The Step-sister Pt. 03

It's late Tuesday morning and we're at the kitchen table. It's a bit drizzly today and we're just back from a short walk: wet boots are at the door and we're sitting in our socks drinking coffee.

'You're not what I expected David, this......sex, isn't what I'd expected, what I'd planned.'

She's caught me out here. 'I hope I haven't overstepped the mark?'

She sat for a moment, considering what to say. 'I did wonder if I'd started something I shouldn't have, after my bath; when you came in. And I was a little anxious the next morning, wondering what we would say to each other. But then it all seemed to happen, unrehearsed. I hadn't planned any of that; what I said, trying to catch you out, it just came out. And then yesterday afternoon, wow! So no, there was never a mark to overstep and I'm glad this happened, I needed it. And I don't want to stop.'

She looked at me and I looked at her then at the table, then back at her.

She glances down and her eyebrows lift, 'the table?' she asks.

I grin at her and reply, 'the table.'

Now she grins back. 'Oh good.'

I stand and she giggles as I pull her to her feet.

Pulling at her belt buckle I yank it free, then unfasten the button and zip and push her trousers down off her bum to her feet.

Then I push her backwards, tipping her onto my much used and abused table.

Push her right over onto her back.

Leave her knickers on.

A fleeting recognition crosses my mind; Lorraine's choice of underwear has definitely changed over the past few days: from the plain black or white cotton of last week to what can only be described as lingerie, but it's only a fleeting thought, other things demand my attention.

I push her thighs back against her chest, lift her bum towards me, press the palm of my hand between her thighs and start rubbing across her pussy, up and down, round and round.

Start slowly, not pressing hard, then gently speed up, dragging the white lace with me. Up and down the full length of her pussy, then small circles right on top of her clit.

I duck down and she jumps as I clamp my mouth over her pussy, the lace already wet, her flesh hot.

Press my face to her, the lace gusset rough against my lips, the tip of my tongue pushing the fabric against the sensitive skin.

Teeth against her. Then suck. Suck her juices through her knickers.

I shift my focus; edge up a little, lips circle the bump of her mons, still sucking, tongue still teasing, licking and pressing, teeth nibbling and biting.

Her hands on the back of my head. I speed up then slow down, shift from forceful to gentle then back again. She's thrashing around under me, humping my face, legs kicking out behind me, crying and moaning.

She jerks, her arse lifts, her hands press down, her heels pushing down on my back.

She jerks again. 'Ggrrrrgh.' Groans.

Another jerk, her legs kick as I keep going, concentrating on that one small spot, sucking and teething, trying to bring her to new highs.

Her legs tighten, wrap around the back of my head, her clawing fingers pushing me down, forcing me down even harder.

And I still keep going, feel her trip through flickering orgasm after orgasm until they blend into one and she cries out and starts to push my face away, the overwhelming sensations becoming too much.

And I let her have her way, slowly back off until her convulsions have calmed, then push myself out of her embrace, stand upright.

Drag my own belt apart: my trousers big enough to drop without unfastening anything else. Push my shorts off my hips.

My cock has long been rampant, pulsing with hot blood.

I pull her to the edge of the table, her thighs against my chest.

Hook a finger into the soaking wet crotch of her knickers, drag them to one side.

And, with a heart felt groan, sink into her hot, bubbling pussy.

The heat of her is a cocoon that sucks me in, I close my eyes and spend minutes savouring the feeling: but if I stand here too long I'll cum without moving a muscle.

And, just as I'm about to move, her tunnel tightens around me. I open my eyes.

She's gazing at me, a soft look of sated amusement on her face. She squeezes again. 'Enjoying yourself?' She croaks.

I pull back, as far as I can without actually coming out of her.

Then slide back in: not hard or fast, just a long, purposeful slide until I butt up against her cervix.

Her eyes widen into saucers, a gasp of breath through clenched teeth.

I stop, again buried deep inside her, squeeze my arse and balls; quell the urge to cum, force it back.

The need dissipates, the heat dies and I start to move, reverse direction, a long pull back followed by a long slide in until my hips push against her bum.

