The Need For Weed

She shook her pretty head. "No."

"Yes. Now move back." This time, she did scoot enough that I could kneel on the bed, close between her legs.

"Yes?"

"Oh yes." I leaned over her naked body. "Kiss me."

"I can't."

"Yes you can."

"No. If I kiss you I won't be able to stop."

"You don't have to stop."

"I don't?"

"No."

"Really?" Her smile was bright, eyes twinkling. "Auntie Carrie gave us permission?"

I shrugged, deciding not to think too much about the extra little thrill I felt when Weed called my wife that. "It's my birthday. Now kiss me. I've gotta a good wife, and I get the present I want."

"Dude, this is the best present you will ever get."

Long, thin arms wrapped around my neck and shoulders, pulled me down onto her with surprising strength. Carrie was petite and lean, but Weed was tiny under me. I felt like I might crush her, but her arms still pulled, asking for my weight on her.

My lips found hers. An immediate roaring filled the space behind my eyes. That incredible, sexy mouth, so hungry on mine. Those wide, taunting lips, not as full and plump as Eva's but with an alluring deep drawn-bow curve I had pictured so many times.

Soft, needy sounds escaped as the kiss continued, deep and wet, a playful, needful blend that stayed short of frantic. Hard nipples poked up into my chest; still protruding from my fly, I ground down against her bare, fresh-shaved smoothness. I felt a slickness under my tip, rubbing above her opening. My body, doing its part to aid the lubrication efforts. My hips increased the motion, spreading the harbinger of future seed further lower down.

Her lips were still on mine as she gasped out. "Take these. Pants off."

I savored her mouth for another moment before pushing myself up. Her eyes stayed at my waist while mine roved over her slim, naked splendor. I felt genuine awe.

"Oh yes. God, I want you inside me."

Kneeling over her, aroused and naked now myself, I paused. "Weed, why do you want me?"

A stupid question at the wrong time, which her look of surprise confirmed. I continued in a rush. "You're young, gorgeous, smart, and could have any man, boy - or girl, probably - you want. Are you sure..."

Her hand reached up to cover my mouth. She seemed to have a habit of cutting me off.

"Of course I want you. You're the gold standard men are judged by." Weed said it as though an obvious fact.

I must have looked bewildered. She continued. "You seriously don't know? Mom is so damn sexy, so elegant and everything; I grew up watching men of all ages turn into drooling idiots around her. Pushing their chests out and practically humping their hips like a terrier with his little balls bouncing around. And she stayed so cool, so...nonplussed."

Her brow wrinkled, considering. "Ploosed? Plust?"

"Plust." I smiled. "And I know what you mean about your mother."

"Do you?" She eyed me closely. "Because you were the exception among my adult male role-models growing up. A drooling penis on legs running after Mom was more typical."

She looked down between us and grinned. "Looks like we've got another drooler."

I watched her reach down and catch the shiny string that stretched the scant inches between my wobbling head and her leg. She studied the slick shimmer on her fingers, holding it between our faces, then pushed them into my mouth.

It caught me by surprise. Her smile was wide, and saucy. "You made me taste mine. You taste yours."

I sucked on her fingers, laving my tongue over them longer than necessary. Her lips parted as an unfocused glaze crossed her eyes. She shook her head to clear it.

"I think I compare other men to you because you're one of the few that seem immune to Mom's charms. And the only one who makes her...like that."

"Like what?"

"Makes her like the humpy little hounds sniffing behind her, or squirming on the ground in front of her until they're ready to piddle all over themselves." Weed rolled her big eyes upward in an arc. "Except around you, she's more of the terrier bitch herself, dragging a shiny snail trail behind her, trying to scratch that special itch. She's the one that'd be rolling over to piddle if you rolled up a newspaper. Put her in a training collar and she's probably cum."

"Nah. I've known Eva forever. Seen her in all..."

"Dude." She cut me off. "Believe me. You make her wet and wiggly. And I totally get why."

With that she dragged me back toward her lips. The kiss was slow, familiar and promised the world. Pulling back, she looked at me. "Do you remember the last time we stayed here? When I fell asleep in your lap?"

I did. She'd been a gangly bundle of bones then. Weed tickled at my slit, tasting as it eased open enough to leak a tiny clear drop of fluid for her, before she went on.

