Nephew No More? Ch. 02

"This what you want to see, Honey?" Claire had said, putting one foot up on the bench and spreading the lips of her shaved pussy. She slipped two fingers into her vagina and walked over to Liz. Removing her slick fingers, she pressed them under Liz's nose. "Have a taste." And Liz opened her mouth to suck them clean.

Claire stepped back and smiled, giving Liz a wink. Liz ran to a bathroom stall to hide her embarrassment and stayed there until she heard the door to the locker room bang shut. Only then did she dare to bring a finger to her clit to bring herself off.

When Liz got to her car, she found a card with Claire's phone number under her windshield wiper.

"Whatever floats your boat," Micky offered. Inwardly she grimaced. That wasn't much in the way of advice.

Liz reached across the island and grabbed Micky's half-finished martini and downed it. She looked down to her crotch. Micky was pretty sure, Liz's fingers were between her legs. "I wanna. I do. I do. I'm just afraid, afraid I won't be good at it. She'll be disappointed or laugh at me. Will you let me eat your pussy? Tell me if I'm doing it right. Help me do it right."

"At the reunion, I watched you make sure AJ could get the maximum view of your cleavage and legs. I had to go in the house, pull up my dress, and get myself off imagining I was the one sitting in AJ's chair."

Micky was glad that Liz's eyes were downcast, so she didn't see how Micky's jaw dropped and her eyes opened wide. What the fuck! she thought. Was Liz holding something over her now? Did she know Micky was fucking her son? No, not just fucking--making love with Jerry.

But if Micky let this happen, would Liz soon be wrapped up in a torrid affair with Claire, too obsessed with seeking her own pleasure to be poking into Micky's business?

No fucking way, no fucking way, Micky kept repeating in her head. But she couldn't move though she wanted to bolt for the door, leave her drunken manipulative bitch of sister to solve her own problems. She couldn't move as she watched Liz push her blouse off her shoulders and reach back to unclasp her bra. She couldn't move as Liz reached down to slip down her thong and step out of it.

Liz came around to her side of the island. Micky stood when Liz lifted her off the stool. She couldn't move when Liz unbuttoned her shorts and pulled them and her panties down. Liz lifted her knee, and Micky knew to step out of the clothes at her ankles.

What made Micky lift her arms when Liz grabbed the hem of her shirt and began to lift it over her head? Why were her nipples hard when Liz unfastened her front closure bra and slipped it off her? Why did she open her mouth to accept Liv's probing tongue?

Why did she let Liz take her hand, and why did she let her staggering sister lead her down the hallway to the bedroom?

Why did her body betray her when she lay on the bed, her legs spread, her sister's tongue plunging into her slippery wet cunt that Micky wished was bone dry?

Liz was too intoxicated to be delicate or skillful. Micky was revolted by her sister's frenetic, frantic, licking and slurping. She was too rough on Micky's clit, but Micky moaned, "Yes, yes, yes," and faked an orgasm because all she wanted was for it to end.

When Liz moved away, Micky could think only of escape, but Liz straddled her and pressed her pussy to Micky's face. "Make me cum," Liz moaned.

Micky wanted to push her sister off, but if bringing her to orgasm would end this, she'd do it. Praying that it would be quick, she used her lips and tongue to pleasure her sister. She tried to ignore the taste of her Liz's flowing juices and the scent of her arousal, but her own body betrayed her. She could feel her own juices coating her inner thighs and spreading down her ass crack.

She focused her attention on Liz's engorged, glistening clit while plunging three fingers into her cunt. "Cum, you bitch, cum," was her mantra. Micky hated that surrounding her sister's clit with her lips and sucking hard, flicking the slick nub with her tongue's tip had her own clit throbbing.

Finally, Liz arched her back and threw back her head. She let out a scream. It seemed like a full minute before the rippling waves of pleasure coursed through her. Liz's juices coated Micky's face and lips. Why when she felt so violated was she felt close to an orgasm that would match her sister's?

Letting out a sigh, Liz flopped to the side and passed out. Micky was free at last.

She ran to the bathroom, washed her face three times, and swirled mouthwash to kill the taste of Liz. She grabbed a washcloth and scrubbed her sticky juices from her pussy, thighs, and ass crack. She hurried to the kitchen, dressed, and scurried to the Land Rover. She burned rubber leaving the driveway.

