The Count of Monte CristoChapter 58 M Noirtier de Villefort
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"Judy?" Paul started. "Jesus Christ!" He stood in the doorway, rooted to the spot, his hand still on the doorknob. His eyes flickered from Judy to Mike and then back again. "Jesus Christ!"
"H-hello, Paul," Judy said lamely. "Mike was just..."
"I can imagine," Paul interrupted. "Jesus Christ!" He whirled and they heard him clattering down the hall.
Judy jumped to her feet and ran after him. "Wait, Paul, wait," she called out desperately. "It's not what it looks like, honest it isn't!"
She caught him just before he was going to open the front door. She wrapped her soft, warm nude body around his and pulled him away from the door. "Paul, you don't understand," she said desperately. "Please, Paul, listen to me."
Shrugging her off rudely, he tried to open the door. "What's to listen to? It's damned obvious what you and Mike were up to. You don't need me. I thought it was just you and me, but if you want Mike instead of me, okay. Just count me out."
Judy felt a little relieved at this. At least Paul didn't have any hangups about incest--at least he wasn't holding that up to her. It was just simple jealousy, and that was something she could deal with.
"Please, Paul, please, it really is only you and me, honest it is," she told him frantically, grabbing his hand off the doorknob and pressing his arm into the warm, soft exciting valley between her jiggling breasts.
Paul stopped trying to pull free of her but remained wary. "It sure looked like something else. You and Mike rolling around on the bed, both naked. GEEZ! You trying to tell me nothing had happened or was about to happen?"
Judy felt his fingers pressing into her pubic bush, his knuckles grinding into the top of her slit where the nubbin of her clitoris always seemed to be eager for attention. She tilted her pelvis to increase the pressure and give his hand access to more of her bushy pussy. "Well, I mean, gee, Paul, he is my brother," she began cautiously. "I mean, like, well, it's not like he was just any boy." Like Harry, she added silently.
"Well, that's true," Paul acknowledged reluctantly.
"Paul, if you pull out now, you'll mess up the whole thing," Judy pointed out. "And if you were seen coming out of this house all of a sudden someone would probably call the police and we'd all get caught."
"Yeah," he muttered. "But if it isn't just you and me, I don't care what happens to us."
"It is just you and me," Judy lied vehemently. "Come on and I'll show you how much you mean to me."
"I don't know," Paul muttered.
"Please, Paul, I'm--I'm horny," Judy said. "All Mike and I were doing was playing with each other, like we've done for years. It got me all hot. I need you!" She rolled and twisted her pelvis, grinding his knuckles into her crotch. At the same time, she was managing to press her full breasts around his upper arm like soft warm pillows. She held him close to her, one breast pressing against his chest. Her nipple was berry-hard, a pert pink bud digging into his T-shirt.
Judy hadn't really been lying about being horny. Even though she had just finished screwing with her brother, the touch of Paul's hand against her sex had rapidly built her excitement. Sensuously, she twisted and cuddled and rolled against her boyfriend, licking her lips with desire. Keeping one hand on his wrist, maintaining his pressure on her mons, she slid the other down to the hot bulge in his crotch, gently stroking his thrusting, expanding prick through his pants.
"Come on, Paul," she urged softly, pulling him away from the door, backing into the living room. It was hard to keep his hand in contact with her vibrant, quivering bush, but she man aged to do it. Walking backwards made her smooth, exciting upper thighs press against the back of his hand, increasing her excitement. Her pubic arch rolled against his knuckles at every cautious step.
With one corner of her mind, she wondered what had happened with Mike. The rest of the house was silent. Had he left? Probably he was discreetly out of sight. She felt a flare of excitement at the thought that he might be watching. She didn't know why she wanted Mike to be watching her make love to Paul, but she did. She wondered how he would feel, seeing her being taken by another boy. She hoped it would make him jealous. She had been jealous when she had watched him making love to Cynthia.
Judy felt her legs bump something and stopped backing up. She was up against the couch. She stroked and petted the monster lump of Paul's cock, slowly sitting down as she did. That pulled his hand out of her pussy. She sat very straight so her breasts thrust out as proudly as possible. She pressed her thighs tightly together, to give him only a tantalizing hint of her sex, a dark, hairy, tight triangle.
She unfastened his belt, then unbuttoned his jeans. With exciting slowness, she ran the sturdy brass zipper down over the lump of his prick, and watched his jeans spread open. The mound of his cock expanded and thrust against his underpants. The fly of his shorts opened slightly from the pressure and revealed a sliver of flushed skin and one faint blue vein under it. Impulsively, as she pushed his jeans down around his legs, she leaned forward and nibbled at the shyly ex posed fragment of his prick. It felt hot and hard against her lips. She darted her tongue out and licked his flesh delicately.
Then she leaned back, away from him, and reached for the elastic of his strained jockey shorts. She heaved the waist of them out over his prick, which wasn't easy. As soon as she pulled outward on the elastic, his cock sensed freedom and leaped upward and outward, forcing her to pull the elastic out further.
The pink head of his phallus peeped out over the top of his underpants at her. The slit at the tip seemed to be grinning at her. As his under pants were pulled down along the underside of his erect organ, they scraped the nerve-loaded hump on the underside and a drop of fluid oozed into view at the slitted tip. Then, as Judy hauled his underpants still lower, his prick dipped the way a knight's lance did before a charge. It pointed its blunt head right at Judy's nose.
