I hadn’t seen or even phoned Cassie for ages. Cramming for the grades I needed to get my first choice of course at university took dedication, graft and time. I tucked myself in my room, living on cheese and sardine sandwiches, quarter pounders with a heap of fried onions and gallons of hot sweet tea, supplied by mom at regular intervals. I growled if anyone came near, even my sweet big sister – a beautiful blonde with hair down past her shoulders and the best cleavage in town.
Then came summer, the long wait for my grades, A*, A*, A, B. Chewed up with my need to pursue my chosen vocation, the rest of that summer was spent in preparation to begin my new studies at Lythton University. Books were my friends and the town library provided extra study material online. I’d left it until early September before I was in any mood to take a break. Then, of course, I needed cash … cash which other guys had earned from summer jobs; cash which I didn’t have.
The beginning of September was cool, which dulled my interest to travel anywhere. Out of the blue Cassie rang me, more to catch up on stuff and wish me well in my studies. As I said at the top, I hadn’t seen Cassie for ages. There were many times we’d spent hours together as kids. My aunt used to regularly invite me over for a week or three during the school summer break. This was good for Abi, now 21 and my big sister by 2½ years, for it meant a break from the endless teasing and pranks I used to play. It was good for mom for she not only had to be peacemaker but feed me too. It was good for me, because Cassie was my age not an older sister and, above all, a best friend. I really enjoyed the countryside and just being with Cassie.
That was several years ago and sure we stayed best friends as cousins should do, but as we grew older the fortnights became weeks, became weekends and finally became the odd visit now and then when mom went to see her sister-in-law, my aunt. Of course I had school then 6th form college. I had other friends, the occasional girlfriend, rugby, swimming and numerous hobbies which mostly lasted for, on average, 3 to 4 weeks – which just about summed up my girlfriends too. Mom called them fads and fancies, I just dabbled and poked. I tried to learn guitar, to play chess, skateboard, ice skate and many other things. The swimming and rugby stuck. The other interests, like my girlfriends, came and went.
Mom took the call and shouted to me to take the call on the upstairs extension.
“Hi, Tony, it’s Cassie.”
It took me a moment to recognise Cassie’s voice.
“Oh hi, Cassie, how’s it going? We haven’t spoken for ages.”
“Great. How about you?”
“To be honest, I’m in need of a break. I’ve been cramming far too long and my head’s all screwed up. I need a break but I’ve no cash.”
“You know, Tony, I was thinking the same. I’m bored, I broke up with the jerk I used to call my boyfriend and I’ve not much cash either. I thought I’d ring you, catch up with what’s going on.”
“So how do we fix that? Any ideas then Cassie?”
“Well you could come over for a few days, like you used to do. I’m sure mom and dad could put you up in the spare bedroom.”
Going away on holiday with my own mom and dad had kinda stopped completely. Abi had been in that mind too, a couple of weeks without mom and dad complaining about every damn thing was fantastic. At first it was fantastic. Then when favourite clothes got dirty, well they’d last another day or two. Pans and dishes stacked up, meals were burger and chips, pizzas, cheese on toast … you get the gist. I guess that’s when Abi and I stopped the teasing, petty arguments, blaming each other over trivial things. We learned to work together.
Once I’d stopped pranking Abi I started to actually enjoy having her around. Sure, the dishes stacked up, sure we still ran out of favourite clothes. But Abi could cook, knew how the washing machine worked, was someone who I could talk to and, most of all, Abi enjoyed those low cut sweaters and opened shirt buttons when my mates came around, even serving us cold drinks while we played video games, bending to carefully place the glasses on the low coffee table. Abi became the tease and entertainer.
As the time we were left to survive came to an end, Abi was the one who insisted everything was clean and tidy. Sometimes we finished literally minutes before our parents returned.
I’d already learned during summer stays with Cassie just how much we were growing up, we were changing, that girls tasted good once you learned how to kiss properly. And nobody really minded if you went skinny dipping in the lake occasionally.
It had started as just a dare. The small lake was ideal for a swim and to cool off during the few really hot days of the British summer. It was too tempting to resist when no-one was around and Cassie told me she had been there a number of times on her own. Who would know she was as naked as in the bath tub when there was no one to see? I guess I was nervous at first, even embarrassed, but I soon came to enjoy the freedom of swimming without restricting swim shorts.
