The Tales From The Tavern I Lied To You
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The Tales From The Tavern: Anything, You Say? free porn video
“Who's in for another round?” Big ol' Tom, the bartender, offered.
Leaning over his half empty pint, his glass eye immobilized while the intact one stared at big ol' Tom, the elder of the only two guests replied: “Still nuthin' goin' on tonight, huh? An' I c'mere to listen to sum good stories, just like the ol' days.”
“Well...” said big ol' Tom, “tonight's a bit of a shame, sure. But these calm nights usually do offer the best stories” He paused. “Not this time, as it seems, though..” He turned his head to his younger guest. “And you, son? No story to tell either?”
The young lad slightly, yet reluctantly shook his head no. He pressed his lips together, his eyes looking down to his empty glass.
“So either I give you another round, my friends, or I'm afraid I'll close the tavern for tonight,” sighed big ol' Tom.
“But wasn't that the deal?” the elder man asked, “we tell ya stories an' you hand us them drinks to hammer down while we talkin'. Cuz tellin' them stories makes thirsty.”
“ Sure, you're right, Marshal. But tonight's kind of an exception, I guess.” Big ol' Tom stood up. “So last round for tonight... On the house.” He kept on murmuring while walking out of the dim light of the table lamp to the bar: “Maybe I should have called it the tavern ' the dirtier, the better' instead of ' the place where stories are told'.”
“Wait, what did you just say?” intervened the younger guest. “Dirty? That kind of rings a bell.”
Both Marshal and big ol' Tom where all ears all of a sudden, staring at the young man.
He resumed talking: “There actually is a story. I was just afraid it might be a little inappropriate. But since dirty is what you want, dirty is what I can offer you.”
“Lookie there, now who's been hidin' sumthin' here? So you got a nice piece a' story? Reckon we that's what we been waitin' for, yeah? That story better be long and exciting. Ain't been excited by them last stories no more. Them last folks was just too short of words for good narration. They is no good in telling stories no more, nowuttamsayin?” commented Marshal all the while big ol' Tom hurried to refill three glasses with his best draft beer.
“Don't worry, old man, I'm pretty damn sure you're going to enjoy that one, that is, if you're more into kinky stuff,” answered the young lad. “Oh man, this is really happening. I've been waiting like forever to finally get this off my chest.” He took a few deep breaths as if to make sure he wasn't fainting or simply dreaming. “Phew! Let me gather my thoughts a little.”
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I have sort of always lived in a rather chaotic family: My father, whom I often refer to as ' the asshole', had left my mother and me when I was in my early teens. Yes, I was fourteen, I think. He had found a barely legal slut during his midlife crisis and ran off with her. It only lasted a few months after all. Serves him right, but that's totally different story.
Anyhow... Guess what? His running off was a huge problem. My mother had been running the house while the asshole had been the director of a great company; lots of cash and so on and so forth. At least he left us our great villa that was worth pretty a deal of money. Unfortunately, we had to sell it to be able to survive, because given my mother hadn't had a proper formation, she encountered serious trouble in finding an actual job. On the bright side, the money from our villa bought us some extra time to find a good source of money.
It took me ages to get over it. I was traumatized. So I just barricaded myself behind my computer and became your typical nerd; the total opposite of attractive: unpopular with girls, not athletic at all. I had taken a lot of weight, what – of course – had incited the guys at school to bully me. That didn't help any either, for I found solace in eating even more. Bad choice!
At least my mother hadn't taken too much time to move in with a new boyfriend who she seemed pretty happy with. He was okay for me too. I was fine with him as my stepdad and he was okay with me as his stepson. However, he had a daughter named Lynne who was two years older than I was. A real pain in the ass, I tell you. She wouldn't miss a chance to pick on me. Not even at home did I have a break from being badgered, you see?
That was not the only problem: Ever since I had realized my stepsister was a real babe I couldn't take my eyes off her. It happened right after my sixteenth birthday: I ran into the bathroom while she was taking a shower. I liked what I was looking at – well, gawking at would be a more suitable expression, I guess –, but she obviously didn't like that so much. I still do wonder why... Nonsense!
Well, she may have forgotten to lock the bathroom door that day, but surely haven't I forgotten what she yelled at me.
I remember her shouting the exact words: “Get the fuck outta here, you fat perv!!!”
Ever since that day I'd masturbate while thinking of her. Sure, blame me, but what would you guys expect from a sixteen year old fatty? The more I did, the more I fell for that insupportable bitch. I even went to the gym on a regular basis to get in a healthier shape again... and maybe also a little to please her. Oh, who am I kidding? I wanted her to notice me, nothing more!
There was no way I'd ever understand that. It was bugging me over and over. What twisted kind of love had my heart gotten me into?
And what did she do? Of course she had noticed, and of course she used it to pick on me even more. Getting caught masturbating with one of her used panties wrapped around my dick didn't help any. She had left them right behind her wide-open door, exposed to everyone's look. What did she expect I'd do with them? Wash them, hang them out to dry, fold them neatly and put them in her drawer? And know what? After that unfortunate incident she still kept leaving them right there on the floor. Man, she practically asked me to misuse them to satisfy my hormone-driven sexual needs.
And to tease me even more she started wandering around the house in her hottest, sluttiest lingerie. A real witch, I tell you!
Things got even worse when she started to have what looked like millions of guys over anytime we had a free run of the house. This appeared to occur quite often, since we were old enough and my mother and her boyfriend loved to have some time off their children; on weekends mostly.
Whenever this was the case, Lynne would command me to get the fuck into my room and sit in front of my computer, adding a 'fat little nerd/piggy/fatty/pervo' – you name it – at the end of her orders.
