Gemma free porn video

I was in the front garden mowing the lawn, it was a hot Sunday in August and I was just wearing shorts and a sleeveless t-shirt, there was an ice-cold bottle of beer sweating on doorstep.

When I’d finished the lawn I sat down on the step and took a long pull on the bottle.

“Hey Mr Carter...”

I looked up, it was my neighbour’s kid, she was stood on the driveway with a parcel in her hands.

“Oh hey Gemma, how’re you doing?”

“I’m doing great, I love this weather, so hot.”

“It’s too hot for gardening, but the lawn was way too long.”

“Yeah, mum was saying it was like a jungle.”

“It wasn’t that bad ... well maybe a little.”

“Oh, this parcel came for you, you must have been out and the driver left it with mum yesterday.”

“Ahh, great, thanks.”

I took the parcel and pushing the door open behind me I tossed it into the house without taking my eyes off Gemma.

“Are you staring at my boobs Mr Carter?”

If truth be told I was, but in my defence, they were quite magnificent, especially on a girl her age, she was about 15 I think.

Everything about Gemma was spectacular, she was tall for her age, 5’ 9”, with long naturally blonde hair, she was slim as well, with a decent sized backside. I was struck by how much she’d changed since the last time I’d seen her about a year ago when she moved in with her dad, now it looks like she’s moved back with her mum.

“Well, no, I err...”

“It’s OK Mr Carter, you can look if you like. Here, you can have a better look,” and she lifted her t-shirt, her full breasts first lifting then dropping against her chest as they were freed from her shirt.

I was frozen in shock for a second or two, then I quickly told her to put them away as I hurriedly looked around to check none of the neighbours had seen what just happened.

“Haha, did I shock you?”

“Well, yes. You shouldn’t do stuff like that in public. Anyway, while you’re here you can make yourself useful, grab the rake from the shed and help me clear the grass cuttings.”

“I will if you tell me what was in the parcel.”

“Oh nothing special, just some things for my camera.”

“Boring...”, she called as she walked to the shed at the back of the house while I flipped the lawn mower over to scrape the grass off the blades.

She was soon back with the rake and wheelbarrow and we spent an hour raking up the grass then weeding the flowerbeds and pruning some bushes.

As we worked Gemma spent a lot of the time deliberately bending forwards so I could see down her top, and I spent a lot of the time adjusting my shorts in a vain attempt to hide my growing erection.

I also spent some time pondering where Gemma had inherited her figure, because she was already a lot bigger than her mother, Judy, who I knew intimately as she cleaned my house twice a week, and shared my bed on many an afternoon while I really should be working.

When all the grass cuttings were in the barrow Gemma wheeled it into the back while I followed carrying the rake and pushing the mower. At the bottom of the garden she tipped the barrow so the grass cuttings tumbled onto the compost heap.

“Woo, that’s hot work” she gasped, mopping her brow with the hem of her t-shirt revealing her substantial underboob in the process.

I’m going to have to be careful here, Gemma is a major temptation and the last thing I want is to get entangled with a minor, I’d lose my licence to work in my industry if I got caught out.

But still, she was simply stunning, and didn’t she just help me with the garden when she could have just walked away...

“Sit yourself down Gemma, I’ll go get you a cold drink, what would you like?”

“Can I have a beer?”

“Probably not, I’ve got Coke, Dr Pepper or milk.”

“Dr Pepper then please.”

I got a can of Dr Pepper and a beer from the fridge and we sat in the garden enjoying the sunshine and our drinks. We chatted about school and music and sports then Gemma got up to go as she heard her mum arrive home.

“See you tomorrow Mr Carter.”

“Err OK Gemma, see you.”

Why would she be back tomorrow?

I was still in the garden reading a book when I heard the side gate squeak and Judy’s voice, “You in the garden Matt?”

“Yeah,”

“Sorry to disturb you, I just wanted to apologise because I need to go down to my sister’s for a few days, so I won’t be able to clean for you tomorrow.”

“That’s OK, the place is pretty straight anyway.”

“Oh no, I couldn’t leave you in the lurch, so I was thinking as Gemma is on holiday from school and just hanging around, she could do for you this week. She’s a good girl and a hard worker, so I’m sure she’ll do a good job, and I’m pretty sure she could do with the money.”

