ARIES' HORN
I naturally assumed I had committed some horrible sin in a previous life when my father introduced me to his new girlfriend. Rose was somewhere between half his age and twice mine, and she was so fucking hot. A perfect body with all the best kinds of curves in all the right places and a smile below a pair of soft blue eyes and dark-rooted blonde hair that almost made me cream my pants; more than once.
My first introduction to Rose was just a quick hello at the front door before dad took her on a date. Several more similarly quick meetings followed by private masturbatory sessions where I imagined myself fucking her well-aged but not mature body. Things only got worse when Dad invited Rose over to share dinner with us one night.
The week before, it was apparent he was nervous about the upcoming event. Going so far as to hire a cleaning crew to take care of the entire house. He also used every possible moment we had together to tell me how wonderful she was and how much she reminded him of my mother and was so different at the same time. It seems Rose was a friend of my mother's, and the three of them hung out quite often before mom got pregnant with me. After dad proposed to my mom, the three of them went their separate ways.
Hey, I get it, he was in love again with an old friend that reminded him of my mom, and I was in lust for the same woman.
Eventually, the dinner I was dreading arrived, and, after following my father's insistent demands, I waited behind him at the front door, showered, shaved, and with freshly brushed teeth.
After a very timid knock on the door, dad greeted Rose with a tender kiss, then introduced me to Rose's daughter, Laila, hiding behind my dad's girlfriend just beyond the front door.
Laila was my age, and I would later learn at dinner that night, we shared the same birthday and were born in the same city. Laila's hair and skin were darker than her mother's; something I assumed was her father's legacy. Laila had the same killer body as her mom, just younger. Her blue eyes seemed even more intense, standing out against her tanned face and jet-black hair. Her face was a work of art, perfectly sculpted thick dark eyebrows and full but not puffy lips that made my stomach clench with hunger. Then Laila smiled at me, and my insides melted. Whatever lust I held for Rose was instantly supplanted by my desire to mate with her daughter, over and over, endlessly until one of us died in the throes of passion.
Dad's nervousness seemed to grow exponentially after Rose and Laila arrived. He was stumbling over himself, trying to make everything perfect, including pushing Laila and me to engage in conversation, ignoring the fact we had just met and that neither of us knew the other existed until meeting for the first time at the front door.
Dad's pathetically uncomfortable dinner ended in the worst possible way for me and the best possible way for dad when Rose found the engagement ring he had hidden in her desert.
Laila and I silently cleared the table as Rose and dad excitedly talked about our collective futures without bothering to consider the impact it would have on their children. Laila and I had no other choice but to engage in the small talk dad had tried to force us to start earlier while we washed the dishes, knowing we would soon have to take on the roles of step-brother and step-sister.
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Ok, so, a year or so later, both Rose and Laila settled into living with dad and me. Laila graduated from High School the week after I did, and we ended up attended each other's ceremonies. Publicly appearing as step-bother and step-sister for the first time after being co-ring bearers at Rose's and dad's wedding. Dad and Rose left Laila and me alone in the house the week they honeymooned, but Laila and I didn't interact too much. We would agree on what food we wanted for dinner, and we did end up watching a movie one night, but neither of us said too much to each other beyond what was necessary to share a Jack and Jill bathroom, the kitchen, and the big screen TV in the family room.
After Rose and Laila moved in, I found myself being extra cautious and quiet when I masturbated to one of many fantasies where I fucked both my new step-sister and her mother... my father's new wife... sometimes both at the same time. Clearing my room of cum infused tissue became an OCD as I worried Laila might smell my spent sex via our shared bathroom, or Rose would recognize the lingering scent on the rare occasion she entered my space.
Masturbation to thoughts of my step-sister and step-mother became a five to six times a day thing over that summer, especially since both of them seemed only to wear bikinis or other skimpy sunbathing attire around the house.
Things finally changed when Laila and I started college. We didn't attend the same schools, but our first semesters were the same kind of repeat classes from our last high school year. We finally found common ground. Eventually, we grew close enough she let me help her through a nasty breakup. That's when I discovered there was hell worse than the "Friend-Zone"... being a step-brother.
I also discovered my step-sister was a slut. She seemed to always be after the biggest dick, in more ways than one; even the guy who broke her heart was named Richard. This new knowledge only added to my frustrations and my desire to use her body to release my pent-up sexual desires.
The most beautiful woman in the world lived, slept, and... existed in the bedroom just on the other side of our shared bathroom. A woman so far out of my league, the doors we shared might as well have been Stargates between galaxies. Part of me knew and accepted, Laila (and her mother) would always be torturously close and untouchable at the same time. But, some inextinguishable spark deep inside never let me give up hope that a miracle might happen. Something that would bring at least Laila and I together as more than brother and sister, more than the casually comfortable friends we had become... I wanted to be her lover. I wanted to explore her body, invade her sex and make Laila scream endlessly from the repeated orgasms I gave her.
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Moving on... so, you know those junk mails you get about everything from free products, erection pills, and girls that want to fuck for free. We all get them, but I kept getting some from some Gypsy named Mistress Alla-i. The subject lines were always different or different enough, and they looked and read like spam mail, but I could never seem to get my spam filters to clear out of my inbox. No matter what I did, they always reappeared in my primary inbox. To figure out why I opened one. Inside was a note that seemed oddly specific to me. It wasn't one of those generic {insert name here} kind of scripts... the email knew my full name, address, private email address (the one I only share with friends and family), and my step-sister's name. This Mistress Alla-i seemed to be offering me a love potion of some kind that would make Laila, called out by name, let me have sex with her whenever I wanted, as often as I wanted.
I know I should have known better, but that targeted email was so direct and so specific and would not filter from my inbox no matter what I did. All that, plus that annoying spark of hope in my lust-filled heart, wouldn't stop nagging me until I did something about it. Eventually, I found myself driving past Mistress Alla-i's address after one of my classes got out early.
Hidden behind a white farm-like fence in the middle of a small tree-grove stood a restored Victorian-era house that hosted several small businesses. None of the discrete, era-appropriate signages referenced a Gypsy or Mistress Alla-i.
I parked then climbed the short gray painted steps, checking out the interior through one of the beveled edged glass windows before opening one of the double doors into the foyer. An eager real estate agent greeted me within moments of the bell at the top of the door announcing my entrance. I explained who I was looking for, and he told me he had never heard of Mistress Alla-i or any Gypsy or fortune teller having ever occupied the former Victorian home.
"Could you check with your co-workers?" that confounded spark of hope made me ask.
A few moments later, a college-aged woman joined me in the foyer. In her hands was an ornate gold-inlaid wooden box.
"Mistress Alla-i left this box with me several months ago," expressing a flirting smirk as she continued, "She said a young man would arrive unannounced asking for her. She didn't know when you would show up, just that you would. It's been so long since she was here I completely forgot about it until the new guy came and asking about Mistress Alla-i."
We talked briefly, casually flirting with each other until her ringing office phone took her away. I had probed for more details about this Mistress Alla-i, but the young woman appeared to know nothing more than what she had already told me, that and providing docent's lecture on the house's history.
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Safe and alone in my car, I opened the unlocked box. Inside, the lid had the same ornate gold-inlaid decoration as the top of the box. Burgundy felt covered the bottom of the wooden box. Sliding around on the cloth interior, I found a small black ring box and an envelope. I opened the ring box first, finding and studying a pendant made of two merged ram's horns pressed side by side, forming a Y; one horn smooth, and the other with carved concentric rings flowing across the top of the upside-down cornucopia. The Y's conjoined bottom tapered off to a smooth point that appeared sharp enough to penetrate soft flesh, but not the thicker skin of my fingers.