“And don't you rat me out, you hear me, fucking wanker? Tell a single word and I'll punish you and you know I will.”
Did I mention she was a bitch? Do you now understand why my secret love to her – okay, not that secret, I admit – was nothing but a pain in the ass? Oh man, how I hated all of this.
The worst part of all this was that I could hear every noise, every moan through the thin walls that separated both our rooms. It was a real torture. Each time I hoped so bad the dickhead she was using that time would go – just go, nothing more. The sooner, the better.
I bet you guys wouldn't let all of this just slide, right? So did I. I made up my mind. I just needed to wait for the right occasion to make her pay once and for all. Remember I said I was a nerd? Why not use it against her? Her notebook was facing her bed, so I just needed to wait until she'd forget to turn that thing off on one of these days she had one of her poor catamites over. I bet you guys have heard of that tiny little lens built in every notebook on top of the screen called webcam , haven't you?
On that one fateful day, everything changed. It was one of these Fridays our parents would hang out the entire evening, and probably even get themselves a hotel room for the night. They were looking forward to listening to a show of some jazz pianist I had never heard of before, and they declared to be their mutual favorite, although never listening to any of his records. Parent's stuff and so on... Why make up a silly excuse to go do what so-called 'grown-ups' do? Seriously? They were really bad liars.
It was just one month after Lynne's 21st birthday.
“And remember, kids: Behave, and no friends over!” Mom said before leaving. Why did they still treat us like we were little kids? We had every goddamn right to do whatever the hell we wanted.
Back to the story!
The doorbell announcing Lynne's toy for that night rang so soon I wondered if that poor bastard had been hiding in the bushes in our garden. I went into my room before she could even start with her usual cascade of insults. As soon as I heard her close the bedroom door, I started my almost weekly work: check if her computer was still running – that is, try to hack into it.
And there it was: she had forgotten to turn it off! Finally the day I could make her pay for all she had ever done to me had come. Finally I could put my cruel little plan I had made up a few years back into execution. Through her webcam I had a clear look on her bed. There were – as expected – two people making out, fondling, touching, undressing. I watched them with great interest. Why not? The hottest girl I knew, about to spread her legs for that poor toy she'd discard right after he had epically failed at satisfying her.
I won't go into detail here. Not much to tell there anyway. Just your typical lo-fi tape with just-a-hint-more-than-vanilla-sex on it. Nothing really exciting. The guy shooting his load way too early. Barely enough material to get a semi boner, know what I mean?
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“Where are these free drinks anyway?” asked the young storyteller, before apologizing for his rude way of expression: “Oh, I'm sorry. Got a little carried away, I guess. I still kind of hold a grudge against her. Really sorry. May I have a refill of my pint?”
“Nevermind, son,” replied big ol' Tom who did his customer the favor of refilling his empty glass.
“Gotta admit, boy. That sum good stuff – ya story. Real nice lissnin' to ya. Can't wait to hear where ya be goin' with this,” commented Marshal.
“I hope you do, because now comes the exciting part, but first let me quench that thirst of mine a little.”
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I just had to wait until she threw her unsatisfying lover out.
“Get out, you useless piece of shit! You're even more worthless than my fat pig of a stepbrother!” she yelled, showing that poor naked devil the door.
She slammed the door so hard, the whole house vibrated. The door flung open a second time, and she threw her failed lover's clothes at him. Poor boy was humiliated; his manly pride was broken, or better: crushed into a million pieces. I could see him crying. Who hadn't seen that coming? He was a true misery. Although he clearly had it coming from the very beginning – considering my stepsister's social skills – I felt a little pity for that miserable creature.
As soon as he was dressed, I led him to our door, whispering soothing words to him. He went away still sniffing and trying to recollect his far gone masculinity.
Before knocking at Lynne's door, I got my own notebook from my room and opened my newest cinematographic acquisition.
A characteristic humming noise accompanied by Lynne's moans could be clearly heard coming from her room. No doubt about what she was doing there. I knocked anyway.
The answer came with her habitual hostility, spiced up with additional frustration about the renewed interruption in her carnal activities: “What do want, fucking pervo? You know exactly what I'm trying to do here!”
“Yes, I am,” I said while entering her room, “and know what? You forgot to turn your computer off, dear stepsister.”
“What the fuck are you doing in here? Get the fuck out!!”
She took her vibrator out of her dripping cunt, and threw it at me. Since I kind of saw this coming, I dodged it with ease.
She stood up, and looked at me, hesitantly looking at the screen of my notebook. “Wait... What do you mean by I didn't turn my computer off?”
“See for yourself.”
The picture quality was just good enough to recognize it was her room, and a guy was buried in her pussy balls deep. The caption at the lower right corner read the date and time of the record.
“How did you...? I swear, I'm going to kill you!!” She was in blank rage; hatred filled her eyes – more than usual.
“No, you're not,” I stated stoically, “'cause I'm gonna show this piece of evidence to your dad and my mom as soon as they come back. Unless...”
The expression of pure horror; no, better: of blank fear in her face – priceless! She sank on her knees, still naked.
“Please, I'll do anything, please, I beg you. Don't tell on me.”
“Anything, you say?” I paused to see her nod. “You've been a naughty girl, Lynne.” I heard the creepiness in my voice and I knew my grin was devilish. Seeing her beg like she did turned me on to no end. I really had to restrain myself from getting too carried away. “Then why don't you start by sucking that cock. And remember, you don't behave, I'll rat you out.”
Her eyes widened in shock. She wasn't used to be at someone's mercy. “No, please. Don't do that to me.”
I grinned sarcastically. “Why not? No, don't say it. You don't have to. You're free, but tell me... Would you rather have it sent to Mom by E-mail or by whatsapp? Wait... Or should I upload it to youporn right away?”