Micky's thoughts were jumbled as she drove home. Though she wasn't a completely willing participant, she had never said no. It both did and didn't feel like rape. She hated her own submissiveness to her sister. Nowhere else in her life was she submissive. That she had been so aroused filled her shame. That she had been so aroused filled her with fear. Would she be able to resist her sister if there was a next time? Was there a part of her that hungered for a next time?

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When Micky got home, there was a note from Jerry on the kitchen table. Micky was both relieved and sad that he wasn't there. He was flying out to the college for a interviews, but he would be back in three days. He'd taken a week off from work. "Miss you," he closed. "Love, J."

Micky would have loved for him to have been waiting for her--under normal circumstances-- but these were far from normal circumstances. He would, no doubt, have immediately picked up her inner turmoil.

"I arrived looking forward to a nice BLT on white bread toast with the crusts cut off, and I'll got to eat was a deranged woman's pussy." It felt good to say that out loud. It even made her laugh, a bitter ironic laugh. Then she was laughing hysterically and tears were running down her face.

The next morning when Micky checked her phone, there was a text from Liz. She took several minutes to brace herself and get the courage to open it.

"Michelle, yesterday is a total blur. I do remember having a fantastic orgasm. I must have masturbated after you left. Whatever you said made me realize I have to let myself go and let what happens with Claire happen."

Just like always, Liz comes out a winner, Micky thought. Well, at least the whatever happens with Claire would keep Liz occupied and unconcerned about what Micky was up to. One elephant had left the building. Maybe.

Micky poured herself a Scotch, then decided to make it a double. She headed to the hot tub, her place for reflection.

So Liz in her drunken haze didn't remember that they'd fucked. Micky in her college days had certainly had a number of casual fucks with both guys and girls--fucking for just the joy of fucking. But it has always been with people that she liked. And she couldn't say that she especially liked her sister.

Imagining future scenarios was not comforting. Wasn't it likely that Jerry would move on with his life and leave her behind--a pleasant memory for him, but that was all. Her sister would hit it off with Claire. Well, one positive of that was Claire sounded like someone who would dominate Liz. Let Liz discover what it's like to be one being controlled. Hopefully Claire was into inflicting pain. Maybe Micky could send her a riding crop.

Of course, if Liz hooked up with Claire, her sister would lose interest in Micky. As much as what happened yesterday revolted her, Micky had to admit that it had brought a lust, a hunger that she might not be able to suppress. With Jerry gone, wouldn't fucking someone she didn't particularly like be better that having her sex life dwindle to non-existent?

Come to think of it, Liz's hunger for sex did make Micky like her a little more than she ever had. Micky had thought respectable married life among the well-to-do had turned her sister into a frigid prude. Perhaps the sisters shared a gene that made them crave powerful orgasms that curled their toes.

Micky didn't know what that said about herself. She didn't know what she would do if a sober Liz came on to her again. If she'd lost Jerry, she suspected she would be unable to resist. She preferred making love, but she now knew how compelling her sex drive could be.

A thought tickled the back of Micky's brain. She downed the last of her Scotch. Her fingers found their way to her slit and played there as she imagined what it would be like to dominate Liz.

A kind of split personality. Ms. Micky Jeckyll, loving and passionate with Jerry; Mistress Dom-Your-Butt Hyde with Lizzie.

Probably just an alcohol induced fantasy. Probably.

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"The school is really fantastic, and the interviews went great. They offered me the job right after lunch on the first day." Jerry's enthusiasm was obvious when he called before boarding his flight home. "And there was quite a surprise, Mick, one that I know you're going to love. It's going to knock you over when I tell you, so I'm saving it as surprise. I want to be there to grab you when you swoon."

No amount of pleading on Micky's part could get him to reveal the secret. She could tell how much he was enjoying the tease, and she had to admit that she was enjoying it too.

It was a toss up. When he walked through the door, would she rush into him arms and let their passion for each other take control. How she longed for his beautiful cock inside her, be it in bed or on the kitchen table. Or would she not let him touch her until he had spilled all the details of the secret?

Micky supposed it wasn't really a toss up. She could wait a little longer to find out the secret he claimed would make her swoon. Well, she didn't have a Victorian fainting couch, and what she couldn't wait for were his caresses, his cock filling her, his desire for her bringing him to orgasm.