I closed the ring box, returning it to the wooded box, then extracted the envelope. Inside I found a poem;
On the tenth day of Aries
A kiss from the horn of the faeries
Will grant you the stealth of Hades
Your blade of love will be felt but unseen
Make sure it's clean
A new age of Aquarius begins after the Moon moves into Sagittarius
Unrequited love becomes burglarious
Until the Moon is in opposition to Mars
Your ignored avatar will take you far
Be loose, and use lots of juice
Warning! - free-use can lead to abuse
Three times your lover must peak before you complete
Say nothing, don't speak
Mystic porn ricocheted
Love born the same day will always find a way
I replayed that odd poem in my head over and over again as I drove home. I then studied it, trying to understand what it meant. It took a lot of research as I'm not into Astrology, but the best I can determine from all the strange websites I visited, Aries' horn was an aphrodisiac. Love potion number 69 on one of the lists I saw, and if I poked Laila's skin with the sharp tip of the pendant, I could fuck my sister as often as I wanted, and she wouldn't see me... and more importantly, she couldn't stop me or resist what I was doing to her. She'd feel what I was doing to her as if I were an intense daydream. I could also make her cum as often as I wanted to, provided I remained silent, never speaking aloud or inflicting any pain (the latter appearing on most, but not all of the sites I reviewed). The astrological references narrowed my window of opportunity to 12:03 am the first of April until 4:47 am the following morning, which was perfect as Dad and Rose would be gone the entire weekend. The last line was an apparent reference to Laila and I being born on the same day.
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Saturday, the first of April, 2017, was just a few days away, and I spent most of that time watching my step-sister sunbathe while masturbating or enjoying pictures I had taken of Laila showering... and masturbating to those. Between my self-satisfaction sessions, I mentally fought a battle between rationality and that tiny spark that had morphed into a roaring flame of unrealistic hope. I continued my research, hoping to find even one believable thread of evidence that Aries' Horn was real. All I could find were insinuations, inferences, and stories of stories about friends of a friend with no first-person experiences to validate my need for the myth to be true.
I found myself speaking to and looking directly at her, even less than usual at dinner the last night of March or during family TV time afterward. As what had become our custom, Dad and Rose shared one of the sofas, and Laila sat next to me. Dad and Rosa's hungered need to share their sexual affections almost became a public display about halfway through the movie. I think Dad was the one that stopped things before they went too far. They said their "good-nights" and reminded me they were departing early before I usually woke up. Then they left me alone with Laila sleeping on my shoulder.
My step-sister's sleeping deep cleavage was calling to my eyes and making the persistently eager erection in my shorts harder and more leaker. I gently woke her when the movie credits started to roll, then followed her to our adjoining rooms. Even after several more masturbatory sessions, trying to purge the feeling of her body next to mine, and the way her bosoms called to me, sleep did not visit me for very long... several times that night.
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The first day of April arrived, and I was awake early. I heard Rose and dad drive off while I stared at the ceiling, rubbing and stroking myself. Not too long after, I heard Laila in our shared bathroom. In nothing but my gray cotton sleep shorts and the Aries' Horn dangling around my neck, I crept toward the bathroom's pocket door. Dad had replaced the swing doors on both sides of the bathroom before mom died, but he's no carpenter. The door on my side was never able to fully close, which is how I could secretly watch and take pictures of Laila when she showered.
I already knew every part of her magnificent body as well, if not better than she did. One of my favorite spots being the three moles on her back that aligned to in such a way one's eyes naturally followed them to the curve of her spine, past the dimpled cleft above her ass-crack, then onward into the valley between her two tanned moons.
Her breasts were somewhere between the size of softballs and small melons. Not too large to be cumbersome but large enough that even the smallest bikinis she wore created a slit of cleavage that my face longed to suffocate between the same way an ostrich buries its head in the sand. Her naturally tan skin was the same all over except for the half-shade lighter sun-induced shadows that outlined her bosoms, and tight V'd pubic mound. Her dark nipples were thick even when not hard, standing out above chocolate-colored milk bottle cap-sized areolas.
All of that magnificent beauty hid behind a thin, almost transparent, long nightshirt when I pretended to stagger sleepily into the bathroom. Laila's intense blue eyes smiled a morning greeting at me before returning her attention to her reflection, resuming the brushing of her long straight, raven-shimmering hair. I mumbled a morning greeting, then disappeared into the water closet.
I heard her say something about making omelets for breakfast from the other side of the closed door as I urinated into the toilet and massaged the gold pendant around my neck between my fingers.
I still couldn't make myself look at her, even her reflection, exited the water closet, or when I moved up next to her to wash my hands. She leaned over her sink, plucking at her perfect eyebrows with a tweezer, restating, "I was going to make myself an omelet this morning with the leftovers from last night. Would you like me to make one for you too?" Her painfully attractive blue eyes were scanning my naked chest in the mirror as she verbalized one of the house rules, "I'll cook if you clean."
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I finally looked up at Laila's heartbreakingly perfect reflection, feeling the cold heavy metal of Aries' Horn pulling at my neck. I silently held my wet hands up like a surgeon, moving toward the towel rack behind Laila. I dried my hands, then reached up to feel the curved pointy miracle (or massive mistake) choking me. I turned around, pinching Aries' Horn between my fingers, faking a sleepy stumble just before I poked her exposed neckline with my tiny sword of inextinguishable hope.
She didn't react, and I wasn't sure I had made skin contact until she ripped an offending hair out by the root. Then her eyes looked up at my face still hovering behind her shoulder. An unexpected expression of confusion washed over her face before she looked back at her mirror image, raising her voice, demanding, "Hey! Where'd you go?" Then calling out, "What do you want in your omelet?"
From behind her, I watched as her head turned to face my room. She raised her voice, repeating her demand before turning back to the impossible to improve perfection that was her face. I watched from her and my unmoving self in the mirror as Laila forcefully evicted another hair from her flawlessly sculpted eyebrows. She studied the now homeless hair as she muttered, "I was thinking about watching a movie... want to join me?"
Returning the tweezers to the catch-all between the sinks, then extracting a cotton-swab before she seemed to look right through my reflection as she Q-Tip'd her ear. Raising her voice again, while looking right at me, Laila called out, "I want some of that sausage we had last night in my omelet. How about you?" before turning back to dispose of the small cotton-tipped stick.
Shrugging her shoulders after not hearing a response from me, Laila leaned forward to prepare her toothbrush. I tested my existence by caressing her marvelous nightshirt-covered lower back and butt, going so far as to run my finger through her ass-crack, something I would never have done to her on purpose.
She didn't move.
Not until she reached back to pull at the bottom of her nightshirt, freeing the wedgie I pushed between her cheeks. I grew a little bolder, reaching down to the back of her exposed thigh, caressing my hand up and under her nightshirt, cupping and caressing one of her butt cheeks. Once again, she didn't react to my unauthorized invasion and exploration, not moving except to lean forward when she started to brush her teeth.
My heart raced, and a nervous excitement tingled under my skin as I pushed the envelope, stepping behind her, using the tips of two pairs of pinched fingers to carefully raise the bottom of her nightshirt up and over her glorious backside. Her hips wiggled, making the most amazing ass I'd ever seen, even in porn or a magazine, tick-tock above her thighs as she hummed a song to herself while shifting the toothbrush to the other side of her mouth.
