I wasn’t originally planning a second sequel, but enough requests have prompted me to expand upon the first two. Hope the wait was worth it.
They sat in silence at the dinner table that evening, shrouded in secrets. Patriarch George Foley was still wrapped in a drab grey dressing gown, owing to the bout of fever that had set the incredible day in motion. Evacuating his sickbed for an hour, George lapped at the soup whilst trying not to allow taboo musings to cloud his brain. Son Josh was uniquely quiet, his 19-year old head awash with the twin sins of guilt and lust, whilst 18-year old stepdaughter Lucy barely dared to look at either. Somehow, in the blink of an eye, each had gone from family member to lover.
Everywhere in recent weeks, Lucy seemed to have been bombarded with sex, none more so than recently. Her mind cast back ten minutes, teeth sinking into her bottom lip, legs crossing almost subconsciously to stem the urge to touch herself.
A close-knit family unit, thrown together by the deaths of both kids’ mothers at an early age, openness prevailed and it was not uncommon to witness each other’s nudity or for the bathroom door to remain unlocked. However, what she’d witnessed and her reaction to it shocked Lucy to the core. As she’d walked into the bathroom, mind on other things, Josh had chosen that exact moment to climb from the bath. Water droplets clinging to his strong hirsute chest, cock stiffer than perhaps it might usually be, owing to a bout of hand relief seconds earlier, their eyes met in terror. Thankfully his ejaculation was now swirling around in a whirlpool and down the plughole, yet a moment earlier and Lucy would have witnessed his calling her name in orgasmic frenzy, culminating in a spectacular shot of cum like string from a party popper.
As Josh groped for the out-of-reach towel, Lucy pulled up sharply, the scene in freeze frame. Her first reaction was to crave apology, followed by an almost subconscious shift of the eyes to his semi-erect manhood. Simultaneously, Josh’s eyes honed in on her breasts, attentive nipples straining hard against the white cotton. The sexual tension like a coiled spring, unable to contain himself Josh reached out his wet paws, coating the firm pear-shaped breasts that stuck wetly to the material. Lucy exhaled hard, yet backed away sheepishly as Josh stretched to cover his modesty with the towel. “Um, dinner ready in five minutes,” Lucy stammered.
The vision and the feeling replayed on Lucy’s brain at the dinner table, arousing her. It didn’t seem to take much these days to turn her thoughts to sex. It was as if she’d turned from an innocent virgin teen to some kind of cheap slut virtually overnight. Even the sight of a banana nestling in the fruit bowl caused her pussy to itch. 95% of her thoughts had a sexual slant, though the other 5% quickly found themselves infected with smut. Try as she might, Lucy could not rid herself of this newfound wantonness. Sat opposite her stepbrother now, she visualised his cock, tongue skirting her lips. Suddenly she felt all heady, her nose vibrating. “A-choooo.”
“Bless you,” offered George in a hoary voice, his first contribution.
Still indelibly etched on his brain like the lingering of a filament, the image of Lucy busily pleasuring both her and him as seemingly he slept provided a haunting visual. It had been so wrong yet oh so right. Guiltily he craved a repeat. At the same time, however, George was only too acutely aware of the competition pendik escort offered by his own younger, fitter and more handsome son. That eavesdropped conversation between Lucy and her friend that had kicked off the day left no doubt in George’s mind that her feelings for Josh went beyond the normal love between a brother and sister.
Lucy sneezed a second time, face buried in her hand, causing Josh to look up from his plate. “I think Dad’s given you his cold,” he joked, unaware of the implication behind the throwaway line.
Lucy knew it, and so did George, though Lucy was unaware her father had been conscious throughout. She glanced sideways, the guilt swiftly turning to lust, bringing a repeated tingling that added to the tingles elicited by the memory of Josh’s wet, naked body, and which resulted in her panties becoming very damp indeed. “Daddy hasn’t given me his cold,” Lucy protested. “Tammy has one too. It’s her fault.”
“I wasn’t aware you could catch a cold from talking to someone on the telephone,” observed George, immediately regretting bringing up the conversation that had set in motion this turn of events.
