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A Swim In The Mountains free porn video
“Well, are we going?” she asked, eyebrows raised above pale blue eyes, her hands making a cute little questioning gesture.
She stood in the doorway, illuminated by the midday sun, a picture of angelic perfection if there ever was one. She was about 160cm in height, just over eight stone, very skinny, not much meat on her. Her skin was as pale as the moon and she had shoulder-length midnight black hair that she usually wore long with her bangs crafted into a bulbous shape. Her lips were puffy and perpetually coated in fire truck red lipstick. Her ass was big for a girl of her size and very round, no doubt the product of countless squats. She liked to joke that she had a “J-Lo booty.” Her breasts too shared the perfection of circumference that her ass did and were pleasantly an exact handful. Her voice was cute, sweet, making her sound younger than her twenty-one years.
At the moment she was wearing a black crop top with some metal band’s name across the front in medieval era lettering and a pair of very short denim shorts. They were practically hot pants; they fit her snugly and revealed most of her smooth, milky thighs. Just peeking out of the top of her shorts was the white border of an orange and white bikini bottom. Similarly, her crop top was cut so short that the top of her swimsuit was visible in brief flashes, holding back her not inconsequential cleavage. She was barefoot and both her feet and her hands bore black nail polish. Her tongue was pierced with what looked like a tiny silver barbell. Her eyelashes were like that of a 1950s movie starlet, thick and noticeable.
She batted her eyelashes at me now, kept her icy blue eyes locked on mine, a little smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.
There was one more thing about her that was as attractive as everything else about her put together….and when you combined that with the rest, she was irresistible, full-stop.
Her name was Lucy…and she was my stepsister.
I had just gotten back from a six month tour in Afghanistan with the Royal Marines. It had been brutal, worse than training, if that’s possible. Murderous heat during the day, bone-chilling cold at night, people out to kill you, wanting to kill you in the worst way, endless patrols, the boredom, the anger, the complete and utter sexual frustration. The latter perhaps affected our unit most universally. They weren’t any women in our platoon and the nearest village consisted of only a handful of women all above the age of sixty. For six months we didn’t even so much as hear a female voice over the radio. Everyone was starved half-mad without exception, but I had a secret weapon.
Lucy was the only person, family or friend, who wrote me regularly and kept it up the whole time I was over there. We’d only known each other a few, short years since our parents eloped, but it felt much, much longer. And I admit, I’d always had a crush on her and I challenge any heterosexual male to look at her and imagine feeling otherwise, relations aside. Of course, I never expressed it, and I didn’t know how she felt, though she was always sweet and playful with me, teasing me that I must have a very active sex life. If only she knew. She also kept a picture of me, musclebound and shirtless during Marine training, in her room on a nightstand. I was always far too scared to make a move though and desperately tried to conceal how I felt. She must have noticed though…somehow.
Not only did she write me regularly for my whole tour, but with each letter came pictures. In one shot she was dressed in a red flannel crop top and tight jean shorts while sitting on a log in the woods, looking pensive. In another she was dressed in black combat boots, a barely thigh length black shirt, and a band t-shirt. She was into the Goth scene a bit, but could also look absolutely ordinary (well as ordinary as it got for a girl as good looking as her) when the situation warranted it. My favorite picture that she sent me was of her in an orange bikini with white borders along the edges, standing with one leg slightly curled upward atop a sand dune at the beach. Christ, she looked amazing. Her stomach was absolutely flat, her “V” line well-defined, her hip bones prominent, and she had cute little brown birth marks littering her body. As if to drive the point home, she included another picture of her in the orange-and-white bikini, this one from behind. She was looking over her shoulder, one hand on her left hip, her shapely ass jutting towards the camera ever so slightly, back dimples clearly visible. That bikini bottom was pressed on her so tight, and it was so sheer, that if you looked hard enough you could see the outline of her ass like the moon over the day. The look she was giving the camera was a smiling, happy one, but below the surface (and perhaps just in my mind), it was an inviting one, a tempting one, almost a commanding one. I shamelessly jerked myself off to that photo dozens of times, I dreamed of it at night, and hallucinated about it while on countless patrols in the arid mountains. I was the only one in my unit to genuinely smile those last few months.
Through our constant correspondence in which we spoke of everything and anything yet rarely touched on the war, we came to the agreement that when I got back, we’d spend a whole day together, just us. It would be a brother-sister day, to celebrate, to see each other again, to welcome me back home, to just be alive. The thought of such a day sustained me through many a wearing time over there. Furthermore, we settled on going swimming in a lake within the mountains. We both knew the spot and had previously hiked past it a few times during various outings with friends and family. I made her promise to wear that orange-and-white bikini. “Don’t worry, you’ll get to see me in it ; ),” she wrote back.
