(ASS) Marie Chapter 10 part one of three parts
FRIAR DAVE
MARIE
By Friar Dave
(copyright, the author)
CHAPTER 10
(MARIE10.STY)
By the time he arrived, I was in a state. I'd dome everything I could
to prepare -- tanned like crazy, read up all I could about his damn
ol' Mets, even bought a sexy peignoir -- and laid in plans for It. I
was determined to seduce my stepbrother.
The night before he was arrive at Toledo Express Airport (which he
always referred to as "Toledo International Spaceport," just to rub it
in) I showered and stood bare-butt naked in from of the mirror on the
back of the door to the room I shared with Jeanne. I looked myself
over.
All of a sudden, in the past three weeks, I'd started developing again
-- wildly. My bust was up to a 29C, and my waist was still a little
bitty 19, and my hips were barely 26 inches. I was as tan as I could
be, and my hair, which hadn't been more than trimmed in six months,
reached straight and sleek halfway down my back. When I looked at
myself in the mirror, I knew I was damn sexy, and I knew that if I
couldn't get to him now, I never would.
I also knew I had to be Cool -- not too pushy, very much in control. I
had it all planned out, oh, yes, I did.
I went with Dad and Mom to the airport to meet him. He hugged me the
way he hugged everyone else, and I made damn sure that the sleeveless
top I wore was the only thing I wore on top, so he could feel my boobs
press into him. I sat next to him in the station wagon as Dad drove us
all back from the airport, and I made sure I was scrunched over so my
thigh (bare beneath the cutoff jeans) was against his. And I could not
remember a thing about staying cool. Because he was an absolute fox.
He was a little under six feet tall and had this light brown hair,
except for a -- can you believe it? -- red forelock and had these
really light hazel eyes and a cute face and what a damn built he had
on him! He'd picked up his suitcases from the conveyor belt as if
they'd been empty; when Jeanne and I tried to help we nearly got
ruptured. Even Dad couldn't lift one of them that easily!
All the way back from the airport we made small talk, and he was
always completely in control. When we passed Route 23 and I leaned
over (supposedly) to point to the new bowling alleys (and not
incidentally press my boobs into his arm), he just gave me a quick
glance and a funny little half-smile, and I wanted to cross my legs
'cause I was getting so wet down there.
By the time we'd reached the house, Mom had already told him I was
having some friends over for a slumber party (heh), and since Dad was
on midnight shifts, and she tired out early, he agreed to watch over
us kids (double-heh) that night.
All was in readiness.
I brushed my teeth twice and showered and then gargled and showered
again and generally made myself as clean as possible. Then I doused
myself with Windsong and paraded around the house after dinner in my
swimsuit bottoms and a tee-shirt and nothing else and told him I hoped
he didn't mind watching us, et cetera, and found every excuse I could
to lean against him.
At seven, my friends started arriving, and at eight he had finished
calling all the aunts, uncles and cousins he had to touch base with.
At nine, my brothers were sent to bed, and Jeanne, pleading weariness,
sacked it. Alexis was out on a date, and Mom was fading fast. At 10,
Dad was dressed and ready to leave for work (he always got to work
early; Dad was a Depression baby and believed in showing up very
early), and Mom was fighting to stay awake.
At 10:30, it was four of my friends and me and my phantom stepbrother,
who was sitting at the dining room table, reading a paperback and
scarfing down peanut butter sandwiches.
At eleven, I sprung my trap. I pulled a chair away from the table and
sat facing him.
"Yes?" he asked, looking up from his PB&Js and his book.
"Antisocial?"
He grinned and closed the book. "Meaning?"
"Come in and talk to us. Lisa's here, y'know."
"Lisa's still five years younger than me," he said, not inaccurately.
"And she'd probably prefer not to be reminded of the potato chips."
I laughed at that. He hadn't forgotten any more than I -- or Lisa --
had forgotten. "We'd like you tell us about what it's like being in
New York."
He put that stare of his on me. Held it for about a 10-count. Then
smiled oddly and shook his head. "Somehow, I don't imagine a bunch of
13-year-old kids really being that interested in life in Brooklyn."
"Oh, come in and talk to us." I squirmed in mock-coquettishness,
"There's a bunch of nubile young women waiting for the pleasure of
your company."
I thought he'd choke, holding back the laughter. Finally: "'Nubile'?"
He rose and stood beside my chair. He was wearing faded old jeans and
a Mets tee-shirt, and I was fully prepared to unzip and gulp him right
then and there. "Lead on," he said, fighting a grin.
I stood, letting myself get closer than I had to, and drew him by the
hand into the family room.
"Look what I found," I announced.
"This calls for a beer," said Dana Connally. And produced same from
her huge overnight bag. Debbie didn't have much in the way of a
figure, but what she had, she knew how to use. She was wearing a
flannel shorty nightgown, and it somehow was sexier on her than my
filmy little peignoir could ever be. I grabbed one of her beers and
gulped it. Dan merely watched as I let myself fall into the old
recliner. He was sitting on the old couch, no more than two feet away.
