Valentine's Candy: Open Wide

Looking over her shoulder, he watched the hem of her skirt slowly climb as his fingers gathered the fabric in. Vaguely, he felt her fingers tugging him tighter against her.

Her thighs were tan and smooth and long. As more of them were revealed, the gently curving sweeps continued to show a space between them. Then her thighs ended.

With a last upward lift of the fabric, Val exposed her thin panties. His knees buckled now as he groaned.

Her panties were pale yellow to match her dress and unadorned. The space between her thighs was covered by a gentle double curve of cotton, a shallow indent running between them. The lower portion was transparent with moisture and a sheen of wet highlighted the top of one inner thigh.

Most boys his age, in the same situation, would be trying to figure out to quickest way to get their dick inside the beautiful eager girl, stepsister or not. Valentine knew, and had been warned, that there was no way he was getting inside a girl like her. The knowledge gave him patience, sure it could only go so far.

He led her back to the bed, gathering her into his arms for a long kiss before guiding her up onto the covers. He clambered up beside her. Her skirt was still bunched up high on her legs, but her soaked panties were hidden.

With one finger, he lifted the second shoulder strap up and soft her. With both hands he shimmied the top down around her waist. She was stunning. He had seen her in bikinis for years. He knew what suit had given her these tiny tan lines.

Never before had her sweet, smooth belly looked like this to him. She was open and exposed to him, trusting him with her body. Trusting him not to hurt her.

He locked his lips on the more recently exposed nipple and sucked. Candy squealed with an arch of her back. When he flicked his tongue over it between his lips, she grabbed the back of his head.

He released the hard little bud to look at her face. She was panting, hands in his hair. "So you like that?"

She nodded before tightening her grip on his head. "Definitely. More please."

He used his tongue more now, flicking harder over her swollen nipples. The kissing, tugging on it gently with just his lips before renewing his tongue's assault.

Candy cried out. He moved back to the first, neglected breast. He cradled it in his hand, squeezing it as though checking for ripeness. It felt perfect in his hand. Not sagging in the slightest, firmly resistant to his pressure, but alive in a way Mrs. Malone's implants couldn't be.

He pinched the sensitive nipple, pulling it up away from her body slightly, stretching her breast to a point. It didn't hurt, but her face showed worry that it might.

He held it there while he ran long soft licks over the captured nubbin. Stimulated on that tender spot while held in a place just before pain, Candy couldn't hold still. Her fingers twisted in his hair while her toes clenched repeatedly, trying to grasp at something uselessly inside her sneakers.

He slid up to kiss her. Her hands stayed grabbed at his head while she kissed him back more frantically than ever. Her tongue was hungry and aggressive. She pressed her body against his.

When she pulled back her lips were swollen, open and panting. He saw fire in her eyes.

"Will you be mine? I'm not even sure what I mean, but I know I want you to be mine. Will you? Be my Valentine? Be mine?"

Suddenly, his throat was dry. He didn't know what to say. He nodded.

She kissed him. "Thank you."

She glanced down, where her dress bunched around her middle. "Are you really going to lick me like that, down there?"

"If you want me to."

"Yes I want you to! Can you feel how close I am to a climax?"

"Climax? Are you going to cum?"

She nodded. "Oh yeah. I can feel it. Please."

"Please do what? I want to hear you say it."

"Val! You tease. Please lick me. Please make me...cum with your tongue. My Valentine."

He slid down without answering, nipping at one breast as her passed, kissing over her smooth stomach. Her legs opened as he slid between them. Drawing close, he blew lightly over the wet fabric clinging to her lips. Nothing was hidden.

She lifted her hips to him. "Yes. Right there."

He ran his tongue along her slit, over the cotton. She groaned as he tasted her juices soaking the cloth.

"So close."

He ran his tongue up higher and her hips bucked.

"Oh god."

Valentine fixed his lips to the cotton directly over her swollen hidden clit and sucked. She screamed at the intense sudden sensation.

He added his tongue, flicking over the spot as it had done on her nipple. Her back arched in one long spasm. A prolonged growl escaped her as she ruptured inside, her arms and legs swimming aimlessly as she was lost in the rapture.

