Valentine’s Candy: Open Wide

He caught her upper lip again; sucking it between his before again tracing its curves with his tongue. He felt her lips part and he allowed his tongue to ever so gently tease the sensitive inner side of her lip.

He felt her tense slightly at the intrusion, so withdrew the touch but still held her head in place. He was surprised when he felt her tiny tongue reach out and trace along his upper lip in imitation. He made sure that her tongue would slightly meet his as it finished its path. He moaned encouragingly when she passed over it in a slow, slick glide.

When she pulled back, his hand continued to caress her hair, but did not resist her retreat at all.

Her eyes looked nervous, unsure. “Did I do okay?”

He stroked from her temple down over her cheek and jawline. “Much more than okay. How did that feel?”

Her face lit up as she grinned. “Wonderful. Can that really be my first kiss?”

“Is it the first time you kissed anyone?”

“Yes.”

“Then it’s your first kiss. Probably better not to tell people it was with your brother.”

“Stepbrother, but you’re probably right about that. I wasn’t going to tell anyone cuz you’re just a high school boy. So, I guess it’ll be our secret?”

“Sure. Our secret, nerd.” He traced her beautiful lips with one gentle fingertip. He felt a pulse in his groin when she caught his finger between those beautiful lips for an instant, unable to avoid seeing them wrapped around the tip of his cock rather than his fingertip. “But only if I can be your second kiss too.”

“I think I’d like that.” Her mouth parted expectantly, gazing up at him.

He again rubbed his nose along hers. “But we should walk a little bit more. Let that first one settle in.”

She gave a little whine and flashed her pout at him again, but couldn’t hold it. She felt too good, too fluttery giddy inside. He hoped the break would help his cock calm down. No sense scaring her with that thing yet.

He took her arm like a gentleman and guided her down the path. The brains of boys and girls do not work the same. Nor do any two people. But at that moment, both Valentine and Candy’s minds were awhirl with what had just happened. Both battled what to do when a sweet attractive sibling, totally unavailable, became someone more. A potential lover, even if ‘lover’ held different connotations for the two.

Candy definitely had sexual feelings, just precious little sexual knowledge. She simply did not believe what her searches had portrayed on the internet. Those huge…things sliding impossibly far into mouth, vagina (‘pussy’ they called it, among other things), and even anus had to be CGI.

Even if they weren’t real, the images still encouraged stirrings in her belly and lower. For a long time, the pressure of those stirrings would build up inside her until she couldn’t hold still. Sometimes she would touch her own vagina (pussy, clit!), but that only intensified the torture.

Usually it was worst at night, awake in bed. She knew the engorged penis was inserted in the vagina (‘the hard cock in her cunt!’ – for some reason, she found the four letter colloquialisms highly arousing), her imagination simply could not apply it to herself.

An accident had led to discovering the first way she had found to relieve the torturous tension. An early Saturday morning found her on her belly in bed, entirely unaware how attractive an observer would find her round firm bottom exposed thus to view.

Internet explorations late the night before had left her confused and turned on. Even though it made the torture worse, she couldn’t help the hand that had wedged under her to idly stroke and tease sensitive moist parts.

She decided to take a bath but the tension, the torture and the touching continued as she soaked in the warm scented water. Frustrated and unrelieved she stood to rinse off. She let the hot shower beat on her shoulders and back before turning. She removed the detachable head and let the hard massage setting pulse under her arms and against her small chest. Her nipples stuck out, hard and crinkled and tight, even though the water was hot.

She ran her free hand over her breasts, dragging her thumb over each hardened nub as the water hit them. The pressure inside was actually making her angry she was so frustrated. Still, she couldn’t stop the confusing thoughts that led to it or the touches that encouraged it.

Continuing to rinse off, she brought the pulsing jets of water down over her smooth belly. At the lower edge of her belly, the finest of colorless hairs formed an almost unnoticeable line from below her naval to where her Venus mons rose up. There they joined thicker but still fine hairs, a mix of light and darker browns, that sparsely covered her raised mound.

The hot water swept down over the hairs and pulsed directly toward her sensitive, swollen flower. As it did, her free hand followed down her belly, over her mons, until fingers again slid over her tender pussy.