My finger reached out seemingly on its own, gently landing in the center of her three lower back moles, then tenderly followed the directions they laid out to the divot at the bottom of her spine. My finger circled that flawless crater before continuing to drive right down the center of her ass-crack.
I then dropped to my knees, following my leading finger as it curved under and around to the magnificent twin mounds of her outer labia. Both sides of her dark, but not black, puffy macaroons pinching and holding in place the soft mouthwatering glistening treat that was her inner lips. Her inner labia were not too long, although I do like long flowering inner lips; Laila's were just the right length, size to extend a little beyond her outer lips, and both were sparkingly with a glossy coating of feminine lubricant.
I knelt behind her exposed butt, resting on my knees, looking up in prayer at her fantastic ass, perfect pussy, and marvelous mammaries sloshing below her chest farther up the nightshirt draped over her back as she swayed to the song in her head.My finger slipped, then slid between her puckered lower lips, almost racing out the other side of her slightly open thighs after expecting more resistance than her frictionless slime offered. My finger slid back and forth, sawing deeper and deeper into her slippery flesh without any adverse response or reaction from her, even when my index finger found the entrance to her cave of wonders, trepidatiously penetrating her vagina.
The only thing that seemed to happen was her dancing hips sped up, moving around more and dipping lower, swallowing my finger as if her brain changed the beat bouncing around between her ears.
Entranced watching and feeling her cunt munching on, sucking on, and dancing on my finger, I lost track of time. At some point, my dominant hand sought out and found my painfully hard erection, freeing it from my cotton shorts. Without thinking and unable to not watch, a second finger joined the first inside my step-sister's pole-dancing vagina.
Then, the most unexpected thing happened; I heard Laila's toothbrush vacate her mouth, then hummed into view on the other side of her thighs before the head sank into the folds of fleshly macaroon.
Her butt pushed back and out, her brown eye winking at me as her hips began to bounce up and down on my two inserted fingers. She started to moan quietly, a low frequency humming vibrating out of her chest and into the sink her head hovered over. Her other hand magically appeared, her fingers digging into, then pulling open her butt cheek, exposing and aiming her dark anal ring at me. At the same time, her shoulders dropped to the sink's surface. I watched my hand begin to move counter to her hip's dancing, pulling out when she pulled up, pushing up when her butt came down. At the same time, my vision could not help but watch as one of her fingers poked and probed her pulsating dark asshole.
The feeling of her soft hot cunt clenching my fingers was beyond amazing. My dominant hand was subconsciously tightening and loosening its grip around my cock in sync with her pussy sucking on my fingers. Soon I was stroking myself in time with her dancing gyrations.
There were too many things to look at, feel and smell. The pungent aroma of Laila's feminine musk wafted into my nose tickled my sinuses before adding a new flavor sensation to my palet.
Confused, conflicted, and hornier than I had ever been, I wanted to taste Laila's cunt, lick her ass, continue to finger her cunt, and fuck her until my cum squirted out of her ears. Her squished breasts under her nightgown overflowed the edge of the counter, aiming her thick inflamed nipples right at me, both begging to be pinched, pulled, and suck on.
I was too close to squirting to do any of those things; I needed a release.
Keeping my fingers inside my step-sister, I slowly rose from the floor. Her butt continued to rise and fall on my inserted digits, and from below, the humming toothbrush vibrations seemed to move into her thighs. Both of her slightly open legs were twitching. Quivering almost as fast as the muffled pulsations of her toothbrush stimulating her clit.
"That's two," I heard in my head, then my mental voice repeated part of the poem, "Three times your lover must peak before you complete."
"One more," I told myself, twisting my wrist and my fingers inside her until my thumb could slide between them as they opened up inside her. My thumb fucked the space between my two fingers, spreading open her cunt while at the same time coating itself with her natural lube. Laila's knees buckled for a moment, driving my thumb-separated fingers deeper into her, producing an audible gasp that was far louder than the quiet moans I could barely hear over the toothbrush serenading her clit.
For a moment, quite a bit of her weight rested on my hand, straining my wrist as my fingers and contorted palm pushed up against her heavy groin. Laila's near-collapse shoved my penetrations higher and deeper into her clenching cunt.
When her legs found the strength to push herself up, my thumb freed itself, and my fingers repositioned. My middle and ring finger remained inside her, freeing my thumb to find, then push away the finger she was using to caress her butthole. Slowly, carefully, but without hesitation, my thumb pushed into her ass. Spreading open her dark puckered anal ring, using the natural lube from her pussy to ease entry to her rectum with only the impressive strength of her sphincter offering any resistance.
Standing behind my step-sister, I saw the top of her head and her long dark flowing hair dangling over the sink. Below her breathing heaving back, Laila's perfect tanned ass was open, exposed, and impaled on my thumb. My arm used both fingers and thumb to gently fuck both her cunt and her ass at the same time. My thumb found my middle finger inside her, and a semi-hard egg of flesh became their shared obsession. Gently pinching, squeezing, and moving my thumb and finger around that fleshy knob inside her resulted in Laila's entire body stiffening, twitching, then convulsing over and over again as I stimulated her unseeable button.
"Three's not enough," I thought to myself, "I love you too much to let you only have three before me."
An incredible sense of perverse satisfaction came over me as I force her body to climax over and over again. I heard the toothbrush hit the floor as her body thrashed, her breathing panicked, and her hips kept trying to fall away. My excited eagerness gave me the strength to hold her hips aloft while my other hand was stroking my cock faster, tighter, bringing forth an unstoppable need to achieve personal satisfaction.
A scream echoed from the sink, which pulled the trigger of my climax, squirting stream after stream and glob after glob of my gooey cum all over her butt cheek, lower back, and thigh. I watched with detached fascination as some of it pooled in the divot at the top of her butt. My favorite three moles seemed to be smiling at the white pond of my cum contrasting against her tan skin.
I had never cum that much or that hard before, and it took all the self-control I had to remain silent as I squirted my man-milk all over my step-sister's backside.
It took me a moment to recover, my hand still embedded in her butt and cunt, and my other was milking my cock when the realization of what I had done and who I had done it to began to manifest behind my unbelieving eyes.
I gently extracted my thumb first, and I swear I heard her mutter a sound of disappointment before I watched her pulsating butthole slowly reseal itself. Her clit remained hypercharged, making her body flinch and twitch when I extracted my pussy slimed fingers, then slid them between her lips, pinching her clit somewhat unintentionally or maybe experimentally.
She remained hunched over, resting with her elbows on the counter, panting and breathing into the sink below her head as I washed my hands in the other. I moisten a hand-towel with warm water, then used it to wipe her clean, starting with her pussy, then moving to the trail of cum streaming down her thigh from the puddles of white jism on her butt and back. After drying off her butt with a towel, I gently returned her nightgown to its previous position before leaving as quietly as I could, allowing Laila to recover on her own.
Every synapse in my head fired randomly, and every nerve under my skin tingled and itched at the same time. I quickly became mentally dysfunctional, trying to process what happened, what I did to my step-sister, how I had used a drug to violate Laila, to rape her with my fingers and thumb. Sexually abusing the woman I had cathartically realized I loved even while continuing to force her body to endure one orgasm after another.
The cascading synaptic failures and conflicting thoughts, ideas, and personal indignation induced a total shut down of my higher brain functions.
Not only was I suddenly suffering from an unexpected panic attack, but I could also feel gravity pulling me down, instantly physically exhausted. I had just enough energy and awareness to collapse on my bed, quickly transitioning to a fit-filled sleep.