A tear fell down the corner of her eye.
“You know that crying isn't helping any. You just get what you deserve, whore! So now, would you please suck my dick – or shall I say monster?”
My cock indeed was monstrous. Not for the length – this was pretty average – it was the girth. It was as thick as my forearm, and she had seen that monster the day she had caught me masturbating into her panties, so she was well aware of what she had gotten herself into.
I couldn't really say if her facial expression was rather disgusted or amazed by the sight of my thick tube. But the way she sucked it... That was divine! Her licks over the underside of my shaft, her lips closing around the very head, her tongue teasing my balls, her hand stroking up and down the entire length, her soft, yet firm kisses all along this piece of meat. This girl just knew how to please a man. I knew she evidently enjoyed it at least as much as I did; her pussy was watering such copious amounts that her juices were dribbling down her thighs.
I interrupted her after a while, for I didn't want to waste my juice on merely a blowjob, right?
“I can see that you're pretty much enjoying this yourself as well,” I stated.
She looked at me with hate-filled eyes. She sentenced me to death with her hostile gaze.
“No, I'm just doing it because you make me, fucking prick!”
“You know that lying is futile, dear stepsister. So why even bother? You know what? Let's turn this whole game around a little.” I paused to let my words sink in. “Guess what. I won't fuck you unless you confess that you want to be pounded nice and hard by my throbbing monster.”
On that threat, her expression of pure hatred got slowly mixed up with the feeling of despair... I knew she had hoped she'd be able to turn the tide as I was giving in to the intense pleasures I'd be given by her watering cunt. Wrong! I could see she was experiencing a major disillusion. For the very first time, she was not in the position to pick on me like she always did. I really had her by the balls , as the expression goes.
Her hate made way for her desperation that filled her belly. I could see she felt truly humiliated by my abilities to read her like an open book.
“Yes,” she stumbled, “I... I want you... to... fuck me... with that... monstrous cock of yours. Will you give it to me?”
I acted as if I was thinking for a moment. “Let's see. I will... But... Only if you can swear that you've got nothing more you'd like to confess." I paused again. “So... Do you? Is that all there is?”
She slowly nodded, her eyes fixed to the floor, but staring into the nothingness of desperation.
“Really? Is there nothing more you'd like to tell me?”
She slowly shook her head no.
“Look into my eyes, Lynne, and tell me there's nothing more you'd like to confess.”
She tried to do as ordered, but failed: “There is... nothing...” she paused before she bursted out in tears. “Fuck, I love you!”
“Wait... What was that?” I asked, incredulous of what I believe I had just heard.
“I love you, Matt!” was her brief answer.
I really did play with the thought of making her repeat it over and over, as a matter of satisfaction. I liked the sound of these words, plus it humiliated her even more. But no...
“Seriously? Is that how you think you can still turn the tables? Really? That's cheap, Lynne. It also hurts my feelings, and you know that.”
“No, Matt, please. I really do love you, please. I've wanted you for so long.”
I maintained my dominant attitude even if I had to muster all my concentration on not to let myself go into an outburst of rage. “Now that's something that came unexpected. And how for fuck's sake do you want me to believe this sort of shit?”
As a reply, Lynne gave me her declaration of defeat, by completely opening her heart to me. It was even better than my first intention to have her repeat her confession over and over again: “Why the hell do you think I always left my worn panties lying on the ground in full display of anyone passing by my room? They were for you! I secretly was hoping you will jerk off in them. And why would you think I'd spend my free time wandering around you in my hottest lingerie? That was for you, but you, you little fucking perverted fatty, didn't have the balls to savage me! Ever since I caught you wanking that huge cock of yours into my panties... Ever since that day I've wanted nothing but you to stretch my little pussy with it.”
“Oh, I'm sorry I misunderstood your behavior as hostile,” I said sarcastically, years of retained anger now slowly creeping up upon me.
“Haven't you got eyes, you stupid ass? I'm a total babe. Everyone wants me! Guys and girls! But I just happen to fall in love with my ugly, fat-assed pervo stepbrother nerd. How would you feel, huh?!”
I had to restrain my rising anger from taking over my mind and going totally berserk. The moment was perfect: my stepsister at my mercy, begging for me to ravage her. I had the total dominance over her desires. The feeling of that moment... Blank rage mixed with dominance... I almost blew my load right then and there.
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“It's a feeling of pure power, can you imagine that? It's indescribable!”
Young Matt was so absorbed by his own story that his face was distorted as if he was reliving the entire story a second time. His expression emphasized his storytelling in such a vivacious way that both his listeners were leaning forward as though not to miss any word, expression or gesture he used to underline his narrations. Marshal and big ol' Tom were fascinated by this infuriated young man and his enthusiasm he told his story with.
The dim light of the lamp on the table added even more to the whole scenery, underlining Matt's story with a blackly atmosphere.
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My voice was low but sharp: “Okay, Lynne, you've been a good girl so far, and told me all I wanted to know. So you're getting what I promised you. But don't you dare thinking you're getting away with what you did to me so easily.”
I took off my shirt, revealing three years of constant workout in the gym. At this sight, Lynne's jaw almost hit the ground. At last she had realized that had changed from fatty to hottie over the years. It seemed as though these countless hours of practice were finally paying off.
“And that's something you didn't expect, right, my dear stepsister? And now be a good girl, and bend over, and stretch your little wet pussy for me.”
She did as ordered and gave my eyes a show of her perfect buttocks and legs that were drenched in her overflowing pussy juices. My eyes nearly popped out of my head. This was real. This was happening. After all these years! My whole body was trembling from realizing the meaning of this whole situation.
