Archive name: My Kid Sister.HTM (M/F, Cheat,
Voyeur, M/FF)
Authors name: Paula Wilson
([email protected])
Story title: My Kid Sister
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This work is copyrighted to the author and
the Unfaithful Wife Organisation © 2003.
Please don't remove the author information or make any changes to this
story. All rights reserved. Thank you
for your consideration.
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Authors
Note: I have always wondered how to write a story about one man’s power over
two women and how far that power would enable him to dominate him; this is my
first attempt at such a story. It’s also slightly kinky as the two women have a
strong, almost family bond. I have never understood how siblings can fancy each
other. I like and maybe love my sisters, but no way do I even want to see them
screwing, let alone join in and as for touching them, excuse me but I feel
sick.
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Becki
is my kid sister, well not exactly my sister, but that’s how we see ourselves.
I am five years the elder and was all of eight when my parents brought a
three-year-old Becki home from the orphanage.
From then on Becki and I acting like regular siblings, we played
together, fell out, rowed, and made up, the usual things. As I was the elder I
started dating and was already engaged to Brian before Becki really became
‘active’.
Soon after that we started to go our separate ways. I suppose the genes
we didn’t share started to kick in. Becki was the wilder, her tastes in men
weren’t the same as mine and pretty soon she moved out.
I married Brian and we raised two boys before Becki came back into my
life. I mean, it wasn’t that we hadn’t kept in touch, but mostly by mail,
telephone and more recently by e-mail.
She’d been a bridesmaid at my wedding but that and the boys christenings
had been the last time I’d seen her. So when her latest e-mail asked if she and
somebody called Cliff could visit it was more than a little surprising.
Still she was the nearest thing I had to family other than Brian and the
boys, so, of course I said yes.
Brian, who knew Becki only from our courting days, always went along
with my plans. He might have been a mega successful lawyer, but where the house
and family were concerned then he always deferred to my judgement.
“They could have the guest house, if you’re uncomfortable about her
bringing a complete stranger into the house.” I had suggested and Brian had
agreed. I knew him well enough to read the signs and although he wouldn’t say
anything I knew he was unhappy about a complete stranger like Cliff having
unrestricted access to the house.
I told Becki all this in my e-mail to her. I did wonder if she’d take
exception to the guesthouse bit, but her reply claimed that they’d be glad of
the privacy.
It was strange to see Becki after so long, my youngest, Kenny, was almost
four, so it had to be almost as long since we’d been together.
I should say that Becki and I might be ‘sisters’, but we don’t look like
kin. I am slender, almost willowy with red to auburn hair and green grey eyes. Becki
might almost be your typical Californian blonde, all curve and nubile
blondness.
We met, hugged, looked each other up and down and then hugged again. It
was good to see her again.
“This is Cliff.” Becki explained, gesturing to her partner. “Cliff, this
is Rhonda, the nearest thing I have to family, hell, she’s better than family.”
“Hi!” He offered me his hand and we shook. He was gorgeous, tall, well
build, maybe the wrong side of forty. He has the most gorgeous blue eyes, deep
and calm. I could have fallen for him myself, but he was Becki’s and I was
still in love with Brian.
We chatted, exchanged reminisces, drank wine and finally separated for
bed. Brian was up state on an important case and the boys were at his parents.
I had never held with keeping children tied to their mother. So I had the big
house to myself whilst Becki and Cliff stayed in the guest house.
The phone call came about mid morning. I was slumming around, wondering
how long I should leave it before I called in on Becki. The phone call answered
that question.
It was Becki, a slightly breathless Becki. “Hi, want to join us?” She
almost grunted.
“Be there in five minutes.” I replied.
“Fine.” The phone clicked dead.
It took the better part of ten minutes as I decided to change and then
use the bathroom. The door to the guesthouse was open when I arrived. Still I’m
no gatecrasher, and even if it was my property Becki and Cliff deserved their
privacy.
I called out. “Hello, it’s me.” I have always thought that just saying
me is stupid as everyone is a me.
