Uncle Charlie's Funeral

Watching my cock disappear behind a mass of red fur was a sight impossible to forget. After several thrusts, some hidden muscles inside her gripped hard against my cock as she rose up, and she smiled knowing what it did to me. I let go of one boob not because it didn't feel great—it did! But watching the movement was even better than groping it. I almost let the other one go, too, but it felt so damn good in my hand, I figured watching one was good enough.

Perhaps in the back of my mind I was already thinking of the next time. And the time after that.

I only lasted a couple of minutes. Heck, great as it felt and the mind-altering vision of her on top of me, it is somewhat surprising I lasted ten seconds. Soon as she felt me gushing inside her and my deep grunting, she repositioned so her clitoris rubbed against the shaft and began moving faster, hoping to get herself off again before I went soften her. Quick, desperate little movements now that shook her tits in the most amazing way, which titillated me enough to make sure I didn't fade. Heck, I believe I could have stayed hard for days watching Kat move like that.

I tried to watch everything all at the same time: her bouncing boobies, my cock sliding into her, and her face as her eyes closed and she bit her lip. A minute or so later, she started sighing again, and her motions slowed as another orgasm swept through her freckled body.

Basking in the afterglow, she lay on her back as my finger traced her nipples, tickled her bellybutton and ran through her firebush. "That was amazing," I said.

"Wasn't it?"

"I suppose you will tell Kitty everything?"

"Maybe not the part about your finger up my ass. Although she would get a kick out of that, let me tell you."

"The question is, did you get a kick out of it?"

"It felt much better than I expected. You're a pretty darn amazing lover."

"So are you."

"I'm not going to ask you to compare me with my sister..."

"You'd better not!"

"But did you miss the oral sex?"

"Oh, damn—you are comparing the two of you!"

"Well, you are the only one who has been with both of us."

"In other words, is your sister's blow job as good as making love to you?"

"I didn't mean it like that!"

"Yes you did!" I rolled over, tickling her. "You did—admit it! Say it!"

She shrieked and her boobs jiggled and she flailed as my tickling found its mark and I was hard again in two seconds. I drove into her while she was still giggling from the tickling, and she gasped and her eyes opened wide. A few thrusts later, lids closed over those baby blues and she held me tight.

We kissed as I fucked her this time, and nice as it felt, I needed to see her freckled tits over me again. Need is a strong word, but that's how I felt, so I rolled her over without letting myself slide out of her, and she pushed the hair out of her face and started where she left off before.

And how they swung! Every move of her body ended with a sway of her breasts. On each downstroke, when her body stopped against my hips, they jiggled sensationally. Sometimes I chased one down with my lips, hanging on long enough to suck her to a new level, then fell back again to enjoy the show.

Our first time worked as a valve to release the pent-up pressure; this time, we both savored the ride. Kat's back undulated as her hips moved up and down, up and down, my rod enjoying each time it slid behind that light copper triangle into her wet, tight, welcoming warmth.

From time to time, she swept back her red locks with either one hand or a flick of her head, each time looking like a supermodel during a photoshoot. Mostly, I caressed her with both hands on her waist. She did not need me to set the tempo, because she read my reactions and settled into the perfect one. My eyes scanned from golden triangle to her eyes and every freckled inch between.

But they kept returning to her breasts. Her left boob appeared to have more freckles, and I vowed to count each one. I may have actually gasped that out loud, at one point. Count each one while kissing every tiny light brown mark individually. Might take the better part of a day—there were hundreds!

Her head kicked back and she braced her hands on my shoulders, which made her arms push her boobies together in the most wonderful way. Now she drove me into her with a purpose, and her soft voice purred out a long, aching series of moans as she climaxed for what? The 3d time? I lost count.

Her breasts squeezed between her arms like that, her insistent thrusts, those love sounds coming from deep in her throat—no man could survive that. Not long after she came, I came again, too. There wasn't much left in me, not after how many times she and her little sister made me come in about the last 20 hours. That didn't reduce the power of my orgasm, at all.

I screamed loud enough to wake Aunt Kelly in the main house.

We slept in the same position I slept with her sister the night before—spooning, boob in hand. My heart pounded inside my chest, and I wondered if any man has ever been so glad their uncle dropped dead as I was that night.

© de Vere Literary, LLC 2021