"I was just pretending to sleep, most of the time. Mm. I still think about it. Your smell. The stubbly-smooth feel of your cheek. The strength of your arms and chest as you carried me to bed. And then you had to carry me again, all muddy and half-naked, into the shower, and make me do naughty things. Of course I want you. I want you bad. But not without permission. Tell me again."

I grinned down at her. "Full permission has been granted."

Weed squealed. Then she clapped both hands over her mouth, eyes wide above them. She pulled them away and hooked her long legs around mine, nipples proud and prominent on her chest as it heaved up with a shallow, quick breath, almost a shudder. "Enough talk. Gimme that cock. Please. You have no idea how bad I want you inside me."

"You're sure?"

"Now. Please."

"It's my birthday and you said this little bare little coochie would be my present. I'm going to slip down here and make sure it's all prepared the way I like it."

Her legs unlocked from around me after only brief resistance and a sigh. "I think I'm pretty wet already."

I chuckled as I settled in between her thighs, my padded by the rug on the floor. Grabbing her slim hips, I hauled her closer. She squealed again. "This isn't about getting you wet, Weed."

Her brows crossed in confusion. "A little spit makes it easier."

"Poor deprived girl." A leaned in and ran the soft center of my tongue in one long, slow lick up along her opening. Those wonderful lips opened wide, but she didn't make a sound. "This isn't about a little spit."

Another long lick, this time waggling my tongue side to side near the top of the slit, beginning a general massage. "Or making things easy."

I explored the glorious smoothness I had witnessed being created. The occasional tiny hints of missed hairs, shaved but not quite flush with the skin, only exaggerated the frictionless marvel of the rest. I took my time, licking, then sucking. Slurping, then flicking, then sucking again.

Her sounds, her willowy body's increasing writhes, her fingers gripping tight in my hair: I was no more than dimly aware, lost in a deeper, radiance I could almost see glowing from her core. I had seen a hint of it in the shower, but the build up and release both had been too quick.

Like then, two fingers pushed her over, off the edge. This time, the pressure had been allowed to build, to simmer, to wind tight, and the fingers entered her as a complete surprise.

I had to latch an arm around her waist when her hips heaved upward, two fingers rising with her, held tight between clenching, spasming slick walls. Her slender form convulsed under my lips and tongue, around my sunken digits, massaging and stroking against the inner surfaces threatening to force them out.

Muffled by the pressure of her legs squeezing against my ears, a tortured growl escaped her through clenched teeth. I heaved my weight off my knees, hauling her long, light body up with me. Her legs slipped down from my shoulder to my hips.

The growl became a whine of complaint when my fingers eased out, then a moan when that hand guided my head to her, pushed in slowly, but without hesitation. The whine returned. When the first push stopped any sense of loss from the exiting of fingers had been overcompensated. I caught a trace of a wince, almost hidden by a tight smile. I held myself still inside her, neither pulling out nor pushing deeper.

The strain, or most of it, left her features. She blew out a long, focusing breath through pursed lips. "Okay. More please."

I pulled back, watched her eyes widen when I stopped there, the head barely hidden within her lips. I lowered myself until I could reach one hard nipple. Weed was tall enough that I could suck it in, flicking my tongue over the tip in a rapid-fire, sudden assault, and still shove my hips close between her thighs.

I groaned, drowning out any sound she might have made, as I felt reluctant walls give in, surrender deep internal grounds to my invading lance. Defying reason but making complete sense in the moment, I felt Weed relax and tense, resist and give in, simultaneously, under and around me.

My unexpected attention to her nipple, swollen now between my devouring lips, brought on a straining arch that raised her back off the bed, lifting my weight with her. Still, intimate muscles seemed to welcome more of me in even as other groups squeezed tight.

My last plunge of my hips found me buried as deep as deep as I could go. I took advantage of the arch she still held, jamming both arms under and around her skinny frame. Hands worked down her long back to the flexed and shuddering cantaloupe halves of butter-smooth, flawless buttock.

She watched me, for the first time her eyes showing a little of the wildness I had seen in the shower, as I tugged the nipple up way from her chest, stretching the tender flesh. My lips held the erect crinkled-in nub while my tongue tip renewed a rapid flutter behind them. Weed gasped when I released it.

My weight and her response to the release of her up-stretched little breast dropped us back onto the bed. Weed's gasp grew. My hands were pulling her lower body up onto me, grasping perfect little globes of ass. They did nothing to catch me as I fell on the girl.