“Come in.” Cliff called.
I should explain that the guesthouse has only one real level, the ground
floor, then an staircase to an open area to the only bedroom and bathroom. The
bedroom overlooks the ground floor, it’s a kind of seventies thing, but one I
have always resisted changing.
I had expected to find them on the ground floor but was wrong. A very
naked Becki was leaning over the balcony rail and by her grunts and the
presence of Cliff right behind her even an idiot would have guessed what they
were doing.
I spun on my heels and looked out over the picture window. “I sorry.” I spluttered. “I didn’t mean to burst in like
this.” I could still see them; the picture window replayed their reflection.
The only way to escape seeing them was to either stand there with my eyes
closed or to walk out.
I had expected that my arrival would have broken them up in a mutually
embarrassed moment. It didn’t, they didn’t, and they just kept on doing it! I could
even hear the sounds; those sex sounds that you hope the closed door will keep
away from the kid’s ears.
“I’ll go.” I said and made for the door.
“Join us.” Cliff called after me.
“What?”
“Come up stairs and join us?” Cliff repeated.
I stopped, had I heard him right, perhaps the sex sounds and Becki’s
moans had distracted me.
“Ask her, Becki.” Cliff almost ordered.
“Join us, please!” Becki said and then cried out. I knew that sound, it
was one I did when my climax was nearing. I couldn’t help myself. I turned
round just as Becki’s cry became a scream. I had seen Becki do many things, but
never climax.
Cliff never broke his stride, if you’ll forgive my crudeness. Becki
might have climaxed but it was obvious that he hadn’t. Brian was strictly a one
shot man; it was something that had never been bothered me. It was simply a
fact in our relationship. Brian was caring, loving and always considerate but a
stud he wasn’t.
Becki groaned and hung her head. Cliff grinned at me and gestured me to
join them.
“I can’t.” I protested and then I added. “I won’t join in.” What was I
saying?
“Just watch then.” Cliff answered. “Becki doesn’t mind, do you?”
“No!” Becki grunted.
“Come on.” Cliff urged.
I took one unsteady step towards them. I could hear the sex sounds, the
slap, slap sound of a man entering a woman. It should
have sounded obscene, but it wasn’t. I felt my nipples tingle.
I took another step and then another until I was at the bottom of the
stairs. I could almost see them and I knew what they were doing, how
they were doing it. I wasn’t naïve.
“Come up.” Cliff gestured towards me. Becki was almost out of it; she
was leaning back against him, her hands on the balcony and with her head slumped
between her arms.
I moved up the stairs, they are quite steep, almost like a ladder and
legs felt like lead. As my head reached the same level as the bed I could see
them. I mean I could see his cock and also see how it was sliding into Becki.
I stopped and just gaped. I had never seen a couple having sex, not even
in a porn movie. Brian and I didn’t believe in that sort of thing so to say I
was breaking new ground was an understatement.
I think that I just stood there with my mouth open. The
proverbial hick from the sticks. Still, even though my senses were
racing, I started to take in details.
Obvious things like they were both naked, that Becki’s nipples were
hard, that there was sheen of sweat on both their bodies.
“Come up.” Cliff gasped.
I still hesitated, as if joining them on the balcony was actually
invading their privacy. I mean what was I doing already?
On my slightly hollow legs I made it onto the balcony and then collapsed
onto the only seat in the room. It placed me almost behind Cliff but at enough
of an angle that I could see everything.
Cliff half turned towards me. “Join us.” He never missed a beat as he
looked at me.
Finally everything tumbled into place. He wanted, they wanted, me to
join them on the bed, to become part of their sex. I just shook my head.
Cliff inclined his head and asked once more. He wasn’t demanding, just
insistent. I shook my head again; my mouth was so dry that I couldn’t trust
myself to speak.
“Alright, this time you can watch.” He answered finally.
This time! My head whirled at that suggestion, but I stayed for despite
myself I was becoming affected. It wasn’t just that my nipples tingled. I knew
that I was moist and getting damper by the minute. I’d have never ever imagined
that I could have become stimulated watching other people, especially a woman I
regarded as my sister, but I was, an unfortunately Cliff knew.