I quite literally shook with excitement when I read her reply.
As I knocked on her door, I still hadn’t quite stopped quivering at the thought of a whole day with her. In another moment, the door opened and I could think no more.
“brother!” she squeaked before practically running into my arms, jumping at the last second and wrapping her legs around me, clasping them together firmly just at the small of my back.
We embraced tightly, my heart beating out of my chest, lost in the moment of our reunion. I felt her luscious, warm lips kiss my cheek, then she looked me in the eyes. I stared back at her, happy to be home, overjoyed to see my dear stepsister who’d saved my morale from hitting rock bottom over there.
Without a word more, we kissed. There was no tongue, it was just a peck, but she held it a second too long. And in that second, I knew I couldn’t hold back my unbearable feelings for her. Before the day was out, I was determined to see just how mutual those feelings were.
She pulled back and smiled at me, I felt my cock hardening rapidly and pressing up against her. Overwhelmed and a little embarrassed, I set her down gently. She took a step back, looked me over, up and down. She wet her lips, smiled at me, and looked me in the eyes, matching my gaze.
“Well, are we going?” she asked expectantly, eagerly almost.
“Uh, y-yes, uh we are,” I stuttered, trying to regain my composure.
Going with my gut, I held out my hand, she took it, and together we walked to my jeep.
The ride to the mountains was uneventful. It was a hot, humid day out, not a cloud in the sky, the brilliant blueness of the atmosphere almost blinding at times. She continued to hold my hand as we drove. She made point of putting on a pair of silver, almost metallic looking aviator sunglasses. An accessory, might I add, that I had mentioned in one of my letters as something that looked ravishing on “the right girl.” My jeep was an old clunker, a 1970s civilian version of the standard-issue military jeep. It had no roof or doors and was sky blue in color. About the only thing of value on it were its monstrous tires, a feature which necessitated me grabbing Lucy by the waist and hoisting her aboard. She enjoyed that I could tell, letting off an adorable giggle. No sooner was I seated did she take my hand again.
Looking over at her, the window tossing her silky black hair, whipping her crop top, the heavy metal blasting, our hands tangled together upon her thigh, the brutal humidity of the day washed away, the fact that I was home wasn’t just hitting me hard, but the fact that I was with her. And with her amorous interest suspect, I had no reason to hold back.
I drove as fast as I could and quite aggressively, eliciting a few more giggles from her. I was dying to know how the day would turn out. I could not stand to wait a second longer than necessary in the most literal sense.
After we both jumped down from the jeep, she removed her sunglasses, came around to my side and hugged me, hard, resting her head on my chest, doubtlessly feeling its muscular composition.
“I’m so happy you’re back,” she cooed, sincere relief in her voice.
“I won’t leave again,” I muttered, mindlessly stroking her hair as she desperately clung to me.
She looked up at me with her baby blue eyes, an almost pleading look about her. Delicately, she extricated herself from me and we exchanged warm smiles once again. I put an arm around her waist, running a finger or two over her pronounced hip bone again and again, and silently we made our way to the lake.
Upon reaching the muddy bank of the mountain lake, we set a towel down. It was picturesque, a more serene setting you couldn’t have asked for. The birds were chirping, the smell of fresh grass was carried on the wind, the crisp mountain air filled our lungs, and the cool shade of the trees provided a welcome contrast to the unforgiving afternoon sun.
“It’s just like I remember it,” I murmured without thinking.
“Ready to swim?” Lucy inquired of me, a sparkle in her eyes, seemingly as eager as I was.
“I’m ready,” I answered, holding our eye contact.
Without a word more she turned and began peeling herself out of her clothes, following her lead I turned and did the same. I had on a pair of green swim trunks that were the same shade of green as the beret all Royal Marines wore. Behind me I heard her unzip her jean shorts.
As quickly as I could I changed and turned around to face her and there she stood, just like the picture she sent me, except a hundredfold better as she was real, in front of me, and perhaps desired me as terribly as I her. She even curled her right leg a little to assume the same pose she was holding in the photograph. She smiled at me, cocking her head in a “what do you think” fashion.
Stunned by the fantasy of so many lonely, starved nights in Afghanistan coming to life, I couldn’t muster a word. I managed a step forward and that was it. It felt like I was having a heart attack and I noticed myself breathing hard, as though I was in the middle of a 30 kilometer ruck.