Thankfully Lucy didn’t pick up on the allusion, and never for one moment did she realise that her stepfather knew what she and Josh had done in that stolen moment. Yet the tension in the air was like an over-inflated and overstretched balloon about to burst any moment. It was Josh that diffused the tension by stepping down from the table. “I’m meeting Steve at the Crown,” he announced. “Wanna join us?” The question was directed at his stepsister. “Let poor dad have some peace and quiet.”
Lucy sniffed, feeling even groggier than before. She really had caught her stepfather’s cold. “I don’t think I feel like going the pub. You go. Daddy and I will console each other.”
That thought, and the chain of thoughts that sprang from it like infinite strands of DNA sent a rush of blood to George’s cock and he had to swiftly adjust the dressing gown. It was almost unbearable.
With Josh having vacated, the ailing pair set about the washing up. As Lucy bent to tuck away the dishes, the thigh length denim skirt riding up to reveal a triangle of cream panty, George experienced another throb. One minute she was an angelic girl-next-door, the next slut and seductress. Either way, George had to keep reminding himself that she was also his stepdaughter.
As he curled up on the sofa to watch a little TV before bed, Lucy stretched out on her belly on the floor, weight on her elbows, glancing through a magazine. Inevitably, George’s attention was distracted from the screen by his stepdaughter’s backside, its perfect curvature highlighted within the denim skirt. And yet Lucy had stretched out like this for as long as he could remember. It was as if she’d developed a fresh allure overnight, and suddenly things had become very different. His cock rose an inch from his thigh, barely contained within the dressing gown.
Lucy felt it too. Though she couldn’t see from this angle, instinct told her George was ogling her legs and buttocks. The very thought made her as hot as hell, the words on the page of the magazine blurring before her eyes. Her pussy ached with lust and her panties were getting ever damper. Damn, she’d gotten through so many pairs in the past fortnight. Rising quickly, she announced her intention to take a bath and an early night, just catching George’s eyes as quickly they averted to the TV. Leaning in, she stroked maltepe escort his forehead and pecked at his stubble-coated jaw. “Sleep tight, daddy. Hope you’re better in the morning.”
Mounting the stairs, Lucy had an awesome idea that sent a gush from her clit. God she was becoming a naughty girl of late. Oh but how the notion turned her on. Rubbing two fingers across the crotch of the panties, the stain spread thickly. Lucy didn’t know about a hot bath, a cold shower more like.
Disrobing on the landing, the laundry basket was visible in her father’s room. ‘Carelessly’ she tossed the stained panties so that they hung over the side. Smiling to herself she headed to the bathroom, the rush of summer air warming her naked body.
The bath was piping hot, just what a girl in the early stages of a cold craved. Puffy spheres of soap clung to her shapely breasts as she washed carefully, savouring her own body. She cupped the undersides, thumbs teasing each nipple, gasping at the sensation. Almost without thought, two fingers found her pussy, flicking at an engorged and hyper sensitive clit. No more than a dozen stokes and the orgasm wracked her entire body. Looking appealingly at the door, its bolt unfastened, Lucy heard George mount the stairs, her breath starting to race. Yet, perhaps through guilt or sickness, George headed straight to bed.
Her ablutions completed, Lucy snuck into bed, thoughts immediately returning to lust and wild acts of copulation so vivid that these thoughts would surely inseminate the dreams to follow. For whilst imaging sex was one thing, dreams were the next best thing to the act itself, waking thoughts as poor a relation as cybersex was to real sex. She lay for an hour idly nipping her nipples and pleasuring her clitoris.
Suddenly she remembered the honey trap, the notion strong enough to draw her out of bed and to her stepfather’s door. Sure enough the panties were gone. George’s heightened snoring emanated from the bed and this time he slept for real. Heart thumping against her left breast, Lucy tiptoed over, carefully drawing back the covers, a smile lighting her pretty young features at the discovery of her stepfather cradling the panties. A dark semen stain coated the crotch, supplementing hers. “Oh daddy,” she breathed.
Her throat too dry, head too hot with rising fever to even contemplate repeating the earlier charade, Lucy backed away. Holed up in bed once more, a gentle breeze from the open window ran its spindly fingers through her long blonde hair and lightly caressed her neck as she stroked herself to orgasm.