And again. And again. No real force behind them, just long, single-minded fucking.

Until my own insides begin to bubble.

I push a hand up beside my cock, reach for her clit, my fingers searching, find the spot.

Rub and tap.

Shaft still being single-minded, burrowing to its root, hips pressing against her bum, tip bumping her cervix.

But I'm starting to lose control now, my insides on the point of boiling over.

I keep moving, still keeping her legs trapped against me, her ankles up around my neck.

Then she groans, grasps at the table edge as her whole body tenses.

As her pussy and arse lock tight, her arms rigid, hands pulling at the table as a little shiver ripples up her legs

I still keep going; I'm far too close to stop, but I relax, don't try and hold this one back, just let it wash over me: from my arse to the back of my neck, the tingling, warm rush of orgasm spreads through me and I pump the waiting load into her body.

And after the leg shaking ends, for both of us, I step back and slowly let her go. My already limp cock slides out of her as she wraps her arms around her thighs and pulls them to her chest, rolls from side to side then sits up with a groan.

She doesn't move, just sits, looking at the floor. 'Do you treat all your furniture this badly?'

I chuckle weakly. 'If only you knew.'

'I'm beginning to get an idea.' She looks up. 'Can we go for another walk after lunch?'

'Yes lets, that'll be good, see if we can find that rutting stag.'

She groaned. 'Oh god, not another one.'

It turns into quite a long walk as it's stopped raining and we mostly enjoy the silence of the woods, but we do, occasionally, talk.

'I hope you don't mind, but I've arranged to go and stay with an old university friend on Friday for the weekend, she lives down in Chichester.'

'Why should I mind, it's your time. It's great that you can get to see her whilst you're down this way. Besides, that's still a couple of days away, the weekend will give me a bit of recovery time.'

She laughed. 'You think you'll need it do you? I was going to tell you yesterday, about Chichester, but I got......distracted.'

'Yes you did, didn't you, sorry about that.'

'Oh don't be sorry,' she chuckled. 'I love a distraction.'

Unfortunately, we don't find the stag, rutting or otherwise.

Tuesday rolls into Wednesday and suddenly it's midweek.

I've had a full day working. They're clients I've had for a good few years now; a lovely, older, older than me anyway, couple who pay well from a lifetime spent in the corporate world doing whatever people do in the corporate world.

So it's been a good day, but a long day.

Lorraine and I had had dinner and then decided to stretch our legs, not that I needed to, but hey, and it was just a short circuit around the house. We're almost back and would, in daylight, have been able to see the house through the trees by now.

But the sun's setting and it's quickly getting dark, so we won't be able to see it until we get to the garden.

I love this time of evening, as the sun goes down. All the animals have a last burst of energy; ground animals rustling around and birds singing. Then suddenly it goes quiet, as though one of them has flicked a switch. Then, minutes later, after some duty scout has checked that the coast is clear, the night animals start to bark and call.

Love it.

And then we're in the garden.

'Fancy a drink?'

We're still outside, standing at the back door.

'Too late for coffee, don't fancy tea.'

'Agreed. Whisky?'

'Sounds good, but I'd prefer a brandy please'

'Ok, brandy for you, whisky for me. Outside?'

'Lovely, but I need a quick trip to the loo.' And she skipped past me into the house and disappeared upstairs.

Now we're sitting back outside, sipping our drinks, listening to the night sounds. It was perfect.

We didn't say much, it was much better to just listen. But then Lorraine says, 'tell me about one of your lovers.'

I looked at her in the fading light. 'Really?'

'Please. Tell me about one of them.'

No harm in it I suppose. 'Hmm, OK.' So I told her about Nicky. I don't know why I chose Nicky, she was just the first one who came to mind, maybe it was a subconscious test, by me, of Lorraine, I don't know. I told her of our first meeting; at the wedding. I didn't go into a huge amount of detail, but I told her most things.

And I could tell by her breathing that it turned her on.

But then it started to get a bit chilly, and I was quite tired: it's an age thing, plus I'd had that long day.