She stepped forward as well, into my arms again, my hands finding the dimples on her back. She looked up at me, moved closer, and again, our lips met in perfect synchronicity. Again, it was held a second too long, sending a bolt of lightning through me. Now it could not be denied. The taste of her lips matched her demeanor, vibrant and sweet. Her lips rivaled peaches in terms of juicy succulence and they were so big they nearly engulfed mine. She pulled away nonchalantly and gave me a devilish smile.
“Let’s go,” she said softly, before turning and slowly walking into the lake, looking back over her shoulder at me. Gradually, the water inched up her pale, slender, birthmark-covered body. She held her eye contact with me till it was up to the middle of her back.
Still recovering from our passionate kiss, I couldn’t even mutter an answer. I merely willed myself forward and followed after her, my body shaking visibly and badly, my mind scrambled. She wanted me, and I definitely wanted her, now I just had to press it home. I was always nervous around attractive women, Lucy included. Her reciprocation did a lot to mitigate that, but still my very being was going wild, mad at the prospect of having her.
Lucy swam about lake effortlessly, her toned body parting the murky mountain water as if she were part-submarine. I swam around aimlessly, my mind racing about what I should do next. My heart was thumping so strongly by this point that it was making ripples in the water. I was busy trying to comprehend the whirlwind of events that had transpired since I picked her up just an hour earlier when I noticed her gliding towards me.
With just her head above the water and a cheeky smile on her face, she approached me. Caught off guard, I made eye contact with her and addressed her first.
“Hey Lucy, the waters’ like bathwater today,” I stammered, my cock already stiffening at her close proximity.
Wordlessly she latched on to me, wrapping her legs around me, and resting her head on my shoulder. I felt her legs clamp together behind my back.
“I missed you,” she whimpered.
I tenderly stroked her hair, which was still dry, before putting my hands underneath her deliciously round ass, supporting her in the water.
“Well, I’m here now and I won’t be going away again,” I told her, lying as I knew the Marines could very well call me back for another tour, but wanting badly to make her feel safe and reassured.
She lifted her head from my shoulder, we locked eyes, and kissed, full-on and passionately. Instantly, my stiff cock, already pressed up against her stomach, began throbbing, pulsating as more blood thundered into it. We held the kiss for a long second. She pulled back, uncurled herself from me, giggled once more and swam off towards the shore. I felt toyed with for a second, but only a second. The mere kiss had caused me to pre-cum a little from its sheer intensity. Watching her ass pop above the water as she stroked to shore, seeing the outline of her curves…it reinvigorated me, caused me to regain my self-possession. I was going to go for it.
I pursued her to the shoreline and onto the bank. She stood on our towel, seemingly waiting for me. I trudged up to her and stood beside her, trying to conceal my uncontrollable shake.
“What’s the hurry?” she asked playfully, looking me up and down, the ever-present smile stretched across her face.
“I wanted another kiss from my dear stepsister who I missed sooo much,” I blurted out, not concealing it any longer.
Before she could reply I took her into my arms and kissed her. She moaned in surprise for a second before her arms wrapped around me. My hands slid down her back as I went in for another kiss, this time with tongue, as much as I wanted. She responded as I hoped, rubbing her tongue against mine, our pace increasing, now fully locked in a passionate make-out. Her nails dug into my back, my hands cupped her perfect ass and squeezed hard. I’d wanted to do that for years, I pawed her over and over, pushing her into me, my cock blossoming into a wholly hard raging erection, pressing against her stomach, undeniable, beating as if it had a heart of its own.
“brother…” she gasped as she broke away for just a second before our kissing recommenced, hotter and heavier than ever.
I ground myself against her, rubbing my cock against her sheathed pussy and glass-smooth stomach. My hands went under her bikini bottom and embraced her pale, symmetrical ass. She whimpered in reply, her one hand on the back of my head, pushing my tongue further down her throat. Before long, her other hand began pulling down my swim trunks. Abruptly she broke away, knelt before me, pulled my trunks the rest of the way down in one clean jerk, and confronted with my manhood at its peak, gripped it with one hand whilst showcasing a sinister smile.
Wasting no time, she took the length of it into her mouth, pressing it to the back of her throat, gagging on it, her precious blue eyes watering a tad. Her thick lips consumed my shaft, pressing on it with just enough pressure to drive me closer to orgasm every second they slid along my throbbing member. She worked herself up and down on it, stimulating my g-spot when she reached the tip with loving flicks of her pierced tongue. Hungrily, she moaned as she worked. She was an absolute expert at it, I had a hard time remaining standing. I’d never, never felt so helpless, so powerless, so dominated yet so absolutely thrilled at the same time in my whole life. My hands weakly gripped her head as my breaths came in hard rasps. It even sounded like it does in the movies, you know, that watery gurgling sound. I was going to cum any second, I couldn’t take it, couldn’t stand up to the tornado of gentle yet forceful tongue thrusts she was blanketing my manhood in. I caught myself involuntarily moaning as she pulled back and let my cock d**** over her face, her tongue impishly jabbing at it.