I smiled to myself as our phone conversation continued.
“I’d like that Cassie. Perhaps we could do some walks, even camp out in a tent in one of your dad’s fields.” I suddenly remembered one time we’d set the tent up in a field recently vacated by some of his cows. There were cow pats everywhere. I just got used to the smell, it was part and parcel of country life.
“Tell you what, Tony, I’ll speak with mom later and ring you back.” Then we talked for ages, memories flooded back. Eventually Cassie hung up. I just couldn’t wait for her phoning back.
When I stopped to think about it, it had been quite some while since Cassie and I had spent some time together alone, I guess as much as 3 years since we’d had some quality time together. She, like me, studied hard at school. She, like me, valued a good friend more than a casual relationship with the opposite sex. About an hour later my mobile rang.
“Mom says fine,” said Cassie, “When do you want to come over?”
“As soon as you like.”
“Tomorrow OK? “
“Sure, I’ll tell mom.”
Cassie rang back later to say all was well … my aunt said I could stay as long as I wanted, a few days in fresh country air would be good for me. I packed all I would need and the following day I was on the bus to my uncle’s farm.
“I told you to give Tony a ring,” aunt Sarah had told Cassie. “You’ve been wandering like a lost soul for the last few weeks. At least you’ve got someone who likes being on the farm and going for walks. And if you get bored you can both help dad on the farm.”
Aunt Sarah was waiting near the bus stop on the main route at the very edge of their nearest town, ready to drive me the three miles into the countryside and 100 yards up the rutted farm track. Cassie of course was with her which gave a short time for us two to chat. Lunch was a salad with home cooked ham followed by home made cake. Like many farmers wives, aunt Sarah was an excellent cook.
Although September had started cool, the temperature was starting to gradually rise. By the time lunch was over and I’d chatted a while with aunt Sarah, Cassie and I decided to take a walk out.
“I’m glad you’ve come,” said Cassie, “I haven’t gone for a walk for ages. My last boyfriend didn’t really like being out here and I much prefer having someone to walk with.”
Cassie seemed to instinctively know what paths to take. I remember when I was much younger aunt Sarah went with us, just in case I got parted from Cassie and got lost. After a couple of years the escorting stopped. I’d a pretty good idea of a few landmarks to check if we separated, and I knew most of the wider paths back to the farm house.
“Let’s walk through the woodland,” suggested Cassie.
“Fine by me,” I answered. We’d been through before, several times. It wasn’t on uncle’s land, but there was a little-used public right of way through much of it. In any case Cassie knew most of the local people.
Through lunch and as we walked, I couldn’t help but notice how Cassie had changed. At 15 Cassie was wearing dental braces, was a little overweight (aunt Sarah, I told you, was a good cook), and had a bit of problem with teenage acne. Now 3 years later she was a young woman. Some fat had moved from belly to butt, leaving her slimmer but not skinny and with an amply curved rump. The dental ironwork had worked perfectly. Shiny white teeth, arranged perfectly, gave her a smile that many women would envy. Her breasts had filled a little and matured to those of a young woman, the thin fabric of her tee-shirt clinging excellently to those delightfully firm orbs. They were not large though – some might even call them small, nowhere near Abi’s, but I was never going to complain. Cassie was damn near perfect.
“We turn here,” she said, pointing to a narrower track. The trees were denser now and the smells of wild garlic and patches of stinging nettles filled our nostrils.
“Sshhh!” Cassie put a finger to her mouth. “If we’re quiet we may see a rabbit, or a shy bird. Listen out.”
“OK,” I whispered back. Cassie lagged a little, keeping her eyes peeled.
“Look,” she whispered again, putting her hands to my waist to stop me. She stood close, behind me, so close her breasts were pressing against my back.
Turning my head gently, she pointed. “There,” her lips to my ear, her voice as low as she could possibly manage, “A red squirrel.”
I knew how rare they were in England, the more aggressive grey squirrels competing for and stealing food from their red cousins.
“Wow” was all I could say.
Cassie still held my waist, as if she were afraid I would move and scare the shy creature. Her breasts, amazingly firm, now pressed tightly against me. Her breath, from her open mouth, blew gently against my neck. The light fragrance of, what, her perfume? Her hair? Her body spray? I didn’t know. Whatever it was, it was pleasing to my nose against the pungent smell of wild garlic.
