KISSING KELLY

Maybe this would have all worked out differently if my mother had died or if my dad were a tragic, lonely figure. But they divorced when I was fifteen, fairly amicably, though there were the usual shouting matches in the year leading up to and then the year during the split. I guess my parents were around forty years old at the time. When mom left she moved up to Pasadena first to live with her sister, my aunt, and then later on she moved to Santa Monica. It was open custody, so I saw her fairly often, though I ended up living with my dad, because of his job.

To be totally honest, yeah, the divorce sucked, but at age 16 I was way too busy dealing with my hormones and learning about the best places to park a car so nobody would come looking when the windows fogged up. I was dating two girls at the time, Tina and Kelly, and one of them would always have a reason for me to cut class, if you follow me. To my sex-drenched brain (which I was convinced had migrated permanently to my cock during this time), I was more curious about how I might persuade both of them to try a threesome than about how my family was going to survive. Terrible, but true. I won't say I felt abandoned by my parents but I did have my first inkling in those days that the adults in my life were just as bad at figuring out what to do with themselves as I was.

Anyway, I'm not a total pig. I never actually asked the girls about the threesome (besides, Tina moved to San Bernadino in my junior year).

In my senior year, when I turned 18, my dad started dating this woman who was very different from the women he'd brought home before. Her name, coincidentally, was Kelly, and she was amazing. She was a knockout, first of all, a beautiful blonde of about medium height, a bright smile that stood out, not only against her California tan but in any room she walked into. She was easy-going, not the pressure cooker my dad was (or the busy Type A my mom was), and loved to laugh. She was the first of my dad's girlfriends I actually liked to listen to, and I didn't come up with reasons to bail when they asked me to stay home for dinner.

Kelly was a hygienist and part-time yoga instructor, which could have predicted the downfall. As soon as she and my dad started getting more serious (about partway through the school year), she would stay the night, and I would be treated, on those mornings, to Kelly in the living room doing her exercises in nothing but her skin tight yoga shorts and sports bra. Now, Kelly was 28, and her abdominals looked like they'd been cut with soft glass, but her ass on those mornings, with the sun glinting off the thin fabric of her shorts, was a round, plump confection. It was sweet, is what I mean to say. No, morning wood did not make these yoga routines any easier to sit through. I'd spill my cornflakes, I'd trip over my robe (note, I never started wearing a robe until Kelly started staying the night), I'd do my damnedest not to stare. Of course she was also polite enough to ask if I wanted to watch the TV, and if I wanted her to move. Except...not too polite.

How do I put this? The whole time she and my father were dating, she never really fell over herself trying to impress me. I guess that's the best way to say it. Most women who my father had dated (in the beginning, closer to my mom's age) had gone out of their way to show an interest in my schoolwork or water polo, or try to initiate conversation. Kelly didn't do that. Again, she was polite, she was nice, but she didn't concern herself with things she didn't really want to know, or small talk she didn't really want to have. Maybe it was because we were closer in age.

So, when I say "not too polite," when I'd come downstairs at the crack of dawn to wolf down breakfast before water polo practice, and Kelly would be there, a half head shorter than me with her soft tits bound in the tight black sports bra, her chest jutting out into space and one long, lithe leg sticking straight out towards the sun and the barest of light sneaking between the crack of her ass and the tiny beads of perspiration highlighting her contours, upper lip, forehead and calves, I mean that when she said, "Do you want to watch TV?" there was always the lingering hint of sarcasm in those words. She usually didn't say much more than that, but the question was never straightforward, ever. It was a subtle, barely there accusation, a hint, a ghost of a tease, as if she were asking, "Can you think of something better to watch than me right now?"

Those mornings I tried to eat my breakfast, get my shorts on and get the hell out of there before I did something stupid.

* * *

I will say that it was extremely satisfying to have a girlfriend named Kelly at the time. We'd graduated from dating semi-exclusively to full on relationship status by then, but we both knew we probably wouldn't see much of each other after that. So we had fun when we could. It was a little more difficult to manage when we were face to face, but when she went down on me I fantasized about my dad's girlfriend bending down in one of those downward facing dog stretches and swallowing my cock. I stroked her hair and called her "Kelly," all the time thinking of someone else. "Kelly, don't stop," I'd say. "I'm gonna cum." And Kelly, like a champ, would let me cum in her mouth. She always spat it out, but at least she let me slide my shaft back in until I'd finished.

Near the end of senior year, we did break up finally. Kelly (my Kelly) had heard that I'd been sleeping around, which wasn't totally true. Before we were official I had been seeing other girls, but that was bad enough. So we were done for a month or so when my dad told me he and Kelly were getting married.

This actually threw me at the time. I knew my dad liked Kelly, and I liked Kelly, too. She was fun to be around, when she wasn't driving me crazy with her half naked exercises, but I never thought she was the marriage type. I had, much to my displeasure, heard them from time to time in the bedroom, and the woman did sound like she enjoyed a good time. I thought that was all my dad was with her for. But no, the old man was in love, or so he said.

