Natalie Fills In

"I'd have thought you'd be looser, all the dick you take," I grunted.

"You're such an asshole," she replied evenly.

"Hm," I agreed, still pushing slowly; I could feel my balls drag across her thigh. Her foot was right beside my face, and I saw the toes flexing spasmodically. "Almost in," I added, figuring she might want to commemorate the moment.

"I'm watching too, shithead." My longest pubes, kinked and stringy, were just about to reach her labia. "Just shut up and finish."

"You know it," I shrugged, and then I leaned down and I was all the way in her, balls-deep. She felt as good as any other chick, like a decent pussy always felt, like it was where my cock was made to be; her body pulsed hot and wet and wild around my invading penis, getting used to my girth, her eyes fascinated by what they were seeing. "Micro-dick, huh?"

She was bright read from her cheeks, all down her neck to where her skin disappeared into her shirt. "Well. I might have been exaggerating."

"Maybe." We both watched, amazed, as I flexed back out of her, the slick skin of her inner lips gripping my shaft tightly, slipping easily across every ridge and vein. By the time I got almost all the way out, I could tell she wanted me back in, the perverse little whore. My whole penis was glimmering with her fluids. "Thanks for giving me something to do," I added, my voice all phlegmy.

"Don't mention it." She was already starting to rock her hips, getting ready to fuck. "No man should need to make himself cum on Valentine's Day, even a fuckhead like you." And then she gasped loudly, moaning despite herself, as I drove hard back into her. Her dark eyes flapped open. "Jesus."

"You really are tight," I managed. I meant it as a compliment; she felt amazing. I clung to her leg like a firefighter clinging to a pole, using it for leverage, already starting to jab in and out with some urgency. Her muscles rippled beneath her flesh. Damn, I was going to bang the shit out of her. "Hang on, bitch. It's going to get nasty."

"Promises, promises." She rolled her eyes, but her breath caught in her throat and she was bracing herself hard against the cushions. I took a firmer hold of her leg, leaned my other hand down onto her abs, and swiveled my hips quickly out of her. "Yeah..." Her eyes, hooded again, watched coolly as her body started to buck against mine, and I started to slide back and forth on her bottom leg like it was a wild horse I was trying to break.

We were maybe five strokes in when she stuck a playful finger against my straining abs, watching with lazy confidence as my muscles rippled. "Don't hurt yourself, Bart," she said playfully. "I wouldn't want to damage you for your little girlfriend." She licked her lips and glared hotly up at me. "Even though you're fucking a better cunt now, huh?"

She was right, of course; Natalie Cross is a sex fiend, and Jessica Pham isn't. I was drilling her deep now, our bodies blurred in frenzied motion, and the sweat was starting to fly. Her vagina felt perfect, like a hot towel wrapped tight around my shaft. She arched up toward me, taking everything I could give her, and the whole time I stared at nothing except my hard cock disappearing between my sister's smooth, even pussy lips. The sight got me off like nothing ever had. "Motherfucker," I spluttered. Wildly I wondered why she and I hadn't done this before. I fucked her hard.

"Admit it, bastard," she hissed, the saliva bubbling on her lips. "Admit my pussy's better."

"Fuck off." I was busy.

"Admit it." She was moving with a purpose now, her lean body straining, pushing against mine. "Admit I'm the best you've ever had."

Well, I mean, who can say? There've been a lot of chicks, I reflected dully as I kept on banging her, with a lot of excellent pussies, but there was no denying how hot this was. She was stirring now, her legs tensing and shifting: she wanted to move, and dimly I began wondering how I could keep my dick inside her while changing positions. My mouth watered at the thought of bending her over, maybe even doing her up the ass. My boy Brett had tried to give her anal once, and had told me she wasn't into it at all, but I always figure a girl who says she doesn't like it in the shitter simply hasn't met the right guy yet.

Natalie, obviously, had other ideas. "Sit on the couch, Bart." Her voice was urgent. "I'm going to ride that cock."