“I always get hard watching Becki with someone else.” He said almost
conversationally. “Quite a turn on isn’t it?”
So god forgives me. I nodded. It was such a natural reaction that I
didn’t think, I just nodded. I could see Cliff’s dick as it entered Becki, the
way it drove into her, leaving her sex open and very wet. There was literally a
slurp as he withdrew, and then that was exactly what he did, pull right out so
that I saw the full extent of his penis, hard and glistening with Becki’s
juices and I saw her open sex.
Did Brian’s dick look like that after it been inside me and did my pussy
look like that, so open?
“Want to touch?” Cliff asked. He offered himself towards me and then
pointed to Becki’s exposed and open sex.
I was tempted. I really was tempted. It shames me to admit the fact but
I was hot and wanted to touch him. I also felt the need to touch Becki, to see
if hers felt like mine.
For the first time Becki looked towards me, her eyes were glazed and her
jaw slack, but it was still Becki when she spoke. “Come on Cat (short for
Catherine). Just touch, please.”
I had to slide off the chair and onto my knees, but I did it. I even crawled a pace or two until I was at the edge of the low
bed. The smell of sex was very strong, in the large open plan of the guesthouse
the smell had pretty much dissipated, but this close there was no escape.
Cliff
literally hauled Becki nearer to me, so near that I could make out her bikini
line and where she shaved. I was nearer to Becki’s sex than I had ever been to
mine.
“Touch
her.” Cliff urged. “Touch me.” He added and pushed his cock towards me.
I looked at Becki’s gaping sex and then towards Cliff’s erection. Common
sense said walk away, reject their ideas, but common sense wasn’t a factor that
day. I reached out and touched Cliff’s dick. It was preferable to touching
another woman’s sex.
I don’t know what I expected. I’d handled Brian’s dick often enough, but
it had been years since I’d seen another man’s cock. Cliff’s wasn’t huge, or
thick, but it was rock hard and hot and sticky, sticky with Becki’s secretions.
Cliff let go a long, slow groan and then grinned. “Fancy feeling that
anywhere else?” He suggested crudely.
“No!” I let go and moved back.
“What about Becki?” Cliff taunted. “Here, give me your hand, no, the
other one.” He took my lifeless left hand and simply pressed it against Becki’s
sex.
I shuddered, this was something I’d never dreamed of doing, touching
another woman had never figured in my mild fantasies. Becki cries out and
wriggles back against the palm of my hand.
“Not so difficult?” laughed Cliff. “Push a finger inside her, Becki loves
that.”
Something snaps. I am on my feet and down the stairs before either Cliff
or Becki has a chance to move or say anything. I am out of the guesthouse and
across the patio and into the safety of the main house without pausing to look
back.
Then and only then I pause for breath and to collect my scattered and
disturbed thoughts. I have already done more than I would have ever thought
possible. I look out across the deserted patio, expecting to see them in
pursuit. There is nothing, perhaps they have returned to their sex, most
probably amused at my reaction.
Well let them laugh. I know where my loyalties lie. I am a happily
married wife and mother and that means more than a cheap fuck. I go to wash my
hands, conscious that they are covered with their goo. What was it, the right
hand touched his cock and the left hand touched Becki’s pussy? Yes, that was
right.
So help me but I lift my fingers to my nose and smell them, smell first
Cliff’s cock with his scent mingled with Becki’s and then Becki’s. I know what
a woman smells like, least ways, what I smell like and Becki is different. I
can’t say how, but she smells different.
Then sanity returns and I wash my hands. I try not to think about the incident
in the guesthouse, but replaying the scenes and words over and over again. Each
time the images cause me to moisten. I want to touch myself, but that is
something I had never done. The words disturb me the most.
“I always get hard watching Becki with someone else.” Cliff had said. I
replay the words over and over again and gradually a set of images accompanies
them, images of Becki having sex with Cliff watching. I get even wetter with
those images buzzing around my head.