Truth be told, I'll say that my father, while a good man, a good provider, and a decent father, is not the most passionate guy. When he says he's in love, I take that to mean that he's decided who he's reserving that aspect of his life for. When I couldn't block out the sounds of them through the bedroom wall, it was always Kelly doing the talking, for instance. Conversely, when my mom and dad would fight, it was always him doing the talking.

So yeah, I was surprised. Not shocked, Kelly was, after all, a great woman, but that was definitely when the divorce really hit home. They got married in a small service, nothing too ostentatious (Kelly had been married once before and didn't want to make any bigger deal about it than my dad), and they were husband and wife by the time I graduated high school.

Like a man in a dream, I helped her move all her stuff from her apartment in Venice to our house. She rented the U-Haul and I drove it and loaded it up. I knew by this point in the year that I'd made it to the local state school, and that was good enough for me because it meant I could live at home and save myself rent. Meanwhile, I could pay my tuition with what I saved from the swim club I worked at. But it did feel weird knowing as I packed all of Kelly's stuff that I'd be living under the same roof as her, at least for another year. And every time I saw that ring on her finger it tripped me out.

Kelly even seemed a little nervous about it. She spoke a lot more openly than she usually did around me, and we got to talking about life post-college, and in college, and all that. It wasn't a bad day, really. And the hot summer sun made both of us pretty sweaty, so we roshamboed for who got to use the shower first.

It was around 4 in the afternoon when we finally got all of her stuff into the house, and I offered to drive the car back. She gave me a tip when I got back, which was sweet, but she still hadn't changed out of her sweaty clothes. She was in a white tank top that was covered with the dirt and dust that comes with any move, but she was wearing a jet black bra underneath. A good thing too, because the tank top was soaked. Between the time that I'd stepped out to return the U-Haul and the time I got back, she'd switched from her low rider jeans to a pair of yoga shorts, but both gave me an unobstructed view of her flat midriff and tiny pucker of bellybutton. She had sweat a trail down into the rim of her bellybutton that now shined under the bright slats of the front windows. When I opened the door she was already padding to me with a beer, and I noticed that she'd kicked off her shoes and socks and was walking barefoot through the house, like she'd lived here for years.

I took the beer gladly. "You know I don't have ID," I said.

She shrugged and sipped at her tea. "Well, I was going to make you some of this but I figured you wouldn't want something hot. Plus, a move-in isn't official until somebody cracks a beer. I figure I can get away with being the cool step-mom if I let you have one." I laughed, and she flashed her wicked smile. "Plus," she said, "it's not like you're not drinking already. I remember graduation."

"Yeah, I don't," I said.

"If you want to make me feel better you could let me teach you some yoga. It'd be good for you, especially if you're still doing water polo. You need to stretch and get rid of toxins."

I shook the beer bottle. "Toxins?"

She hummed into her tea. "Mm-hm. If I can get you doing it I think your dad might finally do it too."

I remembered some conversation about this months ago. "Didn't he go to one of your classes last year?"

She rolled her eyes. "Under great protest. And he hasn't been back since. I want him to live a long, happy life, and a good diet and proper exercise really make the difference. You know that."

I nodded. It wasn't the easiest thing in the world but feeling like shit before and after a match was usually the result of someone running late and having to pick up fast food just for the calories. "I have to admit, it's been a helluva lot more pleasant with you cooking your weird organic meals than before when dad and I were eating frozen lasagna."

Kelly said nothing but arched her eyebrows and nodded into her mug.

"But you gotta be cool with opening dad up to new horizons. It's like trying to find him religion or something."

"Well, that's why you're going to help me," she said. "If I can convince you, I can convince him."

"Getting to the father through the son, eh?" I said. "Well...I'm game, I guess."

"Good," she said. She said it with authority. She took the bottle from my hand and placed it on the table. Then she set her own mug aside and pulled me into the living room. There began one of the most thrilling and excruciating hours of my life.

Kelly knew that I worked out regularly and stretched, so she didn't bother with treating me gently. She knew when I was being reluctant and she was a task master. On the one hand, it was great to have her strong but slender fingers curling over my shoulders and pressing into my back to push me further into the stretches, but, on the other, more painful hand, she didn't treat me like a beginner. I will admit that some of the positions were alright (and when I could I convinced her to show me what she wanted me to do first, which granted me a few choice views of her extraordinarily supple, and sweaty, body) but it was an ordeal.

When it was over we parted to use the showers, me in the one in the hall and she in the one in my dad's bedroom. Or, I guess it was now their mutual bedroom.