Yes, as a boy he had been AJ, her nephew, but now he was Jerry, her lover.

She sat on the edge of the tub to shave her legs and the stubble of pubic hair that was trying to reassert itself. She made sure her landing strip was nice and neat. She loved how being bare accentuated her labia and how her prominent inner lips peaked out.

The hot water of the shower felt wonderful, and when she applied lotion to her body after drying off, she imagined Jerry's hands caressing her.

When she sat at her vanity brushing her shoulder length auburn hair, she thought about some eye make up, but decided against it. It seemed that he found her desirable just the way that she was.

She did look through her lingerie dresser. She did like wearing things that made her feel sexy. She considered the black thigh high stockings. A garter belt would definitely be too much. Sheer thongs were certainly a turn-on. Perhaps four inch heels. The bustier with half cups that left her nipples exposed?

She ultimately decided to just put the on the old flannel button-down shirt that she'd worn the first time they'd made love--the time when he'd taken her his arms, and she wrapped her legs around him and lowered herself on his cock. He found her to be sexy, desirable, just her unadorned self. Though she found that still a little hard to believe, she relished it.

Micky supposed she could just go naked to the door to meet him, but a few buttons to be undone added the thrill of anticipation. No need though for the hassle of removing more than a simple shirt.

Just the sound of his truck in the driveway and the garage door opening hardened her nipples, and she knew he would find her wetness flowing from her pussy.

Before he was through the door, her arms were around his neck. Her lips found his and she sucked hard on the tongue that he thrust into her mouth. And then both their tongues were darting, lips sucking lips.

She stepped back to drop his shorts and underwear. He kicked off his sandals and pulled his tee shirt over his head. Her hand cupped his balls and her tongue licked up the pre-cum coating the head of his cock.

She stood up and ripped off the flannel shirt, the buttons flying all over the hallway. Her arms were around his neck, his hands on her butt, lifting her until her hand was cupping her right breast and bringing it to his hungry mouth. His frantic sucking, nibbling, and his tongue lashing her nipple had her clit throbbing.

Her legs were wrapped around his back. She reached down and brought the head of cock to her dripping cunt. She pressed down and took him inside her.

Just like their first time, he struggled to move them to the bed. Her powerful orgasm, her panting moans, the arching of her back seemed to drive him wild. He thrust harder and harder into her, his fingers tugging at her nibbles, until he spasmed three, four, five times jetting his cum into her.

Micky loved the feeling of his sweaty body pressing against her as they spooned. His soft cock, wet with her juices and his cum, rested in the crack of her ass. One of this hands was lightly fondling her left breast.

"The plane was hot, and I'm a sweaty mess," he said. "Can I take a shower before I tell you my amazing secret?"

"Um, humm," Micky replied, still coming down from the high of being so beautifully fucked.

When she felt him get off the bed and head to the shower, she rose up and rested her back against the headboard. She spread her legs and looked down at the mix of her juices and his cum dripping from her vagina. She scooped it up with two fingers and sucked them clean. She loved the taste of her love and buried her fingers in her cunt to have more to savor.

Micky was so wrapped up in this beautiful moment that was shocked when a truly nasty scenario popped into her head. Suppose she had dominated Lizzie and had her zip tied to a chair in the closet. Naked, of course, with a butt plug in her ass and a ball gag in her mouth. One hand tied behind her, but the other tied to her thigh so that she could almost, but not quite, finger her clit. She'd be able to peek through the slats in the door to see the action on the bed.

Micky imagined removing the ball gag and making her slave clean her pussy, lapping up her son's cum from sister's cunt.

Micky cast that thought aside. It was so perverted, but she supposed it was a reaction to how she had felt her sister violated her.

She stretched on her stomach on the bed, her head cradled in her folded arms on a pillow. Her thighs were pressed together. She imagined Jerry's eyes resting on her shapely ass.

And when he returned from the shower, Jerry did exactly what she hoped he would. He straddled her, his semi-erect cock resting in the crack of her ass. His gentle fingers began to massage her neck and shoulders.

"Do you have a passport?" he asked.

Micky nodded to let him know that in fact she did.

"I know you were a French major in college and that you taught for a while. Still fluent?"

Micky had worked at not letting her proficiency slip, so she nodded again. Where was this going?

