Working with the Girls Ch. 05

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Olga stays a little longer.
4.9k words
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Part 5 of the 6 part series

Updated 10/28/2022
Created 08/28/2008
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Chaingun
Chaingun
56 Followers

Standing in my kitchen trying to decide what to make for dinner, I could hear the shower run for a long time. I tried to think of what a woman from Germany might like after two vigorous fucks in less than an hour, and all I could come up with was canned German potato salad and grilled brats. "Too cliché," I decided, so I put a pot of water on the stove and started making spaghetti.

Since all I had on was a t-shirt and gym shorts, I went into the house's other bathroom to try to clean myself up some. I stripped down and stood in the tub, and starting with my face, scrubbed off everything that had ended up on my face, chest, hands, and crotch. The hot water felt good and I emerged from the quick shower ready to eat and get back to work making sure that Olga had just as hard a time walking tomorrow as her sister did today. I dropped the pasta into the water, added a little oil to keep the pot from boiling over, and went back to the bathroom sink where I put on some deodorant and brushed my teeth for good measure. Since it is my experience that ladies don't like stubble scraping their thighs, I shaved for the second time that day.

I remembered the scene in The Hustler where Newman and Gleason are having the marathon pool game that goes on all night. When both players appear exhausted, rumpled, and mentally drained by the all night game, Gleason goes and starts washing up and Newman smiles to himself thinking that he's worn Fats down. When he's freshly scrubbed, buttoned, and combed, Gleason steps out to get back to it, fresh and ready to go, which surprised the shit out of Fast Eddie.

Once I was freshly clean, I put on a nice pair of pants, a striped button down shirt, and dress shoes. "She won't know what hit her," I said to my reflection.

When I walked back into the room carrying the two plates of pasta, she was on my phone twirling the cord in her fingers like a sixteen year old talking to her first crush. I could only hear her side of it, but pretended to ignore her.

"Yeah, Hon. It was wonderful. I know...I know what you mean...Me too...But how are you feeling now?" Her eyes followed me as I walked in but she said nothing to me.

I set the plates down on a coffee table and headed back towards the kitchen to get the drinks. Before returning, I turned down the air conditioner in the house a couple more degrees. I carried the two tall glasses of ice water back through my house and re-entered the living room. I caught the tail end of the conversation.

"...don't have to work tomorrow." She glanced up at me, listened to the other party, and continued, "You and me both...No, I'm pretty sure I won't be able to do that...Ok, then...Bye."

"Water ok?" I asked her as she hung up.

"Sure, I'm thirsty as hell."

"I'm sure. Dig in," I replied as she padded across the room in her bare feet and wearing the yellow sundress that she'd had on when she arrived.

She was ravenous and devoured the plate quickly. Every once in a while, I could feel her sideways glance as she tried to figure out why I was dressed nicely. When she'd finished her plate, I offered her what was left of mine. She made this disappear quickly as well. I refilled her water glass twice during the meal which allowed me to walk out of the room a few more times. I spied the bathroom's towel rack and noticed that the green thong was missing. "Surely she didn't put it back on; it's gotta still be wet," I mused.

Outside of the room, her purse was where she'd dropped it and since I was out of her sight, I checked it quickly. The drying thong was neatly folded inside. "Disobedient girl," I chided to myself. I took it out and carried it to the kitchen with me, smoothed it perfectly flat, sealed it in a big zip-loc bag, and put it in the freezer. "Won't look for it there," I laughed, "and sure as hell won't be wearing that home."

On my way back with a third glass of water, inspiration struck. I stopped at her purse again and quietly removed the Toyota key from her key ring. I didn't plan to hold her against her will, but she damned sure wasn't leaving anytime soon. I quickly wrote a note to her on a post-it and slipped it down into her purse near her wallet.

The smell of wet girl was still evident when I got back to the living room with her drink. When long haired girls wash their locks, it always seems to take longer for their hair to dry and that smell that they carry around with them for hours has always been a turn on for me. Olga's slick hair was combed back straight from her face and her pretty sundress hung from her shoulders as she sat with her bare feet propped on my coffee table. I made one more trip to the kitchen, carrying the two empty plates back to the sink. The vision of the freshly washed and beautiful girl was getting me started again and I knew that soon I would have to have her again.