“Lucy…….” I wheezed.
She let go of me just before I was about to burst, seeming to detect the rapidly increasing pace of the blood pounding through my cock. Still on her knees, she grabbed my arms and pulled me down to her level. I welcomed the chance to sit, I was so destroyed from her intense oral gymnastics that I could barely have told you my first name. Smiling evilly, she pushed me onto my back.
“brother….” she whispered again, locking eyes with me.
I heard her making some movements down below as our stare-down continued, but thought nothing of it, instead concentrating deeply on restoring my breathing. She leaned over me and we kissed again, her tongue playing with mine. In another moment, I was overcome by the intensely pleasurable sensation of her lowering herself onto my engorged manhood. She was remarkably tight, but wet enough so that there was no resistance. She leaned back, finding the “sweet spot,” and was now sitting astride me, her ass pushing down, getting every last inch of my cock driven deep inside her. Down she slid till her cute bum touched my balls. She let off a moan and a pained expression danced across her features. After placing her hands on my chest, she dutifully began popping herself up and down on my cock.
My hands instinctively gripped her ass, gently guiding her as she rode me at an increasingly hard and fast rate, quickly coating my cock with her cum.
“Oh, brother…” she moaned as she steadied herself, hands on the ground, and twerked her ass rapidly up and down on me, her eyes shut tight, lost in rapturous caverns of pleasure, lost in the moment.
I held her by the hips, focused on plunging myself balls deep into her with every thrust. Unable to contain myself, I felt up her flawless stomach and pushed my hands underneath her bikini top, caressing her hard nipples. I pushed the bikini top up over her puffy tits, exposing them. They jiggled in time with her bouncing and reminded me of cupcakes with a cherry on top. I groped them madly, so many years, so many fantasies all coming to fruition in a matter of minutes, nothing in my life even held a candle to it.
She sat back on my cock, pulled her bikini top over her head, and remained upright, her fingertips on my chest again. She started a down and out rhythm to her riding, slamming down on me at first before pushing her ass back in time. I couldn’t hold on much longer, though I wanted it to last forever. How I lasted as long as I did was something of a miracle.
An overwhelming burst of pleasure hit me, the precursor to the inevitable, explosive orgasm. I gripped her ass, hard, my fingernails digging into it u*********sly. For a moment, I couldn’t breathe. I heard her moaning, now more like shrieking, increase in tempo. I caught her smile out of the corner of my upturned eye, she knew what she was doing, and what would come next.
After pushing herself down on me extremely roughly a few more times, I lost it. My muscle-control and ability to think rationally went out the window. I was fucked into another dimension quite literally. I squeezed her ass till it bled in several miniscule pinpricks. She leaned over me, her erect nipples poking my chest, our hot, staccato breaths mingling as we tried to regain some control over our bodies. I had shot a huge load in her, the largest I’d ever seen, in porn or otherwise. It must have been akin to a regulation size golf ball, shot off in four or five warm, stringy bursts deep inside her. It felt endless, like I came for a minute solid, like it’d never end. Tears were in my eyes.
The first thing I remember seeing was her smiling back at me, a self-satisfied smile, like she got what she wanted. She inched closer and kissed me, I feebly kissed her back, my hands massaging her hips. Moving her ass with expert precision she pushed my cock out and slid off to the side of me. She positioned her head on my shoulder and d****d an arm and a leg over mine.
I was still trying to catch my breath and re-orient myself in reality when I saw it. It was the most glorious and perfect sight ever seen by man. My dear stepsister’s shaved pussy was positively filled with my cum, stuffed with it, oozing with it. It resembled a pupil-less eye, staring right back at me, reaching into my soul. She lay against me quietly, her labored breaths rustling my chest hair, and made no attempt to clean herself. Overcome by the expulsion, my cock still dripping, I let my head drop back to the towel. With my one arm wrapped around her, I played my hand over her velvety black hair, across her cheek and to her mouth.
Without missing a beat, she took my index finger into her mouth and began fellating it, sucking on it and working up and down on it as if it were my cock, making a sincere effort, not just doing it for show.
I turned my head on its side, glancing for a half-second a line of my seed running across her thigh. The great homecoming fuck fantasy, shared by all soldiers in every war since time immemorial had come to fulfillment for me…and it had been with the girl, the woman, I’d wanted most of all…Lucy…my stepsister.