Valentine was in heaven. As she continued to writhe, he pulled the soaked cotton panel aside and buried his face in her virgin slit. Licking deeply, sucking voraciously, savoring every morsel he could, he devoured her.

Candy felt the tension that had been building up in her for hours now, begun by a kiss and fueled by the evident bulge that she had inspired on a dreamy walk with a handsome boy who made her feel so comfortable and so tormented, teased to new heights by sights and sensations completely new to her culminating in his tongue and lips on her most private parts, finally release.

Before now, in she brief experience with her own climaxes, the pressure built, often to near agonizing levels, and then it was released. Release may come from fingers, a massaging spray, or a vibrating toothbrush. The release felt wonderful, but so did the build up in her center, the winding of the spring, the torture.

This time was different. In many ways. She had never cum with another person present. Not watching, or touching, or licking or sucking. More importantly to Candy at that moment, though, was another way this was different.

Valentine's kisses, and his talk, and his touches and his cock had her wound tight and ready to explode. She could have cum with what his mouth was doing to her nipples, she was sure, but the tension has reached such a pitch she needed the release.

Then his lips and breath and tongue found her button. The release was immediate and strong. Sight and sound were lost to her in the rush of overwhelming waves passes through her.

The sensation on her clit was so intense as she came that she would have begged him to stop if she could have thought or spoken. Instead, the intensity shot skyward, the white light blinding her became white hot fire burning without consuming.

Tension flooded into her center as quickly as it released. The agony of her tormented senses, pushed beyond their limits, continued on and on and on.

Eventually, Valentine's licks and kisses slowed. The bucking of her sweet hips stopped and the arch that had held her rigid relaxed, but continued to shake, almost like a deep shiver from near hypothermia.

He climbed up to her and gathered her in his arms. He held her as her shaking gradually slowed.

Her breath quieted. Without lifting her head from his chest, her voices muffled, she murmured, "What did you do to me?"

He stroked her hair and kissed her forehead. He chuckled, proud of himself. "You'll be okay."

"No. I won't be okay. I thought I was going insane or that my head would explode and I already want to do it again. I don't think I'll ever be okay, Val. You've ruined me."

He kissed her forehead again. "You're welcome."

"Oh, by the way. Would you be my Valentine?"

Candy pulled away from him, to stare at his face, as if to see if she was being kidded. "Be Valentine's Valentine?"

"Exactly."

"Yes please." With a squeal of delight, she pressed her lips to his. She quickly pulled back to look at him.

"Dude, you taste funny. What have you got on your face?"

"Only you, beautiful, only you."

Val rolled toward the nightstand and check the time on his phone. "Oh shit. Can, Mom could be home anytime."

They both looked down at themselves. Candy's yellow dress was a scrunched up tangle around her waist, revealing perfect untanned titties above, and soaked panties pushed aside, hiding nothing below.

It took her no time to adjust underwear and pull the dress back over her young breasts. She straddled him, pinning his down wrists with her small hands, and kissed him.

"Thank you. I look forward to our next lesson." She pushed herself down on his bulge as she said the last. She kissed him again, deeper, then licked along his chin. "And wash your face before Mom gets home."

She bounced out of bed, smoothed her skirt quickly in front of his mirror, and blew him a kiss on her way out. She popped back into view and exaggerated the motion of grabbing the door knob and beginning to swing his door closed.

He heard her theatrical whisper, "And don't forget to close your door."

Valentine reclined and stared at the ceiling, stunned. He kept seeing Candy arched above him while he licked her to an ongoing climax, alternating long tastes along her outer lips with hungry probing laps inside.

His gorgeous sweet innocent stepsister wasn't scared of him either. He thought of her, soon, using her tongue on him, but his attention quickly wandered back to his mouth on her.

He hadn't been the boy with the horse cock, servicing an experienced woman who knew what she wanted and how to ask for it. He had been the experienced one, Candy the perfect student.

She was just learning what she wanted, and how to ask for it, though Valentine was sure there was at least one thing he wouldn't be able to show her, as much as he'd loved to have climbed between her bare legs, torn those wet panties off and plunged into her.

He couldn't hurt her; no matter what he had to keep her safe, even from him.

He rolled out of bed before he fell asleep again or Mom caught him with Candy juice dried on his face. Unbidden, an image appeared of his Mom in the gold sequin dress that she had been about to change out of, leaning in to kiss his cheek, hugging herself close to him.