At some point, reality began to blur and a dream intervened. It must have been a dream for it was very wicked indeed, way beyond that which her waking brain was able to concoct. They were at the beach, the three of them, cocooned within their own windbreak. Lucy was stretched out naked on a towel, knees and shoulders raised as Josh vacuumed his lips to hers, their tongues dancing frenziedly. The passion in the embrace was overwhelming, enhanced when he rolled her nipples in turn between thumb and forefinger, causing Lucy to moan into his mouth. At the same time, George had his head pressed between her legs. Stubble chafed her thighs as her stepfather’s tongue found her clit. His lips were stained with her juices as her body writhed.
Between them, the two men in her life continued to pleasure Lucy, swapping places so that George’s cock pressed her lips and Josh prepared to press his kartal escort into her virgin pussy. “Yes,” she moaned in her sleep, the dream so vivid it was more real than real. “Yessssss,” she reiterated, a slave to the whim of these two insistent men.
All of a sudden Lucy became aware of a weight on her tummy, the scent of alcohol laced breath on her face. It took a few moments to comprehend, the dream still lingering like a clearing mist. A hard cock was pressing against her cunt – for real. Josh was in her bed, his hands moulding her breasts as he tried to penetrate her labia. It felt good, oh so good and Lucy relaxed, allowing the head of his penis to nestle snugly at her entrance before reality intervened. “Josh, no,” she pleaded, the words muffled as his face engulfed hers, his tongue buried deep in her mouth. “Mmmph, no Josh,” she begged.
Josh retracted, freeing her lips, his cock tip still in place, ready to drilled deep into that wet virgin snatch. “Not here, not now,” she protested. “Anything but that…please…”
The disappointment was evident, but Josh acceded to his stepsister’s wish, scrambling off to lay beside her on his back, cock like a flagpole in the moonlight, breath heavier than a marathon runner’s. Lucy turned onto her side, stroking the fine mesh of hairs on his chest. She knew exactly what she wanted to do right now and, upon reflection, Josh craved it too. He’d slept with half a dozen girls up to now, none of whom…
He gasped as Lucy’s mouth descended, her blonde locks brushing his belly. Only the second blowjob she’d ever given, the first earlier that day on her ‘unsuspecting’ stepfather, the experience had at least given her an insight into the male appendage. Not only that, the pleasure it conveyed upon another very nearly brought an orgasm in itself. An unselfish lover, giving head was going to be Lucy’s forte, she suspected.
Concentrating on the nicely engorged purple mushroom head, Lucy’s tongue made a beeline for each and every sensitive area: the eye at the top, around the crown and at the back where the tip joined the shaft. Josh groaned in delight, yet realising there would be little time to savour the act: she was just too damn good, a natural. Already he could feel the onset of orgasm. As her head bobbed up and down, Lucy’s lips and tongue cushioned the rock hard cock as it jerked in her mouth and brought Josh to the verge. “Oh God,” he moaned.
Lucy wasn’t sure she wanted him to cum in her mouth and thoughtfully Josh withdrew. Lying back, Lucy stared into his slanted eyes as Josh straddled her belly, wanking down into her tits. The orgasm was intense, cum flinging from the eye and sploshing her right boob. He milked every last drop into her cleavage before shifting position and pushing his head between her legs. His hot breath on her clit, teeth drawing out the clit from its hood, drove Lucy wild. Six long lashes of the hot tongue and Lucy came hard on his lips.
The pair lay side to side, breath asthmatic. Dipping a finger into the pool at her cleavage, Lucy tasted tentatively, lips smacking. Mmmm, not bad she thought, before reaching across for a tissue to clean up the excess. Josh kissed her on the forehead before creeping away. Once her head had stopped swimming, the impending fever kicked back in, causing a loud cough to be ejected from her lips, throat burning red.
From his room, George heard the cough. It sounded as if Lucy was going down with the same thing as he, the poor little lamb. With his own symptoms seemingly on the wane, George would nonetheless be calling in sick again tomorrow morning. Well, his little girl needed all the TLC a loving father could offer…
Chapter 4 anyone? Keep those votes and critiques coming.