Well, if she insisted. Panting, I gave two more deep, powerful thrusts, jarring her whole body each time, Natalie taking them with her teeth clenched. Her leg, the one up against my chest, was already flexing; she'd have booted me clear out of her if I'd waited too long. The wet sucking sound as I pulled my penis out was sheer nastiness, and I let out a hard sigh as I collapsed onto the middle of the couch. "Get that shit over here," I whined frantically, my wet cock waving cold above my hairy belly.

She unfolded her limbs across my lap, my dick slapping against her belly as she settled close to me. Her nipples were trying to poke holes in her shirt, and for a moment I wondered whether she was going to take it off. But no; she was in a hurry. Her arms went around my neck, and we sat there a moment with our greasy genitals touching. Her stare was its old, cynically shrouded self. Her mouth twisted with her words. "I'd suck your dick," she murmured, "but I don't usually like how I taste." She mounted me roughly, with the efficiency of an experienced slut, rising on her knees and reaching behind her ass to lift my dick. She didn't even need to look down or fumble around; her fingers knew precisely where to go, grasping me hard. "Slippery," she commented, as if she were remarking about the weather, and then she was sinking down onto me, impaling herself in one steady drop.

I took her weight easily. She's not a big girl, but even if she weighed twice what she did I'd have been able to cope, her sinewy thighs settling outside mine. She humped me twice, quickly, getting everything moist again, and then she was leaning in with a queer gleam in her eye and her head tilting sideways. With horror, I realized she was going to kiss me. So I shrank back, her hips beginning to rise again, and got a hand in front of her mouth. "Fuck no," I grunted; you don't kiss your sister, after all. She seemed perplexed, but she just opened wide and sucked a finger between her nimble lips. "Nasty."

"Mm-hmm." She sucked on me, apparently just wanting something for her tongue to do, while she rose and fell on my cock. I was driving upward with firm, economical strokes, and I think I caught surprised admiration in her cynical eyes; yeah, Natalie, you're not the only Cross sibling that knows how to fuck.

We got into a rhythm immediately, our bodies crashing into each other, staring intently into each others' faces. She spat my finger out and then we were sucking in the same overheated air, both of us breathing fast and raspy, our hips a churning blur of slithery fluids and slapping flesh. Vaguely I began to wonder whether Mom and Dad would wake up, or how we'd possibly explain things if they came downstairs. I though about bringing it up, urging her to slow down, but on second thought I could tell we weren't going to last long.

Not me, anyway; her thrashing pussy was just too tight. She was fast, too, bobbing like a crazy metronome, still with that weird light in her eyes. I wondered dully whether she'd get there before I did. She was reading my mind about that, because around then she moved her hand languidly down between our sweaty bodies, dragged her thin shirt out of the way, and pushed her own fingers down to where my dick was thrusting into her, a scowl on her face as she started to stroke at her clit.

I was lost now, beyond any kind of thought other than the urge to explode in there; my balls felt like overripe plums against the pummeling from her body. She was banging me at extreme velocity now, the two of us unable to focus on anything but the slimy red flesh meeting in our laps. I reached blindly around her skinny, churning ass, my fingers questing wickedly for her asshole; I had my middle finger in past the second knuckle before she even registered what I was doing, and her beady eyes flew open in lustful rage.

"I don't take it there, you moron," the gasped, her words taking on a chanting rhythm as my surging cock forced the breath from her lungs, but it was a token protest; she wasn't going to insist I stop if it meant she'd lose my cock out of her filthy hole, so we just kept on fucking, the sweat lashing off us; my foggy mind was vaguely aware of the stench in the room, the wild rhythmless thrashing of me and the black stud on the TV as both of us pushed into our women with crazy need, Natalie's slack mouth hanging open as her fingers brought her to the edge, the shadows in the room suddenly shifting weirdly as a pair of lights shone through the window behind our couch.