He is more aware of her fit body against his than normal.

"Val?" Her voice sounds puzzled. "Why do you smell like pussy?"

He headed toward his bath across the hall, shaking his head. He turned on the water before rummaging through his bag for his toiletries.

He spied his new vape pen. They were the latest thing in the dorms. The cartridge held enough THC concentrate to last a month or more of occasional use, and there was none of that distinctive cloying pot smoke or breath to get sniffed out. It recharged with a USB plug and looked almost like a pen.

He drew in a few slow drags, exhaling water vapor with a slight sweetish odor. It would take the buzz a little while to kick in compared to smoking marijuana. He climbed into the shower and let the massage head pound the pulsing jets over his head and neck.

After toweling his hair dry, he wrapped himself in a thick terry robe and aimed for the kitchen. He heard music, Swing, from the media room. And voices: Mom and Aunt Mar.

"Hi, ladies. Did you have fun?"

They were dancing, a slightly drunken West Coast with Marguerite leading.

"Val!" They both began. Aunt Marguerite continued. " ...entine!"

"Dance with us." She released one of his mother's hands and reached out to him. He cinched his robe tight before taking each of their hands, forming a circle of three. Marguerite pulled them all together. A group hug, swaying vaguely with the music.

"My Valentine."

His mom pulled him closer. She sounded pensive. "No, he's my Valentine."

"Our Valentine." Marguerite was not ready to relinquish him completely.

Melanie shook her head. "Not tonight. He was my Valentine first, and he's mine tonight."

She snugged her arm deeper around his waist. He had noticed her new dress. The blue shimmer made her shiny blond hair pop, but it was the way the halter top displayed her shoulders, her neck and chest that had caught his attention. She was about the same size as Candy, but more toned, almost ripped.

She had a beautiful lean musculature to her shoulders particularly, but his eye was drawn between them, to the smooth taut skin over the sternum and plunging down between straps of her dress.

As his newly possessive mother pulled him to her hip, both of them each still holding one of Marguerite's hands, his arm draped around her. While she almost glared at her dark-haired friend, claiming him, her son looked down at her.

Below him, past his mother's resolute visage, his eyes wandered back to the smooth tanned skin between her aqua blue straps and the small swellings beneath them. She couldn't be wearing a bra with that plunge in front and her nipples distorted the shimmering weave of the dress enough that they both appeared as twin silver accents on lovely matched green blue mounds.

"Okay, Mel. This dance is yours." The brunette's voice was low and soothing. It brought Val's eyes up from ogling his mom. The vape pen tokes had kicked in. He'd have to remind himself to not space out on things. Especially things like his own mom's nipples.

Marguerite released both of their hands. Val felt her palm slide to his back and gently press him forward as he saw her other hand guide his mom. The beautiful blond in her clinging shimmering dress looked up at him as their bodies were led together. She lifted her newly freed hand to place it lightly behind his neck.

The Latina maintained a light pressure on his back. Her other hand found his and led it up around his mother's back. "That's it. Dance with your mother tonight. A woman needs to be held sometimes. Just held and rocked slowly."

Her heels were loud as she left them swaying together, mother and son. "I'm going to get me a drink."

They danced slowly, though the music encouraged double time. If no one was looking, and he was dancing with Candy, he would want to be a little closer than this. But this was closer to his mom than he ever would have considered, privacy or not. Maybe it was the pot, but he was seeing more than motherly love in her eyes.

"What are you thinking sweetheart?" Her fingers stroked his nape.

"You're beautiful, Mom. I like this dress better than the other one."

Her smile was delighted. "You called me hot tonight. Did you mean it? Is your mom really hot?"

He couldn't control his quick glance down toward her cleavage, now too close to see her nipples. "Yeah, Mom, really hot. Especially in this dress."

Bouncing up on her toes the slight bit she could in her already high heels, she wrapped both arms around his neck, pressing her face to the side of his head. In the shoes, she as nearly his height. Valentine found his mouth, nose, and eyes immersed in her fine long hair.