“Ahh right, yes, that would be fine, I know she works hard, she helped me with the garden this morning.”

“Yes, she said she’d been helping you; I hope she wasn’t any trouble.”

“None at all Judy, she worked hard and we got everything done in less than half the time it would have taken me on my own.”

“Great stuff, so if she comes round at 10 tomorrow morning and the same on Wednesday. I’ll give her a list of all the jobs she needs to do, and make sure she knows not to disturb you while you’re working. I think you’ll be happy with Gemma, she’s actually better at ironing than I am, so your shirts and work pants will be immaculate, she did all the washing and ironing for her dad, and she’s a great cook as well, if you want she can make your dinner and put some aside for the rest of the week.”

“I can’t expect her to do more work than you do Judy.”

“Keep her busy Matt, that’s the trick or her mind tends to wander.”

“Ahh, we wouldn’t want that. I’ll keep her busy. If you’re away all week will she be OK at home?”

“Oh yeah, she’ll be fine, she’s very grown up but can get bored easily. It’s only a few days and we’ve got Netflix to keep her occupied.”

“Well, if she wants someone to talk to in real life rather than online, I don’t mind her coming over of an evening this week, I’ve got Netflix as well.”

“That’s very kind of you.”

“No problem, I’ll enjoy the company.”

“Great, I’ll let Gemma know you’re OK for her to cover for me this week, now I’ve got to go, I’ve got a cake in the oven for my sister, i don’t want it to burn.”

With that she was gone.

Good god, how would I cope with Gemma for a week?

Monday and I was working in my office upstairs. I write software for schools, at the moment I’m designing a drawing package for use on interactive touchscreen displays, lots of bold colours for primary school kids. I feel sorry for whoever has to keep the screens clean after the kids have run their sticky fingers all over them.

My mind was fully on piece of code that kept failing when I heard the door open downstairs.

“Hey Mr Carter, I won’t disturb you I know what I’m doing today, I’ve got a list. Let me know when you want some lunch, mum told me I’m cooking for you all week, thanks for letting me work for you, this is going to be so much fun.”

“OK Gemma,” I shouted down the stairs, “don’t worry about disturbing me if there’s anything you can’t find.”

And true to her word, I didn’t hear a peep out of Gemma all morning, well apart from her singing as she worked, but she had a nice voice, and was singing a good range of songs, so I turned my radio off, opened my office door and listened to Gemma instead.

I stopped work at 12:30 and went downstairs, I could hear Gemma in the lounge, she was singing a Lana Del Rey song as she was plumping the cushions on the sofa, then I was struck dumb when I saw her the mirror.

“Errr, Gemma, could you do me a massive favour and put some clothes on.”

“Oh sorry, I always do the housework naked.”

“That’s nice, but it’s not really appropriate for you to do it naked with other people in the house.”

“OK Mr Carter, I’ll get my clothes.”

Then the little minx walked right past me into the kitchen and picked up her clothes and dressed while I was watching.

“Is this better?”

“Much better, thanks.”

“Did you come down to ask me something?” She asked sweetly.

“I was just going to make myself a sandwich.”

“No you don’t, I’ll make it, mum told me what you like, I’ll bring it upstairs.” Then she nodded to the flask I had in my hand, “do you want me to make you a fresh flask of tea?”

I was struck dumb again, Judy really had given Gemma a complete jobs list.

“The flask,” she prompted, a smile on her lips.

“Errr ... oh ... yes, thank you,” I put it on the kitchen counter and wandered back upstairs in a daze.

“Here you go Mr Carter, corned beef, extra mature cheddar and Branston Pickle on thick sliced bread. A chocolate eclair and a flask of Yorkshire Tea.”

“Thanks Gemma, your mum gave you a complete jobs list.”

“Yes, Mr Carter, she did, and I’m ticking off the jobs as I go through. I’m going to have a cup of tea next then I’ll do your ironing.”

“Please Gemma, call me Matthew, or Matt, calling me Mr Carter all the time, it’s too formal.”

“OK.”

With that Gemma left the room, as she reached the door she turned and said, “mum told me to do everything she does for you, everything.”

And she was gone.

Everything?