A long grunting groan escaped as the air was forced out of her and I was forced in, hard, by the same motion. I felt as though my body heard that last groan and understood: my brain's translation services were no longer needed. Hands and hips had this one, thank you very much.

Hands raised her up to hips; hips bore down into her, supported and held by twin cupping hands. She took up almost no room inside my arms, crushed under me. She felt tiny but in no way frail. Long legs wrapped high around me, encouraging me to again and again find room inside her slender little belly for each deep plunge home.

The way her body resisted each return entrance, turning the inevitable surrender into an almost too-tight massage along my entire length when I eased back in, milking me for my own release. Surrounding walls snugged around to deter my retreat with near-equal effort, massaging anew. My hands grasped harder, the pace of my thrusts uneven as my breath sped.

Weed's sounds were words again.

"Yes."

"Like that."

"Grab my ass. Yes. Give it to me."

I moaned. She knew what it meant as I heaved down into her, my face buried in her throat.

"O fuck yes, Daddy! Grab that ass and fuck me til you cum!"

Her hands were in my hair, over my shoulders, frantic and scurrying. My hips continued smaller humps down, moving my throbbing bulb at the depths of my reach within her, spraying stream after hot, single-minded stream.

Lost in my own throes, no air or blood budgeted for extraneous thought, I missed the first signs of Weed's own renewed release. I might have heard it in the strained tone in her last, raunchy command, or the sudden tighter squeeze of the long legs around me. But I didn't.

When fists twisted two handfuls of hair, just above my neck, and a coarse scream sounded in my ear, I recognized the change in the slender-strong body under me. It was my turn to wince as young flesh clenched hard around me, just as I hit that over-sensitized not-quite-hard moment after my climax. I still forced words out, grimacing. "That's it! Cum for me. Cum hard for Daddy."

I crushed her hips up into mine, lifting her to meet me with both hands, grinding us together as she writhed. Her scream lost air until she was murmuring in my ear, lips close. Twisting fists of hair became tender strokes along my brow and temple.

Weed whispered, just a breath, barely audible, "Love you. Always have."

I twitched inside her when she nuzzled close. My lips teased her ear in answer. "And alway will."

Not knowing whether my own words were a promise or a prediction, I still sensed their deeper truth, a bond to this radiant, witty, captivating young wonder. This one time inside her, filling her, would not be enough.

She kissed my cheek. "Tell me what Auntie Car said. How she gave us permission."

I recounted her words as best I could.

"She said she knew you wanted to fuck me? That's hot. Wait. She called me 'that skinny bitch'?"

"Ah, yeah, it I don't think she meant it in a bad...."

"Think a minute: has she ever called anyone else you know 'the skinny bitch'?"

Oh shit. Weed must have felt the sudden tension of realization hitting me. Small hands pushed at my shoulders until she could see my face. She confirmed my fear.

"You wife sent you to fuck my mom."

We looked at each other, neither sure how to react. Finally, I grinned, shrugging. "Oops."

Her laughter was bright, happy, needed. I joined her, both of us continuing perhaps a bit longer than necessary. She spoke first. "There's only one thing to do."

"What?"

"Go fuck her."

"What!?"

"Go fuck the skinny bitch. You want too. I know she wants too. And your wife expects it."

"But..."

"No buts. Talk about best birthday present ever. You get to have a hot mom and daughter both. Carrie expects you to nail Mom, and you know Mom's waiting for it. They probably planned this earlier." Weed looked down between our naked bodies. "Well, not this this. But I'll bet they planned for my mom to finally get some from you."

I was speechless.

"So go tap the bitch. I'm going to see if I can figure out a way for us to get permission for reals this time. 'Cause I want more. A lot more."

She kissed me, hard. I answered, our tongues suddenly all over each other, after being denied for too long. My lower body responded. Weed's hands were on my shoulders, pushing, before she rolled us onto our sides with one hard shove.

"No! God I want it, but no." She looked down to where I had slipped out of her, rested heavy and slick against her thigh. Go now. Please. Before I can't resist. Go fuck the skinny bitch like a good hubby."

Standing, I grabbed my pajama bottoms. Weed looked so delicious, reclined, exposed on the bed. I leaned down, stole a long, slow lick up between her legs. Savoring the smoothness of her new-shaven slit once more.

"Oh my goddd!" Her hips heaved up to deepen my contact. I pulled back. Her eyes were wild. "Go. Go. Go. Now!"