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I don't know how long I slept. I woke to the same unresolved conflicts that had robbed me of consciousness after using my step-sister as a sex-toy.
"Warning! - free-use can lead to abuse," popped into my head, and my face nodded, confirming what I had discovered the hard way. But, no matter what the Jiminy Cricket in my head said, that stupid spark of hope countered with some unrealistic rationalization that encouraged me to take advantage of Aries' Horn for as long as it continued to work. Justifying my future actions as an opportunity that would never come along again.
I bumped into one of the barstools while pulling a shirt over my head when I entered the kitchen. The on-going debates and recriminations being lobbed back and forth across the battlefield between my ears had significantly degraded my peripheral awareness.
She must have heard me because right after I stabilized the noisy chair, she shouted from the living room, "I mess up my first omelet. I left it on the counter for you in case you wanted it."
I peeked around the corner, finding Laila on the sofa with her empty breakfast plate on the coffee table between her and the TV. Laila had her knees pulled up to her chest as she watched one of those cheap, formulaic made-for-tv romance movies she loved. Still wearing her long T-Shirt nightwear, her puffy outer lips were fully exposed and visible, also aimed at the TV. Laila had pulled her nightshirt over her knees but not low enough to hide her flower-petal-like inner lips being squeezed out into the open by the puffy mounds of her pussy as her arms pulled her knees together.
I wordlessly warmed the scrambled omelet in the microwave and sliced an English muffin in two. While the sourdough round toasted, I sat at the kitchen table where I could see my step-sister's beautifully entranced face reflecting the movie's emotions. In my mind, her eyes and mouth were works of art that could challenge the Mona-Lisa, and her exposed pussy was a beauty no artist could recreate and capture the same feeling as seeing her usually hidden treasure in person.
The toaster dinged before I finished my flavorless scrambled omelet. I had to force myself to look away from my bottomless sister to navigate my way over to the toaster. I buttered and jellied my muffins, returning to find her just as entranced by her movie, except her knees had separated, bringing into view the dark triangle of manicured fur aimed at, and almost touching, the top of her slit. Instead of her binding her knees together, the tight cotton T now clung to her breasts, conforming to and replicating her bosom's curves with unmatched precision. Even the outlines of her dark areolas were visible behind her thick perky, yet soft nipples.
Other than the refrigerator kicking in and the voices from the TV, the entire house was silent, especially me. Laila, entranced by the movie's dialog, didn't speak or acknowledge my presence, not even a quick admonishing glance as I continued to stare at her pussy, and her nipple tipped breasts barely hiding under her almost transparent nightshirt.
I continued the silence, soundlessly clearing my plate, not bothering to move it or my utensils into the dishwasher. The muted atmosphere followed me into the living room, and when I entered, Laila didn't move, react or redirect her attention away from the TV. After a moment of nervous terror, I stepped closer, eventually blocking her view.
Once again, she didn't react or acknowledge my existence, continuing to watch her movie through me.
Emboldened by the erection tugging at my groin, I removed my shirt and my shorts. Standing naked between my step-sister and the TV aiming my fully erect penis at her face. She didn't react or acknowledge my existence, continuing to look right through me at the moving pictures beyond my back.
Reassured Aries' Horn seemed to be working better than expected. I tossed my clothes on the coffee table as I walked around to stand directly in front of her. I then dropped to my knees, resting on my legs and feet, staring at and studying her pussy.
As I mentioned earlier, I have seen my step-sister naked before, and I have a collection of pictures to prove it. But, this was the first time I had ever seen her cunt up close and in person. I wanted a camera to capture the uncapturable, a souvenir I could jerk off to over and over again after my secret power over my step-sister wore off.
Instead, my eyes studied and memorized every nook, cranny, and crevasse that made her groin the most awe-inspiring sight I had ever seen. The debating voices in my head all fell silent, unable to continue their arguments as they too were overcome by Laila's exposed splendor. My fingers twitched, wanting to poke and probe her again, and my mouth watered, hungering to taste her feminine flesh.
Something happened in the movie that made her entire body wince. She laughed to herself, then re-snuggled into a position where her nightshirt was low around her waist, her thighs open, knees raised and apart, and her pussy even more accessible than before.
On my hands and knees, I crawled forward, tenderly kissing her labia before my tongue began to probe the soft pedals of her slippery dark-red flower.
Laila's thighs flinched closed around my head, vicing my face to her groin. My mouth kissed her pussy, and my tongue explored the valleys between her inner and outer labia, occasionally venturing into her cave of wonders.
I must have been doing something right because her thighs began to tremble as they squeezed my ears tighter to the sides of my head. I continued to lick and probe in the same area until her quivering thighs relaxed.
"That's one," I told myself, directing my dominant hand to begin finger probing her pussy as my lips captured and held her clitoral hood hostage. My tongue circled and caressed her clit as one hand began to penetrate her vagina, and the other reached up under her nightshirt to find the delicate curves of one of her breasts.
Her bosom's rounded weight was something I had always wanted to feel but had never experienced in person. My brain knew her tender and pliable plump masses were nothing more than glands used to produce milk. But my lust did not perceive her breasts that way. My fingers itched to feel her squishy flesh between them, and my hand wanted to engulf one in its entirety, to assert dominance and ownership of her plump mound of tenderness. Moving my hand higher, I found I was not the only one seeking out her areolas. Laila's hand had gotten there first, pulling and pinching her hard nipples from the other side of her nightshirt until my fingers took over underneath.
I soon found the secret combination of clit flicking, phalangeal pussy penetration, and nipple stimulation to illicit another near-silent orgasm from my step-sister. Her thighs spasmed again, and between clenching convulsions, I could hear her muted gasps for air, counting her body's trembling and puffy breathing as her second climax.
I quickly forced a third on my step-sister, removing my finger from her cunt, replacing it with another as the first one penetrated her ass. Repeating what I knew had worked before, I wormed my finger into her ass, seeking and finding that same egg-shaped bump between her rectum and vagina.
She screamed just like she had in the bathroom.
This time her orgasmic climax was even more violent; her entire body, arms and neck, and head all twisting and turning in opposing directions as if she were taffy being pulled and refolded upon itself.
Knowing number three was well underway, I released her breast, pulling my arm back so my hand could stroke my profusely leaking penis. Before her spams fully subsided, I once again jerked off on my step-sister.
Her head almost seemed ready to detach from her neck and roll off the back of the couch when I glanced up. Fighting to remain silent, I looked down to watch my hand stroke my erection to climax. Without removing my embedded fingers, I stood up, spraying cum out of my cock, all over, and intermingling and tangling in her thick triangle of pubic fur. Leaning over Leila, I milked everything I could from my cock, leaving behind a few extra drops on her still throbbing clitorial hood.
I turned around to grab my shirt, then twisting back, prepared to wipe up my mess; that's when I noticed Laila's head resting on the back of the sofa. She was looking up at the ceiling with closed eyes, and her hands were distributing my load around her groin and stomach like it were sunscreen.
Stupified, I watched my step-sister spreading my seed around, massaging my cum into her exposed flesh... until the pangs of guilt returned.
I grabbed the rest of my discarded clothes, silently departing, returning to my room to once again rationalize, process, and argue the ethics of forcing myself on an unwilling and unknowing sexual partner. "If she were blindfolded, and I wore a mask, it would be just as taboo as what I'm doing to my step-sister... the woman I love... rape is rape," jump-started the brewing internalized debate as I entered my room.