When I re-entered the room, she had finished almost half of her third glass of water. She sat up straight with her legs crossed watching me as I walked towards her. "Going somewhere?" she asked.

"No, why?" I feigned confusion.

"Well, you cleaned yourself up and got dressed up. Where are you going?"

"Down on you," I laughingly said.

Her surprised look told me that she really had believed that we were done. "Again? What are you, a machine?"

I knelt in front of her and caressed her calves. My hand worked down to her soft feet and back up to her knees. I insistently prodded them apart while never stopping the light massage that I gave those smooth gams. "Nope, not a machine, just a horny guy with a pretty girl...who could blame me?"

"I don't know Dave; I'm used up. Any more of that and I won't be able to walk for days."

"Like your sister?" A hand on the inside of each knee gently pried them apart. She reluctantly allowed me to do it, but I could still feel her resistance. I slid a hand along her thighs back to her ass and slid her forward to the edge, an action that caused her hem to ride up almost to her bare pussy. The pink lips were inflamed and swollen. I ducked my head beneath the skirt bottom and nuzzled at her sex with my nose. Kneeling between the coffee table and the edge of the big couch allowed her to relax with her feet on the table, knees bent on either side of my head, and lean back against the overstuffed pillows as I prodded her with my tongue. She immediately started squirming.

"I don't know if I can...take...any...more..." she began. The stammered protest spurred me on. I reached over each thigh and pulled her upper legs further apart as I began to lick gently at her overused box. The tuft of blond hair above her tasty slit was sparse, wispy, and clean smelling from the recent shower. "Really, I don't know." Every time she started to protest, I lapped at her clit more insistently (while still being gentle) and teased the little hole below. When she realized that I was not going to treat her roughly, she relaxed and allowed me my fun. I could tell that she was starting to enjoy it too as her flow of lubrication started for me to catch on my tongue. Delicious.

I had no intention of causing her pain but I also had no intention of letting her leave. I held her legs tightly and ever so gently teased the pearl of her sex. I would start at her sweet, sensitive hole and lightly lick up and eventually over, her clit. Each stroke across the nub caused a small shudder. She was building up again and the knowledge that I could do this to her was a powerful thought in my mind. As she began to squirm and clamp down on my head with her thighs, I slowed my gentle ministrations. Pushing her up to the plateau but not allowing her to reach it suited my needs and I contented myself with simply enjoying my time between her thighs. My flattened tongue would press at her pussy hole then slide up, separating the lips as I went, and when I reached her clit, I would point my tongue and barely touch the little nub.

She humped herself against my mouth and chin, trying to keep me on the path to her buildup. I used some restraint, and only allowed my lips to touch hers gently with no vigorous motions against her sensitive parts. I could sense her frustration and pushed her thighs back apart, meeting resistance and hearing her soft, surprised protest. I further startled her by lightly rubbing the insides of her thighs with my hands and lightly stroking the small patch of hair above her sex.

As she started to really work up to going over the edge again, I slowed down, clearly frustrating her. I held my tongue tip against her clit and slowly worked it in a circle around the tip and she moaned softly.

"Olga," I asked, "does that feel good?"

"Ummm, yeah. But please don't stop."

"Wait, I thought you didn't want me to do this..."

"Oh quit screwing around and let me come. Why are you doing this?"

In response, I tapped her clit a few more times with my tongue. I moved down and lightly lapped at her flowing hole. She slid further down towards the edge of the couch, allowing me better access and I slid my tongue up into her as far as I could reach. I flicked my tongue back and forth inside her a few times, pulled it out, and swallowed what I had gathered. I licked up her slit again, this time insistently pushing at her lips as if they would open further of their own accord. Her low moaning started again so I worked at her box for another ten seconds and stopped abruptly.

"Why do you like watching me with your sister?" I asked.

"Oh come on, don't stop, why are you torturing me?" she lamented.

"We've got all day, Hon," I responded. I acted as if I could make a career out of eating that pussy, which come to think of it, wasn't that far from the truth.

I took another long, slow stroke up her slit and back down for good measure and asked, "What does it do for you? Really?"

