A Fantasy of Susan Ch. 2byKrystian©
Author's Note: A Fantasy of Susan is the first story of a trilogy as related to me by my wife Marie. If you are offended by the ideas of group sex, lesbianism, marital infidelity, or incest then this series is not for you.
All I could do was lay on the cold tile, my body shivering as much from the unreleased passion inside me as from the chill air that enveloped me.
Anya rushed to my side, her arm bracing against my back as she used her fingers to clear my shoulder length locks from my face.
"Marie, are you ok?"
I looked at her and began to sob. My hands came up to cover my face. The scent of my frustrated efforts was heavy on the air and I was sure it was obvious to this woman I had only known for a matter of weeks.
"Ssshhhh! It's ok, honey." She consoled, wrapping her arms around me to hold me up. He gentle hands caressed my hair and I found myself crying against her, wetting the tee shirt to her breast. "You just fell, that's all."
It seemed like hours that we sat there. The warmth of her body crushed against mine was the only solace I could find in this humiliating situation. The beating of her heart against my cheek was steady and soft and I found my breath matching hers as I worked to compose myself.
"Are you hurt anywhere?" She asked. Her eyes filled with compassion for me.
I shook my head no and sniffed back a last tear. "C'mon." She said, taking my hand. "Let's get you up." With her help I wrapped a towel around my waist and slowly squished my way back to my bedroom. Had I imagined it or did she stop to lift her hand to her face as I departed? For a moment our eyes met but, embarrassed, I turned away.
I heard Anya turn the shower off and walk to her room as I grabbed the sheet from my bed and made it into a makeshift robe. I was still shaking when she walked into my room. My eyes must have doubled in size.
Standing in the doorway she was pulling a new tee shirt over her head. Silhouetted there she seemed like a statue. Skin white as snow, blonde tresses pouring down over her shoulders to land softly in the middle of her back. Her slim waist leading up to two incredibly firm and taut tits that looked like they were made to fit in the palm of one's hands. Though covered in a white bra I could see faint outlines where it seemed the points of her nipples were screaming for release. She had removed her jeans and thrown on a pair of swimming trunks. Even in such masculine attire there was no denying she was very sexy. If she was this devastating at 19, I thought, imagine her at 24.
With that thought I turned my head before she could catch me staring at her. What was going on? Just minutes ago I had been daydreaming of having sex with my boyfriend and now here I was, drip-drying, and "checking out" another woman. How could this be happening? I knew I was straight. The only other time I had ever imagined another woman was an innocent touch at the hands of my own sister years before.
"Well, that was enough excitement for one day." Anya exclaimed, taking a seat at the far end of my bed. "Are you sure you're ok?"
"I'm ok. Just a little shaken." Boy, was that ever the truth.
An awkward silence fell upon us until she spoke again.
"I was just re-doing my make-up, thought maybe I'd head into town for a little excitement."
Her new lipstick was shining in the sunlight that came through my bedroom window.
"Not much going on around here, I thought, then I heard that racket and ran in to find you laying there. I thought maybe you had hit your head."
"No. I'm ok, really." She smiled and took my hand. I couldn't swear to it but I was pretty sure I was shaking harder as the moments crept by.
"It's hard to be out here all alone" She said.
I smiled nervously in agreement as her hand caressed mine and turned my eyes away. My mind was going a hundred miles an hour and I couldn't seem to find a thought to hold onto.
"You miss your boyfriend?"
"Yes" I whispered.
"You look nervous."
"I'm not gay!" I just blurted it out.
Anya stopped for a moment, a look of bewilderment on her face. Her hand released mine and I could see her searching for the words in her head. Then that warm, infectious smile returned and she began to laugh.
"Don't believe all the rumors you hear about my people." She replied.
"No, it's not that."
"Then what's got you so worked up, hon?"
"You're really beautiful."
"You're all upset because you need to tell me I'm pretty?"
I could tell she was joking. I giggled nervously in return.
"It's just that you remind me of someone."
"I do? Who? I hope not your boyfriend."
We both laughed.
"No, actually my sister."
Her eyes smoldered and she sucked in her breath. "Really."
I didn't know what to say. It wasn't as if I had just told her I was in love with her or anything but I wondered what thoughts were running through her mind. My own thoughts drifted to Susan, my sister. She was 18 now and was just as active as Craig and I sexually. Or so she bragged to me. I don't know if it was the similair builds or what but something about Anya reminded me of Susan. Something about her energy and her raw sexual appeal.
Whatever Anya was thinking, I wasn't prepared for what happened next. She pounced across the bed and wrapped her arms around me. Her momentum took me off guard and I tumbled back onto my bed with her astride me. Her laughter was ringing in my ears and I was barely able to make out her words:
"Well, I don't mind being your sister at all." I hugged her to me and we laughed playfully together. My arms were around her back and as she sat up my fingers brushed the sensitive skin on the underside of her arm. She lifted her arms above her chest but my fingertips remained against her skin.
"My" she said, a devilish look in her eye. With that Anya leaned back down, her hair forming a curtain around our faces. Slowly, she moved to my left and put her mouth to my ear. The next instant I found her lips enveloping my lobes and her knees tightened on either side of my waist.
I was lost.