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I tried studying, writing a paper that was not due for a few weeks; I even tried playing my favorite first-person shooter. Nothing could distract me from what I had done to Laila; my actions, guilt, and the knowledge nothing would ever be the same between us clung to me like determined peanut butter. It was as if a song I hated would not stop playing in my head. Nothing I did could override the abysmal future I saw before me and the physiological counseling Laila might need if she remembered everything I did to her... without her permission.
I saw three paths forward. One, I would stop what I was doing, throw away the cursed pendant I accepted from a gypsy I never met, and hope Laila never remembers what I did to her. Two, given there was no fight, other than with myself, I could take flight. Move out; after all, I was over eighteen, and I could always find a roommate on campus. Then I could cut ties with my family, and Laila would never have to worry about me hurting her again, and neither would I.
But those paths were not for me. The third path, the right path, was the one I needed to follow.
Realizing I had been pacing my room, playing on my game console, and trying to do school work while naked, I put on my night-shorts and the same shirt I had worn earlier. I inhaled deeply, straightened my shoulders then made my way through the shared bathroom toward Laila's room.
I knocked, then pulled back on the pocket door, finding my step-sister on the bed, naked, and masturbating. Laila's body lay face-up across her bed, her head dangling slightly over the edge as one hand massaged a breast and the other ground an electric massager to her groin.
I stepped forward, walking closer; Laila's slowly panting open mouth and closed eyes lifted my penis under my shorts and pulled me toward her. Unconsciously, my hand reached down, lifting my shorts' loose leg, freeing my once again erect and eager penis. In my mind, I saw myself feeding her my cock, fucking her mouth until I came down her throat... until I felt the guilt of raping her again consuming my soul.
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"No!" I spoke aloud, "I can't do it... I won't do it," ripping the pendant from my neck, throwing it at the bed next to her nakedness.
I staggered back, Laila's deep, dark, blue eyes opened, and she looked up at me; she saw me.
No shock, no recoil, no rapid covering of her breasts or groin, just upside-down disappointment.
"You're not supposed to speak," she reprimanded from her face-up position on the bed, "You're supposed to use me, take me whenever you want. To fuck me, cum on me, in me, over and over... anything you want, any hole you want, but you're not supposed to talk... I'm not supposed to talk... and what do you mean... you can't anymore... can't what?" she added with an unmistakable defiant, offended tone to her question."I can't let myself rape you anymore," I confessed, "That's what I came in here to tell you... the truth... what you didn't know."
I took a quick deep breath before telling her my story, "A gypsy gave me an aphrodisiac... Aries' Horn and I used it on you. I used it so I could use you... to use your body, your sex without you knowing I was. I shouldn't have. It was wrong... it is wrong... and I'm sorry. I won't do it again... I'll never touch you again. I promise... I won't allow my lust for you to take me over again.... I'll get myself castrated if you want me to... you're my best friend, and I don't want sex to fuck up we have."
"I do," Laila cursed, then muttering in such a way I could not understand her as she turned off the massager between her legs. She then rolled off the bed, standing up, aiming her full, glorious nakedness at me. My hand released the edge of my shorts, and my penis deflated almost instantly, retracting behind its cloth shield like a turtle's head retreating into its shell.
Glaring at me, she chastised, "Do you know how long it took me to come up with a way to find out if you wanted to have sex with me... if you loved me as much as I love you?"
She exhaled harshly, then drew in an angry breath before she continued, "To write that damn poem, god, that took a week, and it's worse than the stuff I had to write in sixth grade. Then, to have to get into your email every day without you knowing to pull Mistress Alla-i's emails out of your spam folder. Oh, and the favor I owe my friend... you're helping me find her a boyfriend as good as you are," Laila demanded with an unusually insistent tone, then muttering, "It's glaringly obvious I don't know how to."
Her demeanor changed when I stammered, "You moved the emails from Mistress Alla-i... you sent me to her... you wanted me to have Aries' Horn?"
"I was so worried you'd figure it out," her tone softened, sounding relieved her secret was out as she added, "I thought Alla-i being an anagram of Laila was too obvious."
"I didn't see it," I confessed, "I mean... I never knew you liked me that way... and wanting you was all I could think about sometimes... me wanting you, but you not wanting me... you know... that way... Especially after Mr. Dick-head broke up with you."
My brain paused for a moment, needing time to process what she had said and what I had just said without filtering my thoughts first.
"That's when I knew," she replied meekly, looking away, "After you talked me down after Richard broke up with me. The way you stayed with me, took care of me... making me watch movies with you until I fell asleep next to you. And the game tournament you came up with to distract me from my heartbreak. The one I know you lost on purpose."
I heard her take a slow deep breath before she continued, "Fuck, even your pool-side service, bringing me drinks and snacks just to check on me when I was sunbathing alone. You took me shopping, for god sakes... like you were one of my girlfriends... you made sure I was taking care of myself... something I couldn't do for myself for a while."
Laila looked up at me. Her intense blue eyes were kissing my soul when she said, "That's when I realized I had been chasing the wrong kind of man. That's when I knew in my heart, the best man for me, the man who knew me better than anyone other than my mom... someone who knew me and was willing to stay with me despite my stupidity, was already living under the same roof as me."
"You can't mean that," my lack of self-esteem replied, "You are so far out of my league... I'm playing T-Ball, and you're in the World Series."
"That's not true," she pushed back, "I'm not out of your league... I never was... you're out of mine... you're too nice of a guy to want someone like me." Cursing herself as she declared, "I'm a cock hungry slut, and I don't know how to love a man as wonderful and kind as you are... you're the one who's too good for me."
"You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," I replied honestly, "So beautiful, you should be hanging off the arm of the richest man in the world."
"I don't want the richest man in the world," she countered, "Not anymore. I want someone who accepts me for who I am and cares for me anyway... as you do... I want you. I have for so very long, but you ignored all of my signals, so I had to do something... something desperate, something stupid."
I stammered through several brain-farts as I questioned, "Wait... all of this was... a prank? And, what signals?" once again, replying honestly, "I didn't see any signals from you that you were interested in me... none at all."
"Duh," she replied, "Sunbathing outside your window in the most reveling bikinis I could find... do I look like I need a tan? Hell, I barely wear anything when it's just you and me in the house. What about my extra-long showers so you could take pictures of me naked... Yeah, I know about the door gap on your side of the bathroom. And, just so you know, it's not easy letting you see me naked without mom knowing... and think about it, when was the last time I went out on a date... with anyone? And, how about those stupid movies you watch... the ones I watch with you? Even when mom and dad are here for family TV night, I always made sure you and I share the same couch."
"Fuck," she cursed again, her eyes looking back down and starting to water, "I just wanted to feel you next to me... it's the only time I can fall asleep sometimes, feeling you next to me... and now... now I want to feel you inside me, too... please."
"You want me?" I responded disbelievingly, "You want to have sex with me?"
"I want to make love to you," she replied as honestly and sincerely as I had ever heard her before, "To share my love for you, with you, the only way I know. I want you so badly it hurts inside my chest. I was breaking my own heart, wanting you to love me. I was in so much pain inside; I tried to trick you into having sex with me."
Looking up at me, a disappointed smile on her face as she offered, "April Fools."
After a long uncomfortable silence, I questioned, "Aries' Horn?"
"It's a myth I found on the Internet," she replied quietly, "And the pendant is a piece of junk jewelry I got in middle school... we were the Rolling Hills Rams," she explained.
