Harsh Notes

I can just see it. At first she would slowly retreat around the breakfast table, her head shaking nervously and her green eyes filling with tears. Looking for anything to ward me off, she would clumsily reach first for a wooden spoon, then move a chair in my path. My laughter would only scare her or unnerve her more. The feeling of sexual depravity in the room would only add to the excitement. She tries to find an escape route, all the while, whimpering and pleading with me to not do this. Her hesitant sobs and frantic jukes to get past me just work to charge me all the more. Gretchen dashes past me as I reach for her collar, and I hear a ripping sound as the back of her nightgown peels down her back as she darts down the narrow hall. Her slippers fall from her feet and the silky stockings tear in large gashes. Her wobbly feet slide on the slippery tile as she careens into the bedroom and I hear her struggle to throw her weight against the door, in a last desperate stab at keeping me out. It takes just minimal effort to push open the door. She has both hands clenched to the twisting handle and her feet are laboring to keep traction on the old wooden floor. I swing it wide and her half-naked body crumples to the pine, shivering and sobbing. Her body wilts to her knees first, then droops to a very submissive posture at my ankles. Her red hair is tangled into a rat's nest of windblown locks. The green eyes are wild and rimmed in white with bloodshot streaks. Sweat runs in streams down her face and her heaving boobs glitter with the film of perspiration. Her body is dusty from the floor and she twists to conceal her nearly naked body from my view.

I reach under her chin to see those moist eyes, hidden by the dark lashes. Her bare arms are folded defensively across her chest in a hopeless attempt to cover her massive, heaving breasts. And her shoulder-length , dusty-auburn locks are disheveled and plastered to her tear-stained face. I stoop to hook two fingers under the cups of her frilly bra, she offers no further resistance. She wearily drops her arms to her sides as I lift the bra over her head, tossing it disdainfully aside. "No more bras. I want your tits free to me, whenever I'm near." I squeeze each nipple rudely so she gets the point, twisting them harshly between my fingers then I take an extra moment to fondle and caress her full boobs, weighing the heft of these tremendous mounds, the Mt. Rushmore of my prurient, adolescent dreams. Her wide, hunted eyes stare up at me obediently, anticipating my next commands.

The bulge in my pants is obvious and forcefully potent. It is also at her exact eye-level, and has seemed to mesmerize her. With a delicate touch, she smooths the wet hair from her jade-green eyes and wipes the tears with the back of her hand. I see a calm overtake her puzzled expression and her snaky tongue peeks-out to moisten her dry lips. Gretchen languidly rises to her knees with a new purpose. She tenderly rubs both her hands and face against my straining erection. She purrs to me as she eases down my shorts and takes my grand tool into her hands, softly fingering the blue veins and with her thumb, strumming the bulbous head. She cradles my balls in her hand and licks a long, wet trail from the base to the head of my column.

She uses her serpentine tongue to coat my cock with her saliva, and then shamelessly plops the enlarged tip into her mouth. She sucks greedily and hungrily, then gradually slides it out and plants a sloppy, sexy kiss on the slit. She breaks into a wide smile and slips her fingers under the cotton panties, which are wet from her juices and practically see-through. The reddish curls of her pussy are pressed against the cotton, and the outline of her swollen outer lips are plain to see. Two fingers of her left hand snake quickly into her squishy pussy. Obscene sounds pour forth from her pouty lips and her drenched cunt. " You wouldn't believe how much this turns me on, it wasn't until a second ago that I remembered who you are. You're the boy who always rubbed against me at piano lessons, and was always trying to look down the front of my blouse. Well, you've really grown up. I've always had sort of a fetish about a pupil of mine wanting to rape the teacher."

She rose from her knees taking my steel-hard shaft in her hand and led me merrily to the big bed. She pushed me on to my back and slithered her now, naked form along my chest, leaving fluids from my groin to my chin and then back, finally settling on top of my erect totem. She used the muscles of her strong legs to glide gently up and down on my sloppy crotch. Her supple body arched backwards pointing her large endowments to the ceiling and letting her long hair tickle my thighs. She sat down comfortably on my thick pole and appeared to screw herself to the base. I could feel the warmth oozing out of her and watched in stunned amazement as her body gyrated as if in a hypnotic trance. Gretchen rocked back and forth, her eyes closed, her pussy like a vice wrapped around my cock and her small, lean hands cupped the plump tits, fingers and thumbs tweaking the firm nubs. She offered each one to my waiting mouth, eager to have warm licks applied to their generous flesh. She shook so forcefully I could see the waves ripple under her skin.

A sexual vibration that appeared to wash everything out of her. She collapsed on my chest for a few beats and took some very deep breaths to revive. "That was wonderful. That's what my poor pussy has been missing." Then she crawled back between my legs and enveloped my entire shaft into her sultry mouth. She starts a warm, moist tongue-bath. The saliva flows freely down my length and her hand pistons top to bottom, massaging my pole. Her hand quickly warms to the lubrication and next she is feeding my cock past her lips as fast as she can. She makes obscene, slurping noises and slavishly rubs the sloppy slobber around her nipples and all over her shiny tits. I'm squeezing and tugging those wet globes while she then shoves two sticky, cum-soaked fingers into her gaping gash. The feverish action on my cock reached it's climax. As I squirted a thick stream of gooey cream down her throat, she managed another room-shaking orgasm of her own. She lay back spent and softly moaning.

While my cock was still semi-hard and well-lubed, I slid back between her legs which she now locked securely around my waist. I eased into her hot snatch and my cock was instantly recharged. "Please put it in my ass this time, I need to feel a total surrender to you. I've waited so long for someone to release this fantasy. Give it to me. Fuck me. Pound me." The long-anticipated thrill of fucking this heavily-endowed, mature, temptress was everything I had hoped it would be. Then I remembered that she was my father's daughter. My smile faded, the cramped feeling in my pants became a squishy, damp, distraction. And my vision cleared. I saw this lovely woman across the table from me, pause in the act of filling my coffee cup, and very dearly ask if I was experiencing some kind of difficulty. I instantly summoned to mind her lament that every guy she had known had treated her like a piece of meat, and here a "brother" she didn't know she had, was sitting at her table and wanted to do the same thing. I sheepishly felt my thick cock go flaccid on my leg, and I felt that she could see right through me.

I told Gretchen that I had forgotten another appointment and needed to run. I expressed to her that if she would atleast make minimum payments on her bill, our company couldn't really bother her. I even mentioned that we had a used piano in storage and that I could arrange to have it delivered. With my coffee empty, I excused myself (though not nearly for the right reasons,) took one last memorizing glance at her bodacious cleavage and accepted a soft "brotherly" kiss goodbye. My fate was sealed. I couldn't suddenly say we were related, and how could I ever be in the same room without thinking taboo, raunchy thoughts or possibly causing a scandal. Gretchen doesn't know me; probably doesn't remember some no-talent guy from twenty years ago, and now certainly would want nothing more to do with me. The door closed behind me. What are you goin' to do?

I never saw Gretchen again, except in some very erotic memories.

The End

Votes and comments welcome.