I positioned myself behind her, the thick head of my dick facing her tight entrance. I let the very tip kiss her swollen labia. It ran through her slit, it caressed her clitoris, it felt her hot entrance make way to it as I started pushing it inside her.
My first stroke was gentle; one slow and steady push until I was inside her balls deep.
“It's... It's... So biiiiig,” Lynne moaned in relieved pleasure.
My hands roamed over her back, making their way to the back of her head. There, they reached for her hair, and pulled her head backwards. Then, I started to thrust in and out of her, getting faster and faster, harder and harder, deeper and deeper with each forward thrust. Like a beast, I let free my piled up hatred for that whore. Her aching cries filled the room. She was screaming, moaning, almost crying. Her satisfied moans encouraged me to release more and more of my anger, fuck her harder and harder, all the while insulting her with the filthiest, dirtiest curses.
I let go off her hair, and let her body fall on her bed.
“So how does my dick feel?” I hissed.
She formulated her answer between her laborious breaths: “It's amazing... Fuck! I love it! I love it, Matt! Give me more! Please!”
I ordered her to spin around. “Well... Not yet. First, let's see what a slut's pussy tastes like, shall we?”
“No, please! Don't tease me anymore? I beg you. Fuck me! Fuck me hard! Fill my little pussy with that huge cock of yours! Please!”
“Hey, I'm in charge here. Remember? If I want to taste your pussy, I will taste your pussy. You understand?”
I could see the desperation in her eyes. Now that she had merely had a taste of my cock, she was already craving it. Insatiable bitch!
I had her sit down and spread her legs for me. I lined the way from her neck to her breasts with kisses. This was the hardest part: retention of my raging anger. I sucked her nipple, nibbled on it, bit it, and let it go to resume kissing my way down around her belly button, to her thighs, closer to her crotch. I circled around her pussy with soft kisses, all the while she was squirming as if tortured by my lack of sexual stimulus.
As I finally zeroed on her clit, she let out a relieved sigh. My tongue ran over her it, while two of my fingers probed her entrance, looking for her most sensitive spot, causing moans to come out of the deepness of her throat. She encouraged me by pressing my face harder into her crotch. I increased the frequency of my licks, and the pressure I applied with my fingers until her moans were but a cacophony of guttural sounds.
About that time, a jet of her secretions landed right on my face. I had caused my stepsister to squirt a copious wave of liquid right over my face. Her thighs pressed my head together while the room was filled with her cries and screams. Her body convulsed uncontrollably in the aftershocks of her tremendous orgasm. I had to find a tissue to wipe her secretions off my face.
Before she had found the time to recover of her immense climax, I spread her legs apart, and positioned my thick mushroom right at her entrance. She wanted to protest, she wished to be given a break, but before she could even think of the right words to keep me from fucking her once more, her eyes rolled up in her greatest sexual pleasures.
I knew I wouldn't last much longer. So did Lynne. She felt my cock getting even harder as I was about to reach my summit of pleasures. She wrapped her legs around me, and pulled me close to her.
Her lips right next to my ear whispered: “Shoot your load deep inside of me. Use me as your cum bucket, little stepbrother.”
That was all it took to send me over the edge. Each of my contractions were commented by her approving grunts. There were seven of them, each filled with thick ropes of my sperm. Her hips pressed hard against mine every time to make me unload my load deeper and deeper into her womb.
I rolled off her, lying next to her. Both of us were out of breath. I put my hand on her cheek, and leaned in for a kiss. Our lips barely touched, before she pushed me away.
“Did you just kiss me?” she asked. “Did you seriously just kiss me, you fucking prick?”
I knew what was about to come. Her twisted mind snapped back to its habitual state.
“Get out of my room, you fucking pervo! You hear me? And don't you think I won't make you pay for what you did to me!”
I picked my clothes from the floor, and walked out her door.
Before I could slam it shut, she intervened : “Wait, you've forgotten something!”
I turned around to have a pair of worn panties land in the middle of my face.
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Matt took the last sip from his pint, and let the last few sentences sink in. Both his listeners looked at him with great interest.
“ From that day on, we had the probably unhealthiest relationship you could possibly imagine,” said Matt, “it was a genuine love-hate relationship. We'd be hurting each other, picking on each other, saying things to each other just to find sexual release together. It was a truly sick relationship. Wrong... twisted... sordid... We gradually broke each other until we found us forced to go separate ways. We had this kind of relationship for over three years, slowly squelching each other. It was a torture, but she loved me and I loved her, and we knew we did. Don't ask me why...”
Both his listeners clapped their hands in approval.
“And now?” big ol' Tom asked.
“Well now... I haven't seen her in ten years. I have moved on, found a wife – a real one this time. I have two kids.” Matt paused. “But it has not always been like this. It took me ages to get over Lynne. I was in therapy for almost four years. I had built up some really bad complexes throughout my relationship with Lynne. Felt like forever until I could move on. Sometimes I still think of her. Somewhere deep down, I still belong to my stepsister Lynne, I guess.”
“An' she? She longin' for ya too? Or she's had herself another dick?” Marshal asked.
“Well, for her...” Matt chuckled. “She tried to see me again a few months back. That's how this whole story surged back up from the very depths of my memory and started preying on my mind again. I was afraid I'd have to get back to therapy again. But now that I've finally gotten this whole story off my chest, I hope this won't be really necessary.” He paused. “As for her... She never even tried to recover, I guess. I think this photograph speaks volumes.”
Matt took out his phone, and started shuffling through his gallery, looking for a particular picture. This picture showed Lynne naked, smiling at the camera, kneeling on the floor with spread legs, covered in the semen of five different men. They were all standing around her with their now flaccid cocks in their hands. The picture came with a caption: “Wish this was yours. They all couldn't give me what you used to. Miss you, little stepbrother
Leaning over his half empty pint, his glass eye immobilized while the intact one stared at big ol' Tom, the elder of the only two guests replied: “Still nuthin' goin' on tonight, huh? An' I c'mere to listen to sum good stories, just like the ol' days.”