Did that mean ... absolutely everything?

I tried to put that thought out of my mind and ate my sandwiches, which were exactly like Judy made, right down to the salad leaves and pickle. The tea was just right as well, brewed for exactly 4 minutes and just a dribble of milk added.

I managed to solve the problem that was causing the code crashes and sat back and checked my emails, a few new requests for demos in schools, a lot of spam, and a message from Judy checking that Gemma was doing OK, I said she was absolutely perfect. Judy responded straight away saying she was glad Gemma was performing satisfactorily and telling me she’d told Gemma to do everything she did, the everything was underlined.

I worked solidly until 4, then I set the code to compile and risked going downstairs.

As I reached the foot of the stairs I looked in the kitchen and saw a beautiful peachy backside!

My stealthy approach was foiled by the creaky floorboard in front of the kitchen door.

“Now before you say anything Matt,” Gemma started, “it’s way too hot to expect me to iron with clothes on.”

“I wasn’t going to say anything.”

Damn straight I wasn’t, I was all for standing there watching those arse cheeks jiggle as she ironed.

“So what did you want?” She asked, then continued before I could answer, “Oh look at the time.”

I was puzzled.

Gemma reached over and turned the iron off then took my hand and led me upstairs.

Then it struck me.

Everything.

In my room Gemma took hold of the hem on my polo shirt and pulled it over my head, I was in a daze and dumbly lifted my arms as she pulled the shirt up,

Then she knelt and unbuttoned the fly on my jeans. they dropped to the floor, unconsciously I stepped out of them and Gemma picked them up and folded them neatly on top of my polo shirt.

My boxers were severely tented and as Gemma pulled them down my engorged cock sprang out and slapped my belly, she gave a little giggle then helped me step out of the boxers before she placed them on top of my other clothes, I was now as naked as she was.

Gemma took hold of my manhood, she slowly caressed it, she spat on her palms and started to move her hands faster, bringing me to full hardness she wanked me harder and faster, I was helpless in her hands which were skilled beyond her years.

In next to no time I reached the point of no return, Gemma sensed this and slowed her ministrations, using her left hand to start massaging my balls. She leant forwards and took the tip of my cock in her mouth, the first touch of her tongue on my cock head was the tipping point, my balls contracted and a thick string of cum landed on Gemma’s tongue, quickly followed my two, three, four more spurts. My knees buckled and I almost fell but Gemma quickly moved her hands to my bum and back and kept me upright.

She swallowed my cum, licked her lips and stood. She slapped my bum and left the room, calling back “I need to get the ironing finished, get yourself dressed and we’ll sort something for dinner in a little while.”

Now that’s not what I expected to happen.

I dressed, then for want of something to do while Gemma finished my ironing I went back in the office and checked my emails and socials, nothing new in my work email account, and nothing interesting in my socials. On a whim I tapped Gemma’s name into the search bar, I was surprised how few friends she has, but she was chatty with the ones she had, I looked through her photos, going back through her feed to a year ago when I’d last seen her regularly, yes, she was almost unrecognisable, she’d filled out amazingly.

I scrolled through her feed again, something else struck me, there was chat for the last couple of weeks, and chat from a year ago, but nothing in between, like she’d been in prison for 12 months.

Weird.

“Ironing’s finished Matt, do you want to put it away or shall I?”

I dashed downstairs and thankfully she was dressed, “It’s OK, I’ll put it away,” I scooped up an armful of shirts and took them upstairs, two more trips and the ironing was all in my wardrobe.

“So, what do you want to eat?” Gemma asked.

“What do you want?”

“No idea, lets have a look in your fridge.”

We settled on steak and chips, Gemma cooked one of the best steaks I’ve ever had, her tip, oil the steak, not the pan, and get the pan as hot as you can without melting it. She also poured wine in the pan as it was cooking.

We ate in the lounge, watching Stranger Things on Netflix, then we ate some ice cream. I insisted on washing up, I couldn’t let Gemma do it after cooking such a wonderful meal.

“Gemma, can I ask you something?”

“Anything you like,” she answered brightly.

“Well, you seem, well, awfully mature for a girl your age.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I can’t imagine too many girls your age would have got me off quite so skilfully as you did earlier.”