Lisa was next to him, and Dana was on the other side of Lisa from her.
The other two, Angela and Barb, were on the floor, far, far away and
dubious -- and fading fast.
The beer hit me fast and hard. I said things I shouldn't have said,
even mentioned the potato chips. Dan reached past Dana to put his arm
around Lisa and said he would have kept them to that very day if they
hadn't gone stale and soft with age. Lisa blushed and scurried away.
Debbie squirmed in closer to him and grabbed his hand and held it.
I was still in the armchair. I asked him if he had a girlfriend and
tried to steer things in that direction. Occasionally, I made some
snide remarks to Debbie -- about where she was putting her hand, about
how short her nightie was -- and generally got stupid. My plan was
dissolving.
Somehow, the subject turned to comparing Ohio girls with New York
girls. He said New York girls were more sophisticated in some ways,
but Ohio girls were a little more direct -- and he liked that.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, in New York, girls play games, act like they don't want the
same things the guys want -- like what they've got is some kind of
prize, y'know? Here, the girls don't mind letting it be known what
they like and what they don't want. I like the honesty."
"You mean girls here are easier."
"Not 'bad' easier, but...less hung up. Yeah, easier, if honest means
easy." He paused and grinned. "And healthier."
"Waddya mean?"
"Girls out here seem to grow up physically a lot sooner and more
emphatically."
He winked at me.
"You mean, like bigger tits sooner?" Dana asked.
"You betcha."
"Like Marie's?" she asked.
"Yeah. Too bad she's just a kid."
I took offense at that and opened the robe of my peignoir. I wasn't
wearing a bra beneath the chemise, and it was all lacy and a little
too tight on my tits. "Who's a kid?" I demanded.
"Marie, you're all growed out real good," he said. "But you're my
sister, and you're still too young."
Blame it on the beer. I ran my hands up and cupped my tits. "'If
they're big enough, they're old enough.' Isn't that what they say? And
aren't these big enough?"
He pulled his gaze from my breasts to my eyes. "Don't fuck with my
head," he said quietly. "You know I like you, you know I think you're
sexy, and you know you're my sister."
"And you know were not related by blood, so don't give me that...or
are you just mouthing off about me being attractive?"
"Sure, and the first time I touch you, you'll go screaming."
"No I won't. Go on -- do it."
And there, in that dimly lit room, he leaned forward and put his hand
on my bare shoulder. He slid it down and just barely pressed my
breasts through the bodice of the chemise. I damn near came right then
and there. When his palm was over my right nipple, I said, "I'm not
screaming."
His fingers closed on my nipple through the satin, and he pulled it a
bit. And said: "Are you trying to prove something to me, to you -- or
to your friends?"
For a few minutes, it had just been him and me, but now I remembered
the others sitting around, and I thought of the stories they would
tell...
He took his hand away. "I think it's time to call it a night. Enjoy
your party, girls." He got up and went into the living room, where his
pullout was.
There were more beers, and then we all sort of crashed, there on the
floor, on the couch and on cushions, and Angie just sprawled on some
blankets and slept. The beer took its toll on me, and I was out pretty
fast.
It took another toll, too. Around dawn I got up to pee, and that was
when I heard the noises in the living room. I crept silently to the
corner, at the place where the stairs went up, and that was when I saw
Dana betray me.
Dan was sitting on the living room couch, perched on the edge of the
cushion, and Dana was straddling him. They were kissing hot and wet
and with a lot of tongue. I watched him slide his hands up under her
nightgown and then he was lifting it. She didn't have much in the way
of tits, but what she had got plenty of attention. Dan licked and
kissed and sucked those hard little mounds while she, all long and
lean and lanky and sinuous, held his face against them.
He moved one hand down to rub around her cunt. She didn't have much
hair down there, but she had what he was looking for -- and vice
versa. I could hear his finger squish into her, and her breathing got
faster.
I also heard his soft sigh when he pulled his dick out through the
opening in his briefs and settled her onto it. Dana was taller than me
by a good seven or eight inches, but her hips and butt were almost as
small as mine, and she had to work her way down onto him. I only got a
glimpse, but his cock was about average length and a little thicker
than most and hard as a bar of iron. It was a tight fit, and all the
time she was settling onto it, he kept licking and sucking her
nipples.
I could have killed her. I was the one who wanted him! Besides -- he
was MY brother!
He put his hands on her skinny hips and guided her as she worked up
and down, back and forth. She was long-legged, Dana was, and had her
feet on the floor on either side of his legs. She did the work, but I
could hear both of them breathing harder, and I could hear her cunt
suck and squish on him as she moved up and down.
---
MHBBS (212-683-1448). For email replies, remove the "*" before MHBBS.COM.