In the Nest with Christie Ch. 05

Tendrils of glistening wet pubic hair lapped against her foot as she humped and squirmed, grinding her heel against her shockingly large and swollen clit.

I went light-headed.

Holy fuck. This couldn't be real.

I looked at Therese because, for fuck's sake, she was sitting right next to her masturbating daughter. But Christie was holding the afghan in a way that blocked the view of what she was doing from her mom's side of the couch. And her moans were quiet enough not to draw attention. Hell, my dad was snoring louder than his stepdaughter was moaning.

I turned to Christie again--and twitched with alarm.

Her eyes were open now. She was staring straight at me. Her expression was chill. Casual. Laissez-faire.

Without breaking eye contact, she raised the hem of her dress to her belly with one hand... then slid two fingers between her soaked heel and her engorged clit.

She moaned softly, her eyes rolling up and closing, her head dropping against the back of the sofa as her fingers moved up and down, up and down, the wet smacking sounds of her fingers and foot against her pussy barely audible beneath the racket of the TV but growing louder as she rocked her hips more needfully and her fingers moved faster, faster, until...

BZZZTT!

... The oven timer buzzed.

Christie's moans cut off abruptly. She went still.

After a moment, she pulled her fingers from her clit and rested her hand in her lap, raising her head and opening her eyes.

She regarded me sluggishly.

"Hens're done," she said.

I opened my mouth, but my head was empty. No words came out.

With a lazy sigh, she lowered the afghan to cover her legs again, glancing at her drowsing mom and my sleeping dad. When she returned her gaze to me, her eyes came to rest on my rigid tent pole.

Only then did I notice the fresh pre-cum seeping through the fabric of my pants.

Pressing her lips together, Christie nodded to herself, making a decision. "I'll turn off the oven and set the table." Suddenly brightening, she pushed the afghan aside and unfolded herself from the sofa. "Can't let you do all the work."

She smoothed her dress, gave me a smile, and, as she walked past me to the kitchen, smacked her bare foot down on mine and smeared it with pussy juice.

It was imperative that I masturbate immediately. I untucked my shirt, pulled it down over my crotch, and made a beeline for the bathroom.