“Oh that, I’ve been doing dad like that for ages.”

I nearly spat my wine out at that.

“Ahh, so does Judy know about that?”

“Oh yes, that’s why I’m not there anymore. I’m not sure how I feel about it all. He never hurt me or anything, never even touched me, but I admit what he had me doing was a bit creepy.”

“Are you OK talking about this?”

“Well, like I say, he never hurt me, I was just creeped out at times, but I’m fine talking. That is as long as you don’t tell anyone else, because Mum doesn’t want a fuss causing, as I’ll get all kinds of hassle.”

“OK, I won’t tell anyone, but maybe you should consider if he’s done stuff with you, won’t he do stuff to other girls.”

“I don’t know, maybe, but if I tell you the whole thing, it’ll make it easier to see that he’s probably harmless, if a bit weird.”

“OK, but only tell me stuff you’re comfortable talking about, I don’t want you reliving anything traumatic.”

“Believe me, no trauma, although I was majorly freaked out at first.”

“OK, let me get us some more wine, then tell me everything.”

“Oh, yeah, and while I remember, mum said I was OK staying over this week, because she said I shouldn’t stay in the house on my own.”

Now this is definitely not what we’d agreed, just staying in the evening to watch TV.

“Err, is that what she said, because she is aware I only have one bed.”

“Oh, that’s not a problem.”

“Right...”

It kind of is a problem, there’s no way I could stand sharing a bed with this gorgeous girl all week and stay legal, but Judy knows I’ve only got one bed, so...

“You know what Matt, I think I’ll be more comfortable talking lying down.”

“OK, whatever, I’ll bring the wine up.”

And as I expected, she was sat up in bed, totally naked, but looking like this was the most natural thing in the world.

Oh shit, what on earth have I let myself in for?

So, with nothing to lose but my spotless criminal record I put the wine down on my beside cabinet, undressed and slipped into bed.

“So, let me tell you about my dad.”

It all started when mum and dad divorced about 6 years ago, I can guess why they divorced, and you probably will when I tell you more.

Mum won custody, so that was great, I got to stay here and didn’t have to change school and lose my friends. But about a year ago mum lost her job, she was really struggling, I think you were her only regular work then, so dad offered to look after me for a while, until mum got back on her feet.

Very generous you might think.

Mum wasn’t so sure, but I had no idea at the time and said I’d like to see him again, and she was really struggling to feed us both and pay for school stuff like the bus and trips and stuff. So she let me go, just a couple of months she said. So I packed a suitcase and got a National Express down to dad’s, he lives near Bristol, so like 5 hours sat on a bus with loads of people I don’t know, and don’t want to know. I wasn’t in the best of moods when I got off at the coach station.

But Bristol was a nice place, and I had a couple of hours before Dad was due to pick me up, so I had a look around and found a nice café for something to eat.

So, like I said, it was 6 years ago, maybe more, it’s all a bit hazy, which means I was 8 or 9 when I saw him last, but he’d changed so much. He looked a lot older, he’d lost a lot of weight. More than I would have expected from those few years.

Anyway, he recognised me, mum must have sent him photos, or maybe I was the only girl my age around, but he came straight up to me at the café, said hello and bought more drinks and some cake.

He had a nice car, not as nice as your Porsche Matt, but nice, a BMW, one of those big 4-wheel drive ones. I got to thinking that maybe he was keeping money hidden from Social Services or whatever, because mum said he was always complaining about not being able to afford maintenance payments.

But, whatever, I was 14 years old, what do I know about anything.

So we get to his house and I’m immediately on edge, it was big, on it’s own, nothing around, but surrounded by a high fence and trees. I was instantly thinking, if this was a horror film I’d be the blonde girl who dies first.

I tried not to let my apprehension show, almost like when they say bad dogs can smell fear.

The gates open as dad drives up, as we drive through they close straight away and dad parks up. I grabbed my case and we go in the house.

From the outside it looked like the house was dark and imposing, but on the inside it was really light. Every room had lots of lights. I thought it all looked like a TV studio. I’ve been in a TV audience, the lights on the stage are almost blinding.

It’s also really warm in the house, like he’d got the heating on even though it was July.

