugging at the base of my cock, squeezing me as it pulsed with each new spurt into my inseam.

My fiancée didn't even exist to me at that moment... there was no thought of upcoming wedding in my mind... it was immaterial that I was engaged, or even that my clueless wife-to-be was holding my hand that moment... --the only thing that mattered in all the world to me at that point in time was Kaylee. The incredibly mind-blowing, toe-curling release I was experiencing, brought about solely by her intuitive sense of the most ruinous finger configurations to employ; the perfect pressure at the precise times; the most maddening rhythms. The ease by which her perverted persistence and libidinous proficient palm had gained indomitable sway over me. Her implausibly expert mastery of male control through masturbatory technique.

And, moments later, I had another realization: a dimly-recognized amazement that I was still spewing. Massively. Continuously. With cruel college co-ed capacity, Kaylee was somehow interminably prolonging my agony, sustaining the volcanic churning and release of my ball butter.

Shutting my eyes in ecstasy and embarrassment, I felt myself soak the insides of my sleepwear, cum trickling down on her hand, on my thigh, possibly everywhere under the blanket around the perimeter of my still-pulsating penis.

Even when it was all over, Kaylee continued to squeeze me a few times, give me a series of imperceptively quick, frenetic strokes, followed by slow, lengthy pumping. A perverted pause, just for a moment, as if to offer me small hope she was finally all done. At which point she'd then naughtily start up to repeat this tortuously orgasmic technique. Again. And again. All the while keeping to the appearance of holding all her attention on the film's various converging, concluding plot-lines.

Kaylee certainly looked during the final minutes of the movie at least as attentive as Melissa was... --from the corner of an eye near-blinded in mind-blown bliss, I saw that my betrothed remained focused on the screen in her blithe still-unaware state, her mouth still open in terror. Her younger sibling outwardly appeared just as entranced by the movie, but a dead giveaway to her fiendishly sinful behavior was the situational incongruity of that shameless smirk. Her full wet lips lifted yet higher at the corners; she so obviously was taking perverse pleasure in knowing I was struggling to ignore that terribly wicked grin.

Finally, thankfully, Kaylee invisibly withdrew her hand from my lap and left me alone. I sat there in between both girls, completely humiliated, barely in control of the post-release spasms that wracked my body. Unknown to my fiancée, I had allowed her little sister to jack me off. Right fucking next to her.

And I'll be damned if it wasn't the most extended, most sublimely intense orgasm I've ever had in my life.

IV

The final musical score began to play its first wailing notes, signaling the near-end of the film and setting the atmosphere for the heroine's mandatory soliloquy and the upcoming roll of credits. Melissa sat silently, wrapped-up in drained thought, recovering from the film's unexpected happy ending. Meanwhile, I, too, sat in spent silence, near-drained and unable to hold a clear thought, barely recovering from my own happy endings. Only Kaylee seemed overly animated, looking very much like the cat that got the cream. Which she had, literally. My heart stopped when she looked past me to Melissa, half-singing, "Think there's still some 'pop' left in Peter's sack?"

Melissa passed the near-empty popcorn bag over without looking, still taking in the cheesy final narration of the film's sole survivor.

With that same hand that had effortlessly broke my floodgates and brought me low, Kaylee delicately took a last morsel into her open mouth, chewed playfully, and licked off her fingers slowly while locking her eyes on mine with a half-sated hunger, smiling "Mmmmm. Thanks for sharing. Looove your private butter."

At those teasing words, my face contorted into a mask of embarrassingly unexpected euphoria, while my body gave an involuntary twitch; my erection had let loose an unbidden sudden squirt, on its own. She let out a very soft squeal of pleasure, fully cognizant of what had just happened to me under the blanket, untouched. Melissa finally snapped to attention and looked away from the credits to us, quizzical and confused.

After the movie was finally over, Kaylee was first to telegraph movement, as if starting to get up off the couch. She stretched and twisted her back while still seated in place. I noted with a wary sideways glimpse at her that she had a malicious twinkle in her eye, as if she was planning something. She knew I was still stealing glances at her at that moment, even as I was apprehensive at being found out by her sister. The movie's over, Melissa's right here, I can't appear to be looking at her, so there's nothing else she can do, right?

It occurred to me, just from her look, that she wanted to see if, hands-free, she could get me to spill again.

My fearful speculation was not far off. Melissa was now preoccupied again, busy with the remote and flicking through the movie's easter eggs; Kaylee and I had seen the movie before, so it must've appeared not at all out of place to Melissa that we would not be interested in those bonus features a second time. Kaylee assessed her sister's preoccupation, then, satisfied, dramatically arched her back again, while giving me an impish glance that failed to hide a palpable depraved ambition. Her enticing last stretch almost seemed to cause her taut teats to tear through her shirt.

