Chapter 11
As they walked down to the cove at the beach, Christopher knew that his hard cock had deposited a wet blot of semen on the front flap of his jockey shorts. His balls felt heavy in their sac.
Lisa grabbed on to his arm and her fingertips were warm in the night air, which was cool at the beach, cool after a sweltering Los Angeles day. She stopped for a moment, then walked on ahead of him. Then they were on the beach and she held on to him while she removed her shoes. He kicked off his blue deck shoes easily and carried them in his hand to the small cove they had discovered weeks before. It was empty, though it never ceased to amaze Christopher how others had not found it, a secure and quite beautiful nest in which to make love-or something close to it.
As always, Christopher wondered how close to love making he would come tonight. He couldn't help but wish ruefully that Lisa would at least announce at the beginning of each date just how far she intended to go just to diminish the suspense which was getting to be the worst part of all. He had more than enough sex-real sex-with his sister; he was becoming almost satisfied with the teasing "almosts" that Lisa offered him. Still, each night he could hardly suppress the hope that finally she would succumb and let him put it inside of her.
He held her by the small of her narrow back as he assed her to the sand. He was unsure of his balance, but as soon as he'd settled her he released his grip and pushed his lips against hers. It seemed to him at moments like this that no one could kiss like Lisa Ferris, even his sister.
The edges of her lower teeth scraped the lip she had just moistened and Christopher was breathing hard. He held her tight, hearing the beat of her heart through her sweater pumping under her smallish breasts. He rested his hand gently over the boob as his tongue filled her mouth. She seemed to coo from deep down in her throat and her body was especially relaxed tonight-Chris had come to notice such things.
Even under the thin sweater he could feel the tit stiffen inside the cone of the bra. He put his thumb under the spot where the areola would be and Lisa moaned softly. She threw her head back on the sand and he kissed her neck as he slipped his hand, cold now with excitement, under the garment-it, besides the brassiere, was all she'd chosen to wear tonight.
When he could feel the nipple's stiffness, he pushed at it through the lace with his thumb. He pulled his hand back and then rolled the sweater just past the cap, a dark circle against the white. He breathed on the spot and thought he felt the goose bump-like prickles erect against his lips, but soon he licked the tit through the undergarment. Though protected by the bra cup, Lisa groaned when he bit lovingly at her, but she was softened when he opened his mouth wider and tried to suck all of the jug in. His fingers were probing her back innocently enough, but Chris wondered if she knew he was merely trying to get her off guard so that he could unsnap the buttons that would release the holsters.
That sound was almost an intense pleasure in itself to him when it came. She arched her spine and shivered. "You're cold," she whispered, almost inaudible beneath the louder sounds of the tide. "Your hands are cold," she repeated, and it was almost an accusation. He didn't stop, however, molesting her breasts, warming his palms instead against the red-hot coals at their center. The tits almost stung him as the hands massaged the breasts in circular patterns. He kissed her again, and this time her tongue moved quickly around his. He could always tell how anxious she was by the way she kissed, and tonight he was sure that she was anxious.
He had wasted enough time. He wanted to dip his fingers into her pussy, to roll the fingertips over the labia. He knew that his whole body would be stiff, waiting for the moment when her "No... no... no!" would turn from a disguised, breathy urging to an actual command that he would inevitably have to obey.
The jeans zipped down the side and his hand could slip in easily over her flat stomach. He pressed down with his wrist just above her pubic triangle. She rubbed her bare foot soles into the cool sand and her face was peaceful. For the moment she would let him continue.
The panties were just a little loose on her and the fabric swayed under his hand as he rubbed her belly as one would rub a magic lantern. He could not resist the urge to feel under the elastic waistband for the twat hair which he curled on the ends of his forefinger and index. He hesitated a moment before dropping down to the hole itself. He nudged the brassiere down from one breast with his teeth. He licked the flesh around the tit until he finally moistened the red peak into even greater stiffness. This time, when he rolled his teeth over her, he was gentle and did not hurt her.
The whimper that escaped her throat when he touched her clit with the back of his first finger was one of pleasure and not of discomfort. He bent the finger at the knuckle and then floated it gracefully up and down on the pimple until it had swelled to erection. His hand moved down between her legs and he seemed to be pulling the labia lips toward each other, covering the hole rather than opening it.
The first and second fingers separated and tickled the insides of her thighs just where the beaver ended, but they returned, the forefinger to continue to push at the clit and the index to dive into the virginal pussy.