As Dad showed me to my room he told me that I wasn’t to wear any clothing in the house, something about his religion. I was a bit, well shocked isn’t quite enough, horrified is probably better, by this thought. He said this was normal, and so I could get used to it, we could both wear underwear for a few days.

He also said his religion forbade the use of mobile phones and the Internet.

At this point I did wonder which religion was against clothes and technology, but how could I check without a phone?

At the weekend he told me that now was the time to strip off completely, and do you know what, after wearing just bra and panties for a few days I was actually OK wearing nothing.

When I asked him later that week about school he said the local schools were all full, but he had books and I could study at home.

He did have books, and full curriculum guides for maths and English and science. So I studied from home. At this point I thought I was only going to be there a month and I didn’t want to fall behind, so I studied a lot.

I also did all dad’s housework, cleaning, washing, ironing, cooking, all naked. Although I was allowed to wear an apron so I didn’t burn my boobs when cooking.

The third week, that’s when things got weird, not that the first two weeks weren’t odd.

I was on my knees cleaning out the coal fire in his music room when he came and stood right in front of me.

Oh I forgot, when I had to stop wearing my bra and panties, he kept his undies on, seemingly his religion only forbids females from wearing clothes.

So, yes, I was on my knees scraping out the ashes from the fire, you know, open fires look nice, but they’re really hard work, and so dirty. Well, there I am and he comes and stands next to me calls my name “Gemma, I need you to do something for me.”

Like I haven’t been doing stuff for him 24/7 for the last fortnight.

I look at him and he’s stood there stark bollock naked.

And do you know what, I could barely see his willy, it was almost an innie like his belly button.

I managed to keep a straight face though, and said all innocent like “What do you want me to do, sir?”

Oh yes, I had to call him sir.

“Well, I you need to service me, like the good serving wench you claim to be.”

Now, I have to say at this point that I don’t believe I ever claimed to be a serving wench, good or not, but I knew that to claim otherwise at that point would be a bad idea, a very bad idea. I was thinking back to when I arrived and being the dumb blonde girl who dies first.

I was also thinking what he meant by service, I had an idea, but I was trying to dismiss it, but nothing else I could think of fit the situation of naked man standing in front of naked girl.

Yes, I think I was expected to get him off.

I had a basic grasp of biology, and what was needed to get a man off, so to speak, so I reached out and tentatively took hold of his penis, which by now had emerged, like an expectant tortoise from its shell.

Remember this afternoon, of course you do, I needed two hands on your cock, and I couldn’t close my hand around it fully, well I used just my thumb and first finger on him, it never grew bigger than my thumb. He didn’t last long either, I’d barely got started when he came, must have been about 15 seconds, maybe less, but bloody hell, he well and truly came, loads of it, all over my tits, a lot thinner than yours, like milk instead of your creamy cum.

“Back to work now,” he commanded before he scurried off, so I had to work with sticky spunk all over myself for the rest of the afternoon.

That was the first time, he was back again a few hours later, I was making dinner then, he lasted a couple of minutes this time, and shot a bit less, but still more than I’d ever imagine from such a small cock. Each time I’d have to get back to work without cleaning up, with cum on my boobs, my face, my hair. At least when I blew him I could swallow it.

Sometimes if I was doing school work I’d end up dripping spunk all over my work, bloody good job I wasn’t having to hand it in to a teacher.

Some days I’d end up doing him 10 times, by the end of a day he was lasting 20 minutes or more and I’d have to use my mouth as well as my fingers, and he’d barely cum at all.

He never, ever touched me though, never laid a finger on me, didn’t even touch my head or hair while I was blowing him.

That was the bit I found weirdest, I could rationalise some old man, did I say, he’s older than mum, must be in his 50’s, wanting a sexy young girl blowing and wanking him, but I’d expect them to touch the girl, feel her boobs, slap her bum, some kind of reciprocal contact, but nothing.

I was there 12 months in total, then one day he told me mum was coming for me, so I was allowed to have a shower and get dressed. Which was lucky as I was dripping in cum again, he’d been extra horny that day.

I had a long, hot shower, opened my suitcase for the first time since I arrived, got out my favourite Hollister vest top and shorts the vest top was way tighter than it was when I arrived, but fuck it, I was getting out of there and as long as my boobs and ass were covered I didn’t care right then.