She pulled the blanket off her, seductively bending her torso to rub her foot, as if to get some circulation back in her. Not only did this well-designed titillation draw my discreet attention to her superbly-shaped legs, but her intentional arched lean forward bestowed me another long inconspicuous look --through those over-sized arm holes-- at the profile of her exquisitely-shaped shirt puppies. Not freakishly oversized for her frame to be off-putting, not too small to be uninteresting either --shit, just naturally perfect. I gulped in hardened admiration. Suspended, they swayed and jiggled gently with her every leisured massage of her leg. A wide beguiling smile played on Kaylee's face; she knew I was using my peripheral vision to take in every bit of her.

Oh. Oh no fuck. Fuck me. Really? I vainly tried to weather her alluring undulations, but even without a hand on me, this harlot somehow had her hooks in my happy spot -- I shut my eyes, tried to erase the image of her orgasmic expression from my imagination, and valiantly fought to deny eruption of even a dribble, to no avail. From the agonized lump in my throat and transient pulsing tremors on my still-covered lap, she knew she had successfully wrung out a final reluctant gush from me.

Kaylee left for the kitchen, beaming and shaking her head in disbelieving self-satisfied elation. She brought the empty popcorn bag with her, leaving me there with Melissa --my heart had been racing a mile a minute, not knowing what to say or do next. Praying that she didn't know what had happened... and that she wouldn't find out. I made damn sure my hands stayed in my lap, forcing the blanket on me so she wouldn't noticed my, um, guilt.

Fuck fuck fuck how do I get out of this?

After letting me awkwardly stew for a minute, me making strange wedding planning small talk with Melissa, Kaylee stepped half-way from the kitchen, asking for her help with something. As Melissa headed over, raving over Kaylee's movie rental choice, I heard her younger sister guilelessly reply, "Glad you liked it, sis. Although I'm sure you wouldn't have liked the plot much if you knew what was going on, and what was going to happen next, like your hubby-to-be and I did...". She smiled brightly at Melissa, her eyes dancing, and then affixed her gaze on mine. God, did she just smirk at me with Melissa right there?

I remained seated on the couch, still sticky, tingly, and weak, gathering my strength. A few steps away, Kaylee's movie-critic conversation with Melissa continued to be accompanied by unusually lively gesticulations. To her older sister, it must've appeared like Kaylee just being Kaylee, talking with her hands again. But to my now-circumspect awareness, I could see Kaylee deviously providing Melissa a covert visual recap of some of the one-handed fistic techniques she had applied on her compliant fiancé, right under her nose. What was coming out of her mouth had nothing to do with her stimulating hand motions, it was clear to me. But incontrovertibly, it had everything to do with what had come out of me earlier.

I hardened again, watching her, as I realized the breadth of her playbook and spread-offense: I saw her hands relive the apple polish, the starfish scratch, the slow OK, the back-and-forth swirl, and many other manipulative metacarpal methodologies that had toyed with my tool only minutes before. Every so often, after punctuating her ongoing impeccant stories with a favored finger position, her eyes would drill into mine. She looked positively moist that I knew all this was going over Melissa's head, and that she was getting away with it. And she beamed in tickled pride at my face registering lustful recognition as her hands acted out those creative, controlling routines responsible for my earlier regulation and release. My toes actually curled and clenched like a fist, as still-fresh muscle memory made my crotch contract in pleasure.

She went on to continue in a bubbly voice, "--yeah, I just lost myself in the movie, too, Mel. I can see myself playing that hot agent character. You know, doing secret seduction stuff, sneaking around, -the exciting hands-on work, undercover ...". She looked over to me, winking dirtily, as she said all that, emphasizing certain words naughtily. She made sure her older sister didn't catch her making eyes with me then.

Melissa passed her at the entryway to the kitchen, so with my fiancée's back to both of us Kaylee was able to bid me a final goodnight just as I, on trembling rubber legs, started up from the couch to hobble a getaway: she mimicked a slow hand job in front of her parted lips, giving me that excruciatingly sexy 'signature look' of hers --one raised brow, an orgasm-imploring expression, a soft, partially-open mouth that broke into a taunting smirk. As she slowly swiveled to pad after my fiancée into the kitchen, she teasingly offered me a last long peek at her gently-swinging side-boob, giving me an arousing over-her-shoulder look, smiling as she softly articulated, "Welcome, Peter".

(end of rebooted scene trailer)

V

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