“Well...” said big ol' Tom, “tonight's a bit of a shame, sure. But these calm nights usually do offer the best stories” He paused. “Not this time, as it seems, though..” He turned his head to his younger guest. “And you, son? No story to tell either?”
The young lad slightly, yet reluctantly shook his head no. He pressed his lips together, his eyes looking down to his empty glass.
“So either I give you another round, my friends, or I'm afraid I'll close the tavern for tonight,” sighed big ol' Tom.
“But wasn't that the deal?” the elder man asked, “we tell ya stories an' you hand us them drinks to hammer down while we talkin'. Cuz tellin' them stories makes thirsty.”
“ Sure, you're right, Marshal. But tonight's kind of an exception, I guess.” Big ol' Tom stood up. “So last round for tonight... On the house.” He kept on murmuring while walking out of the dim light of the table lamp to the bar: “Maybe I should have called it the tavern ' the dirtier, the better' instead of ' the place where stories are told'.”
“Wait, what did you just say?” intervened the younger guest. “Dirty? That kind of rings a bell.”
Both Marshal and big ol' Tom where all ears all of a sudden, staring at the young man.
He resumed talking: “There actually is a story. I was just afraid it might be a little inappropriate. But since dirty is what you want, dirty is what I can offer you.”
“Lookie there, now who's been hidin' sumthin' here? So you got a nice piece a' story? Reckon we that's what we been waitin' for, yeah? That story better be long and exciting. Ain't been excited by them last stories no more. Them last folks was just too short of words for good narration. They is no good in telling stories no more, nowuttamsayin?” commented Marshal all the while big ol' Tom hurried to refill three glasses with his best draft beer.
“Don't worry, old man, I'm pretty damn sure you're going to enjoy that one, that is, if you're more into kinky stuff,” answered the young lad. “Oh man, this is really happening. I've been waiting like forever to finally get this off my chest.” He took a few deep breaths as if to make sure he wasn't fainting or simply dreaming. “Phew! Let me gather my thoughts a little.”
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I have sort of always lived in a rather chaotic family: My father, whom I often refer to as ' the asshole', had left my mother and me when I was in my early teens. Yes, I was fourteen, I think. He had found a barely legal slut during his midlife crisis and ran off with her. It only lasted a few months after all. Serves him right, but that's totally different story.
Anyhow... Guess what? His running off was a huge problem. My mother had been running the house while the asshole had been the director of a great company; lots of cash and so on and so forth. At least he left us our great villa that was worth pretty a deal of money. Unfortunately, we had to sell it to be able to survive, because given my mother hadn't had a proper formation, she encountered serious trouble in finding an actual job. On the bright side, the money from our villa bought us some extra time to find a good source of money.
It took me ages to get over it. I was traumatized. So I just barricaded myself behind my computer and became your typical nerd; the total opposite of attractive: unpopular with girls, not athletic at all. I had taken a lot of weight, what – of course – had incited the guys at school to bully me. That didn't help any either, for I found solace in eating even more. Bad choice!
At least my mother hadn't taken too much time to move in with a new boyfriend who she seemed pretty happy with. He was okay for me too. I was fine with him as my stepdad and he was okay with me as his stepson. However, he had a daughter named Lynne who was two years older than I was. A real pain in the ass, I tell you. She wouldn't miss a chance to pick on me. Not even at home did I have a break from being badgered, you see?
That was not the only problem: Ever since I had realized my stepsister was a real babe I couldn't take my eyes off her. It happened right after my sixteenth birthday: I ran into the bathroom while she was taking a shower. I liked what I was looking at – well, gawking at would be a more suitable expression, I guess –, but she obviously didn't like that so much. I still do wonder why... Nonsense!
Well, she may have forgotten to lock the bathroom door that day, but surely haven't I forgotten what she yelled at me.
I remember her shouting the exact words: “Get the fuck outta here, you fat perv!!!”
Ever since that day I'd masturbate while thinking of her. Sure, blame me, but what would you guys expect from a sixteen year old fatty? The more I did, the more I fell for that insupportable bitch. I even went to the gym on a regular basis to get in a healthier shape again... and maybe also a little to please her. Oh, who am I kidding? I wanted her to notice me, nothing more!
There was no way I'd ever understand that. It was bugging me over and over. What twisted kind of love had my heart gotten me into?
And what did she do? Of course she had noticed, and of course she used it to pick on me even more. Getting caught masturbating with one of her used panties wrapped around my dick didn't help any. She had left them right behind her wide-open door, exposed to everyone's look. What did she expect I'd do with them? Wash them, hang them out to dry, fold them neatly and put them in her drawer? And know what? After that unfortunate incident she still kept leaving them right there on the floor. Man, she practically asked me to misuse them to satisfy my hormone-driven sexual needs.
And to tease me even more she started wandering around the house in her hottest, sluttiest lingerie. A real witch, I tell you!
Things got even worse when she started to have what looked like millions of guys over anytime we had a free run of the house. This appeared to occur quite often, since we were old enough and my mother and her boyfriend loved to have some time off their children; on weekends mostly.
Whenever this was the case, Lynne would command me to get the fuck into my room and sit in front of my computer, adding a 'fat little nerd/piggy/fatty/pervo' – you name it – at the end of her orders.
“And don't you rat me out, you hear me, fucking wanker? Tell a single word and I'll punish you and you know I will.”