This began a new era of closeness between us that lasted all throughout the next year. In the morning, when I woke up at the crack of dawn for work (I scheduled my classes in the later afternoon), Kelly would be there with her yoga mat, kneeling on the floor with her bubble bottom pointed at me. But instead of admiring it from afar I had to kneel down right next to her and do the whole thing in tandem (though I never got all the positions down perfectly; that woman could move in ways I'd never dreamed of).

The funny thing was, we fell into a rhythm, and we seldom spoke those mornings. She would wait for me (on one or three occasions when I didn't wake up in time she'd come into my room and pull me out of bed) and then we'd get into it, and then I'd eat breakfast and she'd take a shower, then I'd head off to the pool and often didn't come home until late. I'm sure the newlyweds appreciated that, as I was more or less gone whenever they'd be awake. I did hear the unmistakable rocking every now and again, but I'd finally found a pair of ear plugs that worked.

* * *

I dated like a mad man that first year of college. I brought a few girls home from time to time, but usually we went to her place, if she lived in the dorms or had an apartment. But I had a problem that only seemed to get worse over time.

Kelly was gorgeous, purposeful, and there, every morning. Every morning we bent and stretched together. I stood next to her and listened to the soft fabric of her clothes slide over her body, in the relative silence of the early morning. I had to bend and stare at her bottom, ignore the way her chest heaved underneath the tight sports bra. It drove me nuts. I still couldn't think of her as my step-mom. It wasn't easier to think of her as my dad's wife, but even then it was still hard to understand that she wasn't for sale, so to speak.

Really, the problem was that I was deeply attracted to Kelly, and our morning routines didn't make that go away. If anything, the fact that we carried on in silence made it worse. I never learned any more about her except for the way she moved. We never had deep conversations about family, or what she thought about my father, or why she had such big, delicious breasts - okay, well, we probably never would have gotten around to that last conversation.

It was never too hard for me to get a date but I was hung up on Kelly. I had dreams where I would see her at the edge of my bed in a towel and I would strip it off and she'd jump on me. I had an even more vivid one where I came to her in the morning and she was doing yoga completely nude. After forcing her to the floor and having my way with her, while she smiled that enigmatic smile, I woke up and had to force myself to remember if it had really happened or not. Unfortunately, it had not.

So I started to scheme.

As I said before, I don't tend to think too far ahead. The opportunity that eventually came along did not come about through any proper forethought or planning, it really just dropped into my lap. And I, being horny enough to risk suicide, snapped it up.

What impelled the decision that I eventually came to was in no small part the result of Kelly's enigmatic impassiveness. She was so straightforward that I always figured that she would immediately lay down the law if she was against something. She could be as hot-tempered as my father - I'd seen it before.

I should probably explain. Near the end of my freshman year of college, I noticed that the weekends were a little off. Usually Kelly allowed Saturday to be a slow day. She was usually at her studio or busying herself with some project or other, but Saturdays she tended to sleep in. My father sometimes slept in as well. But on Saturday morning he took a nice, long shower. First thing in the morning.

And Kelly, from beyond my bedroom wall, always tried to get him to come back to bed...

* * *

I waited at the threshold of the door, my heart thudding in my chest. From around the hallway I could see the first blue streaks of light signal the morning's arrival. I listened closely to the sounds inside the bedroom. I heard shifting and a murmur, then another grumbling sound. It sounded vaguely like an argument, as I'd expected, but a low one, simply a matter of fact one.

I heard the higher, softer sounds of Kelly, then my father, a small tussle, then someone flinging the covers aside and getting up.

I froze. If either one of them caught me naked in the hall there would be a lot of weird explaining to do, and I didn't have the chops to pull it off. But I lucked out. Whoever walked made a circle around the bed, and padded into the bathroom. I heard the light switch. I heard the knob twist. And I heard the shower start. My morning wood was the first thing that slipped through the crack in the door.

The light from the bathroom made a small square of light underneath the doorway. Already a fog of steam was issuing from up top. There, lying face up in the bed, was Kelly. She was staring at the ceiling and shaking her head, not angrily, not sadly, just...disappointed, maybe? It was dark enough that she couldn't see me if she didn't know I was there, but the light shone from the bathroom over the tips of her bare breasts. I held my breath to keep from making noise. I'd never seen Kelly's tits before, and there they were, round and flattened over her chest, jiggling slightly from the movement of her head. They had a fluidity to them that her sports bra had pushed nicely into shape, but unbound they flowed over her chest like pale hershey kisses. The nipples were a bright pink even in the half light.

I crouched at the doorway, expecting her to see me and scream at any second. But she closed her eyes, her forehead still creased by her frown. I made my move.

I prowled towards the bed like a jungle cat, and that, I decided was exactly how I would handle this situation. I slunk towards the foot of the bed, and gently, ever so gently, pulled the sheets out from where they'd been tucked under the mattress. Then, pausing just long enough to make sure I hadn't disturbed her, I slipped the sheet out from the bed and crawled under it, onto the mattress, between the bare legs of my father's wife.