-----

The door opened wide just as I stepped near. Eva leaned out of the dim background glow of the nightlight. "Where have you been?"

She grabbed my arm and tugged me into the guest room, closed the door. I caught a glimpse of long bare legs below a hip-length shirt, breasts shifting freely beneath the thin material. Eva slipped slim arms around my neck.

Even in the low light, her dark eyes shone. I felt her chest against mine as she eased close. My arms circled her, one at her slim waist, the other diagonalling across to her shoulder. Full lips, plumper than her daughter's, opened.

"I've been waiting. What did you do, go make a sandwich?"

Her quick sniff distracted any answer, brought back Weed doing the same thing in the kitchen, and fueled a rising panic of the mother smelling...

"Pussy." It was a hissed whisper. "That's not a sandwich. That's pussy."

Eva leaned in, gave an exaggerated, deep inhale. I felt her body tense in my arms. Her voice rose. "And that's not Carrie's pussy."

Her hands shoved against my shoulders. Panicked, I held her tight. Her face grew tight. "Did you...you fucked my daughter!"

"Shhh!" I clamped a hand over her mouth as she arched away from me, still trapped close by my arm around low around her waist. My effort to keep her mouth covered when she leaned away led to a stumble back in the small room.

"Oof!" Her breath, forced out by the weight of my body landing on her on the bed, sounded muffled though my hand. My lower hand held bare, smooth flesh, a slender, soft hip uncovered as her shirt rode up. My own hips pinned her legs wide around me.

I noticed the change in her eyes just before I felt her lower body move, pushing up against me in an easy undulation.

"Mmmmm." Lips kissed at fingers. Her tongue joined them. "Mmmhmm."

My confidence returned, her new response to being held down like this on the bed added to what I had taken from repeated teases: Eva liked to be dominated. I pulled her hips harder up against mine, growled at her. "You like that?"

She nodded under my hand, eyes studying me.

"You gonna be a good girl?"

Another nod. I removed my hand from her mouth. Even in this light, I could see red imprints from my fingers. She sucked in a deep breath.

"You fucked my daughter, you..."

I cut her off with my lips, my tongue, kissing her hard and deep. She whined into my mouth, struggling for only a fraction of a second. The whine deepened and she clung to me, tongue frantic to explore mine. Her hips sped up, lost their previous easy rhythm. Her fingers scrambled over me, clinging, searching. I felt nails dig into my back when I shoved hard against her, between bare legs opening wider for me.

The soft but obvious pillows of Eva's breasts between us felt odd after Weed, almost keeping us apart. But long, smooth legs wrapping around me, pulling me in, spoke a familiar language. Eva's hips adjusted their angle as I began to swell between us.

A tense shudder past through her body, then another. Her kiss stopped and I paused with her, still pinning her down on the guest room bed. She froze under me,with a third, deepest shudder, body going stiff from her straining face, down through slender, flexing core and along long legs clenched around my hips. Barely, I heard a thin, tight whine escaping her.

"Good girl." I moved my hips, dragging the stiff ridge of my head over the swollen hood centered just above her slit. Concentrating sensation on a most sensitive spot, I watched her struggle to hold back, to hold in. Her eyes rolled back, lashes fluttering over a thin crescent of white. The soft whine hiccuped, in time to the flutter, full, wide lips straining open.

I forced a hand down between our bodies, finding the base of my shaft. I slicked the head faster and more deliberately through her folds, still focusing on the swollen button hidden there.

Not quite kissing, but painfully, achingly intimate, my lips vibrated against hers as I whispered her own words back to her.

"You ready to wear my collar? You ready to be my slave?" Weed's wildness flared in her mother's eyes. The tension under me twisted tighted, to the breaking point. "That's it. Let it go. Now."

"Aaaiii..mmm!" I cut off her sudden scream with my mouth, with a deep kiss. A sudden arch in her back, the powerful lunge of her hips pushing up for more of the tormenting pressure, did not stop her hungry tongue and lips from returning my attentions.

Hand still aiming my hardness against her, I guided the swollen head down, between soaked spasming lips as her climax broke free, carrying her helplessly along. The frantic motion of her hips helped and I felt myself slide into her, pulsing walls constricting around me.

I levered myself up on my arms, looking down at the gasping, gorgeous beauty, her full breasts high and spread wide on her chest as she sucked in air. Her huge, dark exotic eyes glowed, wild and almost crazed. I shoved hard, deep, burying my length all at once.