Did I mention she was a bitch? Do you now understand why my secret love to her – okay, not that secret, I admit – was nothing but a pain in the ass? Oh man, how I hated all of this.
The worst part of all this was that I could hear every noise, every moan through the thin walls that separated both our rooms. It was a real torture. Each time I hoped so bad the dickhead she was using that time would go – just go, nothing more. The sooner, the better.
I bet you guys wouldn't let all of this just slide, right? So did I. I made up my mind. I just needed to wait for the right occasion to make her pay once and for all. Remember I said I was a nerd? Why not use it against her? Her notebook was facing her bed, so I just needed to wait until she'd forget to turn that thing off on one of these days she had one of her poor catamites over. I bet you guys have heard of that tiny little lens built in every notebook on top of the screen called webcam , haven't you?
On that one fateful day, everything changed. It was one of these Fridays our parents would hang out the entire evening, and probably even get themselves a hotel room for the night. They were looking forward to listening to a show of some jazz pianist I had never heard of before, and they declared to be their mutual favorite, although never listening to any of his records. Parent's stuff and so on... Why make up a silly excuse to go do what so-called 'grown-ups' do? Seriously? They were really bad liars.
It was just one month after Lynne's 21st birthday.
“And remember, kids: Behave, and no friends over!” Mom said before leaving. Why did they still treat us like we were little kids? We had every goddamn right to do whatever the hell we wanted.
Back to the story!
The doorbell announcing Lynne's toy for that night rang so soon I wondered if that poor bastard had been hiding in the bushes in our garden. I went into my room before she could even start with her usual cascade of insults. As soon as I heard her close the bedroom door, I started my almost weekly work: check if her computer was still running – that is, try to hack into it.
And there it was: she had forgotten to turn it off! Finally the day I could make her pay for all she had ever done to me had come. Finally I could put my cruel little plan I had made up a few years back into execution. Through her webcam I had a clear look on her bed. There were – as expected – two people making out, fondling, touching, undressing. I watched them with great interest. Why not? The hottest girl I knew, about to spread her legs for that poor toy she'd discard right after he had epically failed at satisfying her.
I won't go into detail here. Not much to tell there anyway. Just your typical lo-fi tape with just-a-hint-more-than-vanilla-sex on it. Nothing really exciting. The guy shooting his load way too early. Barely enough material to get a semi boner, know what I mean?
----------------
“Where are these free drinks anyway?” asked the young storyteller, before apologizing for his rude way of expression: “Oh, I'm sorry. Got a little carried away, I guess. I still kind of hold a grudge against her. Really sorry. May I have a refill of my pint?”
“Nevermind, son,” replied big ol' Tom who did his customer the favor of refilling his empty glass.
“Gotta admit, boy. That sum good stuff – ya story. Real nice lissnin' to ya. Can't wait to hear where ya be goin' with this,” commented Marshal.
“I hope you do, because now comes the exciting part, but first let me quench that thirst of mine a little.”
----------------
I just had to wait until she threw her unsatisfying lover out.
“Get out, you useless piece of shit! You're even more worthless than my fat pig of a stepbrother!” she yelled, showing that poor naked devil the door.
She slammed the door so hard, the whole house vibrated. The door flung open a second time, and she threw her failed lover's clothes at him. Poor boy was humiliated; his manly pride was broken, or better: crushed into a million pieces. I could see him crying. Who hadn't seen that coming? He was a true misery. Although he clearly had it coming from the very beginning – considering my stepsister's social skills – I felt a little pity for that miserable creature.
As soon as he was dressed, I led him to our door, whispering soothing words to him. He went away still sniffing and trying to recollect his far gone masculinity.
Before knocking at Lynne's door, I got my own notebook from my room and opened my newest cinematographic acquisition.
A characteristic humming noise accompanied by Lynne's moans could be clearly heard coming from her room. No doubt about what she was doing there. I knocked anyway.
The answer came with her habitual hostility, spiced up with additional frustration about the renewed interruption in her carnal activities: “What do want, fucking pervo? You know exactly what I'm trying to do here!”
“Yes, I am,” I said while entering her room, “and know what? You forgot to turn your computer off, dear stepsister.”
“What the fuck are you doing in here? Get the fuck out!!”
She took her vibrator out of her dripping cunt, and threw it at me. Since I kind of saw this coming, I dodged it with ease.
She stood up, and looked at me, hesitantly looking at the screen of my notebook. “Wait... What do you mean by I didn't turn my computer off?”
“See for yourself.”
The picture quality was just good enough to recognize it was her room, and a guy was buried in her pussy balls deep. The caption at the lower right corner read the date and time of the record.
“How did you...? I swear, I'm going to kill you!!” She was in blank rage; hatred filled her eyes – more than usual.
“No, you're not,” I stated stoically, “'cause I'm gonna show this piece of evidence to your dad and my mom as soon as they come back. Unless...”
The expression of pure horror; no, better: of blank fear in her face – priceless! She sank on her knees, still naked.
“Please, I'll do anything, please, I beg you. Don't tell on me.”
“Anything, you say?” I paused to see her nod. “You've been a naughty girl, Lynne.” I heard the creepiness in my voice and I knew my grin was devilish. Seeing her beg like she did turned me on to no end. I really had to restrain myself from getting too carried away. “Then why don't you start by sucking that cock. And remember, you don't behave, I'll rat you out.”
Her eyes widened in shock. She wasn't used to be at someone's mercy. “No, please. Don't do that to me.”
I grinned sarcastically. “Why not? No, don't say it. You don't have to. You're free, but tell me... Would you rather have it sent to Mom by E-mail or by whatsapp? Wait... Or should I upload it to youporn right away?”
A tear fell down the corner of her eye.
