Otimo

Nic slides the sleeves of Antonia's gown down over her shoulders, so that the fabric drops to pool low on her hips. He caresses her back, slides his fingers up and down the channel of her spine, high to the back of her neck, low to her sacrum. He doesn't take her hair down as he'd like to because it would obscure Rusk's view. He kisses her neck softly, both sides.

In less than a minute, Antonia's struggling to breathe. She reaches back to catch his hands and draw them to her breasts. He seems to know exactly how to touch her, cupping them firmly, thumbs rubbing slowly at her nipples. She tries to forget that Rusk is watching, but he makes an inadvertent sound. Instead of putting her off this time, it gets to her. She nips lightly at Nic's throat, feeling a low growl rise against her lips in response. His hardness is pressing her belly. She slides down his body and takes him in her mouth, as much of him as she can, surprising a groan from him. His hands come to rest gently in her hair. She takes her time, as he did with her, bringing him close to the edge, slowing him again, twice, three times. She's good at it probably because she likes doing it.

He stops her, gasping, pulls her to her feet. "I have to get back inside you. I want you on top." He moves to the small table and grabs a packet.

Not looking directly at Rusk, she can discern that his jeans are open and he's working himself. Steeling herself, she pushes the dress the rest of the way off and climbs onto the bed, oddly gratified at the short, strangled sound from the direction of the chair. Nic's more than ready for her. She straddles him and slowly lowers herself onto him, gripping him with inner muscles. It's so satisfying, feeling every bit of him going in.

"Oh my God," Nic breathes. "Just like that."

She braces her hands on either side of his head and leans forward to get her angle right, not only for him but for herself.

Watching Antonia's gorgeous ass, swaying as she fucks his dad, and seeing him thrust up into her with enough girth that it seems like she shouldn't be able to take it, Rusk wants to lose it now, he almost does. But he's stubborn. He's going to get his own cock into this woman tonight, do or die.

Nic isn't rushing, he's savoring. Antonia's working him hard, the breasts that turned out to be better than his daydreams are brushing his chest, her lovely face is flushed. It feels like most of him has been pulled inside her into that clutching, sliding, unimaginable heat.

Intermittently, she kisses him, and it almost brings him each time. Finally, he knows he can't last. He looks in her eyes, scant inches above him, and lets her know without words. She speeds a little, bears down, and his world explodes.

Underneath her, Nic's still quaking. He seems far away. She knows that feeling, being flung out and having to return slowly. She retrieves a packet, sits up carefully, Nic still inside, and tosses it behind her to smack on Rusk's chest. "Your turn," she says.

Rusk clutches at the packet when it hits him. It was all he could do not to come with Nic. He thought about doing it for a split second, like he does with his favorite porn. But now, as she says, it's his turn. He readies himself, kicks off his jeans. She hasn't moved off Nic who apparently hasn't gone soft quite yet. It gives him a devlish idea. He kneels behind Antonia, between her legs and Nic's. "I'm going to touch you now," he warns her. She nods. From the side of her face that he can see, she's apprehensive but isn't protesting. He plants one hand on her hip, takes himself in hand, and starts to push into her already full cunt, listening for any sounds of discomfort. Silently, he apologizes to Nic in case this isn't on his bucket list. It's an extra tight fit. "Oh, fuck," he says aloud, "that's amazing. You okay?"

"Yeah, I don't know for how long," Antonia replies, her voice strained.

He suddenly loves that she's game. Not at all as he had expected. "Just try to relax back against me. It'll help." She does, resting her head against his shoulder.

Rusk read the cues as she'd hoped. Nic is going with the flow, sated but intrigued enough to hang in there, eyes closed, hands on her thighs. She had thought that this was one of those fantasy near-impossibilities to be executed only by professionals (don ' t try this at ho m e) with edited camera shots. It's almost always shown vaginal/anal, which she absolutely does not w ant. She's on the glittering edge of pain but being well warmed up helps, and she's buzzing throughout her body from the extreme fullness. Her reactive dislike of Rusk dissolves with his attentiveness.

The two condoms increase the friction, meaning that there won't be any extreme movement. But Rusk is so close, honestly, it won't take much. Besides, he's intent on one more achievement. His hands slide forward to caress Antonia toward another orgasm. Blood flow is already restricted, which he understands might help. She sucks in a hard breath, surprised. He experiments with a few different movements until she tenses in a way that signals m o r e. There's plenty of wet to work with, he speeds up. She's stifling her sounds, probably self-conscious, but when he senses that she's closer, he frees one hand to grasp a breast and roll the nipple between thumb and fingers. Suddenly, she comes, exclaiming, "Ótimo!" and he cries out himself from the intense squeezing, shooting hard.

As Antonia falls forward, unable to hold herself up any longer, he keeps enough of his faculties to catch her one-armed. Nic is finally softening, sliding out, making way, while

Rusk is ready to go again with the full power of youth. He pulls her backward off the bed until their feet touch the ground. She's flung out face down in the sheets, catching her breath. He presses back in as hard as he can and she yelps, a little surprised. He pauses.

"No, go on!" she urges. "It still feels amazing."

He fucks her almost savagely, the many months of conflicted feelings working themselves out in the best possibly way. He doesn't bother with quiet. He confesses aloud that he's beaten off in the shower many times thinking about doing exactly this. When he comes this time, he goes somewhere else entirely.

A few minutes later, Antonia extracts herself from the guys' limbs. She retrieves a clean robe from Nic's bathroom shelf, wrapping herself up snug and rinses her face. Stepping back into the bedroom, she sees that Nic is by the closet pulling on fresh boxers. Rusk seems to have fully passed out, face down. Nic tosses a sheet over his son's backside and gives her a shy smile. "Thank you," he whispers.

"One-time deal," she replies quietly, meaning it. "Hopefully you and I aren't?"

"Oh, I think we have a lot more to do, don't you?" She grins. "Midnight snack? I'm fixing."

He has cooked for her before but never nearly in the buff. "That's an offer I certainly can't resist."

They leave the bedroom together, closing the door softly. They cannot see that although he's deep asleep, Rusk is smiling.

*