The Things You Make Me Feel Ch. 02

Ellie and Michela were still in the pool working on the latter's buoyancy skills when Oliver approached. "Ellie, I'm going in for a few minutes."

"I think Michela might be starting to develop something," she said worriedly. "She looks pale."

"What?" He stooped by the edge of the pool. "Vita mia, are you feeling okay?"

"Si, Papino. Perché?" (Yes, Daddy. Why?).

"Come here; let me look at you." Oliver inspected his daughter but couldn't see anything out of order. "Sei sicuro che ti senti bene?" (Are you sure you're feeling well?).

"Si! Papino, per favore, fatemi stare in piscina un po' di più," (Yes! Daddy, please let me stay in the pool a bit more).

He examined her for the second time and nodded. "She's okay; she doesn't look pale. I won't be long."

"Oliver, I need to go to the bathroom."

He halted and spun around. "Like now?"

"Yes, and it's urgent. Too many coolers. I can't hold it in any longer."

He sighed. "You have got to be kidding me."

"Sadly, no. I'll make it quick though."

"Yeah, go," he said in exasperation and jumped in to hold Michela.

"Back in a sec."

Oliver's chat with Rita had been the source of Ellie's eccentric behavior. She'd been carefully observing them from the second Rita joined him in the Jacuzzi, and she had no intention to make haste back to him.

Twenty minutes later, after adjusting her makeup and playing a mind-numbing game on her phone among other things, Ellie returned to the busy pool. She looked for her niece and brother but only spotted the former. Michela was dancing on the ping pong table, surrounded by a dozen of their guests, who were applauding and whistling enthusiastically.

She hurried to Dave, who was one of the avid spectators. "What's going on?! What is she doing on the table?! And where's Oliver?!"

"Chill, Sis." Dave smiled, unfazed by her militancy. "My niece is just opening up and showing her loosen-up side." He looked back at Michela, his face tearful from delight. "Zio Dave is so proud of you, honey."

Michela laughed and continued her dance to the frantic crowd.

"You're unbelievable," Ellie hissed. "Oliver?"

"He went inside with Rita. You know, the Latina bombshell."

"Oh, did he?! And he left her with you of all people?! Typical guy. One track mind."

"If you were a guy, you would've left your own kidney in a fire just for a shot to tap that ass. And what's wrong with me?"

"Too many things for me to even start, Dave. Too many things."

"Oh, my aching heart..." He held his heart and laughed a second later.

She darted back into the house with a furious head shake.

"Hey, babe," Jason said from the kitchen, munching on a slice of pizza. "Come here, eat something."

She brisk-walked to the stairs. "Jason, not now."

"Ellie, wait." He joined her by the staircase. "What's the matter? What happened?"

"Nothing. I just... lost an earring, and I need to find it ASAP."

"Well, let me help. Where were you when—"

"Babe, thank you, but I'll find it on my own. You go eat."

She soared up the stairs like a specter on speed. She reached Oliver's room and was horrified to see the door closed. She gave very little thought to what she did next. She barged in without even knocking and sighed in dismay.

***

"And that's the shed. It's where they store the garbage they're not sure what to do with." He inspected some rusty garden shears. "I'm not sure what you thought to be interesting here, but there you have it."

Oliver and Rita had reached the final stop of the tour. The shed was relatively remote from the pool; even so, the music and laughter could be heard with ease. It was a medium sized shed with a small window facing the hedges nearby. There were mainly stacked boxes and work tools dangling from numerous hooks on the wall.

"Your parents have one beautiful home." Rita paced about the shed and inspected some boxes. "I bet your girlfriends were having the time of their lives with the pool and everything."

"Yeah, it's... it is a great house."

Rita shot him a knowing smile and continued to aimlessly inspect the boxes. "How many have you had? Girlfriends I mean."

"Oh, there was um... Annabel and uh... we should probably head back. I don't want my daughter to start worrying, and honestly, I have very little faith in my brother as a babysitter. I shouldn't have left her with him in the first place."

"Then why did you?" She smiled, knowingly again.

"Because um... I..."

She giggled at the sight of him squirming. "You haven't had many girls; I can tell."

"You're wrong; I've had plenty," he swiftly lied, anxious to disprove his loser image. "More than like... a lot."

He cussed himself for that pathetic uttering. He couldn't even string a few simple lies together without sounding like the insecure liar that he was.