“You know that crying isn't helping any. You just get what you deserve, whore! So now, would you please suck my dick – or shall I say monster?”
My cock indeed was monstrous. Not for the length – this was pretty average – it was the girth. It was as thick as my forearm, and she had seen that monster the day she had caught me masturbating into her panties, so she was well aware of what she had gotten herself into.
I couldn't really say if her facial expression was rather disgusted or amazed by the sight of my thick tube. But the way she sucked it... That was divine! Her licks over the underside of my shaft, her lips closing around the very head, her tongue teasing my balls, her hand stroking up and down the entire length, her soft, yet firm kisses all along this piece of meat. This girl just knew how to please a man. I knew she evidently enjoyed it at least as much as I did; her pussy was watering such copious amounts that her juices were dribbling down her thighs.
I interrupted her after a while, for I didn't want to waste my juice on merely a blowjob, right?
“I can see that you're pretty much enjoying this yourself as well,” I stated.
She looked at me with hate-filled eyes. She sentenced me to death with her hostile gaze.
“No, I'm just doing it because you make me, fucking prick!”
“You know that lying is futile, dear stepsister. So why even bother? You know what? Let's turn this whole game around a little.” I paused to let my words sink in. “Guess what. I won't fuck you unless you confess that you want to be pounded nice and hard by my throbbing monster.”
On that threat, her expression of pure hatred got slowly mixed up with the feeling of despair... I knew she had hoped she'd be able to turn the tide as I was giving in to the intense pleasures I'd be given by her watering cunt. Wrong! I could see she was experiencing a major disillusion. For the very first time, she was not in the position to pick on me like she always did. I really had her by the balls , as the expression goes.
Her hate made way for her desperation that filled her belly. I could see she felt truly humiliated by my abilities to read her like an open book.
“Yes,” she stumbled, “I... I want you... to... fuck me... with that... monstrous cock of yours. Will you give it to me?”
I acted as if I was thinking for a moment. “Let's see. I will... But... Only if you can swear that you've got nothing more you'd like to confess." I paused again. “So... Do you? Is that all there is?”
She slowly nodded, her eyes fixed to the floor, but staring into the nothingness of desperation.
“Really? Is there nothing more you'd like to tell me?”
She slowly shook her head no.
“Look into my eyes, Lynne, and tell me there's nothing more you'd like to confess.”
She tried to do as ordered, but failed: “There is... nothing...” she paused before she bursted out in tears. “Fuck, I love you!”
“Wait... What was that?” I asked, incredulous of what I believe I had just heard.
“I love you, Matt!” was her brief answer.
I really did play with the thought of making her repeat it over and over, as a matter of satisfaction. I liked the sound of these words, plus it humiliated her even more. But no...
“Seriously? Is that how you think you can still turn the tables? Really? That's cheap, Lynne. It also hurts my feelings, and you know that.”
“No, Matt, please. I really do love you, please. I've wanted you for so long.”
I maintained my dominant attitude even if I had to muster all my concentration on not to let myself go into an outburst of rage. “Now that's something that came unexpected. And how for fuck's sake do you want me to believe this sort of shit?”
As a reply, Lynne gave me her declaration of defeat, by completely opening her heart to me. It was even better than my first intention to have her repeat her confession over and over again: “Why the hell do you think I always left my worn panties lying on the ground in full display of anyone passing by my room? They were for you! I secretly was hoping you will jerk off in them. And why would you think I'd spend my free time wandering around you in my hottest lingerie? That was for you, but you, you little fucking perverted fatty, didn't have the balls to savage me! Ever since I caught you wanking that huge cock of yours into my panties... Ever since that day I've wanted nothing but you to stretch my little pussy with it.”
“Oh, I'm sorry I misunderstood your behavior as hostile,” I said sarcastically, years of retained anger now slowly creeping up upon me.
“Haven't you got eyes, you stupid ass? I'm a total babe. Everyone wants me! Guys and girls! But I just happen to fall in love with my ugly, fat-assed pervo stepbrother nerd. How would you feel, huh?!”
I had to restrain my rising anger from taking over my mind and going totally berserk. The moment was perfect: my stepsister at my mercy, begging for me to ravage her. I had the total dominance over her desires. The feeling of that moment... Blank rage mixed with dominance... I almost blew my load right then and there.
----------------
“It's a feeling of pure power, can you imagine that? It's indescribable!”
Young Matt was so absorbed by his own story that his face was distorted as if he was reliving the entire story a second time. His expression emphasized his storytelling in such a vivacious way that both his listeners were leaning forward as though not to miss any word, expression or gesture he used to underline his narrations. Marshal and big ol' Tom were fascinated by this infuriated young man and his enthusiasm he told his story with.
The dim light of the lamp on the table added even more to the whole scenery, underlining Matt's story with a blackly atmosphere.
----------------
My voice was low but sharp: “Okay, Lynne, you've been a good girl so far, and told me all I wanted to know. So you're getting what I promised you. But don't you dare thinking you're getting away with what you did to me so easily.”
I took off my shirt, revealing three years of constant workout in the gym. At this sight, Lynne's jaw almost hit the ground. At last she had realized that had changed from fatty to hottie over the years. It seemed as though these countless hours of practice were finally paying off.
“And that's something you didn't expect, right, my dear stepsister? And now be a good girl, and bend over, and stretch your little wet pussy for me.”
She did as ordered and gave my eyes a show of her perfect buttocks and legs that were drenched in her overflowing pussy juices. My eyes nearly popped out of my head. This was real. This was happening. After all these years! My whole body was trembling from realizing the meaning of this whole situation.
I positioned myself behind her, the thick head of my dick facing her tight entrance. I let the very tip kiss her swollen labia. It ran through her slit, it caressed her clitoris, it felt her hot entrance make way to it as I started pushing it inside her.