I suddenly realised my body was reacting. Stupid really, as I’d known Cassie since I was tiny. There had never been any hint of arousal when we were younger, even when swimming in the lake; curiosity, yes, but never anything sexual. We stood, silent, for several minutes before the shy animal quickly climbed a tree and out of our sight.
I had been surprised at my body’s unintentional reaction. Surprised but pleased.
I started to walk on a little faster but Cassie slowed me.
“What’s the rush?” she said. “We have all afternoon.”
She took my hand to encourage me to walk at her pace. Her hand was warm and soft. I felt an involuntary shiver pass through me. My arousal continued, my embarrassing but noticeable bulge hard to miss.
I’d had learned, gradually at first then suddenly faster than ever, that this natural male biological mystery had a mind of its own. When I peed it was little more than an average sized water pipe. In the showers at school and college I never had any reason to be ashamed of its size. No more, no less than adequate, neither the smallest nor by any means the longest of my peers. It was average.
But at certain times, encouraged by unsought mental stimulation, it was like Topsy; it just grew and grew, swelling and increasing in girth, longer and thicker. OK, occasionally I admit I encouraged it to do that, in bed at night, recalling memories of a particular girl, or of a friend’s mom who happened to have forgotten she’d left her bikini top off before snoozing, sat on the recliner on the patio, taking in some rare English summer sun. It was amusing to see the youthful strength of my erection able to tent the bedsheets and the sheer blissful relaxation when my own finger manipulations coaxed it into releasing its load.
Sometimes, and this was the oddest of all, it awoke me, mid-dream, firing that sacred, sticky, gooey fluid into my boxers at some absurd hour during the night. With it came a delightful mix of euphoria and guilt. Mom never ever made any comment though when my stained boxers went into the laundry. She most likely assumed I was growing up and everything functioned as it should.
It wasn’t until the path widened again that Cassie was able to walk by my side easily. I saw her glance down. She said nothing. Instead she interlocked our fingers in the way young lovers do. We slowed even more, watching carefully for any signs of forest life. It was so silent, so peaceful, only the noise of the occasional snapping of a dried twig to break the silence. I drew in breaths of the scented but clean woodland air. I felt relaxed but alive. My senses seemed hyper alert, savouring the woodland blend of smells, hearing every sound made by nearby creatures, enjoying the intimate touch of our intertwined fingers.
“Branch right, here.” said Cassie, suddenly, pointing to another narrow path. “Let’s see what we can find.”
The narrow path made it awkward to walk hand in hand, but as Cassie slipped her arm around my waist we found we could.
“Can’t you take a hint?” she asked, after we’d walked a dozen steps further.
Her hand moved to my butt. I did likewise. “Is that better?”
Cassie nodded. “You guys are so slow at times. And you, Tony, are even slower. Don’t tell me you’re still so shy.”
I didn’t answer.
She glanced again at my bulge, which had been reducing in size but became full again as soon as my hand rested on her delightfully curved rump. Cassie was wearing a short, loose fitting skirt and the thinness of the fabric meant I could easily feel the smoothness of her butt underneath. This only served to fuel my arousal. I may well have been shy but that didn’t mean the autoboost function in my brain was defective. Smooth butt flesh, as many guys have witnessed, automatically adds length and girth to the male reproductive equipment. In an 18 year old virile male, shy or not, this reflex is nigh impossible to override.
We walked on slowly, Cassie occasionally stopping to point out some animal or bird. It had been barely an hour since we’d left the house. I was content to let time pass slower and slower; I hadn’t been this relaxed for a long time. Cassie pulled me over to the trunk of an older, larger tree, turned me round and gently pushed me back against the tree.
Leaning against me Cassie said, “I taught you how to kiss, let’s see how well you remember.”
With that she kissed me lightly with closed lips, then more firmly so I was well aware of their touch, their softness, their moistness, with just a hint of either lipstick or sun protection-come-moistener, perhaps aloe vera. Little by little her jaw relaxed, allowing her mouth to open and lips gently part. As she did so her crotch rubbed against mine. Without allowing her to make any hint or suggestion, I again put my hands on her butt. This simple mound of flesh, fat and ‘gluteus maximus’ felt good to touch. I pulled her to me, increasing the pressure where our bodies met. Her pussy was now tight against my swelling. I dared myself to slowly raise her skirt. My hands touched bare flesh briefly before Cassie reached around, moved my hands away and pulled her skirt back down.