Laila then puffed disappointedly, "It was stupid, I know, thinking I could trick you into letting me show you how much I love you... I mean... you took so long... so fucking long to contact Mistress Alla-i. So long I had given up hope you wanted me as more than your step-sister and friend... until my friend at the real estate company called to tell me you had picked up the box... my god, I never felt... so... wanted. For the past two days, my heart has been skipping a beat every time I saw you looking at me... I couldn't wait for mom and dad to leave."
Laili referring to my dad and her mom collectively was a rarity. She always referred to my dad by his name, just like I called her mom, Rose. There was something incestually suggestive and taboo hearing Laila referring to them as 'our' parents.
That moment of perverse insight disappeared just as fast as it manifested.
"The box looked so real," I suggested, "Like an antique... it seemed so genuine."
"It might be an antique. It's a jewelry box I found at a garage sale," Laila replied.
Everything suddenly clicked into place as my mind re-heard everything she said and had done over the past few days, all with a new perspective and an insightful context, "You set this up... as an April Fools day prank to get me to have sex with you... to show me you loved me the only way you knew how to... with your body."
I paused, feeling my face contort from the disbelieving confusion I verbalized, "Did you just say you love me?"
"I did... I do," Laila cooed, her tan face and chest blushing for the first I could remember since meeting my future step-sister at the front door, something that seemed ages ago. Her abnormally meek and confidence-lacking reply seemed to question her perceptions as she pleaded, "I thought you love me too."
"I do," I nodded, "I mean... I wasn't sure... not until I realized I had raped you... twice... and I couldn't live with that hanging over me. Knowing I had violated the woman I loved... that's why I came in here to... to tell you what happened... to confess to drugging you, using you, and to promise I would never do anything like that again."
"Ohh... fuck," she started to cry, "Just when I thought I couldn't love you any more than I already do," rushing forward, wrapping her nude body around mine, embracing me as she whimpered, "Then you had to go and say, and do something like that."
"Like what?" I questioned, savoring the feeling of her naked back under the palms of my embracing hands, my starving soul feeding on her willing embrace, which helped me resist the temptation to cup her perfect ass in my hand.
"You defended my honor," Laila cooed, squeezing me tighter, burying her face in my neck. She suckled on my skin while muttering, "You put me first; no-one except mom has ever done anything like that for me. I'm a broken whore, and you're my knight in shining armor... just like in a romance movie... you saved me from myself, even after I tried to trick you into being my lover."
"You're not a whore. You're just lonely for love... trust me, I understand how that feels. And, you didn't trick me wanting to be your lover," I replied honestly.
Another lightbulb clicked on in my brain. In my mind, I saw all the times Rose had publicly, or at least under our roof, begged or maybe demanded dad's affections. Demonstrating her love for him with her sex. A characteristic she had passed on to her daughter, Laila.
I squeezed Laila tighter as I suggested, "As long as you let me take care of your... sexual affection needs, you'll never be a whore in my eyes... you'll be my forever lover."
"Fuck me," she pleaded into my neck, then pulled away, "No," she changed her mind. "I want to suck on your cock. When you ate my pussy in the living room, you gave me the most intense orgasm I've ever had... and I want to do the same for you... all the time. Please let me suck on you and play with your cock. I love feeling a cock in my hands, pressed to my face and in my mouth. I cum the hardest when one is in my ass, but you can fuck my cunt whenever you want. And, I promise I will suck you off as often as you want, and I will swallow every drop, then you can fuck me until you cum again... I am a whore, a slut, your slut, I need to share my sex with the man I love, and I know it... I want to be your sex-pet... I do... please... let me show you how much I love you the only way I know how... let me let you use me so I can show you how much I love you."
Her face glowed when she felt my cock rising under my shorts, pushing into her naked groin as I replied, "If we go down this path... there's no going back. Have you ever heard the phrase don't feed a cat; it will always come back?"
"I have, and I'm your pussy now," she grinned, "I'm going to keep you well-fed with my pussy, and you're going to feed me your cock just as often."
Without another word, she dropped to her knees, pulling my shorts down as she settled on her legs in front of my revived erection.
She smiled up at me, professing, "You have the most beautiful cock I've ever seen. It's perfect... not so thick you're going to rip open my ass; and long enough to kiss my uterus when you fuck my cunt."
Laila caressed my erect penis, using her hand to move it around from side to side, then up and down, cupping my balls, studying my groin in much the same way I had studied her's earlier.
Laila's tongue traced my penis from the bottom to top, licking and kissing away the bubble of pre-cum at the tip. She looked up at me, directing, "You don't have to be silent anymore. I want to hear you when I make you cum... I want to make you grunt and groan just like you made me scream... twice today... It's been so hard to keep myself quiet when I masturbate thinking about today... now I don't have to anymore."
I grunted just like she wanted, mostly because I didn't have a choice when she swallowed half of my cock. The other half embraced by her stroking hand. I know my step-sister is a slut, a very skilled and experienced slut, but now she's my slut, and I couldn't be happier.
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"You're my first," I offered lovingly, caressing her dark hair.
She held my cock, freeing her mouth just long enough to look up at me, smiling as she replied, "I know, and I'm honored... I am... and you know I'm not..." she didn't finish what she was about to say.
"I do," I nodded, "And I don't mind at all...but," forced to inhale deeply as her mouth found and consumed my cock again, "We're going to need to agree to some rules."
"Later," she muttered from her erection-filled mouth, pulling back just enough to suckle on the head of my cock as her hand tightened her stroking grasp.
I wasn't lying when I said she was my first. I had never had someone suck my cock before, and what Laila was doing to me was a mind-bending, eye-watering experience. My hand caressing her hair stiffened, cruelly pulling her head down my shaft, forcing my cock to the back of her throat as my hips instinctively thrust forward. Her tongue action was amazing, beyond anything I had imagined. Her hand cupping and caressing my balls milked a climax from me far sooner than I would have liked.
Laila must have felt my balls twitching; she forced her head back against my hand just far enough she could take a breath, then slammed her throat around the head of my cock. I felt the cum in my balls struggling to escape, but she had a finger pressing to my scrotum in just the right place to prolong and intensify my ejaculation. My hips desperately thrust my cock against the back of her mouth, and my hand on her head tried to force her face deeper into my furry groin. Her free hand pushed one of my hips away, and she took another breath just as I ejaculated. The first glob hit the side of her mouth, then Laila swallowed my spitting cock. Literally, I could feel the back of her throat massaging the head of my cock as I squirted a near-continuous stream of cum directly into her throat.
I also grunted loudly and proudly, just as she wanted me to.
I can't remember cumming that much or for that long, and she held her face to my groin, allowing me all the time I needed to finish. Laila continued to force her throat to swallow over and over. Each contraction was massaging the head of my cock, and in conjunction with her fingers milking my seed-sacks, I started to feel my insides contracting, imploding. My balls were empty, completely spent, and yet she tried to get more and more out of me even though her tanned complexion had started to pale from the lack of oxygen in her lungs.
She pulled away, gasping and expressing a glowing grin of satisfaction when she looked up at me. Her hand lifted to her face, and then her index finger casually swept the strand of cum next to her lips into her mouth while her beautiful blue eyes stared up at me. After sucking the tip of her finger clean, she proudly declared, "All gone." Opening her mouth to demonstrate she had swallowed my entire load before adding, "That's one of the reasons why I like sucking cock so much. There's no mess to clean-up if I do it right... that and the feeling of a man's penis... your penis filling my mouth is so... comforting."
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She settled a little on her legs, spreading open her knees, and I realized her other hand was massaging her cunt as she declared, "Step-brother, you are the best I've ever tasted."
