My Kid Sister

“I’m not scrawny and my … my breasts are bigger than you think.” I snap and then instantly feel myself colour. I was falling under his spell and he dam well knew it.

“I like fire in my women.” He laughs, his voice is low, husky and filled with desire, which is really to polite a word to describe the sound.

“I am not your woman.” I retort, the colours still in my face.

“I know, I know, you’re a happily married woman with a loving husband and young family.” He says, it could have come out all sarcastic and nasty, but it doesn’t. Cliff makes it sound so natural and reasonable that I have to concur. So I nod my head in agreement. “It still doesn’t alter the fact that you want me, does it?”

It’s that bullshit approach again but it’s followed by another kiss. I’m not even trying to avoid him now and when he strokes my boobs again I can’t disguise how I feel. My skirt and top are made of soft cotton and they cling to the contours of my body, my brassier is nothing more than a couple of soft cups held together with fabric, its there for comfort and not to lift and shape, so through all this soft and thin material my nipples rise and are obvious.

“Ohhhh!” I can’t help myself, especially when he just presses his palm against my boobs. He doesn’t stop his assault; the kisses deepen as does the pressure on my boobs. Finally I hook my arms up around his neck. It’s my signal that the victory is his.

“This way.” Cliff leads me into the lounge, there overlooking the pool and protected from the elements by the sliding French windows is a huge off white leather couch. It’s Brian’s pride and joy, he just loves evenings there after the boys are in bed, just the two of us and a bottle of wine, sometimes we fuck and sometimes we just cuddle, now Cliff leads me there.

He lays me down, resting my head on the couch arm. I expect him to join me, hell, I want him to join me, instead he drops to his knee’s and I realise that’s he’s kneeling between my half open legs. I know what he’s planning and my legs just open; it’s not an intentional act, pure instinct.

He lifts my skirt, leaving it bunched about my waist. I can smell myself, the hot almost fishy smell I give off when I’m excited. Brian says that my scent is the strongest he’s ever known (not that the notches on his bedpost are that many) but I know what he means, on occasions I can pong!

I’m not going to apologise (excuse the smell, its just that I’m horny and hot), if Cliff wants me then he’s going to have to endure.

He looks up and I smile and then I open my legs just a little bit wider, kinda a sign of encouragement, not that Cliff needs any real encouragement. I try to remember which panties I’m wearing. I know they won’t be one of my sexier pairs, these will be workaday specials, but then Cliff is only interested in what’s behind them.

Cliff’s head drops and I stiffen in expectation. I resist, just, the temptation to say something smartarse and then shudder as I feel his hot breath against my thighs and then the wet tip of his tongue brushes against my flesh. I jump; literally my arse is momentarily off the couch.

The tongue continues its journey, my legs widen seemingly without my involvement and then he’s there, face to face with my crotch and I can feel, or at least believe I can feel his hot breath through my panties. I’m wet, not gushing wet, but stimulated enough to feel how loose I’ve become.

He could fuck me now, I’m ready enough, but Cliff is intent on taking his time. He’s lingering around my gusset, his tongue pressing against the damp fabric, his lips bear down and I can feel him and I get a little wetter. I want his tongue against my clit, I want his lips against me, and I want to feel his rough tongue inside me.

He pulls my pants down, I lift my butt to help him and then lay as crudely as you could imagine, open to him, and my sex must be glistening and I hope inviting. I haven’t felt this dirty, I know I haven’t, I feel crude as in suggest something and we’ll try it. Crude, he has had that affect on me.

I stop thinking as he begins, his tongue first just touching me, then his lips almost sucking on me before finding my clit and sucking on it. I bounce, my head rebounds off the arm of the couch and I thrust my cunt (it’s a dirty word which sums up my feelings), into his face. He starts to eat me, like he’s never had a meal in months. I can feel his tongue deep inside me and then rolling around my clit.

It’s too much, normally I take time reaching an orgasm but I’m heading there in a matter of a couple of minutes, my head back and that meowing sound I make shattering the afternoon.

I literally hump his face as I climax, rubbing against him, almost trying to push his face inside me.

Cliff has his hands on my hips and I know that he’s holding his face against me and that it’s deliberate as he drinks down my orgasmal fluids.

He leaves me.

I just lie there whilst my scattered senses regroup. Slowly as sensibilities return I find my knickers and pull then back on, then on unsteady legs I make my way back into the kitchen. I can’t explain why I chose that room but by chance I discover Cliff about to pick up a tray of drinks.

“Oh! I just made you a drink, just orange juice and lemonade. I’m thirsty if you’re not.”

He steers me back towards the couch and silently I sit down again, accepting the tumbler into my still shaking hand. I find that I can’t look him in the face and stare down at the floor. I have been unfaithful, even if Cliff hasn’t actually fucked me; he’s seen me, touched me and brought me to a climax. I start to wonder how I’ll ever be able to look Brian in the face again, much less sleep with him.

“Why so glum?” He asks.

I tell him, it’s a disjointed collection of half sentences, garbled and at times probably incomprehensible. I don’t cry, although it would be the easy thing to do. I finish with a crass remark about him being my sister’s partner.

“She knows the rules.” Cliff answers in a calm voice, like he’s been here before. “Becki told you that I don’t take a refusal as absolute and before you protest, tell me that wasn’t a real orgasm.”

Now that hit home. All I could manage was a weak smile. “So what now?” I finally asked. “Am I another notch on your bed head?”

He chuckled. “If I had a count then right now you wouldn’t figure, what we just did wasn’t the real thing.”

I shuddered. “What do you mean?”

He shrugged. “As I see it Brian? Brian won’t be home tonight and you have a great big bed, much to big for one, so I figure.”

“No!” I squeaked.

“So I figured we could spend some time getting really well acquainted and then if you wanted Becki to join us, well I’m open to a threesome.”