“No, Tony. Don’t.”
Then, amazingly it was as before. I had been chastised. The matter had ended.
Almost automatically, without even thinking, our mouths opened wider. We were both getting more and more aroused when Cassie pulled back a little.
“Wait,” she said, almost apologetically, “Not just yet.”
I was puzzled. Cassie was running hot then cold. Did she feel guilty? Unsure? Confused?
Finally she broke the silence. “That was some kiss”, she said, smiling. “You’ve been practising.”
“Ssshh!” I put my finger to my lips, and quickly returned my hands to where they had been. Cassie didn’t need to say any more. They say actions speak louder than words. I began to move my hips, pulling her butt even tighter to me as we kissed deeply again.
Suddenly Cassie broke the kiss. “No, Tony. Not so fast.”
I eased off pushing my cock against her pussy and we were soon totally engrossed in a deep, loving kiss. I was, what, 14 when Cassie first kissed me fully, like now, an open mouthed kiss which I will never forget. At that time I’d been very nervous and far from relaxed. That’s all it ever was, a nervous but welcome kiss, my nervousness preventing an erection.
I’d kissed many girls since then. I was aware now that my penis had swollen greatly, engorged with blood as nature had specified and through the thin fabric of my summer pants it would be very visible. Except that, at the moment, it wasn’t visible, near to but not pressing against the equivalent part of Cassie’s body. Then suddenly I could feel her hips oh so gently pressing against me again, moving, rotating, as if she was trying to override her own objections and so bring herself the same arousal. Even within the kiss there was a little murmur of approval. Then after a while she pulled away again.
I was frustrated, I didn’t know what teasing game Cassie was playing.
“Come on, I think that’s enough for one day. Let’s walk some more,” said Cassie, pulling at my hand.
At first I was annoyed, but Cassie was my friend and my cousin, not my girlfriend or lover. What I’d felt, and I’m sure she felt too, was good. It was a pity that it ended.
Cassie glanced down, much to my embarrassment. The outline of my fully hardened penis was plain to see.
She smiled. “Wow.”
As we walked I began to feel quite hot. Cassie too was sweating, even though we were walking at a slow pace. We were now hand in hand again, fingers interlocked. I could see a brightness appear, the edge of the forest. We were soon in a field again but with no sign of a pathway. The grass had grown back from the hay cut in June, possibly once more and it was 3 or 4 inches high.
“This is one of dad’s fields,” said Cassie. “Sometimes he has cows in here. Do you remember when we camped and the cow pats?”
I laughed. “Certainly do.”
The afternoon was warming more. Cassie wiped sweat from her brow. “Fancy a swim?” she asked, a cheeky grin on her face.
“But we’ve no swimwear.” My reply sounded blunt.
“That never stopped us before. Remember?”
I turned to face Cassie. “That was several years ago.”
For the first time, I was aware of Cassie’s nipples poking out from under her tee-shirt. I wondered if it was from the kiss, the anticipation of the swim or simply walking along, totally relaxed hand in hand with a very good friend; her cousin. Cassie caught me off guard.
“A boy’s eyes can’t lie,” she told me. It was very obvious where I was looking.
“Well?” she waited for my answer.
“Why not?” I said at last. “Sounds good.”
“Race you,” Cassie challenged. It was a sound I’d heard before, many times.
I thought I was fit, and even if I wasn’t I should have won. I didn’t. Cassie was far more used to the fields although I’d swear I’d win if we were on a running track. Cassie, without any hint of embarrassment had started peeling off her tee-shirt. It wasn’t until she’d removed a pale green thong and we were totally naked that she challenged me.
“Well, cousin. You were mentally undressing me before. Here, take a look.”
“That’s not fair and you know it,” I retorted. “What about my bulge? You snuck more than a glance.”
“So, we’re even. Last one to the far bank has to pose.”
She was off, diving in without regard to the temperature of the water. I quickly followed, my regular swimming paying dividends. I hoisted myself out of the water just as Cassie took the last stroke. Just seeing her there, water dripping, hair soaking wet caused me to get a gentle swell.