"My little Valentine is a man now. A big strong man." She leaned against him. He felt the slight compression of a breast against him, but the slight angle at which they'd been dancing pressed her against his hip, preventing his mother from pushing directly into her son's prominent package. The position did cause his hand and arm to shift when she launched her arms around his neck. One hand ended lightly cupping one round cheek. He was surprised at how well the the firm globe fit his hand.

Val froze with his hand there. He thought if he did nothing it might seem accidental. Pulling his hand away was recognition that he had been touching her like that.

He inhaled a blend of aromas through her hair. Musky, spicy, sweet. He sniffed again.

"Mom, have you been drinking?"

She giggled by his ear, sending a vibration through him. "Duh."

The click of heels returned. "Did someone say drinking?"

Marguerite had an ice filled dark drink in each hand. "Coke for the nice young man being kind to his mother. Rum and Coke for me."

She held out a glass to him. Melanie turned toward her friend, still holding her son close. "More rum? I thought you said you'd had enough."

"I did, didn't I?" Successful in throwing the shorter woman off, Mel snuggled her face close to her son again.

The offered glass pulled back and the other replaced it. "Coke for me, Rum and Coke for the handsome young stud taking pity on his mom."

"Hey!" Came a muffled voice by his ear. He pulled the objector close to his hip with one arm and accepted the spiked drink with the other. His mom didn't let him drink alcohol often. He swallowed half if it, grimacing at the burn. Not much Coke.

"Thank you. And by the way, I am not taking pity on anyone here. I got a chance to dance with a beautiful sexy woman and I'm not missing out." He chugged the rest of the drink and offered the ice filled glass back.

He took the soft murmur as Mel pressed herself into him, nuzzling her face deeper into his thick hair, as appreciation. Once she felt his second arm wrap low around her again she raised one hand from his neck long enough to make a vague waving motion.

Her voice was distant. "Go away now, bartender. Leave us alone. I want to dance with my wonderful Valentine."

"Very well, Miss. If you or the young Sir require anything please use the bell. I shall retire to the spa."

Val felt one light kiss on his neck as his mother began to sway again with the music. He moved with her, at least partly to avoid his bulge coming any nearer his mother.

Alcohol was still new to him and, mixed with the pot, his head was swimming. He tried desperately not to think of Candy, knowing what that would do to his cock and the chances of it becoming obvious.

Aunt Marguerite, drunk, going to the spa at this time in the evening probably meant she was staying the night, and usually meant she wanted him to join her in the swirling hot water, secluded from view. Probably shouldn't think of that either, especially wearing just a robe.

"Does it feel good?"

"Hmm?" Her question brought him thankfully back from dangerous thoughts.

She wiggled her hips against his and his hand moved with her ass. "Does it feel good? In your hand."

He realized he'd started lightly massaging her cheek when his thoughts turned to Candy's lessons.

"Don't stop. It feels good." He did as he was told. It was just massaging a muscle. He had rubbed her shoulders and feet enough in the past.

Somehow she had shifted more in front of him when she'd wiggled her hips. The large knot in the thick terry cloth belt holding his robe closed pushed into his gut. He hoped it would keep their lower parts separated. As the rum soaked into his bloodstream he became less worried about it.

Her breath felt good on his neck. Both firm breasts pressed hard against his chest. His other hand had somehow found a second round cheek.

Her moist breath trailed down from his ear. He felt a light kiss on the sensitive skin there.

Then a whisper, humming against him. "Val."

"Yes, Mom."

"You called me sexy."

She leaned back, arching, enough to look her son in the eye. "Am I sexy?"

His mind more addled, he wasn't as quick when his gaze wandered downward at her question. The arch in her back pulled her upper body back away from him and upward. Their dancing had shifted the halter and he could see more of one breast where the fabric had been pushed outward. Both nipples appeared harder and more distinct pressing through the fabric.

His voice sounded hoarse, his throat constricted from his lowered head. His eyes stayed on her body. "Very, very sexy."

"Thanks." She looked close to crying. Then she grinned, reached up and kissed him. Not an intimate kiss, but not how he remembered her kissing in the past. It surprised him, but he thought he might have kissed her back before her lips pulled back.

"I think I like dancing drunk with my son."

She wrapped her arms around his neck again, tucking her face back away. His hands responding using their presence on her tight bottom to pull her against him.