There has to be a meeting. After what has happened we have to meet and
sort things out. I am dreading it and yet know that it must happen and so about
two hours later a sheepish looking Becki is in the lounge.
I don’t know what to say or even how to start the conversation and yet I
feel that I have to.
“Where’s Cliff?” I ask.
“Shopping, I sent him out for some booze.” Becki is wearing a halter-top
and short skirt; she has her legs drawn up beneath her.
“We have plenty.”
“I pay my way.” Becki grins then goes serious. “Did we shock you?"
“Of course!”
I explode.
“Cliff likes to put on a show.” Becki smiles.
I am caught. It isn’t something that I like to admit but I am caught.
The images return and now I imagine Becki is naked and sitting opposite me.
“Where did you meet?” I ask softly. I have an almost irresistible urge
to touch myself there, between my legs. I fight it but I almost lose.
“The usual place at a party. We hit it
off straight away.” She smiled secretly.
“When was this?” I ask.
“Six months ago. Cliff’s a writer, the top shelf sort.” She smiled again.
“I moved in with him after only a couple of weeks and since then things have
been pretty wild.”
“He writes pornography?” I gasped.
“Sure, and scripts for the movies, though mostly its fuck, fuck and then
fuck again. Still that takes imagination.”
I had a revelation. “You, you perform in those?” I gasp.
“I’m usually the inspiration.” Becki laughed softy. “Cliff mostly tries
his ideas out on me.” She grinned. “It’s a hell of a lot more fun than typing
for a living.”
“So this morning…”
“Cliff says there’s a great story there with lots of variations,
sisters, real sisters, best friends, lots and lots he can work on. He just
needs one more thing to enable him to complete the story line.”
“What?” I felt the blood drain from my face.
“He wants you, Cat; he wants you to join in.”
I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. I had lost the power of speech. I just
looked at Becki and knew that she wasn’t joking and that she would let me join
them.
“Cliff wants me.” I said eventually but in a tiny, tiny voice.
“We both want you.” Becki corrected.
I started to hyperventilate. It was bad enough to think of Cliff wanting
me for sex, but Becki was my sister, or the nearest thing I’d ever have to one.
It was incest or something dam close to it.
“It’s all wrong.” I manage to gasp.
“Think about it.” Becki gets to her feet. “I’ll just warn you that Cliff
is very determined and persistent.”
She left me then, left me to stew on the most incredible proposition I
had ever had. There was no way that I even consider doing anything like Becki
was proposing. No way.
I saw Cliff return, he waved in my direction. I thought the gesture was
for me to join them but I just ignored it. I carried on as I always did, clean
through the house, set the washing machine running; prepare the evening meal
(not hard for one). I was working in the kitchen with the radio tuned to a
local jazz station (I don’t especially like jazz but it makes great background
sound) and so I never heard Cliff enter or knew how long he’d stood there until
his hands closed about my waist.
“Hey!” I squealed and tried to
move to one side. Instinctively my hands grabbed my assailants wrists (I didn’t
know it was Cliff yet) and tried to escape.
“Easy, calm down!” Cliff’s voice did nothing of the sort. I twisted and
wriggled and finally broke away.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I snarled.
“Relax Rhonda, I didn’t mean to startle you.” He is making those
placatory gestures with his hands.
“Well you bloody well did.” I rub my hands down my skirt, trying to
smooth it back into place, a meaningless gesture as my clothing hadn’t been
disturbed.
“Sorry, no offence was intended.”
I was beginning to calm down. “Alright … what did you really want?”
“You, I came for you.” The gorgeous eyes have never left me and I find
that I just can’t pull myself away.
“I’m not available.” I manage to whisper. I’m not exactly panicking but
I didn’t want him any closer.
“Everyone’s available; you just have to have the right trigger.”
I wonder what the hell he’s talking about. Trigger? I’m not a pistol. I
don’t say anything, if I’m lucky he’ll take my silence as rejection and leave.