“OK, OK. Don’t pee yourself,” her breathing heavy from the exertion of swimming.
She stood, arms akimbo, a cheesy grin rather than a smile on her face. Apart from passing her hair through a closed fist to remove most of the lake water, her hair still dripped. Slimmer than I remembered her, though by no means too slim, her breasts, waist and hips seemed to blend well together.
Her face, beads of water dripping from the tip of her cute nose, was round, framed at the side by shoulder length deep auburn hair. There was an upturn at the sides of her lips, giving her a natural smile, but right now she had that ‘I don’t want my photo taken’ kind of cheesy grin, no doubt annoyed at being beaten in the short swim across the lake.
My eyes moved down. Her breasts weren’t large, but perfectly adequate. Not symmetrical, but not out of shape either. Neither were they small, but I suppose it all depended on the opinion of the viewer. Her nipples still stood proud – again, enough to be noticed but in perfect proportion to her breasts; dusky pink, with pale brown areola.
That most interesting triangle, bounded by hip bones above and the meeting of her legs below, had more beads of lake water still clinging. Pussy lips were obscured a little by, as far as I could tell, a laziness in trimming. At some time fairly recently, Cassie had shaved or waxed but not kept her pubes trimmed and there was enough hair there to just slightly hide the groove. Her legs, in relation to the rest of her body, should have been slim. Her love of walking, cycling and swimming however made her leg and thigh muscles strong and this overrode any natural slimness. Toenails, like her fingernails, were decorated with a medium pink nail polish. This, to my mind, was a fitting touch to enhance a perfect, and well used, pair of feet.
“Well, have you seen enough?” she teased, watching my eyes devour her, arms now crossed, “Or would you like a close-up?” She watched my eyes again take in her tip to toe beauty, pausing in their return gaze at the slightly obscured slit which many men, and some women, find hypnotic. I was hard again, rock hard.
“No, it’s fine.”
“That’s the correct answer.” Cassie teased again, “Because you’re not getting one.”
I was embarrassed again by the state of my love rod. Cassie just stood, her gaze revealing all. Mental photo-shoot over we swam again, making the most of the freedom of having no swimwear. Ducking, diving, swimming, lazily sculling, playing tag, taking in a quick kiss or two, and a hug when the tagger caught the pursued. There is something strangely extra sexual when both bodies are almost completely submerged in water. Then the tagged one furiously swam away to avoid being tagged back.
We came out of the water, exhausted and exhilarated to enjoy the gentle warm breeze caressing our skin, hugging and kissing again before finally returning to where our clothes were heaped. We lay naked on the grass, just talking, catching up on life, relaxing, forgetting all thoughts of studies and exams.
“Cassie,” I said after much consideration, “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I couldn’t help but be amazed how much you’ve changed.”
“In what way?”
“In every way. Your boobs, your hair, face, lips, waist, legs and … “
“And my pubes, my butt and anything in between.”
“My boobs, as you call them,” she sat up, cupped them, raising both as if in an uplifting bra, “Aren’t big enough.” Silence, as if she was considering her next words. “Do you think they are?”
She waited for my approval. It wasn’t the first time I’d heard a girl say that.
“I think they’re just right. You’re simply gorgeous.”
‘Hell,’ I thought, amazed at what for me was a very forward remark.
“And you too,” she continued. “When we kissed. Your penis, your dick … whatever name you give it. You know, you’re quite well blessed.”
“Thank you,” was all I could muster.
I’d swear a blush appeared on her face, my observations finally hitting home. “You’ve never said that before.”
“I really mean it Cassie.”
She paused, reaching forward, touching my upper arms. “And you’re so strong too.”
Laid down again, she leaned over and kissed me, letting her lips linger for a while, moving away, realising the real intimacy our nakedness presented, then kissing me again. Leaning over more she turned, her leg crossing over and resting on mine. Immediately I again felt a swelling; that comforting, pleasing swelling.
She giggled. “You need to get that thing to behave, but everything seems to work OK.”
And there it ended. I wasn’t going to quench my frustration by forcing myself on my cousin. Things would surely take their course. Time would tell.