My first stroke was gentle; one slow and steady push until I was inside her balls deep.
“It's... It's... So biiiiig,” Lynne moaned in relieved pleasure.
My hands roamed over her back, making their way to the back of her head. There, they reached for her hair, and pulled her head backwards. Then, I started to thrust in and out of her, getting faster and faster, harder and harder, deeper and deeper with each forward thrust. Like a beast, I let free my piled up hatred for that whore. Her aching cries filled the room. She was screaming, moaning, almost crying. Her satisfied moans encouraged me to release more and more of my anger, fuck her harder and harder, all the while insulting her with the filthiest, dirtiest curses.
I let go off her hair, and let her body fall on her bed.
“So how does my dick feel?” I hissed.
She formulated her answer between her laborious breaths: “It's amazing... Fuck! I love it! I love it, Matt! Give me more! Please!”
I ordered her to spin around. “Well... Not yet. First, let's see what a slut's pussy tastes like, shall we?”
“No, please! Don't tease me anymore? I beg you. Fuck me! Fuck me hard! Fill my little pussy with that huge cock of yours! Please!”
“Hey, I'm in charge here. Remember? If I want to taste your pussy, I will taste your pussy. You understand?”
I could see the desperation in her eyes. Now that she had merely had a taste of my cock, she was already craving it. Insatiable bitch!
I had her sit down and spread her legs for me. I lined the way from her neck to her breasts with kisses. This was the hardest part: retention of my raging anger. I sucked her nipple, nibbled on it, bit it, and let it go to resume kissing my way down around her belly button, to her thighs, closer to her crotch. I circled around her pussy with soft kisses, all the while she was squirming as if tortured by my lack of sexual stimulus.
As I finally zeroed on her clit, she let out a relieved sigh. My tongue ran over her it, while two of my fingers probed her entrance, looking for her most sensitive spot, causing moans to come out of the deepness of her throat. She encouraged me by pressing my face harder into her crotch. I increased the frequency of my licks, and the pressure I applied with my fingers until her moans were but a cacophony of guttural sounds.
About that time, a jet of her secretions landed right on my face. I had caused my stepsister to squirt a copious wave of liquid right over my face. Her thighs pressed my head together while the room was filled with her cries and screams. Her body convulsed uncontrollably in the aftershocks of her tremendous orgasm. I had to find a tissue to wipe her secretions off my face.
Before she had found the time to recover of her immense climax, I spread her legs apart, and positioned my thick mushroom right at her entrance. She wanted to protest, she wished to be given a break, but before she could even think of the right words to keep me from fucking her once more, her eyes rolled up in her greatest sexual pleasures.
I knew I wouldn't last much longer. So did Lynne. She felt my cock getting even harder as I was about to reach my summit of pleasures. She wrapped her legs around me, and pulled me close to her.
Her lips right next to my ear whispered: “Shoot your load deep inside of me. Use me as your cum bucket, little stepbrother.”
That was all it took to send me over the edge. Each of my contractions were commented by her approving grunts. There were seven of them, each filled with thick ropes of my sperm. Her hips pressed hard against mine every time to make me unload my load deeper and deeper into her womb.
I rolled off her, lying next to her. Both of us were out of breath. I put my hand on her cheek, and leaned in for a kiss. Our lips barely touched, before she pushed me away.
“Did you just kiss me?” she asked. “Did you seriously just kiss me, you fucking prick?”
I knew what was about to come. Her twisted mind snapped back to its habitual state.
“Get out of my room, you fucking pervo! You hear me? And don't you think I won't make you pay for what you did to me!”
I picked my clothes from the floor, and walked out her door.
Before I could slam it shut, she intervened : “Wait, you've forgotten something!”
I turned around to have a pair of worn panties land in the middle of my face.
----------------
Matt took the last sip from his pint, and let the last few sentences sink in. Both his listeners looked at him with great interest.
“ From that day on, we had the probably unhealthiest relationship you could possibly imagine,” said Matt, “it was a genuine love-hate relationship. We'd be hurting each other, picking on each other, saying things to each other just to find sexual release together. It was a truly sick relationship. Wrong... twisted... sordid... We gradually broke each other until we found us forced to go separate ways. We had this kind of relationship for over three years, slowly squelching each other. It was a torture, but she loved me and I loved her, and we knew we did. Don't ask me why...”
Both his listeners clapped their hands in approval.
“And now?” big ol' Tom asked.
“Well now... I haven't seen her in ten years. I have moved on, found a wife – a real one this time. I have two kids.” Matt paused. “But it has not always been like this. It took me ages to get over Lynne. I was in therapy for almost four years. I had built up some really bad complexes throughout my relationship with Lynne. Felt like forever until I could move on. Sometimes I still think of her. Somewhere deep down, I still belong to my stepsister Lynne, I guess.”
“An' she? She longin' for ya too? Or she's had herself another dick?” Marshal asked.
“Well, for her...” Matt chuckled. “She tried to see me again a few months back. That's how this whole story surged back up from the very depths of my memory and started preying on my mind again. I was afraid I'd have to get back to therapy again. But now that I've finally gotten this whole story off my chest, I hope this won't be really necessary.” He paused. “As for her... She never even tried to recover, I guess. I think this photograph speaks volumes.”
Matt took out his phone, and started shuffling through his gallery, looking for a particular picture. This picture showed Lynne naked, smiling at the camera, kneeling on the floor with spread legs, covered in the semen of five different men. They were all standing around her with their now flaccid cocks in their hands. The picture came with a caption: “Wish this was yours. They all couldn't give me what you used to. Miss you, little stepbrother
Jeannie
- 02.06.2021
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- Category:
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