I continued to rasp like a wounded a****l as she pushed my index finger out of her mouth with her tongue and once extracted, gave the tip of it a little, loving kiss.
She stood in the doorway, illuminated by the midday sun, a picture of angelic perfection if there ever was one. She was about 160cm in height, just over eight stone, very skinny, not much meat on her. Her skin was as pale as the moon and she had shoulder-length midnight black hair that she usually wore long with her bangs crafted into a bulbous shape. Her lips were puffy and perpetually coated in fire truck red lipstick. Her ass was big for a girl of her size and very round, no doubt the product of countless squats. She liked to joke that she had a “J-Lo booty.” Her breasts too shared the perfection of circumference that her ass did and were pleasantly an exact handful. Her voice was cute, sweet, making her sound younger than her twenty-one years.
At the moment she was wearing a black crop top with some metal band’s name across the front in medieval era lettering and a pair of very short denim shorts. They were practically hot pants; they fit her snugly and revealed most of her smooth, milky thighs. Just peeking out of the top of her shorts was the white border of an orange and white bikini bottom. Similarly, her crop top was cut so short that the top of her swimsuit was visible in brief flashes, holding back her not inconsequential cleavage. She was barefoot and both her feet and her hands bore black nail polish. Her tongue was pierced with what looked like a tiny silver barbell. Her eyelashes were like that of a 1950s movie starlet, thick and noticeable.
She batted her eyelashes at me now, kept her icy blue eyes locked on mine, a little smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.
There was one more thing about her that was as attractive as everything else about her put together….and when you combined that with the rest, she was irresistible, full-stop.
Her name was Lucy…and she was my stepsister.
I had just gotten back from a six month tour in Afghanistan with the Royal Marines. It had been brutal, worse than training, if that’s possible. Murderous heat during the day, bone-chilling cold at night, people out to kill you, wanting to kill you in the worst way, endless patrols, the boredom, the anger, the complete and utter sexual frustration. The latter perhaps affected our unit most universally. They weren’t any women in our platoon and the nearest village consisted of only a handful of women all above the age of sixty. For six months we didn’t even so much as hear a female voice over the radio. Everyone was starved half-mad without exception, but I had a secret weapon.
Lucy was the only person, family or friend, who wrote me regularly and kept it up the whole time I was over there. We’d only known each other a few, short years since our parents eloped, but it felt much, much longer. And I admit, I’d always had a crush on her and I challenge any heterosexual male to look at her and imagine feeling otherwise, relations aside. Of course, I never expressed it, and I didn’t know how she felt, though she was always sweet and playful with me, teasing me that I must have a very active sex life. If only she knew. She also kept a picture of me, musclebound and shirtless during Marine training, in her room on a nightstand. I was always far too scared to make a move though and desperately tried to conceal how I felt. She must have noticed though…somehow.
Not only did she write me regularly for my whole tour, but with each letter came pictures. In one shot she was dressed in a red flannel crop top and tight jean shorts while sitting on a log in the woods, looking pensive. In another she was dressed in black combat boots, a barely thigh length black shirt, and a band t-shirt. She was into the Goth scene a bit, but could also look absolutely ordinary (well as ordinary as it got for a girl as good looking as her) when the situation warranted it. My favorite picture that she sent me was of her in an orange bikini with white borders along the edges, standing with one leg slightly curled upward atop a sand dune at the beach. Christ, she looked amazing. Her stomach was absolutely flat, her “V” line well-defined, her hip bones prominent, and she had cute little brown birth marks littering her body. As if to drive the point home, she included another picture of her in the orange-and-white bikini, this one from behind. She was looking over her shoulder, one hand on her left hip, her shapely ass jutting towards the camera ever so slightly, back dimples clearly visible. That bikini bottom was pressed on her so tight, and it was so sheer, that if you looked hard enough you could see the outline of her ass like the moon over the day. The look she was giving the camera was a smiling, happy one, but below the surface (and perhaps just in my mind), it was an inviting one, a tempting one, almost a commanding one. I shamelessly jerked myself off to that photo dozens of times, I dreamed of it at night, and hallucinated about it while on countless patrols in the arid mountains. I was the only one in my unit to genuinely smile those last few months.
Through our constant correspondence in which we spoke of everything and anything yet rarely touched on the war, we came to the agreement that when I got back, we’d spend a whole day together, just us. It would be a brother-sister day, to celebrate, to see each other again, to welcome me back home, to just be alive. The thought of such a day sustained me through many a wearing time over there. Furthermore, we settled on going swimming in a lake within the mountains. We both knew the spot and had previously hiked past it a few times during various outings with friends and family. I made her promise to wear that orange-and-white bikini. “Don’t worry, you’ll get to see me in it ; ),” she wrote back.