Judy kept her eyes on that beautiful pink knob. The clear drop swelled slowly and began to sag from its weight. Judy shoved Paul's underpants and pants into a tangle around his ankles, not caring if she stripped him clear naked. She had the important part of him uncovered at this point, the rest didn't matter. She took hold of his throbbing prick. She finger painted the viscous, slippery lubricant over the cap of his phallus, making it shine. With her thumbs, she smeared fluid down over the nerve-packed point just under the head. The delicate brushing action of her touch brought a new flood of blood to the already glutted tissues of Paul's prick and his organ grew still harder and hotter in her fingers. The lubricant she had smeared around began to dry from the heat, and to feel pasty. But a new wave of juice burst from the smug-looking slit and spread out over the shining pinkish head, again making his flesh slippery and wet.
Mike was leaning against the wall in the dining room, peering cautiously through the partially open door. He could see his sister's bare shoulders and head over the back of the sofa. The knowledge that she was nude, and what he could see--her fondling Paul's cock--was enough to make his heart pound and a knot form in his throat. The sight of her playing with Paul's prick, its head inches from her lips, made Mike's blood boil. Constantly, he had to remind himself that she had been forced to watch him with Cynthia, and that things were just the same right now. She had to do what she was doing with Paul, or the whole plot would be ruined.
He could, of course, leave. There really was no reason he had to stay for what he knew was coming. But, he had no intention of leaving. He was going to stay right to the bitter end. He had to stay. He had to see his sister be taken by Paul, jealous as he was. He knew, too, that it was going to knot his cock up with lust, and that he was going to be unsatisfied when it was all over. He knew he wasn't going to have a shot at his sister after she finished with her boyfriend.
Mike gritted his teeth. His fingers were gripping the door jamb so hard they were white. He knew he should leave, he wanted to leave, but he couldn't leave.
Judy knew she and Paul were being watched. A mirror showed the half-open door to the dining room. She could feel her brother's agony as he watched. She was filled with a dreadful, agonizing joy as the knowledge of the torture he was going through ripped through her like a dull knife. She was glad he was staying to watch.
Slowly and carefully, she guided Paul down on the couch, placing him with his back to the mirror. She pushed him down on his back. Mike hadn't yet discovered the view that the mirror gave, but she was certain he would. When he did, she wanted to give him the best possible view of what was being done to her.
As Paul lifted his feet up on the couch, Judy straddled his legs, her knees sinking into the soft sofa cushions. She risked a quick glance at the mirror. Her brother's tortured eyes met hers. He could see every inch of her naked body, as she straddled Paul. Her open legs exposed her sex to both Paul and Mike, but only Paul was going to get any physical pleasure from that oozing hole. She worked her way up his thighs to his crotch.
She saw Paul watching her closely, his eyes burning with lust at the sight of her swaying breasts. She held herself straight so they stood out as far as possible. She shook her torso gently to make her lush mounds quiver and jiggle excitingly. Her nipples were sharp with desire, twin peaks, both begging for attention.
Paul reached up and touched them gently, rubbing his fingers over the little pink buds delicately, feeling their rubbery texture and the way they pushed into the softer, more yielding flesh supporting them. He curved his fingers to the soft contours of both her breasts, marveling at their softness and their warmth. Judy's breasts had always fascinated him. They were so womanly and proud, large and firm at the same time. And they were so soft and hot and exciting to touch. The areolae were neat circles about the size of a quarter, supporting the pencil eraser-like points of her nipples. Those pink cylinders, with their dimpled ends, were just begging to be pinched and tugged and twisted. And when he did that, Judy's tummy always sucked in with excitement and her head tipped back slightly, and her eyes glazed with lust and her jaw sagged.
While the flames from Paul's torch blazed through Judy, she reached for his prick. It was as hard as iron, hot as a steel ingot fresh out of a furnace. It lay up against his belly. She held it by the base with the thumbs and forefingers of both hands. She tipped it up, squeezed it slightly, forming a tourniquet to restrict the flow of blood out of its already flooded cells.
She worked her way forward a few inches and felt the head of the phallus she was holding pull through the twining kinks of her pubic hair. It wedged her slit open, sliding through the slick, wet, ready folds of tissue. When it bumped over her clit her whole body convulsed with pleasure. Then she nestled it in the opening of her vagina. The knob felt like hot lava as it settled in the crater that led to her deep tunnel. Her head tipped back, her eyes slitted with lust, Judy looked in the mirror. Her brother's face was a study in frustrated searing desire and agonizing jealousy.
Mike had his hands braced on either side of the door, battling the urge to charge into the living room and tear his sister out of his friend's embrace, and ravish her himself. When she had first helped Paul down on the couch, then turned sideways to him, Mike had been puzzled. Then he had seen her glance at the mirror and had shifted his gaze. The sight of Judy straddling Paul, and the full frontal view of her nude body, had made Mike suck in his breath. Every time he saw his sister, she seemed to be more alluring, more beautiful, more sexually exciting than before. Her body was glorious, and, judging by the way she displayed it, she was very proud of it.
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