Jerry pressed his palms against the small of her back and worked them up to her shoulders. He spread his fingers and slowly dragged them down her back. His hands glided along her sides, lingering for a moment when he encountered the swell of her breasts.

"Well, it seems the professor that I'll be replacing was teaching a course as a visiting lecturer this year at the American University in Paris. A nice apartment was set up off campus for him and his wife. I'm sure you know Europeans aren't as bothered as Americans are by couples with, shall we say, an age difference."

Micky nodded again.

"I pretty sure a few months in Paris would be something you'd enjoy." His voice seemed a little hesitant. Unsure of her response.

Her head shakes told him how enthusiastic she was.

Jerry slid back and massaged her buttocks. He spread her cheeks and planted kisses and nibbles up and down her crack. Micky moaned when the flat of his tongue slowly slide from bottom to top, grazing her anal bud. Then the tip of his tongue was circling it.

Micky spread her legs slightly so that he could smell the scent of her arousal and perhaps see how wet she was. He pressed his tongue as far as he could to reach her swollen lips, but only managed to reach a few drops of her wetness.

What had been a tease for him was perhaps even more of a tease for Micky herself. She rolled over, spreading her legs to give him full access to her pussy.

Paris. She had spent a couple of weeks there many years ago. She loved it, but that wasn't enough time to really get to know it. As long as hefty alimony checks kept flowing into her account, an extended stay would be a breeze.

She was into two places at once. In an outdoor Parisian cafe, Jerry's hand under the table reaching up her skirt. In her bedroom, his tongue so insistent flicking her clit, two fingers of one hand probing her sobbing wet vagina, one then two fingers of his other hand sliding past her sphincter muscles.

Micky thrust her hips up and arched her back as her orgasm ripped through her.

"Oh, fuck! Mon dieu! Oh, putain, Oh, fuck!" she screamed as she pushed his head away for her clitoris could take no more.

As Jerry moved up to kiss her, Micky concentrated on the wonderful sensations from his fingers sliding in and out of her butt. When he spread his fingers to stretch her, she tried to flex her muscles to grip him.

She reached out for the drawer of the bedside table and grabbed the lube. When she recovered a bit from the orgasm, she knew that she wanted his cock to fill her ass.

When they went out for ice cream later, Micky wished they could find the French custard style, but she knew that they'd have to settle for French Vanilla.

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Epilogue

Micky closed her eyes as the plane from Charles DeGaulle Airport began it's descent to JFK. She had spent four truly glorious months with Jerry in Paris. They certainly had imbibed the spirit of La Ville de L'Amour; their passion for each other had soared beyond what she ever could have imagined was possible.

Micky so loved the life and spirit of Paris that she was heading home to put her house up for sale. The university was trying to convince Jerry to stay on. He hadn't made a decision, but Micky knew that she couldn't leave the city she had come to love.

Quite likely, her friend Teri would want to buy the house. She been the caretaker while Micky was gone, and she absolutely couldn't get enough of the hot tub.

Micky, of course, sorely missed Jerry and all the hours of lovemaking she'd be missing as she tied up her affairs in the States. However, she wasn't about to spend however many weeks it took living like a nun in a cloister.

She had found she was adept at compartmentalizing. Her treasured lovemaking with Jerry filled her with rapture. It was at the center of who she was. But there was still room at the edges for her to indulge in the simple joy of just fucking with Beth.

Her nephew AJ had morphed into Jerry, her lover. Her sister Elizabeth, Lizzie when they were children, Liz as an adult was now Beth. Of course, Elizabeth had never wanted to be called Beth, but she had become so addicted to the orgasms Micky could bring her to that whatever Micky said was gospel.

Micky's domination of Beth was very subtle. It had really started after Jerry had left for Paris. He wanted a month to get settled into the university before Micky joined him.

Beth arrived at Micky's house near midnight after a traumatic hook-up with Claire, a woman from her Water Aerobics class. Beth's clothes were disheveled and her hair smelled like urine. Water Aerobics was clearly not Claire's only watersport. Beth couldn't sit because her buttocks were red and swollen, and some lashes had drawn blood.

Micky had helped Beth wash her hair in the sink and gave her a sponge bath before gently applying ointment to her abused bottom. Soft kisses became passionate. Breasts were fondled. Nipples were sucked and tongued. Micky's fingers brought Beth to an orgasm that gave her a few moments of respite from her pain.