Her first two fingers split apart as they slid under her, catching most of the initial hard pulses of water on the back of her hand. Her palm dragged down across the tender area that hid her clit. When it was a swollen hard button like it was now, with an apparent direct line to the torture going on in her gut, she had trouble thinking of it as her clitoris.

She slid her hand back upward, allowing the jets to pound into her exposed flesh. First, her lips were opened to them by her split fingers dragging them up and apart. She gasped as the tension seemed to expand inside her. Too much!

Then her palm finally ceased its upward massage, pulling the protective hood off of her clit and exposing the vulnerable button entirely. Her V-ed fingers framed it as the pulsing jets struck home.

She half-leaned half-fell against the stone slab wall of the shower before her back arched all but her shoulders and head back away from it. The tension was truly torture now. She cried out, unable to bare the sensation. Where before it had felt a little like a huge watch spring in her belly being wound tighter and tighter, now her entire body was the spring.

Her body rigid, locked in an arch from feet to head, she somehow still held her agonized clit exposed, fingers still pulling herself open, as the powerful beads of water massaged her, pounded her, tortured her. A colloquial expression she knew but had never before spoken escaped her lips without conscious intent.

“Fuck me. Fuck me hard.” Like a magic incantation requiring the final invocation, the magic words ended her torture and in the most wonderful way. She exploded.

Erupted. Orgasm had always seemed an odd word, and did not describe the experience at all. Climax was closer.

She was blinded by light, unaware if she screamed or cried. The torture ended by become in so intense it released as irresistible wave after wave of pure pleasure surging through her every cell. She eventually slipped, limp and exhausted, down the slick stone wall to sit on the edge of the tub, chest heaving, heart pounding in her ears.

She giggled to herself before voicing her thought out loud. “I think I like cumming.”

Those short, Anglo-Saxon sounding word just seemed right for how she felt. Fuck! She had just cum with the shower head pointed right on her tender clit and cunt. The words made her smile now, still light headed from the intensity of her experience.

Her handsome stud of a stepbrother’s kiss had started to wind the spring tight.

While Valentine hoped the continued stroll through formal hedges and topiary would relax his straining cock, his thoughts also whirled in the aftermath of his stepsister’s first real kiss, and not in ways that distracted his arousal.

She was so gorgeous, so sweet, and so innocent. He could still taste a hint of some kind of mint from her tongue and breath. Still smell a hint of her conditioner wafting to him as he had stroked her silky blond hair. He almost grimaced as his cock twitched painfully. When it had expanded as they kissed, it had unfortunately forced its way up under his belt where it was now trapped.

The images in Valentine’s head were much clearer than Candy’s. Thanks mainly to two older women, the twenty-something wife of a lacrosse coach and the rather forward friend of his mother’s in her thirties, he had more sexual experience than most of his peers.

His experiences with girls his own age were more limited. They seemed to like him, and to enjoy kissing and touching. Until they became aware of his cock. In the locker room, he got teased. Drinking smuggled beers one night, a teammate had exclaimed, “Seriously, dude. That thing is bigger hanging limp than mine is standing up hard. And Mary Lynn has trouble taking me inside.”

It was true. The three girls who had felt it through his pants had been horrified and wanted nothing to do with it. The coach’s wife had been a set up. He found out later the coach liked to hide himself and watch his sexy wife have sex, and they had been looking for an opportunity for her to take a really big cock. The teammate’s teasing was overheard. imgur.com/9Ve38As

“Bill said the other lacrosse players have some interesting nicknames for you.” The dark haired beauty had commented to him.

Val had blushed, thrown off by being invited over to the coach’s house to discuss his college scholarship prospects, and finding himself instead alone with the man’s wife. Mrs. Malone was hot, liked to dress to show it off, and was looking at him now like he was dessert.

She was tall with a very slim figure which led to the locker room conclusion that her sizable tits had to be fake. Perfect, and lusted for by many, but fake.

He had accepted the offered bottle of water. She had apologized profusely for the time mix up, lightly resting her hand on his forearm as she did. Coach was a county over watching a competitor’s game. She has been working out when he knocked.

Confused as to how to answer, Valentine’s thoughts weren’t helped by the sight of the woman turned away from him, reaching into the refrigerator for a second bottle for herself. Her dark hair was tied back and hung to the middle of her back.