Then Lorraine put her glass down and stood up, so I started to stand, thinking that she was going in.

'Ah, ah.' She admonishes me. 'Don't you dare move.'

I'm halfway out of my chair but Lorraine, now standing in front of me, pushed me back down.

Then she sank to her knees in front of me.

Her hands snake up my thighs, pull at my belt buckle, then my button and zip.

She tugs at the waistband and, with a bit of assistance from me, drags them and my shorts to my ankles.

A quick fumble around my ankles and my clothes are flung into the dark.

A hand on each knee, she gently pushes them apart, leans forward and slowly licks up the length of my already rising cock, then kisses the very tip.

Her warm breath washes over the sensitive skin as her tongue laps across the swelling glans as she teases me to full thickness.

Then the soft, dry feel of her lips touching me and the tip of her tongue worms into the slit, quickly followed by her wet mouth as it sinks down my length and she slowly envelops me.

All the way to the root.

Then back up.

Her fingers wrap around me and she squeezes as her mouth slowly sinks back down.

It becomes a dance. On my shaft; her wet lips sucking me in and blowing me out, then rubbing the head around inside her mouth, gnawing on me before forcing me all the way back and down into her throat, keeping me there as long as she can before snatching me out in a wet, slurping gasp for air.

And now she's got my cock pressed back against my stomach with her fingers circled tight around my sac and my balls squeezed into the end as she sucks and licks at them. At first it's just one of them, then it's both.

It's borderline painful, but not unpleasantly so.

There's another gasp for breath as she pulls back. 'I do like your shaved balls,' she mumbles, before diving back in.

Then she decides that she's had enough of balls, and her mouth swoops back down my aching cock.

She's up and down, fast then slow, teasing then gulping, hard sucking then gentle lapping. Constantly changing the pace, constantly taking me nearer and nearer the edge.

She takes another breath. But her hand doesn't stop, keeps slithering up and down my length, then, once she's given herself a short respite, her mouth comes back in and she presses me straight down her throat before going back to that endless bobbing up and down.

And it seems as though every one of my nerve endings is tingling, I am so close that my arse is beginning to twitch and push up.

And she knows just how close I am, she's always known how close I am, how far to take me.

But this time she doesn't slow down: if anything she speeds up.

I can only just see her: in the fast fading light. But I don't really need to, the feeling is enough.

Her hand is flying up and down my cock, with the occasional pause to lubricate me with her mouth.

Her other hand is caressing my balls and stroking the back of my scrotum, and it's this, as much as her attention to my shaft, that's finally tripping me towards a full-on quake.

And it's just about there.

Another minute.

'Mmmnnnnggghhh.' And that's it.

Lorraine crams me into her mouth with a millisecond to spare, as an involuntary spasm clenches my arse tight and shoots my load into the back of her throat.

She grunts at the force of it, pulls back a little, then I feel her swallowing, glob after glob.

Until I start to run dry. Then, whilst one hand palpitates my cock and just my glans is in her mouth and her other hand massages my balls, she starts sucking; milking me of everything that's left.

Eventually, reluctantly, she sits back and my limp dick falls from her hot mouth into the cool night air.

She pats my flaccid cock, giggles. 'Mmmmm, nightcap.'

I shudder with released tension. 'Fuck Lorraine, think someone's had lessons.'

She giggles again. 'That's a university education for you.'

I shiver again. 'Missed out there then didn't I.' Then, groaning, I slump further down into the chair. 'Think I'll sleep here.'

She gets to her feet, puts on a mock voice. 'Come on my dear, let's get you inside.'

I groan again, stand.

Getting into the hall I stop, think, then reach behind the door and take the torch off its hook.

'Where are you going?' She asks.

'Err, get my phone.'

She looks out into the dark. 'Out there?' The realisation dawns. 'In your trousers.'

I nod.

She grimaced. 'Ahh, oops, sorry.'

My phone has come out of my trouser pocket mid flight and Lorraine has to ring it before we can find it. We laugh, or rather she does; she finds it quite amusing to keep shining her phone's torch at my still naked arse.

I have to reluctantly admit that it is quite funny.