"More than... a lot?" Rita guffawed and sat on the small table they had there. She crossed her mocha-flavored legs, her yellow bikini beaming in the faint light. "You see, Oliver, lying to a girl you like is just a poor choice of tactics. Don't you know that honesty is the number one attribute a girl looks for in a guy?" She giggled. "After being hot and rich of course."

"You think I'm hot?" he asked sheepishly, excited at the possibility.

Rita found his shy gaze borderline comical when laboring to profile him. "What's the deal with you? You must let me in on that."

"What deal?"

"I mean that you're a deliciously looking swan who's acting like the ugliest duckling around here, and it was the same at the bar that night. What's up with that?"

"No, I'm not acting like I'm"—he tried his best not to grin—"you think I'm delicious-looking?"

A chuckle of disbelief escaped her throat. "If I had to guess... I'd say you haven't had girlfriends, excluding your daughter's mother of course. Now tell me I'm wrong, and before you do, just remember the importance of being honest."

That grin he'd been trying to suppress easily dissipated now when he nodded in silence, embarrassed that she saw right through him.

"Why?" she said, genuinely fascinated.

"I um"—he gestured at his bare abdomen—"wasn't always put this well together. I used to be really fat and... sort of... not that great-looking, and shocking as it may sound, girls didn't seem to find me all that appealing."

A moment of stillness followed his explanation.

"Well, that pretty much answers everything, doesn't it?" She smiled. "How did you get to be this?"

"After I met Michela's mother, I started a diet and sports regime, and... there you have it."

"She made you do it?"

"No." He smiled, recalling Bianca's reaction to his dieting efforts in fondness. "She said I was taking away everything she loved about me."

"Then why did you persist?"

"I kinda felt"—he gulped—"inadequate. Bianca was better looking than I was. She was good-looking, actually, and I knew that all her friends were wondering what the hell she was doing with me, and I just... didn't like that feeling."

She let it hang in the air for a moment, trying to make eye contact with him. "Have you been with other girls?"

"That's like... a really personal question, one that I don't feel comfortable answering, and to be honest, I really should get back to my daughter."

He turned to the door.

"Oliver, don't go."

He swiveled back around.

"I'm sorry if I overstepped my bounds. I know I'm a little pushy here, but all I want is just to get to know you better."

"You do?"

"Yes. I don't care that you're inexperienced; in fact, it kinda turns me on."

"I'm not that inexperienced. I had sex for almost a yea—I mean... shit," he sighed, blood mounting up in his cheeks as he couldn't believe he just blurted it out like that.

Rita looked into his eyes again, though not amusingly this time around. "What are we doing here?"

"What do you mean?"

"Is this going to go somewhere? I.e., are you looking for a relationship?"

"I don't know."

"You don't know? I thought you said you were into me."

"And I wasn't lying, but I'm not even a month here in the States after five years of living abroad. I just got a job; my daughter is still adjusting; I need to get my own place. There's a lot going on in my life at the moment. I'm not sure I have the space for a relationship, too. Not now anyway."

"That's too bad. 'Cause I believe that we'd really work well together."

"I don't doubt it. I'm just telling you how it is. With Michela in my life, everything is so much more complicated. I don't want to start relationships and for her to get attached to a person only to see her leaving. I'm looking for some degree of certainty, and my life just isn't allowing for one at the moment."

She pondered his explanation. "Fair enough. I understand. You have a little girl to look after. It's admirable, actually." She rose with a smile. "Hug?"

Oliver nodded in a blend of surprise and excitement.

Rita wound her arms around his neck and Oliver coiled his around her bare waist in quite the intimate hug.

Oliver couldn't deny that he was very attracted to Rita, and that questionably friendly embrace made it a fact. He was getting very excited when feeling her bosom giving against him, at her fragrance, and at her touch. For a—brief—moment, he wished his life weren't that complicated: that he wasn't a single dad, that he didn't have a child to raise, that he wasn't in love with his sister. The latter he wished for for more than a brief moment. He wished for it to death.

While still tangled in that hug, Rita laid her head on his shoulder and sighed on his neck. "You're such a nice guy, Oliver. I can feel it in the way you hold me... so nice."

"I'm not that nice," he whispered back, knowing nice guys finish last.

"You're not?"

"I can be really mean when I want to."

"Can you?" she softly whispered.

He hummed a yes.

"You know what's mean?"