The steady hiss of the shower was a constant in my ears. I listened to it with the deathly fear of one who knows his life is moments away from ending. My erection had all but disappeared from that fear, but I could feel it swell from what I laid my eyes on. Kelly had already drifted back to sleep. That was obvious from the way she did not stir as my weight shifted the bed. Underneath the sheet I set my knees down gently, one between her ankles, the other down by her knee. Kelly wasn't wearing anything at all, and her bare body was under the covers with me.

I marveled at the cut contours of her calves, at the smallness of her feet and the perfect smoothness of each petite toe. I gazed upward, crossing her knees, moving up towards her muscular thighs, crawling forward as I did so. My penis grazed the inside of her calf and she stirred gently. I froze. But then, I decided, I'd come this far. I moved up further, trying to stay low underneath the sheet, my penis making a small wet trail up her leg. Then I stopped as I came to the neat apex of her mound.

Kelly had shaved her pubic hair into a clean strip. It made sense. She wore such form-fitting bikinis that she couldn't have any hairs out of place, but that dark rectangular thatch immediately made this whole crazy venture worth it. The shower was still going, but I would have gone for it even if it hadn't. After so long, I realized this might be my first, last and only chance to taste what I'd been craving for almost two years. I lowered my mouth towards Kelly's vagina and cupped my lips over her thick vulva. It tasted of sweat, but it was unmistakably her sweat, and I opened my mouth and let my tongue run up the length of her slit. She was definitely asleep for that first lick. I'm not sure about the second.Throwing care out the window, I bent over the soft skin of her mound and lower belly and wedged my fingers into the space between her thighs. In sleep, or returning from sleep, that gentle nudge was enough to make her open her legs. I lifted my knee over her own and made a place for myself between her legs. I got down on my stomach and started to lick her with hunger, like a tiger lapping at a running stream. With every lick I felt her vagina open to me, open to the insistence of my tongue muscle. I pushed my nose farther into her until it rolled over her clitoris. And Kelly was definitely awake now. She let out a soft sigh, a sound I'd never heard her make, and pushed her ass lower into the mattress, simultaneously raising her pussy and her knees up. With one foot she rubbed the back of my ass and with her other calf she rubbed it encouragingly against my back.

A hand snaked down her stomach and found my hair. It tried to pull me up but I stayed exactly where I was. I opened my mouth wider and pushed my tongue between her pussy lips.

"Rrm," she said above the sheets, "stop that... Jim, I'm still mad at you." I pulled one hand from off her ass and reached up to cup one of her big, beautiful, gelatinous breasts. It pooled in my hand and I squeezed the nipple against my palm. Kelly ground her pussy harder into my face and turned towards her side. Her hand fell over mine and she squeezed it. "Nuh uh," she grumbled. "Just because you've suddenly developed a taste for my pussy doesn't mean I'll let y-ymmmm...." She shoved her pussy even harder into my mouth. The outer lips knocked against my teeth. I didn't mind. I swallowed the saliva in my mouth and gave her pussy a big, wet kiss.

"Ah-ah," Kelly teased. "Who taught you that?" She pushed her vagina even harder into my face. I suddenly realized she was trying to force me to give it up, but her legs and belly were writhing uncontrollably; she couldn't have known how sweet it felt to taste this woman after so long, so many mornings tracing her thighs up into her shorts, her breasts beneath her armpits. "You..." she huffed, "you big liar...you said...you didn't...ahn...ahh..." I'd never heard her this way. She sounded vulnerable, almost upset. But she was also getting louder. The shower still pounded outside but one more outburst like that...

"Get up here," she finally said. She tapped my head. "Get up here and fuck me already-" It was still dark outside. There was barely any light underneath the covers but was there enough to hide my face? I didn't have long to wonder; Kelly threw the covers off my body just as I was rising up from her soaking pussy.

Kelly's expression went from single-minded lust, even anger, to one of sudden, wide-eyed surprise. Let me explain the picture. Kelly was laid flat on the bed, her nipples pointed up at me from their stiff, pink areolas, her knee bent up, the other open wide beneath me (literally bow-legged beneath me), her blonde hair bed-matted from tousling against the pillow, her hand pressed into the mattress, waiting to be penetrated, her other arm draped suddenly loosely over the sheet, her flat stomach expanding and shaking now. My mouth was smeared with the clear residue of her eager pussy. I was bent over her, my dick hard as it could be. She didn't say a word. She stared at me, almost open-mouthed, suddenly glancing at the door of the bathroom, then glancing back at me, then down at my cock. Inside me, my heart pounded. The blood coursing through my veins made my penis throb.

The moment felt like a lifetime. I'll never forget the cold, knowing look on her face.