“You look gorgeous, I thought so from the first moment that I sure you.”
He continues. He’s smooth, obvious but smooth. I’m not gorgeous and I’m not
plain and I’m not stupid. I’m not gonna fall for such an old line. He takes a
step closer, I hadn’t been expecting that, I should have but he takes me by
surprise.
One moment he just mouthing platitudes and the next his arm is around my
waist and pulling me closer.
“We mustn’t …” I begin just before he kisses me. He does that well, all
to well. I mean if he wasn’t so dam good it would be easier to fight him. He
holds my head in his hands, sweeping my hair back so that his fingers are
stroking the lodes of my ears and that sensitive spot just behind them and all
the time he’s still kissing me. It just isn’t fair, not bloody fair.
I try not to
respond, to offer him any encouragement. I try to just stand there, hoping that
he’ll finally take my apparent apathy as a rejection. I said try, he kisses so
well, and his fingers are so educated, as if by magic he finds that spot on my
neck, the one that builds goosebumps and makes my tummy tremble.
I grumble deep
in my throat, so low and gentle that I barely hear it myself but Cliff does,
it’s all the encouragement he needs. The hand leaves my neck and cups my
breast. I jump, kissing is one thing, but touching my breasts is almost a
violation of my body.
“Nice.” He
breathes, finally breaking off from kissing me; those gorgeous eyes seem to be
feasting on me and his hands strokes each breast, once more cupping them as if
trying to guess their weight or size. “You have great boobs.”
“And you are
full of bullshit.” I say, suddenly finding the strength to speak.
Cliff stares at
me, smiles a perfect white smile and then laughs. “You are ssoooo right, but if
I’d have said that you are a scrawny
bitch with the tits of a schoolgirl how would you have liked that, what do
you prefer?” He kisses me again and I kiss him back before realising what I
doing and pull away. “Well? What’s the preference, bullshit or….”
“I’m not
scrawny and my … my breasts are bigger than you think.” I snap and then
instantly feel myself colour. I was falling under his spell and he dam well
knew it.
“I like fire in
my women.” He laughs, his voice is low, husky and filled with desire, which is
really to polite a word to describe the sound.
“I am not your woman.”
I retort, the colours still in my face.
“I know, I
know, you’re a happily married woman with a loving husband and young family.”
He says, it could have come out all sarcastic and nasty, but it doesn’t. Cliff
makes it sound so natural and reasonable that I have to concur. So I nod my
head in agreement. “It still doesn’t alter the fact that you want me, does it?”
It’s that
bullshit approach again but it’s followed by another kiss. I’m not even trying
to avoid him now and when he strokes my boobs again I can’t disguise how I
feel. My skirt and top are made of soft cotton and they cling to the contours
of my body, my brassier is nothing more than a couple of soft cups held
together with fabric, its there for comfort and not to lift and shape, so through
all this soft and thin material my nipples rise and are obvious.
“Ohhhh!” I
can’t help myself, especially when he just
presses his palm against my boobs. He doesn’t stop his assault; the kisses
deepen as does the pressure on my boobs. Finally I hook my arms up around his
neck. It’s my signal that the victory is his.
“This way.”
Cliff leads me into the lounge, there overlooking the pool and protected from
the elements by the sliding French windows is a huge off white leather couch.
It’s Brian’s pride and joy, he just loves evenings there after the boys are in
bed, just the two of us and a bottle of wine, sometimes we fuck and sometimes
we just cuddle, now Cliff leads me there.
He lays me
down, resting my head on the couch arm. I expect him to join me, hell, I want
him to join me, instead he drops to his knee’s and I realise that’s he’s
kneeling between my half open legs. I know what he’s planning and my legs just
open; it’s not an intentional act, pure instinct.
He lifts my
skirt, leaving it bunched about my waist. I can smell myself, the hot almost fishy smell I give off when I’m
excited. Brian says that my scent is
the strongest he’s ever known (not that the notches on his bedpost are that
many) but I know what he means, on occasions I can pong!