When the doorbell rang I walked out of that place never feeling so relieved in all my life.

“So, what do you think?”

“I think that’s the most fucked up story I’ve ever heard.”

“But do you know what’s even more fucked up? Apart from the dripping in cum parts, I enjoyed being naked 24/7, and my boobs grew so much in that time, I was like a B-cup when I arrived, I’m a DD now. Mum was so shocked. She thinks it’s because I was naked so had no bra to restrict their growth, that and being horny 24/7.”

“Did you tell her what was going on?”

“Only when we’d got home, she cried, but I told her he never touched me, and I was still a virgin, and yes it was weird, and freaky, and very, very wrong. But I was never in danger.

“At first she wanted to go straight back down there and do him some damage, but I didn’t want any hassle, then mum realised just what would happen if we did do something, it would be all over the papers and everything. And really, I’m not damaged by the experience, I’m not traumatised at all. So we decided to keep quiet.

“And as we talked it through mum told me about why she’d got divorced from him. He wasn’t like that then, she didn’t have to blow him 10 times a day or anything. No, mum is a horny little minx,” I smiled at this, and she saw me, “how do you know?” She slapped me playfully, “Oh my god, have you slept with mum? You never said. Well play your cards right and you can collect the set tonight.

“Anyway, mum, as you know, likes sexy times, but she got none with dad, because as it turns out, he can’t have sex with a lady, it would probably all work, if you could somehow get the bits to connect, but he mentally can’t have sex, the act repulses him, but he can ejeculate if he feels he’s dominating the woman, like he was with me.”

Ahh, this raised a question or two, “so, considering the situation, your mum’s needs vs your dad’s abilities, or lack there off, why did they stay together so long? And question number two, is he actually your father?”

“Well, the best I can gather is, he had a good job, it’s the money that kept them together, but his behaviour deteriorated and so eventually mum could stand it no longer.

“As for question 2, he’s on my birth certificate for convenience, but mum was, well, let’s just say she doesn’t know who dad is, there’s a number of candidates.”

This really got me thinking, and Gemma, the smart, observant girl she is, was at least three steps ahead of me.

“Matt, how long have you known mum?”

“Well, I’ve lived here 16 years.”

“And mum has lived here since they married, about 16 years ago.”

“Yes, and...”

“And you’ve been sleeping with mum how long?”

“Well, off and on, since we met, since before she married your dad, because she moved here to be next door to me.”

With this Gemma threw off the covers and pounced on me, she pinned my arms down and brought her face down to mine, our lips were touching as she growled, “You old dog, you’ve been fucking my mum forever and I didn’t know. Wait till she gets home.”

Well, I’m no monk, my powers of self control in some areas are distinctly lacking, and well, Gemma noticed this.

“Mmmm what’s that poking my bum?”

“I can’t manage 10 times a day honey, twice is good at my age.”

“You’re not much older than mum, I’m going to see what you can manage.”

With that she lifted up, let go of one of my arms and guided my cock to her pussy.

“I’m still a virgin at the moment Matt, do you want to take my cherry?”

“Right now I’ve never wanted anything more.”

A look of concern crossed her beautiful face, slightly denting the expectant glow.

“Will this hurt?”

“The first time sometimes does, but we’ll be gentle, and you’re on top, you’re in control.”

With that she pressed down, my cock head meeting her pussy lips which I could feel were already wet with anticipation. Gemma brought her face back down to mine and we locked lips in a passionate kiss as she gently lowered herself onto my by now rock hard cock.

She let out the merest of squeaks as she swallowed my whole cock in her virgin pussy. As she said earlier, my cock is quite a handful, and I was surprised that Gemma took it to the hilt without complaint, but as I keep finding out today, she’s quite a remarkable girl.

Gemma held still for a little while, getting used to the feeling of a hot, hard cock filling her up, we kissed passionately all the while, our lips apart, our tongues exploring, I was concerned that I was so horny by now I may disappoint her and cum before she really starts to fuck me. I tried to think of other things, the garden, Bristol came to mind, I started a walking tour of Bristol in my mind and found the distraction lessened the tension in my groin enough so when Gemma started to move again there was no immediate danger of ejeculation.