Kelly slid, slowly, down onto her back, dropped the sheet, and reached up. The light from the bathroom made her tan skin glow as her arm extended. Her fingers outstretched, she softly dragged her fingertips, one by one, over the swollen head of my cock. I tried not to groan too loudly. She didn't meet my eyes; she kept her gaze trained on my twitching penis; she let its ruddy red skin slide under the joints of her fingers; she did it again, and a second time, as if she were playing with it. She let it roll under her fingers again and I finally grunted, pushing it forward.

Kelly gripped my cock firmly, her fingers curling around the shaft. She held me in place.

The reality of that feeling, of her soft hand wrapped around the skin of my cock, was better than any dream or fantasy I'd coveted. Desperately, I pushed my penis through her fingers, imagining I was already inside her. She let it slide against the open spaces between her knuckles but she didn't let go. She finally took her eyes off of it and looked me dead in the eye. She shook her head slowly. But she began to jerk me off.

Kelly raised her right leg out from under the sheet, and slid it over the covers. I watched her ease into the pillow, watched her hair frame her damp forehead, her body hot from the summer morning, watched the way her lower lip curled under her teeth as she glanced from my penis to my face. She rubbed me faster. My penis moistened from the clamminess of her hand and the precum already dribbling from my tip, and the sound of her stroking me, my step-mother masturbating me, was suddenly audible over the roaring of the shower in the next room. She glanced at the bathroom door. I looked down at Kelly's vagina, at the strip of pubic hair that still glistened from my saliva and, I saw, more than that. Her hips gently pushed down into the mattress, then, just as slowly, bent up towards the air - more precisely, bent up towards the air I filled with my dangling balls. They whipped back and forth as she stroked me faster. I ground my pelvis against her knuckles, always pushing closer, closer to her.

Our eyes were both staring at my cock when the drips of precum stained the sheets at the mouth of her pussy. Kelly was trying to jerk me to completion, trying to keep me at bay. I'd had enough.

I reached out and placed my hand on her fat breast. Already losing her breath at the exertion of pumping my cock with her small fist, she let out a sudden gasp. Her other hand shot forward and pressed against my chest. It may have started as a cautionary gesture but soon her fingers were sinking into the muscle, slipping down in my growing layer of sweat. I was panting. She began to pant. My fingers squeezed the skin of her soft breast and she shut her eyes tight; her eyebrows knit together. She bit her lip so hard the ruby skin turned white.

I watched the little balls of her toes curl and work their way down the sheets, tangling up in the bundle at my knee. I pressed forward. She pressed against my chest harder but slowed her strokes. Her eyes snapped open and she stared at my dick, not glaring at it, and not scared at it either but transfixed by it, as if it were about to do what she'd hoped it would do, except it didn't.

If she thought she could pacify me with a handjob she was mistaken. If she thought I'd blow my load like some half-cocked teenager, no. No I'd hold myself together and let the woman rub me raw before I came, not until I'd taken what I'd come for, or she sent me away. But she didn't send me away. She didn't scream or hit me or freeze up. She took the situation in hand in a most pragmatic way, thinking maybe that the sexual tension was understandable, or maybe, I don't know, maybe figuring if I had the balls or idiocy to sneak into her room naked and eat her out I needed some reward for my trouble (not that I'd call licking Kelly's pussy trouble - the taste of her was still sweet on my lips).

The truth of it was that we were both shaking now, and Kelly visibly so. Her lithesome legs were drawn up and open on either side of me on the bed, the sheets stretched over her knees, and both of them were quaking so hard the mattress shook. She'd all but stopped rubbing me now, convinced maybe that I wouldn't, or couldn't, cum. Her lower lip hung open, her upper teeth bright white in the small gap of her mouth. Her eyes burned into mine. And neither of us had spoken a word yet. But our breath was heavy.

I sank lower on the bed, my body suddenly buffeted by the heat steaming off of her. And she pushed. She pushed my chest hard, not letting go of my cock, which sank ever lower towards her belly. Her mouth kept opening wider, and wider, as I sank lower, lower. I squeezed her breast again, and her hand suddenly shot from my chest to her bosom. That dropped me the small distance it took to slap my cock (in her fist) against her mound.

Sharp breath swept down her throat. Kelly shot a furtive look at the bathroom door. Her fingers rubbed my knuckles as they played with the wondrously soft skin of her tits.

I laid that first hot kiss on her mouth like her breath was the fruit of life. She didn't kiss me back. She just squeezed my cock for all it was worth inside her tightening fist, forcing more precum from the tip of my penis. But she had to kiss me eventually, had to fight my tongue with her own. Then she began to lick my mouth clean of her cum. She removed her hand from her own breast and reached for my face, keeping it centered over her as she raised her ankles off the bed. She held my face in front of her and licked my chin, sucking at it like she had to. I ran the tip of my nose against her tongue, letting her suckle at the sweet sourness of her clitoris. She pulled my face to the side and kissed and licked up the edge of my cheek. Between our bodies I tried to pull my penis down to her wet pussy, but she refused to let go of me. She tried to squeeze my cum out (I knew because she finally let out a hard, anguished cry when it didn't come).