"What?"

"The way you're pressing your hard dick against me now."

Oliver almost fainted from the mortification. He hadn't realized it, but he was harder than ever, and his dick was indeed pressed to Rita's taut stomach.

"Oh shit!" He tried to retreat. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean... Rita?"

Oliver was flummoxed as Rita wasn't allowing him to untangle himself. She kept herself firmly pressed to his massive erection.

"I'm not like you, Oliver," she whispered. "I can't be mean."

"You can't?"

She shook her head on his shoulder. "Do you... want me to take care of it for you?"

Oliver couldn't believe his ears. "Take care of it how?"

She started stroking his cock over his swim trunks, still in his arms and with her head still on his shoulder. "Obviously, I won't let you fuck me, not until we dated for a while if that to happen, but I guess I can give you a handjob"—she shrugged in innocence —"or suck you off if you want."

Rita was a shrewd woman. She was interested in Oliver and found Michela adorable, and after his reluctance, she thought to give him a taste of what he would be missing out on; regardless, she was horny as hell by now from precisely what his sister found to be so difficult to look away from.

"Do you want me"—she pinched the head of his cock over his trunks and rubbed slowly with her thumb—"to blow you?"

Oliver was still reeling from the shock that Rita was offering to give him head. He didn't even see it coming. He quickly sifted through the two options that the pretty woman in his arms had presented with no strings attached.

"I um... yeah." He cleared his throat. "If you want, that is."

"It's not about what I want here. It's about you, Oliver." She hooked her thumb into his waistband. "I want to do something nice for you," she whispered in his ear, her fingers clutching the head of his cock, "but I want you to ask me to. That's all I want."

"Thank you, Rita," he breathed as her thumb circled his piss slit. "Yeah, a blowjob would be great."

"Oh, Oliver, I don't give great blowjobs." She drew her hand back and dropped down to her knees. "You see, the blowjobs that I give"—she tugged down his trunks and smirked when his erection swung before her eyes—"are mind-boggling..."

"Oh god," he panted when her tongue awarded his tip a gentle lick.

"You have such a nice cock, Oliver," she purred, her warm breath hitting his piss slit. "Really nice..."

"Thank you," he gasped, feeling very self-aware.

"I really mean it. I sucked some messed up dicks back in my day, but this"—she gave her lips an outrageous lick—"is going to be a delight."

Rita's seductive uttering could alone get Oliver to come. The way she looked up into his eyes as she said something dirty, and the soft, purring tone in which she whispered it, was going to make her—blow—job even swifter than what she might have suspected.

She delivered another warm breath to his piss slit and pressed her lips to his glans, engulfing half of it. Her tongue slowly swirled as she held his dick in her warm hand. She bobbed her mouth on the head of his cock and popped him out. Her glob of drool strained down until it broke from his tip and back into her mouth.

Oliver gasped in awe, admiring that lewd trick.

"It's quite meaty, isn't it?" She smiled and gave his head a few delicate tugs. "Your cock."

"I guess," he breathed, watching Rita's lithe fingers spiraling up and down his length.

"Oh, it is; trust me," she purred. "You're beefy." She licked up his shaft and gazed into his eyes. "Look, I can't even close my fist."

"Yeah, that's... unfortunate—I mean, yeah..."

Rita felt immense gratification when seeing how excited he was getting. She noted his accelerated breathing, and her other hand that was pressed to his six-pack could feel the heat and sweat accumulating on his tonus.

"Let's just hope I can close my lips around it." She gave his prick a test-drive when inserting a quarter of him into her mouth. She pulled him right out and tugged at his tip with a smile. "Just barely."

"Thank god," he sighed in relief.

The possibility that Rita might not have been be able to blow him was too painful.

"If you were my boyfriend"—her tongue wiggled across his piss slit—"I would blow you forever."

"I'm dying for you to blow me now," he breathed. "You're driving me crazy."

She smiled slyly. "I bet you're gonna come so hard... speaking of which"—her tongue gave his robust muscle a couple upstrokes—"where do you wanna come?"

"What are my options?"

"Well"—she sucked softly on the base of his shaft—"you can come in my hand." She kissed her way up to his tip. "Or you can... I don't guess you'd want to come on my face, would you?"

Oliver almost exploded in her hand at that second. Although a loving partner, Bianca had never let him paint her face.

"If you don't mind, I..." he stammered in excitement.