I quite literally shook with excitement when I read her reply.
As I knocked on her door, I still hadn’t quite stopped quivering at the thought of a whole day with her. In another moment, the door opened and I could think no more.
“brother!” she squeaked before practically running into my arms, jumping at the last second and wrapping her legs around me, clasping them together firmly just at the small of my back.
We embraced tightly, my heart beating out of my chest, lost in the moment of our reunion. I felt her luscious, warm lips kiss my cheek, then she looked me in the eyes. I stared back at her, happy to be home, overjoyed to see my dear stepsister who’d saved my morale from hitting rock bottom over there.
Without a word more, we kissed. There was no tongue, it was just a peck, but she held it a second too long. And in that second, I knew I couldn’t hold back my unbearable feelings for her. Before the day was out, I was determined to see just how mutual those feelings were.
She pulled back and smiled at me, I felt my cock hardening rapidly and pressing up against her. Overwhelmed and a little embarrassed, I set her down gently. She took a step back, looked me over, up and down. She wet her lips, smiled at me, and looked me in the eyes, matching my gaze.
“Well, are we going?” she asked expectantly, eagerly almost.
“Uh, y-yes, uh we are,” I stuttered, trying to regain my composure.
Going with my gut, I held out my hand, she took it, and together we walked to my jeep.
The ride to the mountains was uneventful. It was a hot, humid day out, not a cloud in the sky, the brilliant blueness of the atmosphere almost blinding at times. She continued to hold my hand as we drove. She made point of putting on a pair of silver, almost metallic looking aviator sunglasses. An accessory, might I add, that I had mentioned in one of my letters as something that looked ravishing on “the right girl.” My jeep was an old clunker, a 1970s civilian version of the standard-issue military jeep. It had no roof or doors and was sky blue in color. About the only thing of value on it were its monstrous tires, a feature which necessitated me grabbing Lucy by the waist and hoisting her aboard. She enjoyed that I could tell, letting off an adorable giggle. No sooner was I seated did she take my hand again.
Looking over at her, the window tossing her silky black hair, whipping her crop top, the heavy metal blasting, our hands tangled together upon her thigh, the brutal humidity of the day washed away, the fact that I was home wasn’t just hitting me hard, but the fact that I was with her. And with her amorous interest suspect, I had no reason to hold back.
I drove as fast as I could and quite aggressively, eliciting a few more giggles from her. I was dying to know how the day would turn out. I could not stand to wait a second longer than necessary in the most literal sense.
After we both jumped down from the jeep, she removed her sunglasses, came around to my side and hugged me, hard, resting her head on my chest, doubtlessly feeling its muscular composition.
“I’m so happy you’re back,” she cooed, sincere relief in her voice.
“I won’t leave again,” I muttered, mindlessly stroking her hair as she desperately clung to me.
She looked up at me with her baby blue eyes, an almost pleading look about her. Delicately, she extricated herself from me and we exchanged warm smiles once again. I put an arm around her waist, running a finger or two over her pronounced hip bone again and again, and silently we made our way to the lake.
Upon reaching the muddy bank of the mountain lake, we set a towel down. It was picturesque, a more serene setting you couldn’t have asked for. The birds were chirping, the smell of fresh grass was carried on the wind, the crisp mountain air filled our lungs, and the cool shade of the trees provided a welcome contrast to the unforgiving afternoon sun.
“It’s just like I remember it,” I murmured without thinking.
“Ready to swim?” Lucy inquired of me, a sparkle in her eyes, seemingly as eager as I was.
“I’m ready,” I answered, holding our eye contact.
Without a word more she turned and began peeling herself out of her clothes, following her lead I turned and did the same. I had on a pair of green swim trunks that were the same shade of green as the beret all Royal Marines wore. Behind me I heard her unzip her jean shorts.
As quickly as I could I changed and turned around to face her and there she stood, just like the picture she sent me, except a hundredfold better as she was real, in front of me, and perhaps desired me as terribly as I her. She even curled her right leg a little to assume the same pose she was holding in the photograph. She smiled at me, cocking her head in a “what do you think” fashion.
Stunned by the fantasy of so many lonely, starved nights in Afghanistan coming to life, I couldn’t muster a word. I managed a step forward and that was it. It felt like I was having a heart attack and I noticed myself breathing hard, as though I was in the middle of a 30 kilometer ruck.
She stepped forward as well, into my arms again, my hands finding the dimples on her back. She looked up at me, moved closer, and again, our lips met in perfect synchronicity. Again, it was held a second too long, sending a bolt of lightning through me. Now it could not be denied. The taste of her lips matched her demeanor, vibrant and sweet. Her lips rivaled peaches in terms of juicy succulence and they were so big they nearly engulfed mine. She pulled away nonchalantly and gave me a devilish smile.