I pushed the hem of the dress back enough that I could see up along her body to where her bedroom eyes were nearly shut and saw the frustrated look there. Without breaking the eye contact, I leaned down again and poked at her clit with my tongue. Wiggling the tip back and forth across the tip, I arched my eyebrows as if to say, "Keep talking lady, I want to hear it."

She opened her mouth as if to speak and her breath caught in her throat. Without pulling away from her cunt, I said, "Come on Olga', you watched me railing your sister's ass and seemed to be into it. Come to think of it, you don't seem to want me to touch you back there. What gives?" As encouragement, I slipped a finger into her and gently rimmed her pussy hole.

Between gasping breaths as I never stopped working her gently clutching quim, she related a story about how when she and Angela were younger and still living in Germany, she used to play with herself beneath the covers while lying in bed at night. It was during one of these sessions that she heard a noise and listened closely only to realize that her sister in the next bed was stroking herself as well. Angela openly admitted to doing it when Olga asked her about it since she'd known for several months what her older sister was doing under the sheets. Their simultaneous masturbation sessions eventually led to openly talking about it, increased in occurrence until it happened nearly every night, and progressed to both of them doing it with the covers thrown back while the sisters watched each other.

Olga noticed that Angie became rougher and rougher with her own masturbation and couldn't tell if it was because she was getting so used to the feel of her own fingers that increased stimulation was necessary for her to get off or if she was competing with her older sister to see who would go the furthest. In any case, Olga came to be fascinated with her beautiful younger sibling as she reclined in the bed and worked her snatch with both hands. Angie's long, straight blond hair would flare out from her head like a huge golden halo across the pillows and her slender fingers would pinch and pull at her own nipples, elongating them into nearly inch-long points. When Angie would grab and pull at her pussy lips, Olga would stare, fascinated at how far her sister could open herself. The inner parts of Angie's pussy would be glistening with their own lube and then Angie would stab one, then two fingers into her hole while working up to furiously rubbing her clit. For her part, Olga would lie on her side, gently stroking at her own organ and watch Angie's show.

When Angela's orgasm would come, her violent convulsions never failed to set off her sister's own quieter climax. She came to realize that she was turning into a voyeuse and loved to watch her sister set herself off. She came to look forward to it and thought about it nearly all day. On a whim, Olga ducked into a sex shop one day on her way home from work and purchased a small pink vibrator. That night, while watching Angie building to a third orgasm, she turned it on and began to rub it on her own clit. It set off a series of rolling thunderclaps inside her body and she twitched and jerked for what seemed like an hour. When she opened her eyes, Angie was kneeling by her bedside looking at the tool where it lay between her sister's soaked lips.

Angie was only nineteen, but she knew what the instrument was and asked if she could use it. Surprised and slightly embarrassed, Olga offered the sticky shaft to her, thinking she would clean it in the bathroom that opened off of their shared bedroom. As Angela stood to walk the short distance back to her bed, Olga noticed that Angie's inner thighs were shiny and wet with her juices. Before she'd taken two steps, Angie had turned on the vibrator and applied it to her own clit. Olga saw Angie's knees bend a little but she caught herself and continued the short trek to her bed. She dropped onto her back, never taking the vibe from her clit and spread her legs. Within minutes she was humming along, being carried away by one orgasm after another. Olga wondered how long her sister could go on like that before she became exhausted and fell asleep.

After a week of Angela using her sister's vibrator nearly every night, Olga began to wonder if she was going to need to buy another one for herself since Angie showed no sign of returning the one she'd "borrowed". She still watched her sister with the lights on low and every once in a while, Angie would turn to her in her haze and smile weakly at Olga.

She'd start at her clit and set herself off once or twice but then would move it down and force it into herself, stroking it in and out repeatedly. It got so intense one night, that Angela rolled over and while reaching beneath herself, humped her pussy against the pink tool until she'd come several more times. Olga quietly encouraged her and Angela turned her head so she could watch her masturbating sister whispering at her. When she was sure that she had Olga's attention (as if it was possible for Olga to look away), she slid "pinkie" out of her dripping hole and started to press it against her anus. Olga's eyes widened. Angie spread her legs a little wider and stretched one cheek apart with her free hand. Tilting her hips up for a better angle, she twisted and pushed slowly. The angry buzzing was muffled by Angie's tightly clenching ass as the vibrator nearly disappeared up her virgin hole.