"Uh...." The sound was half-moan, half-grunt, but Chris knew that she was used to his single finger. He let it fall all the way inside. She was flat, she did not move; it was as if she were afraid she would dislodge him or else suck him deeper and she wished to do neither. The fit was tight even for one thin bone. He jabbed the clit at the same moment the finger plunged forward. She was dry and warm at first and moisture greased her slowly. The difference between Lisa and Jill was surely the way they moved then-bodies. Lisa was stiff, taut, passive, but every so often an involuntary snap would reveal how much was going on inside of her. That, and the fever heat that coursed through her cunt. Jill was liquid as she brushed her body over his, a slope falling into the curve of a valley; she would pump her naked pussy right over the head of his dork until he ached to penetrate her and then she would taut him more with the wet caress of her tongue.
He kept his finger inside her, but he scurried down the sand to kiss her beUy. She was dry, though below his fingertip betrayed her inner moisture. He could smell the burning quim beneath the bush of hair. The muscle spread like jelly as he pumped her and he wondered if he dared to stick another bone inside. The tongue circled her navel and then scoured the depression itself; she hummed her satisfaction and Christopher took a small hunk of her belly-flesh between his front teeth and ground the enamel from side to side as his tongue spit moisture onto it while his girlfriend squirmed maddeningly under his mouth.
She arched her spine and lifted herself off the sand as he pulled the dungarees to her knees. The panties came directly after them, but these stayed at her thighs, just under the bottom of the beaver. A few ends of the curly hair stood out against the sheer fabric. He pulled his finger from her and wiggled the tip over the inflated clit. His left hand played with her right breast, kneading the flesh back against her chest until she murmured, "No... don't, you're hurting me." He stopped, cupping the tissue gently in his hand and rolling his thumb over the nipple. The texture of the tit was like chocolate pudding that hardened while he stroked it.
He teased her by kissing her stomach open-mouthed, but he ended the tease when his tongue slipped down the middle of the triangle and washed the protruding labia with spit. At the same time his finger reentered the quim and pumped her. As it seemed wider, he poked her with a second bone and the two fingers raced together as she shoved her body down against them as if she wished them to slide up her womb.
He covered his teeth with his lips and sucked in the swollen blister. He put his free hand under and grabbed her butt. He pushed up and forced her stomach up against his mouth. His fingers just barely touched inside the crack and the skin of her butt was warm in his tightening hand. He pressed his lips together and moved his whole head from side to side, rolling his face into the snatch and pushing down on the clit.
He withdrew his fingers from her pussy and squeezed the other globe with that hand, wet with her own moisture. He pulled her toward him as he scraped the button with his tongue, tasting her oils, smelling female odors.
He was shoving her lower torso up and down against his face with his hands and Lisa locked her naked thighs around his neck. He caught a hair of the beaver between two teeth, and she yelped when he turned his head to whip the labia with the edge of his tongue.
Now would be the moment; there was one moment on each date when the issue of actual intercourse came up-and up to now had been decided negatively by Lisa. He crawled up against her and brought his tongue over her lips, entering her mouth gracefully. He took her hand, lying lifeless on the sand, and led it to his crotch. He yanked the buttons open and started to let the prick out from within.
She touched it delicately with the insides of her long fingers. He pushed her hand together into a fist around the cock and a drop of come slipped down the flattened side of the head as her grip tightened. It wet the side of her hand and she pulled back, rolling the moisture back against his hairy groin.
When she was dry she refolded her fingers around the prick and started to work at jacking him off. Her hand was smooth on his skin; her long fingers pressed at the rounded side of the organ while her thumb struck the center of the stalk's flatter side. Each time she pulled the skin up, covering the glans, the balls wobbled inside their bag.
Chris pulled away from her, though it was hard to do so. His stomach ached and his balls were over-ripe with semen waiting to be ejaculated. But he didn't want to waste the orgasm on the surface of her stomach or to spill the warm emission on the insides of her thighs as he pushed into the yielding flesh and spurted.
He waited for a second, pulling himself up and letting the cock's underside rest over her stomach above the pussy. He tried to stall from coming then, and in a moment the danger was passed. He lowered himself, and as he did he kissed her. He reached down and wiped the head clean of the dog-water with his thumb. Then he pushed forward and touched her clitoris with it. She groaned, digging her nails into his arms through his shirt. She gasped, but they had done this a dozen times before, his bearing down on her button, fucking her clit.