“Let’s go,” she said softly, before turning and slowly walking into the lake, looking back over her shoulder at me. Gradually, the water inched up her pale, slender, birthmark-covered body. She held her eye contact with me till it was up to the middle of her back.
Still recovering from our passionate kiss, I couldn’t even mutter an answer. I merely willed myself forward and followed after her, my body shaking visibly and badly, my mind scrambled. She wanted me, and I definitely wanted her, now I just had to press it home. I was always nervous around attractive women, Lucy included. Her reciprocation did a lot to mitigate that, but still my very being was going wild, mad at the prospect of having her.
Lucy swam about lake effortlessly, her toned body parting the murky mountain water as if she were part-submarine. I swam around aimlessly, my mind racing about what I should do next. My heart was thumping so strongly by this point that it was making ripples in the water. I was busy trying to comprehend the whirlwind of events that had transpired since I picked her up just an hour earlier when I noticed her gliding towards me.
With just her head above the water and a cheeky smile on her face, she approached me. Caught off guard, I made eye contact with her and addressed her first.
“Hey Lucy, the waters’ like bathwater today,” I stammered, my cock already stiffening at her close proximity.
Wordlessly she latched on to me, wrapping her legs around me, and resting her head on my shoulder. I felt her legs clamp together behind my back.
“I missed you,” she whimpered.
I tenderly stroked her hair, which was still dry, before putting my hands underneath her deliciously round ass, supporting her in the water.
“Well, I’m here now and I won’t be going away again,” I told her, lying as I knew the Marines could very well call me back for another tour, but wanting badly to make her feel safe and reassured.
She lifted her head from my shoulder, we locked eyes, and kissed, full-on and passionately. Instantly, my stiff cock, already pressed up against her stomach, began throbbing, pulsating as more blood thundered into it. We held the kiss for a long second. She pulled back, uncurled herself from me, giggled once more and swam off towards the shore. I felt toyed with for a second, but only a second. The mere kiss had caused me to pre-cum a little from its sheer intensity. Watching her ass pop above the water as she stroked to shore, seeing the outline of her curves…it reinvigorated me, caused me to regain my self-possession. I was going to go for it.
I pursued her to the shoreline and onto the bank. She stood on our towel, seemingly waiting for me. I trudged up to her and stood beside her, trying to conceal my uncontrollable shake.
“What’s the hurry?” she asked playfully, looking me up and down, the ever-present smile stretched across her face.
“I wanted another kiss from my dear stepsister who I missed sooo much,” I blurted out, not concealing it any longer.
Before she could reply I took her into my arms and kissed her. She moaned in surprise for a second before her arms wrapped around me. My hands slid down her back as I went in for another kiss, this time with tongue, as much as I wanted. She responded as I hoped, rubbing her tongue against mine, our pace increasing, now fully locked in a passionate make-out. Her nails dug into my back, my hands cupped her perfect ass and squeezed hard. I’d wanted to do that for years, I pawed her over and over, pushing her into me, my cock blossoming into a wholly hard raging erection, pressing against her stomach, undeniable, beating as if it had a heart of its own.
“brother…” she gasped as she broke away for just a second before our kissing recommenced, hotter and heavier than ever.
I ground myself against her, rubbing my cock against her sheathed pussy and glass-smooth stomach. My hands went under her bikini bottom and embraced her pale, symmetrical ass. She whimpered in reply, her one hand on the back of my head, pushing my tongue further down her throat. Before long, her other hand began pulling down my swim trunks. Abruptly she broke away, knelt before me, pulled my trunks the rest of the way down in one clean jerk, and confronted with my manhood at its peak, gripped it with one hand whilst showcasing a sinister smile.
Wasting no time, she took the length of it into her mouth, pressing it to the back of her throat, gagging on it, her precious blue eyes watering a tad. Her thick lips consumed my shaft, pressing on it with just enough pressure to drive me closer to orgasm every second they slid along my throbbing member. She worked herself up and down on it, stimulating my g-spot when she reached the tip with loving flicks of her pierced tongue. Hungrily, she moaned as she worked. She was an absolute expert at it, I had a hard time remaining standing. I’d never, never felt so helpless, so powerless, so dominated yet so absolutely thrilled at the same time in my whole life. My hands weakly gripped her head as my breaths came in hard rasps. It even sounded like it does in the movies, you know, that watery gurgling sound. I was going to cum any second, I couldn’t take it, couldn’t stand up to the tornado of gentle yet forceful tongue thrusts she was blanketing my manhood in. I caught myself involuntarily moaning as she pulled back and let my cock d**** over her face, her tongue impishly jabbing at it.