I wasn't sure how to respond to that, so I smiled down at her, nodding my head as I suggested, "Can I help you with what you're doing?"
"You never need to ask again," she replied, taking my hand to help her stand up, "Ever... and I mean that."
Laila paused, staring at me with her intense blue eyes for a moment before quietly confessing, "That's something I want from you... to... make me feel loved by... using me. By taking me... taking my sex whenever you feel like it. I enjoy sex... far more than I probably should... but it's more than that... I need to know... I need..."
"Reaffirmation," I suggested.
"Yeah," her face and deep blue eyes glowed, "I need reaffirmation that you love me... all the time... so... will you... will you promise to let me let you use me?"
"I need reaffirmation too," I replied, "I need you to remind me over and over again that's what you want from me... that you want me to... show you my love for you, by loving you the way you want to be loved."
Laila didn't reply; she pulled the shirt I was wearing off, then pulled me to her bed. She pulled my hand to her groin as she laid down, then pulled my cock to her mouth after dangling her head over the edge of the bed.
Looking up at me from below my softening cock, she commanded, "Finger me the same way you did in the living room, and I'm going to suck your cock until you're hard enough to fuck my cunt and cum in my ass."
Without waiting for me to reply, she kissed the tip of my cock, smiling as she promised, "You have no idea what you just signed up for as my boyfriend and lover... but I'm going to show you... over and over again."
Licking my cock from below, I could feel the air pushing past her lips as she whispered, "Love born the same day will always find a way." She then reached around, pulled my hips toward her face, swallowing my entire mostly limp penis without strain or struggle.
No fantasy I had created in my mind (or masturbated to) came close to what lay before me. The most beautiful woman I'd ever seen, the woman I had recently realized I loved, was spread out on her bed, naked, gifting herself to me. Her face swallowing my cock, her fur capped cunt grinding on my hand, and her magnificent mammaries spread out before me, proudly aiming her thick hard nipples at me.
I had to take a step closer to steady myself and reach her butterflied groin without snapping my elbow. She helped, raising her feet into the air, separating them as wide as she could. Laila's hands released my hips, using just her mouth to suck on my cock as she pulled her legs back, then under her arms. Like a twisted and contorted Barbie Doll, Laila opened her treasures to me. Giving me full and unrestricted access to all of her, especially her trembling rose pedals and winking brown-eye.
I leaned forward, my cock going even deeper into her accommodating mouth. My hand and wrist twisted, and my middle finger slipped into her cunt with even greater ease than it had in the living room. Her insides throbbed, clenched, and massaged my finger as I slowly watched my fingers moving it in and out of her inflamed flower. Every deep dive into her that my finger made echoed as a moan around my cock in her mouth.
My other hand sought out and found one of her breasts, massaging her squishy flesh between its fingers, hungrily digging into her weighty gelatinous mounds. The finger I had in her cunt, withdrew, and I replaced it with a thumb, fucking her cunt like it was another cock attached to my body as my pussy lubed middle finger circled and probed her puckered and pulsating asshole.
I felt her talking to my cock, or around it. I could not understand what she was begging for, but I knew what I wanted to do to her; again. My finger slowly, intentionally unhurried, poked, then pushed into her sealed cave, opening her anal ring despite its natural resistance. I repeatedly pushed my slimy finger in, then pulled it out, enthralled by her sphincter resisting my penetration, folding itself inward, then clinging to my finger, clamped tightly around my knuckle, distending itself as I withdrew.
I watched my middle finger's unhurried anal infiltrations and evacuations with fascination, while at the same time, my thumb explored the depths of her frictionless petaled dark-red rose. Each time, my thumb and finger finding, and circling the secret button I had discovered between her rectum and vagina. Intentionally avoiding pinching it until I was ready too.And, as you might imagine, I wanted to savor and enjoy the gift Laila had given me, and maybe my ego had something to prove; I took my time... a long time. Maybe too long, somehow wanting to pay her back for temping, taunting, and torturing me, going so long without letting me know how she felt about me... about us.
Laila's body twisted, squirmed and I was able to make her thighs quiver, then stop, intentionally tormenting and sexually abusing the woman I loved, guilt-free. I could feel the disappointment in the way her body relaxed, and her throat moaned on my cock each time I took her close to a peak, then denied her satisfaction. At least until my cock reawakened, eager and ready to replace my thumb and finger.
My ego was also stroked by her body convulsing when she gagged (now and then) on my hardening cock. So, I granted her the release her moaning pleas begged for while taking a half step closer, forcing her to take my cock even deeper into her throat.
My breast massaging hand retreated, falling back until two fingers found and held hostage her thick, erotically hard, nipple. At the same time, my thumb and finger attacked her secret button.
Simultaneously, her thighs quivered, the muscles in her arms clenched, her breathing shifted from rapid pants to full inhales around my throat-filling cock. Just as fast as her lungs filled, they released long, powerful, muffled screams vibrating through the entire length of my cock, tickling my balls on the other end. It was all I could do to continue to massage her unseen button as her body, hips, legs, and arms twitched, trembled, and lurched randomly. The already copious amount of feminine lube tripled or quadrupled, coating my fingers, hand, and Laila's groin, including her ass, with a thick layer of slippery sex juice.
The sex opera Laila's vocal cords sang around my cock expanded my already full erection, and whatever her tongue had been doing seemed to have stimulated my balls to refill my sperm reserves in record time.
Laila's body continued to quiver and tremble as I withdrew my cock from her mouth, then spun her around on the bed like a limp pillow as she gasped for air. Before she was aware enough to release her pinned legs, my hands kept her ankles locked in their full upright position.
I floated my cock above her glistening cunt, staring at her, waiting until her deep blue eyes indicated the oxygen-deprived orgasmic stupor I had induced was fading away. My cock pulsated as I slid its firmness into the valley of her inflamed labia. I could feel her inner lips kissing the underside of my shaft when her eyes opened.
Blue flames of passion burned in her eyes as Laila begged and pleaded with me, "Please... fuck me... fill my holes... they are your holes... fuck me... I need to feel you inside me... cum in me... please... make me your slut... I need to be your sex-toy... I need you to use me... please use me."
Her voice seemed to grow higher and more desperate the longer I waited. Her hips kept trying to make her cunt kiss and swallow the head of my cock, which made the eye of my cock kiss her clit, several times and, in turn, made her whole body twitch, amplifying her desperate pleas.
"You're mine now," I directed.
Her head nodded, and her eyes agreed, as I commanded, and confirmed, "I get to use you anytime I want... no resistance, no recriminations, no denials... and no guilt."
"Yes, yes, yes," she cried, "I need you to use me... I need to feel used to feel loved... I want to be used by you... please love me!"
I looked down and watched as my cock slipped a little deeper between her lips, once, then twice, before finding the edge of her vagina and the necessary leverage I needed to penetrate her for the first time; any woman for the first time.
When I did, my entire body clenched. I could feel my cock sliding into Laila's pulsating and contracting cunt across every part of my skin and more. My balls spasmed but did not climax, and my cock throbbed, getting a little thicker inside her, pulsating even more of my leaking precum into her.
The feeling of her cunt around my cock made me feel as if my entire body had penetrated her, not just my erect penis. A warm embrace seemed to engulf me; body, mind, and soul. My hips naturally began to thrust in and out, slowly at first, then more and more anxious to inject my seed into her womb. I felt myself leaning forward, pressing my chest to hers until our mouths met. I tried to kiss her, but her open, puffing, panting whimpers prevented anything more than our teeth bumping. Nevertheless, I licked her lips until her tongue ventured out to tangle with mine.