Olga was struck with horror, but then realized that Angie was enjoying it.

Her moaning grew louder as she pushed back against the small object in her bottom. Olga became afraid that their parents would hear Angie's noise and shushed her sister. Angie's hand held it there and she became slightly louder. Olga was off the bed and kneeling by her sister's within a second. "Be quiet, sis," she chided. In response, Angie moaned low and long. Olga clapped a hand across her sister's mouth to try to quiet her and grabbed the wrist of the hand that was holding the vibrator in her butt to try to stop the pleasure welling inside her. Angie must have thought that Olga was trying to help and pushed back harder. She grunted behind Olga's palm. Olga realized that Angie was not going to stop until she came from the stimulation of her anus and clamped down harder on her sister's mouth. She decided that she may as well get it over with and let go of Angie's wrist. Angie reacted by twisting and working the vibe harder in her butt as she got up onto her knees to better reach the tool.

Olga had never touched her sister in any sexual way before, hadn't thought about it, but now all bets were off. They'd come this far and she wanted the noises to stop before they got in trouble. Before she had time to talk herself out of it, she reached between Angie's legs and found the soaked lips of her pussy and began to stroke them back and forth quickly. Small droplets of liquid were flipped onto the sheets and when she touched her sister's clit, Angie's orgasm crashed upon her so hard that she collapsed flat on the bed. This trapped Olga's hand beneath Angie and Angie's clutching asshole clamped down hard on the vibrator lodged in it. Angie bit the pillow to keep from making too much noise as she came over and over.

While Olga told this story, I had to restrain myself. The urge to lick her to orgasm was strong, almost as strong as the urge to stand up and stroke myself off to my own orgasm and ruin her pretty sundress by shooting all over her. But while she talked, I worked slowly, quietly, and patiently. I learned just how much she could take before losing her train of thought and ruining the story and when this happened, I simply slowed down or stopped until she regained it.

But soon after the part about her helping her sister get off with her hand in her pussy and the new vibrator in her ass, I decided it was time. She'd earned it. I built up the pressure on her clit while also gently working my finger across her G-spot. The story after that became garbled and unintelligible as her words degenerated into moans and then gasps and then howls. She actually started to wail like someone in pain and I increased the pressure inside her pussy with my index finger. The thighs on either side of my head closed, clamping down on my ears. "Well, I can't hear that screaming anymore," I thought. Trapped between her legs, I could not move my hand properly to keep the buildup going so I slapped my tongue back and forth across her clit like a boxer working a speed bag. The effect was instant. She gushed into my mouth while nearly tearing my head off of my shoulders with her legs. If it wasn't for my fingers up inside her, I don't think I'd have been able to keep her on the couch!

Luckily, neighbors weren't close enough to hear her convulsive screaming. If they had been, I'm sure that the police would have been called and I'd still be explaining to them what had happened. After several seconds of her pounding orgasm, she quieted and pushed me out from between her legs. She pulled her legs up and flopped over on the couch, trying to relax and calm down after the intensity of the sensation. So tired was she after this exertion that she rolled over and faced the back of the couch. Her legs were drawn up in a near fetal position as she lay on her side and her breathing slowed after several minutes. Soft whimpering sounds gave way to quiet breathing which eventually slowed so much that I thought she'd fallen asleep.

I was still kneeling where I'd been during the story and this put me at eye level with her bottom. The dress barely covered her inflamed pussy so I reached up to it and gave it a soft stroke. She protested loudly, "That's enough! I can't take anymore!"

"'Just kidding," I said. I stood and stretched my legs. I went back out to the kitchen and poured her another glass of ice water. After washing my face in the sink, I returned with the water for her. She appeared to be sleeping, or at least resting quietly, so I left her alone, setting the glass down quietly. I gently lifter her head, sat down on the couch, and placed her drowsy head in my lap. For a few hours, I watched TV with the volume on low. Her hips made a nice resting place for my hand which held the remote and after a while, when she appeared cold, I slid a small throw blanket over her bare legs and nearly exposed ass.

Chaingun
Chaingun
56 Followers
12