“Lucy…….” I wheezed.
She let go of me just before I was about to burst, seeming to detect the rapidly increasing pace of the blood pounding through my cock. Still on her knees, she grabbed my arms and pulled me down to her level. I welcomed the chance to sit, I was so destroyed from her intense oral gymnastics that I could barely have told you my first name. Smiling evilly, she pushed me onto my back.
“brother….” she whispered again, locking eyes with me.
I heard her making some movements down below as our stare-down continued, but thought nothing of it, instead concentrating deeply on restoring my breathing. She leaned over me and we kissed again, her tongue playing with mine. In another moment, I was overcome by the intensely pleasurable sensation of her lowering herself onto my engorged manhood. She was remarkably tight, but wet enough so that there was no resistance. She leaned back, finding the “sweet spot,” and was now sitting astride me, her ass pushing down, getting every last inch of my cock driven deep inside her. Down she slid till her cute bum touched my balls. She let off a moan and a pained expression danced across her features. After placing her hands on my chest, she dutifully began popping herself up and down on my cock.
My hands instinctively gripped her ass, gently guiding her as she rode me at an increasingly hard and fast rate, quickly coating my cock with her cum.
“Oh, brother…” she moaned as she steadied herself, hands on the ground, and twerked her ass rapidly up and down on me, her eyes shut tight, lost in rapturous caverns of pleasure, lost in the moment.
I held her by the hips, focused on plunging myself balls deep into her with every thrust. Unable to contain myself, I felt up her flawless stomach and pushed my hands underneath her bikini top, caressing her hard nipples. I pushed the bikini top up over her puffy tits, exposing them. They jiggled in time with her bouncing and reminded me of cupcakes with a cherry on top. I groped them madly, so many years, so many fantasies all coming to fruition in a matter of minutes, nothing in my life even held a candle to it.
She sat back on my cock, pulled her bikini top over her head, and remained upright, her fingertips on my chest again. She started a down and out rhythm to her riding, slamming down on me at first before pushing her ass back in time. I couldn’t hold on much longer, though I wanted it to last forever. How I lasted as long as I did was something of a miracle.
An overwhelming burst of pleasure hit me, the precursor to the inevitable, explosive orgasm. I gripped her ass, hard, my fingernails digging into it u*********sly. For a moment, I couldn’t breathe. I heard her moaning, now more like shrieking, increase in tempo. I caught her smile out of the corner of my upturned eye, she knew what she was doing, and what would come next.
After pushing herself down on me extremely roughly a few more times, I lost it. My muscle-control and ability to think rationally went out the window. I was fucked into another dimension quite literally. I squeezed her ass till it bled in several miniscule pinpricks. She leaned over me, her erect nipples poking my chest, our hot, staccato breaths mingling as we tried to regain some control over our bodies. I had shot a huge load in her, the largest I’d ever seen, in porn or otherwise. It must have been akin to a regulation size golf ball, shot off in four or five warm, stringy bursts deep inside her. It felt endless, like I came for a minute solid, like it’d never end. Tears were in my eyes.
The first thing I remember seeing was her smiling back at me, a self-satisfied smile, like she got what she wanted. She inched closer and kissed me, I feebly kissed her back, my hands massaging her hips. Moving her ass with expert precision she pushed my cock out and slid off to the side of me. She positioned her head on my shoulder and d****d an arm and a leg over mine.
I was still trying to catch my breath and re-orient myself in reality when I saw it. It was the most glorious and perfect sight ever seen by man. My dear stepsister’s shaved pussy was positively filled with my cum, stuffed with it, oozing with it. It resembled a pupil-less eye, staring right back at me, reaching into my soul. She lay against me quietly, her labored breaths rustling my chest hair, and made no attempt to clean herself. Overcome by the expulsion, my cock still dripping, I let my head drop back to the towel. With my one arm wrapped around her, I played my hand over her velvety black hair, across her cheek and to her mouth.
Without missing a beat, she took my index finger into her mouth and began fellating it, sucking on it and working up and down on it as if it were my cock, making a sincere effort, not just doing it for show.
I turned my head on its side, glancing for a half-second a line of my seed running across her thigh. The great homecoming fuck fantasy, shared by all soldiers in every war since time immemorial had come to fulfillment for me…and it had been with the girl, the woman, I’d wanted most of all…Lucy…my stepsister.
I continued to rasp like a wounded a****l as she pushed my index finger out of her mouth with her tongue and once extracted, gave the tip of it a little, loving kiss.
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