"You do want to give me a facial," she purred with a cunning grin, her hand sustaining her progress with his orgasm. "You really are mean. You wanna see how I look with your cum as my makeup?"

His head jerked up and down.

"Well then... I'd better get to work."

Oliver could feel Rita's warm breath once more on the head of his cock a second before her lips enveloped it, but this time, she didn't suck on the tip. She took him deeper and started sucking his dick purposively. She opened her mouth as wide as she could and blew him without her lips even touching his dick. She kept that up for seconds, just letting her saliva drool down his length, before wrapping her lips around his pole and claiming her spit back by sucking him snugly. She massaged his large balls in her hand when sucking a bit faster. The taste of his pre-cum hit her palate not long after, so she took him out and licked his shaft, wanting to slow him down.

Rita would normally suck her dicks faster at this point, but Oliver wasn't just another dick to her. She wanted him to take his time to really enjoy her mouth, to savor her tongue and lips, to relish her spit and technique. It wasn't enough for her to blow his cock; she needed to dazzle his mind, as well. She wanted him to daydream about her mouth on his dick for weeks.

When she felt he'd cooled down a little, she slid him back into her warm mouth, eager to deep-throat him. She pushed more and more of him in and gagged after sucking more than she could swallow. She could immediately feel his dick throbbing on her pleasuring tongue when she coughed up his cock. He wasn't coming, but she knew he liked seeing her gagging, and she smiled inwardly as she kept her excellent fellatio going.

While Rita was blowing her brother, Ellie, who'd been searching for Oliver all around, decided to give the shed a go. She didn't know where else he could be, and she knew he would never leave the house without Michela. She hurried to the shed and was about to open the door when she heard hungry slurping noises. She decided to peek through the window, just in case other people were occupying the space. She circled the shed and witnessed her greatest fear becoming a reality: Her baby brother was standing buck naked, and that Latina bimbo, Rita, was sucking his cock while on her knees in her yellow bikini.

"Oliver, no..."

Ellie hated Oliver so much at that moment, even if she knew she shouldn't. She'd been fucking Jason throughout this time, and she knew she couldn't nor shouldn't expect Oliver to abstain from sex, to live a life of celibacy simply because she couldn't give him what he wished for, what she wished for.

She wanted nothing more than to run off in tears as her heart ached beyond belief, yet some twisted part of her kept her planted in the ground, unable to move. Neither the sucker nor the suckee were facing the window, so she knew she would remain unseen. Her bikini bottom was slowly getting moist, even though she'd been long dry from the pool. She was getting excited watching that slutty Latino mouth engulfing her brother's boner in such devotion, sucking and licking, and gagging on his beautiful cock.

A shudder of lust coursed through Ellie when realizing her brother was sporting a sizable erection in that bimbo's mouth. She could appreciate his girth, even from that far away, and his length was more than respectable in her eyes. His erection was commanding, and she couldn't believe how desperate she was to switch places with that mocha-skinned tart.

What Ellie did next, she wasn't proud of, yet she did it anyway. Her brother's return after years of exile had mangled her psyche and heart in irreversible ways, and actions that had been considered unthinkable back then, were now, sadly for her, the norm. She parted her legs and reached down for the juncture of her thighs. She could feel how hot she was when cupping her cunt over the white fabric. She had to take care of herself. She knew she wouldn't last until she got home.

She slipped her hand into her bikini bottom and felt warm wetness oozing out of her bald slit. Her labia, which were fleshy by design, were now more distended than ever as blood filled them up with immense yearn. She couldn't take it anymore, watching that magnificent cock gagging that whore time and again.

Ellie was afraid of giving head for that precise reason. She found it humiliating and intimidating to be gagged on some guy's filthy cock, but at this moment, she wanted nothing more than to be gagged on her brother's dick. She wanted to be one who was coughing up that hard, vicious prick. She wanted him to slap her in the face with that scary erection. She wanted him to fill her up everywhere she could accommodate him. She wanted to be his whore. His sole whore.

Two taps on her clit later, and Ellie was up and running. She slotted her middle finger in and began pumping it in her aching pussy while rubbing her button with her thumb. She wanted to come so badly with her brother. The second his cum was spewed out, she wanted to flood her bikini bottom, so she worked herself patiently, knowing she was extremely close, but Oliver could gag that Latina whore for another minute, she estimated.