I pulled her head back and bit her throat. Her fingers left my cheek and she struck me hard on the ass.

"Is that how it is, huh?" I muttered into her throat. I pulled my hand down from her breast and began to pry her fingers off my cock. She dug her chin into my cheek and tried to push me aside. Our skins were wet, mashed against each other; my penis pressed into her hand, her hand pressed into her stomach. I brushed my lips against her ear. "Tell me to go away," I said. "Tell me to go to my room..."

But she didn't say anything. I propped myself up on my arm until I was looking down, deep down, into her wide, inscrutable eyes. "Tell me..." I said. My dick throbbed and bulged in her hand. Slowly her mouth opened, opened from the very tip of her lips, from the front, all the way to the corners, until her teeth and pink tongue were visible. For a moment I really thought she would say something. Her head leaned back, her eyes locked on mine. Her thick pussy lips rubbed against my balls. I reached down and pushed her hand lower until our pubic hair tangled together. The underside of my shaft tickled her clitoris.

Her thick thighs gripped my hips.

She dragged it down, keeping her eyes locked with mine the whole time. When she brushed the tip of my naked cock against the folds of her vagina, we both shuddered. Kelly took a very deep breath and let go of my cock, casting a swift glance at the bathroom door. She left the choice up to me.

I reached out for her face. She cupped my fingers against her cheek and reached out for my arm. She wrapped her fingers around my tricep as I smoothly pushed my cock into her moist body.

Kelly grimaced, sucking air between her lips. Our foreheads met and I reached for her tits. She reached behind me to curl her fingers over my buttocks and push me deeper into her pussy. "Anh..." she said softly. I squeezed her. "Ahhn..." she grunted.

Her vagina was a long, smooth chute, muscular and soft, and incredibly hot. She hooked her ankles over my ass and forced me inside it. She was very careful not to make a sound, only the barest "Mmh..." escaping her mouth when I sucked on her lip.

I felt complete. The full length of my shaft fit snugly inside her, unprotected, bare, our cum mixing inseparably. I reached down and cupped her buttocks. The two of us tangled with each other like survivors of a disaster, like animals suddenly let out of captivity. All the want and desire and hunger that should never be and yet was was suddenly being sated, for an illicit moment. Was I surprised? I don't know. I was too enraptured to know. Kelly, despite everything I expected of her, suddenly pushed her body as deeply into the mattress as she could go and let me buck furiously into her tough, tense body. It was what I needed right then, and Kelly was doing everything she could not to cry out. She reached back and pushed her hands into the wall, her mouth open in a silent scream. My dick was soaked from her sopping snatch, pulling completely out of her muscular body and then diving back in, each dive registering a pained but addictive wince from Kelly, a similar desire to experience it and give it and take it all at once, a combination of emotions and unspoken fetishes that were impossible to undo now. It was all I'd dreamed about for so long. I dug my fingers into her flesh and pumped her harder. She craned her neck against the pillow. I pulled at her hair, she scratched my back. We fumbled and writhed over each other as the shower continued to roar in the other room.

I finally stopped my ferocious fucking and eased my shaft into her. I grabbed at her hair and she clutched at my nape where my hair met my neck. Her vagina made a sudden, loud squelch. Her mouth opened wide, but not to kiss me, to breathe hard into my face, her lower teeth catching on my chin. She squeezed her eyes closed and gave sudden "Mm"s each time I nearly pulled it out. She finally pushed my face into her soft, sweat drenched neck and wrenched her cheek against mine.

Inside her, my penis was engorged. She as ready to welcome me in as push me out. She made me fight to stay inside her, and she hugged my hips with her strong legs.

Finally, I had to pull out of her. If I continued this way I would be spent too soon and I wanted to take her from behind, if it was at all possible. Ropes of her cum, like trembling wires of saliva, dangled between our sexes. Kelly, her puffy lips still open in a hungry, disbelieving o, looked down at my still [tumescent] penis and understood that I hadn't cum yet. I grabbed her ass and lifted up, but she wouldn't budge. She shook her head. "No," I said. I grabbed the thick meat of her thigh and shoved, forcing her over onto her side. I used my weight to pin her stomach against the mattress, sliding my dick between her ass cheeks. She gave a breathy grunt that ended with a close-mouthed hum, and accepted it, and waited for me to enter her.