I’m not going
to apologise (excuse the smell, its just that I’m horny and hot), if Cliff
wants me then he’s going to have to endure.
He looks up and
I smile and then I open my legs just a little bit wider, kinda a sign of
encouragement, not that Cliff needs any real encouragement. I try to remember
which panties I’m wearing. I know they won’t be one of my sexier pairs, these
will be workaday specials, but then Cliff is only interested in what’s behind
them.
Cliff’s head
drops and I stiffen in expectation. I resist, just, the temptation to say
something smartarse and then shudder as I feel his hot breath against my thighs
and then the wet tip of his tongue brushes against my flesh. I jump; literally
my arse is momentarily off the couch.
The tongue
continues its journey, my legs widen seemingly without my involvement and then
he’s there, face to face with my crotch and I can feel, or at least believe I
can feel his hot breath through my panties. I’m wet, not gushing wet, but
stimulated enough to feel how loose I’ve
become.
He could fuck
me now, I’m ready enough, but Cliff is intent on taking his time. He’s
lingering around my gusset, his tongue pressing against the damp fabric, his
lips bear down and I can feel him and
I get a little wetter. I want his
tongue against my clit, I want his
lips against me, and I want to feel
his rough tongue inside me.
He pulls my
pants down, I lift my butt to help him and then lay as crudely as you could
imagine, open to him, and my sex must be glistening and I hope inviting. I
haven’t felt this dirty, I know I
haven’t, I feel crude as in suggest something and we’ll try it. Crude, he has
had that affect on me.
I stop thinking
as he begins, his tongue first just touching me, then his lips almost sucking
on me before finding my clit and
sucking on it. I bounce, my head rebounds off the arm of the couch and I thrust
my cunt (it’s a dirty word which sums up my feelings), into his face. He starts
to eat me, like he’s never had a meal in months. I can feel his tongue deep
inside me and then rolling around my clit.
It’s too much,
normally I take time reaching an orgasm but I’m heading there in a matter of a
couple of minutes, my head back and that meowing sound I make shattering the
afternoon.
I literally hump
his face as I climax, rubbing against him, almost trying to push his face
inside me.
Cliff has his
hands on my hips and I know that he’s
holding his face against me and that it’s deliberate as he drinks down my
orgasmal fluids.
He leaves me.
I just lie
there whilst my scattered senses regroup. Slowly as sensibilities return I find
my knickers and pull then back on, then on unsteady legs I make my way back
into the kitchen. I can’t explain why I chose that room but by chance I
discover Cliff about to pick up a tray of drinks.
“Oh! I just
made you a drink, just orange juice and lemonade. I’m thirsty if you’re not.”
He steers me
back towards the couch and silently I sit down again, accepting the tumbler
into my still shaking hand. I find that I can’t look him in the face and stare
down at the floor. I have been unfaithful, even if Cliff hasn’t actually fucked
me; he’s seen me, touched me and brought me to a climax. I start to wonder how
I’ll ever be able to look Brian in the face again, much less sleep with him.
“Why so glum?”
He asks.
I tell him,
it’s a disjointed collection of half sentences, garbled and at times probably
incomprehensible. I don’t cry, although it would be the easy thing to do. I
finish with a crass remark about him being my sister’s partner.
“She knows the
rules.” Cliff answers in a calm voice, like he’s been here before. “Becki told
you that I don’t take a refusal as absolute and before you protest, tell me
that wasn’t a real orgasm.”
Now that hit home. All I could manage was a
weak smile. “So what now?” I finally asked. “Am I another notch on your bed
head?”
He chuckled.
“If I had a count then right now you wouldn’t figure, what we just did wasn’t
the real thing.”
I shuddered.
“What do you mean?”
He shrugged.
“As I see it Brian? Brian won’t be home tonight and you have a great big bed,
much to big for one, so I figure..”
“No!” I
squeaked.
“So I figured
we could spend some time getting really well acquainted and then if you wanted
Becki to join us, well I’m open to a threesome.”
End of part
one.