Natalie's eyes went wide and white. "Shit," she bit out. "It's Nicole pulling into the fucking driveway." She abandoned her clit and shoved her hands against my shoulders, pushing away, her body twisting toward where her tights lay crumpled on the next cushion. Then she stared at me, enraged and confused, when I planted my big hands on her skinny thighs and forced her hard onto my lap, spearing her deep. "What the fuck, Bart?" she hissed. "Fucking Nicole's about to come in! We need to stop!"

I snarled up at her, my saliva spattering her face. "Fucking childish cockteasing bitch," I mocked. "You stay right where you fucking are." And then I heard and said nothing more. I just leaned up toward her retreating, squirming body, my fingers on her legs harsh like steel, and I gritted my teeth as I kept right on pushing... I was so close... Her mouth lost its twisting, angry sneer, went back to a slack dumb O shape, the big eyes rolling, her body not wanting to stop any more than mine did, and we both gasped sharp groans into each others' faces as I fired what felt like a year's supply of cum up into her vag, the pulses sharp and distinct, my cock feeling like it was trying to burst out of her body like the alien in that Sigourney Weaver movie.

I went totally numb, tingling all over, as my orgasm destroyed me. My ass rose three inches clear of the couch cushion when I tried to shove myself further into her, and she was flushed scarlet as she felt my dick surge. "Christ, you're a hot bitch!" I groaned, my semen finally on its last couple of spurts, but she was ignoring me, glaring out the window at where Nicole had just turned off her headlights.

Natalie dived off my legs, my cock suddenly wobbling as it tried to decide whether it was finished, the whole shaft shining like someone had just shellacked it. She grabbed her tights on the fly as she landed hard on her lower back against the armrest, scrambling to shove her feet into the uncooperative pants, a steady trickle of semen already trailing out of her slit and onto the couch. "Shit!" A car door slammed outside. "What the fuck do I do?" I was naked as a jaybird, my clothes who knew where, gazing stupidly around like a guy with a concussion. Like it sometimes does, there was still cum dribbling out of my dickhead.

"Pray?" Natalie was not in the mood to help me, her ramming feet ripping holes in the tights as she hauled them up her sweaty legs. "The quilt, shithead!"

Of course. Mom was a quilter, and one of her better efforts was draped over the back of the couch right behind my shoulder. She'd spent a lot of money on it; I think the back was actual cashmere, which I hoped was useful for soaking up sperm. I'd barely gotten the gaudy thing over my dick, looking wildly around for my shirt, when the front door opened.

When I sent a wild glance to the other end of the couch, Natalie looked as calm as ever; other than her heaving lungs and her crimson face, she almost looked presentable. I flopped back against the back of the couch, naked under the inadequate quilt, and rolled my head sideways as my baby sister came into view.

Nicole Cross. She was the black sheep of the family, meaning she was not a sexual deviant with flexible morals. Instead, she was a capable and upright young lady with a bright future. Nat and I often talked about her, wondering where she'd gone wrong. Now she stopped short, staring at the TV, then at Natalie, then at me.

"Where's your shirt?" she barked. "And why does it smell like a fucking locker room in here? And why are you two sitting around... watching a porno?" It was tough to tell whether she was angry, confused, amused, disgusted, or all of the above.

"Weren't expecting you home, Nic," Natalie replied evenly. "Happy Valentine's Day." I risked another glance, and Natalie looked hard into my eyes, and then there was a sick pair of smirks appearing on both our faces.

* * *

Hope you enjoyed this nasty little tale. Make sure you read all the Valentine's Day Contest entries and vote for your favorites!

At some point, she calls his girlfriend a "fucking childish cockteasing bitch." They're almost there, with Nat riding in his lap and his fingers in her ass, as Nicole's headlights pull in. She tries to jump off, but he holds her thighs down and calls her a fucking cocktease; she narrows her eyes, they go into a frenzy, and she just barely gets his cum and pulls her clothes back on as Nicole comes in, wrinkling her nose as they look innocently at her. She's skeeved out that they're watching porn together.