She whipped her hair back into my face and we both let out an anguished groan as I forced my way into her from behind. My slippery dick squelched into her pussy and I covered the backs of her hands with my palms. Our fingers enlaced and I hunched over her, pushing it in. The crack of her ass poured sweat onto my balls. Her ass flexed against my thighs and bucked against me, but I didn't let up. We rolled against each other in waves of increasing peaks and dips, until suddenly she let out a half-suppressed gasp. Kelly began to grind her hips wildly up and down on the bed, seesawing my dick in and out of the entrance to her vagina. At the same time, I reached under her legs and pushed my hand against her pubic hair, searching and ultimately finding her clitoris. I prodded the soft, moistened button while I penetrated her, leading her to finally press her face into the mattress and scream.

The mattress vibrated with her moan. It reverberated back through her whole body, even into mine. Her ass trembled against me as we continued to fuck, the whole weight of my body directly on top of her. She couldn't push against me anymore. Kelly was shaking, and she let every muscle in her body go limp. "Ahh..." she hissed. "There..."

I pushed my mouth into her ear. "Say my name," I said.

She gave a long, low groan into the soaked pillowcase. I pulled out to the very edge of her pussy and then sank it all back in, and held it, and pushed. She growled. But she didn't say it.

I pulled out and flipped her back onto her back. She opened her legs for me a final time and held her arms out to catch my chest as I squeezed into her again and pressed my mouth against hers. The kiss was sweaty, dripping. Her upper lip was salty. "Say it," I groaned.

She reached up to cradle the back of my head. And lifted her legs up. And laid her knees against my back. Now I was sliding even deeper into her sex. Thickly, that sound, the sound of my dick plunging freely through her pussy, loudly, torridly filled the room.

She didn't tell me to hurry up, though I should have. She didn't tell me to cum or to pull out, though she knew that I had to. She pressed her tits hard into my chest until the nipples were digging into my skin, and she opened her legs wider, and wider.

I thrust, again and again, as fast as I could - wanting to cum, wanting to fill her completely. I knew she would let me. We were tightly bound together now, her face buried into my chest as she wrapped her arms tighter around my back, enduring my pained thrusts, my dick a bolt of iron that I just could not relieve.

Kelly pulled away from me. Midway between the pillow and my face our eyes crossed, and hers showed a sudden concern. She had given me permission to finish. Our sin was total now, there was no going back, we had given ourselves to this thing. But I had held myself back for so long, the shower pounding in my ears, I knew in that moment that I couldn't.

Then the shower shut off.

My dick slid free from her body while her eyes went wide and my body nearly levitated off the bed. Caught in the sheets, my feet spilled me onto the floor, stiff prick still wagging and painfully bouncing in the air, and I stumbled and crawled and picked myself up and ran from the room like a spooked cat, Kelly twisting in the bed, my father's heavy footfalls already leaving the bathroom.

"Kel?" his deep voice emanated from the steam. "You alright?"

"Just slipped," I heard her say as I dashed through the hallway and escaped to my room. When I shut the door I heard them meet halfway. I closed my door as swiftly and as softly as I could, and I stood there in the darkness, buck naked, sweat and the smell of sex rising from my curved dick. It pointed up at me, wet and throbbing, and I stared down at it, my heart going too fast for me to breathe properly.

I stomped towards my own window, opened it, then shut it again, then opened it, trying to get some air, trying to think, trying not to think at all.

Finally I leaned over my desk and let my arms hold me up, every muscle tense and refusing to give an inch. My penis, painful as it was, refused to soften. It wanted to be back inside her. It wanted to finish what it had started.

Tentatively, I reached a hand to it (maybe I could do it myself), but it was no good. It wasn't the same, and it hurt. I growled and drove my fist into the wood. Then, I had to laugh.

And it felt good to laugh, both sad and wonderful. I shook my head at the thoughts that whirled in my brain, and I listened to Kelly and my father talk in the early morning. Then I heard him stride down the hall and head towards the kitchen.

I remained where I was. Tried to listen for the sounds of Kelly taking a shower, trying to imagine the water dripping down her hot and sweat-drenched body. I imagined the pool of it at her feet reflecting her tufted, glossy pussy beneath her. Had my father not known? Had the steam of the shower masked the musk of our rough sex? The whole time she'd kept herself from making a sound. Opened for me... I reached for my penis again, unable to restrict myself.

The door opened without a knock. Shocked, I just about jumped, whirling in time to see Kelly open my door and softly shut it behind her. "Sorry," she said, "am I interrupting something?"

She wasn't naked. She was wearing her tight, white yoga shorts, her black sports bra, her hair in a casual pony tail. Sweat beads formed a line from the dip in her throat down through the valley of her cleavage. She rested her plump ass against my door. Even in the dim morning light I could see the moisture on her forehead; she looked like she'd just been fucked."Sorry I didn't knock," she said. She put one bare foot in front of her. I watched my blinds draw slits over her tanned thigh. "A room is supposed to be private...it's for private things. It's rude not to knock when you want something, isn't it?" she whispered. She walked towards me, the roll of her hips unmistakably meant to draw attention. "You're staring," she said. She stopped when she was just outside arm's reach. Her unreadable eyes flitted from my face down to my naked cock, and back. "So," she said, "I don't think we should do yoga classes anymore." She drew her fingers up in a smooth, obvious gesture, rolling her fingertips over her breasts, her bare stomach, down to her hips, and leaving them on the triangle of her crotch. Having drawn my eyes down her body, her fingers rested just above a clear glistening line of cum leading from the leg of her shorts. "I think it's giving you the wrong idea," she said huskily, and she went down into a crouch.