He bucked his hips and when the dong came down, he was touching the hole itself. He reached down quickly and aimed the thing properly so it would only take one push to enter her.
He could read the agony of doubt on her face; for the moment she was not seventeen-going-on eighteen, but ageless. She seemed to squeal: "No. You can't. We can't," she added, correcting herself.
"Just a little, he said, uncertain himself as to the degree of his own sincerity. Would he hold himself back from shoving all the way up her and rupturing the hymen?
Usually she would shake her head vigorously at just this point. But it was the moment of delay between the question and its expectable answer (a hesitant "no") that gave Christopher his chance. He squeezed her buttocks in his hands and lifted her up toward the prick. "Just a little," he repeated, and while he held her up in his left hand, the forearm crossing both cheeks, his right hand was stroking the labia as he nailed the head directly to the small hole.
The first sound she made was a muffled scream as the penis ripped through the sides of the outer organ, but her pain was in fact mild: it was really what she feared rather than what she felt at this point that frightened her. She jammed her ass into the sand and the perforation he had just begun was ended.
"Promise," she said. Tears had formed at the corners of her eyes.
"Promise?" He repeated the word as a question, unsure of what she wanted.
"That you'll only stick it in a little way."
"I promise." His heart was beating even more rapidly at the thought that within seconds he would be-if only just a little way-inside her.
He bent the prong at its tip and then took the staff in his fist and twisted it so he could push forward without hurting her more than was unnecessary. This time her snatch seemed even warmer. He had no hesitation about going as far as the glans, but once he had she stopped him, complaining of the pain.
"And you won't come inside me." It was at the same time a statement and a question.
"No," he said, relinquishing that pleasure but glad that he had penetrated her. He watched as she closed her eyes and turned her cheek to the sand. He moved back and the walls folded back together so that when he came forward again she moaned her pain anew. Her cheeks were wet with tears of pain. She bit into her lower lip with her front teeth, trying to brace herself for the pain. His cock was so heavy with semen that he didn't know if he could keep his promise. He would have to spring back quickly and squirt outside of her. But he wanted to make the penetration last, so he sucked his stomach muscles back in toward his body and held himself still for a moment before continuing. Slowly he resumed; the twat hugged him, squeezed him. Her breasts heaved with her deep breathing. There was something transcendent about the pain that glowed from her eyes as they were drawn wide-as if in shock-as he stuffed the first few inches of the cock within her.
At first she was just a warm, placid body beneath him; it was as if he were floating on top of her, as if her considerable breasts were keeping him from drowning in the water below. He put his hand to her groin and his fingertips touched the side of his own prick. Her lips there were moist and feverish. The clit had swelled; as he brought the pressure of his thumb down on it, Lisa's eyes closed tightly and she savored the attention.
She seemed to jam her naked ass into the sand beneath her just as he glided forward in her damp socket; she was trying to keep him from completing the fuck, from rupturing the hymen totally-although a small pool of blood had already dripped between her sprawled thighs. Some grains of the sand moved inside the crack and tickled the inside of her buttocks.
"No," she said as he tried to dig deeper inside the quim than in the strokes before. The blood inside the torn pussy greased the tool, warmed the glans as he whipped the inside of the quim with his stiff rod. But still he was conscious of being kept at a distance, kept from fucking her all the way up to her womb while their genitals locked fully around each other.
He felt the first spasm under his diaphragm, deep inside his belly. The welled semen licked like flames at the base of his intestines. He wanted to drive the stake up her, impale her while the cream shot through the slit in the cock's head, but before the gism even leaked from the tip of the penis he pulled it out-did he imagine it, or was there really the satin-like whoosh sound that he heard?-and then, relaxing, let the juice splatter her perfect nude body, bleaching the pink and tan of her skin with the blinding whiteness of the come.
Lisa was crying; he knew it as soon as his orgasm had spent itself on her naked body. The come scaled the fleshy, hairless thighs and dribbles made their way down the slope of her belly to the surface of the thick beaver. Christopher was not sure whether her tears were of frustration, anger, or perhaps even humiliation.
He did not ask, as he found that by kissing her, rolling his open mouth and parted lips over her own-the tongues exchanging places-he could quiet her; he even noticed the arousal of her own drive that made itself known when she scraped his arms with her fingernails and shoved her sweaty pussy to his stomach, catching the now-limp dork between their bodies.