We lay on the coarse grass for a while longer, the sun drying then warming our bodies. I must have dozed, the fresh country air, the walk, the swim and the warmth of the late summer sun compelling my body to relax and sleep.
Some time later, half asleep, I could feel just the slightest tickle on my leg, the way an insect would do. But no, the tickle was moving randomly. One moment it was at the bottom of one leg, then the other. A few moments later the fingers, for even with my eyes closed I knew it was Cassie’s fingers, moved to my sides – first the right then the left. Upwards to my man nipples, down again, then my legs, my thighs. As the fogginess of sleep cleared my brain I became more and more aware of the strength of my erection. It was steely, solid, harder than I could ever remember.
“Cassie,” I began.
“Sshh! Stay still. Don’t talk. I was a bitch before, I shouldn’t have teased. I’ve been thinking about what you said.”
I didn’t answer. I lay, eyes closed, giving myself up to her will, her entertainment.
Cassie’s fingers moved again, this time along the most sensitive part of my inner thighs, brushing lightly under my balls and then, as slow as slow could be, along the length of my shaft. Thumb and finger hardly touched the skin but I felt every tiny fraction of each inch. Half way, three-quarters of the way upwards and then she stopped.
She pinched, pulled and released my nipples, then kissed and licked them both. Her fingers returned to ticking my legs, sides, thighs, groin in rapid random movements. Then my balls, shaft, stopping short of touching the sensitive glans. I could feel pre-cum working its way out of my pee hole until suddenly Cassie stopped.
The tension, the pleasurable tension had built within me. Every part, every square inch of my skin felt so alive, so buzzing. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, her fingers touched their ultimate target. Oh my they touched! Cassie was talented in the best possible way. Her fingers and thumb never stopped moving, pre-cum lubricated, gliding over the most sensitive part of my manhood.
Gradually her fingers sped up. She was wanking me and it wasn’t long before I felt I would explode. Just then she switched from fingers to mouth, her moist warm lips closing around my very tip, kissing rather than licking, gently moving her lips on my exposed glans in such a way as to torment me.
The minutes ticked by. Every time I thought I would shoot she stopped, paused a while, then continued the torment. Finally, her mouth opened to swallow as much as she could of me, even gagging a couple of times. This time she didn’t stop. I shot what seemed like gallons of cum into her mouth. I’d had some girls BJ me but this girl, my precious sexy cousin, had given me the best ever.
Cassie spat out most of my cum, sucking some more to clean up any residue. She spat again. I felt so chilled, so relaxed like I’d never felt for months, even years. I must have dozed again for Cassie’s voice woke me.
“Tony,” she said, gently.
“Hmmm?” I answered.
“You aren’t going to neglect me, are you?”
“Hmmm” was my sole reply before I dozed again.
“Tony,” more urgently this time.
“Later.” I was totally chilled out and felt like a cat does when he gets the whole carton of cream.
“TONY! Fuckin’ wake up NOW.”
“OK, OK, don’t piss yourself Cassie.”
“A girl has needs too.”
Reluctantly I rolled over. If Cassie had needs then it was my bounden duty to satisfy them, but to follow her sterling performance would be nigh impossible.
OK, I’ll admit it. There had been one or two occasions recently that I’d made a feeble attempt at frigging a girl, but to be honest it had never got beyond stinky pinkies. Much of the time my interest in rugby was enough to win a blow job, especially if I’d manage to kiss a girl to her expectations. Sure, I’d also won the right to feel a girl’s tits, especially on the odd occasion when I’d dodged enough of the opposition to score the winning try.
Sometimes girls would hang around after the match. Sometimes I’d even get a party invite. If some girls got to see enough muscle, whether it be on the rugby field or in the swimming pool, you got an automatic invitation. My biggest downfall was my shyness, even with an eager mouth and tongue urging me on. Sometimes nature found its own solution. Once the outline of my love muscle was rapidly increasing in size, well, girls became curious and who was I to attempt to deny their curiosity?
Cassie already had my problem worked out in her head.
“Tony, you haven’t … you haven’t … been down there with any girls, have you?”
I could feel my face flushing. I didn’t reply.
“Oh, my sweet Tony. You don’t know what to do, do you?”