I watched her sink to the floor. I watched her come forward on her knees, arms out until they touched my thighs, then she drew her hands up my legs until they slid over the skin of my shaft. Kelly made a tsking sound and pouted.

"That looks like it hurts," she said. She moistened her lips with her tongue, and then those dazzling eyes turned up to me. "Do you want mama to make it all better?"

God, yes, I wanted to say, but I didn't dare breathe a word. I felt like the whole world would evaporate if I spoke, as if Kelly would leave, and never look back, never speak of this again, and the sperm would never leave my cock. So I just lowered my arms until they lightly, so lightly, rested on her shoulders, and slid gingerly towards her neck.

Kelly continued to stare up at me with open, wondering eyes. She brought the soft skin of her lower lip against the swollen head of my dick. "Do you want me to go?" she whispered. "Tell me to go to my room..."

I shook my head.

Eyes locked on mine, she sucked the whole head of my dick cleanly between her lips. I felt her tongue dance up and down my slit. I groaned.

She popped it out of her mouth. "Never again, you understand? I'm your dad's wife, not your tramp." As she said it she bent my dick back and licked the underside of my shaft from the balls to my tip. Slowly. Her eyes never wavered from mine. "I'm not here for you to take, whenever you want..." Then she rubbed her palm down to the base, slick and wet with her spit and the residue of her pussy, wiggling her wrist back and forth as it slid down the curves and veins in my cock. She took me into her mouth and gagged on me.

The first twitch of my cock made me stumble forward. Kelly reached up to brace my stomach. "Easy, tiger," she whispered. She kissed my head once, twice, again, until she was making out with my penis, lathering her tongue back and forth along its surface, plucking the inside of her cheek with its stiffness and soaking it in her saliva. I could barely see straight, but I watched her roll my cock over her tongue as she dutifully sat on the heels of her feet, her perfect toes pointed to my door, her tight ass perched and bobbing with her neck. I watched her breasts jiggle under the sports bra and remembered what it had felt like to see her mouth widen at the thrust of my dick. I wanted to take her all over again, right there in my room, pull down those tight shorts and jam myself inside her until she screamed my name.

"I c'n feel it," she murmured into my dripping cock. She took a breath and pumped me with long strokes. "Did I give you the wrong idea?" She kissed my cock and let a string of cum dangle between its glistening surface and her shiny lips. "Or did you just want to fuck me so bad you didn't care?"

Then she peeled the sports bra down her tits.

I grabbed her thick hair and pushed my cock between her lips. She swallowed me hungrily. I couldn't help but cry out; Kelly took me to the back of her throat. I ran my shaft back and forth along her tongue and then relented when she did the work herself. Her breasts swayed back against her body, half-pinned by the dangling bra. My whole dick tensed in readiness. "Kelly, don't stop."

"Mm-mm," was all she said.

"God, Kelly, don't fucking stop-" She pumped me in and out of her mouth, the sucking growing louder, and louder. "I'm gonna c-" My balls clenched.

I spurted and she swallowed. I came and she gulped me thickly, reaching up to masturbate me into her mouth. My fingers clutched at her tangle of hair while I thrust, with each surge, between Kelly's lips, and bless her, the girl cupped my balls and squeezed me tenderly.

She pulled away from my cock gasping, but just as quickly returned to it, kissing the head clean of its last sticky cream and popping it back in her mouth, sucking it off, reclaiming the last twitching remnants of my orgasm. She shut her eyes, licked it, smooched it. But she wouldn't abandon it. Kelly darted her eyes up at me, and sucked at the cock, sucked me until I could feel her pulling the cum from the slit, lapping it back with her tongue, gulping it.

With my hands in her golden hair, not sure if I wanted to remove her from my tender, jerking penis or keep her there forever, she circled her fingers tighter around me and held my prick in place as it softened, rubbing it over her mouth, onto the pink bowl of her tongue.

Her eyes stayed on mine, the tip of my head still clasped securely between her lips, as she sucked, as she stroked. I throbbed into her wet mouth. Her throat bobbed as she took the semen down into her stomach. I felt her tongue stretch along the underside of my vein, teasing the last vestiges of my cum from my contracting balls, sore from pumping their pearly payload. Then she dropped the wet cock and rose swiftly to her feet.

"Thanks for breakfast," she said, and left without looking back.