Feeling my cock inside Laila did many things to me on many levels. Some far too complex for this medium to convey with any level of legitimacy. However, as I felt my body's frantic need to inject my seed as deep into her womb as possible, I had an epiphany.
The male Angler fish is tiny compared to the female. It survives just long enough to attach itself to a female by inserting his penis to the appropriate receptacle, then permanently attaching himself to her. In some species, the females eventually absorbed the male, making him a part of her body. The male ceases to exist, except as a packet of sperm to be used at her discretion. In other sub-species, the males remain affixed ether as an appendage or pulled into her body for protection; in either case, he spends the rest of his life in a permanent state of coitus until death.
That what I wanted; my lust had turned into an hungered love, wanting to push my penis so deep inside her, locking myself in place, then merging into her flesh as the male angler fish does to the female. I would be ok with shriveling up and dying, knowing I would always be a part of her, and no man could ever follow where I had gone. Even if it meant I would cease to exist, as long as I could retain the feeling of her vagina engulfing and massaging my penis while the head of my penis kissed her uterus forever.
Forever never comes, but I did.
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I couldn't stop myself after her high-pitched stuttering pleas begged me to cum inside her, to "fill her with my love." My balls throbbed, my cock pulsated, and my brain drowned in a bath of hormones and pleasure chemicals unmatched by any self-induce climax I had experienced before.
Laila sucking my cock and me squirting my load into her throat was extraordinary and trivial compared to feeling myself cumming inside Laila's vagina for the first time. Feeling her sweaty flesh pressed to mine, her feet next to my ears, her arms entangled around my neck, pulling my huffing mouth to her panting mouth as she continued to beg me to cum inside her made our first time together even better than I had hoped.
As I relaxed into her sweaty embrace, followed by her tongue spelunking the depths of my mouth, I felt myself melting into her, just as I imagined I might if we were Anglers.
But we're not, and she wasn't done, which meant I had more to do.
"Fuck my ass," her mono-eyed face demanded, "Cum in my ass... please... I need to feel you stretching my ass open... I need to feel you owning me... make me yours... fuck my ass and cum inside me... deep inside me... I don't need to cum again... I need you to cum inside me... cum in my ass... please make me feel like I need to be used by you."
I don't know how, but my cock was still hard, and the need Laila projected seemed to be more than something lustful, kinky, or perverted. I quickly assumed something had happened to her in her past; someone had hurt her in such a way she needed anal sex like most people wanted or needed a hug or a kiss. Having realized earlier that day, I loved Laila despite her flaws or past. With the same kind of instant awareness I had when I realized I loved Laila, I instantly knew and accepted I would have to do things to her and with her, sexually, to reaffirm my love for her.
"If she needs me to cum in her ass," I told myself, "I will give her what she wants as often as I can."
I pushed myself off her, unwillingly extracting my penis from her vagina, holding it in place as I slid the head of my cock across her taint, kissing her dark, still throbbing asshole after she pulled her legs back rolling her butt up to ease my access.
Ok, I will admit it. I like watching anal porn. My favorite part is the initial penetration. Seeing a man's penis forcing its way into a woman's back door exit, making her sphincter retreat, resisting and recoiling from the forced penetration until it had no choice but to open up and accommodate the insistent visitation of an intruder. To me, the process is even better when the man pulls back, her anal ring clinging to his shaft, attempting to prevent his cock's withdrawal, stretching outward to prevent its captive from escaping. And I get off replaying the part where the head of his cock pops past her inner muscles, and all resistance stops. It's a point of no return, where his cock is free to move about and around inside her rectum, her anal ring unable to prevent his cock from going as deep as possible without worrying about bruising her uterus.
I was looking forward to seeing and feeling all of those things, and I was not disappointed.
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Laila's anal ring offered less resistance than I expected, and it was far tighter around my shaft than I thought possible. What was beyond her sphincter's grasp felt very similar to her cunt, but different at the same time. I wanted to take my time, to enjoy and savor this new experience, but her vocal exasperations overrode my patience. Once again, Laila begged and pleaded for me to fuck her ass until I came inside her. Both her pitch and tone sounding very much like a young child petitioning for a new toy. Her brilliant and formerly confident blue eyes lacking any self-respect as she demanded I treat her like the slut she saw herself as and use her for my pleasure.
My physically exhausted body was in no condition to satisfy my lover's needs. Still, my mental awareness, my feeling for her, demanded I give her what she insisted she needed, to use her the way Laila needed to feel used, so she could feel as if she were giving herself to me.
And, truth be told, I knew she was a slut some time ago, and I wanted her to remain a slut... my slut. She was a slut in my fantasies, she was a self-confessed slut in real life, and now she had committed to being my slut, and sex toy and all I had to do was shove my cock into her ass and cum inside her whenever I felt like it.
As you can imagine, seeing her naked before me, her legs folded back, granting me unrestricted access to her defenseless ass; that and the intoxicating aroma of our mixed sweat and sex made me want the same thing she did.
An animalistic need to inject my seed into her rectum fogged everything around me. Everything except the feeling of my cock being strangled by her anal ring as I snaked myself as deep into her rectum as possible, just before I used her the way she wanted me to.
With my cock remaining embedded inside her ass, I backed off the edge of the bed, bringing her with me. With my feet on solid ground, I held her legs up and closed, pushing her knees to her face as I jack-hammered my cock into her ass. Any sense of loving tenderness vanished, replaced by an alpha-male I did not recognize, and yet, I let this unfamiliar perverse lust monster drive anyway.
My sore cock remained fully inflated inside Laila's ass as I relentlessly rammed my love muscle into her. Her screaming pleas to fuck her harder, to go deeper, to cum inside her spurred me on to do the impossible, to push past the exhaustion trying to defeat me. In defiance of the fatigue spreading like cancer throughout my body, I sped up my efforts and demanded my hips push deeper and my cock stretch further.
I heard myself grunting and groaning loud, growling uncontrollable huffs and puffs of masculinity aimed directly at Laila's cunt and ass. I've never had an issue with my manhood; I knew what I was, who I was, and I was comfortable with my ability to manage the influence testosterone had on my common sense.
However, at that moment, I lost myself; I was no longer me. I found myself becoming a detached observer. What used to be me was no longer me. I had become a sexual predator, an ass ravager, a physically advantaged penetrator subduing and dominating the penetrated; Laila. I also ignored the tickle of guilt in the back of my sex-craved mind until I felt, then saw Laila pressing her electric massager to her cunt.
That's when her screaming orgasms penetrated the fog of lust, pulled me back into my briefly detached body. Her harmonious pained, and pleasured screams also released the few remaining drops of cum in my testicles to mix with the residue from my depleted prostate. The combined one or two cc's of liquid love bubbling out of my cock into her rectum as my hips thrust forth, holding my cock inside Laila's ass until the dry humping, fluidless spasms ceased.
Laila's eyes locked on mine as she continued to force her body to endure one orgasm after another, angrily making herself climax over and over again as she grunted at me, her anal-ring choking my cock in her ass.
I could see something I had missed before in her pained eyes; she hated that she enjoyed climaxing as much as she did, especially during anal sex. But I also saw something else just beyond that self-hatred; she loved me and loved cumming for me or with me. Pleasuring herself as I watched, or allowing herself to receive pleasure from me, or climaxing when I used her to pleasure myself somehow made her feel loved.
She was right.