I felt ashamed. 18 years old, ready to face university life, and I was still a virgin. Not only had I never fucked a girl but I’d just selfishly taken advantage of what they’d freely given me. I knew, and the girls who’d become temporary girlfriends knew, that I liked the scent ‘down there’ and had given in to my desires, sometimes even offering me panties to borrow.
Abigail – Abi to all who who knew her – my big sister wasn’t (I’m pretty sure) aware of this because I was always very careful to replace her panties exactly where I’d found them. OK, OK, I’ll admit it was pervy, but a nose full of pheromone enhanced pussy fragrance could cure any temporary stress or tiredness. Pussy odour, even with mild pissy fragrances, could make the weak be strong, and the strong become weak at the knees.
“Tony. I’m sorry.” There was a look of genuine worry on her face. “I honestly didn’t mean to upset you. I just didn’t think.”
She paused, lost in her own thoughts for a few moments.
“I’m sorry too,” I said. “It’s been really good up to now.”
“Perhaps,” Cassie started, still half-lost in thought, “Perhaps …”
She motioned for me to move around, her legs opening to reveal that most intimate part of her.
“Fuck, I’m so damned horny. Watch me.”
Get real! She had my utmost attention without having to ask. She shut her eyes and slowly, almost awkwardly, began to finger herself.
“Consider this a big favour, Tony. I wouldn’t ever do this in front of any other guy.”
I watched, helplessly entranced as her fingers moved carefully in and out of her slit, gliding further down, taking up the slick lubrication which was already there. As if to make clear to me the target of her attention, she gently parted the lips which hid her clit.
“Just here,” she added. “Watch.”
Slowly, stealthily, her face contorting in an odd fashion, she gave her already engorged clit the friction it needed.
“My nipples, Tony. Pull them, tweak them. Roll them in your fingers.”
Although unwilling to divert my gaze from her sex, I did as she asked. Her breathing became deeper, faster. After a few minutes of this and I could easily sense the pleasurable tension building within her.
“Now we swap.”
Giving me no time for hesitancy Cassie took my right hand and directed the middle fingers to her love bud. It felt hard and almost like a mini cock.
“Now stay there.”
She let go of my hand. It was easy, as a swollen clit is hard to miss. She grabbed her nipples hard, pulling and squeezing. Her breathing deepened more. Her face screwed up in intense concentration. Her tongue flicked out, wetting her lips.
“No. Concentrate. You’ve moved.” She released a nipple to guide my fingers and position them exactly where felt best. “Stay there.”
This time I took more care. At her request I slowed the speed and pressure of my two fingers. Her breaths became sharp and snatched as my fingers became wet with her lubrication. A low pitched sound of pleasure escaped her open mouth. Dirty, vulgar words of encouragement came out.
“Now lick me.”
“For fuck’s sake Tony, put your tongue where your fingers are.”
It was awkward with Cassie laid flat on the grass.
With some awkwardness she arched herself up then caught her legs around my neck. Her pussy, and in particular her clit, was now perfectly placed. Her nectar tasted good. Slowly at first I licked and nibbled at her ever growing clit. Her sighs of delight and soft murmurs of pleasure assured me that I was getting something right. Then as I got more confident and my tongue got faster her body began to move. Legs now locked in place meant I had no escape and she had to apologise when they gripped me too hard. Her increasing moans of pleasure built louder and louder until suddenly her body convulsed in wild and uncontrolled orgasm.
My tongue ached. My neck ached from the involuntary squeezes of her legs.
Releasing me from the stranglehold she said simply, “Kiss me.”
We kissed, laid on the grass, aside our clothes near the water’s edge. Nothing in the world mattered to either of us. All the weeks of stress had been released.
Of course, I now had a full and aching erection again. Nature’s most obvious solution would have been to fuck Cassie until we were both exhausted, but it was something I’d never done; never with Cassie and never with anyone else.
Cassie, pleased that she’d taught me one life skill, something really useful, took me in her mouth again. That was to become the first and only time I’ve been sucked off twice in so short a time.
Dressed again, walking slowly back through the forest track, we returned to the farm. Nothing much was said but we stopped 3, maybe 4 times to kiss and cuddle. This time there were no prick teasing games. Our hands roved with no restrictions whatsoever.
From that day on, the relationship between Cassie and I had changed completely.
I felt sure that this holiday was going to be the best I’d ever had.