Pol D. hugged his sister, Mariona, as soon as he entered the apartment. She was looking great; she’d lost weight and her skin and hair glowed. University life agreed with her.
“How are you? You look well!”
“I’m great, thanks. The course is amazing, and I’ve met so many cool people.”
“Good, good.”
“And you? Good journey?”
It had been a good journey. He’d got quite a lot of writing done on the three-hour train to Valencia, and he’d emailed his editor the copy. He’d earned the evening off to hang out with Mariona. He’d missed her since she’d moved away. Of course, he was glad to see her spread her wings. But there was still an absence in the home where she had been.
“We’re booked in for dinner tonight. There’ll be four of us. Us, Jonatan, and his sister.”
“And Jonatan is…?”
Pol couldn’t help but smile as he teased his sister. He had no doubt that Jonatan was…
“I’ve been seeing this guy. He’s so cool. You guys will get on, for sure.”
“Good for you.”
And he meant it. He wasn’t the type to resent his sister for the domestic happiness that he had not yet found, even if she was younger than him.
“So, brother, any developments in YOUR love life?”
Pol shook his head almost unwillingly. He had slept with a woman four days ago if that counted. Briefly, the image of Ana riding him flashed into his mind. She wore her body well. Her skin was pale, her hair was long and black, and her breasts were large. Her belly was the perfect size. Neither thin nor fat, but perfectly proportioned. He’d enjoyed gripping her flesh as she rode him, feeling her tighten around his cock.
Ana had not been an adventurous fuck. She’d only attempted or invited him to two positions, endlessly repeated. Cow-girl – missionary. Cowgirl – missionary. Eventually, she’d helped him finish with her right hand.
Pol had screwed her, and she’d left. And he’d finished the bottle of wine they’d started alone. Then started another. He hadn’t called her yet.
“I’m looking. Halfheartedly, perhaps. But I’m looking. I’m quite set in my ways, you know.”
“Yeah, I know. Come on, let’s get ready. They’ll be waiting.”
When they met at the restaurant, Mariona kissed Jonatan square on the lips. This surprised Pol. She’d always been coy about public affection with boyfriends before. Clearly, Jonatan was making an impression on his sister. The woman with them introduced herself as Carla, Jonatan’s sister. Carla was short and dressed in leather pants and a blue blouse. She had curly blonde hair down to her shoulders and a winning smile. Her eyes were a beautiful blue. Pol liked her on sight.
Jonatan was a cool guy. He had travelled widely and played football for a decent local team. Pol and he both supported Barcelona and they bonded over their recent triumphs and failures. It was a pleasant dinner, all in all, and they went on to a bar for a nightcap. At the bar, gradually, the foursome became two pairs as Jonatan and Mariona sat and giggled and kissed, and Pol chatted up Carla. When they were close, Pol smelt her perfume and brushed his hand on her hair. She was soon touching his arm and flicking her hair. They all left the bar and went home at about one o’clock.
“This is your room. The bathroom is downstairs. We’re next door if you need anything.”
They all shared a nightcap and retired to bed at about two o’clock. Pol rested his head on the pillow but, as is the way in unfamiliar beds, he didn’t just drop off. He lay awake, thinking about Carla. He imagined her knocking at his door. He imagined her moving in quickly for a passionate kiss. He imagined her pulling her blouse over her head, then reaching for his…
“Shhh,” he heard someone say.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Something was moving in the next room. To his horror, he realized it was the bed. The bed was moving, and he knew exactly who was in it. His sister was in that bed. And now she was enjoying her boyfriend’s cock and he could hear…
Knock. Knock. Knock.
“Ah! Ah!” a gasping sound and the knocking increased in speed. Pol rolled over and put his hands over his ears. They might have waited till he was not there. He had to admit, to be fair, they’d drunk a fair bit.
“Oh, oh….” Then there was a high-pitched squeal. Pol buried his head under his pillow. But even with the sound muffled, his mind’s eye couldn’t help picturing Mariona on her back, her plump breasts jiggling as she was pumped. Pol had never wanted the oblivion of sleep more. He scrunched his eyes shut and tried to imagine it was Carla disrobed, Carla’s bed being shaken…
The giggling and the gasps went on and on until at last, it was only Jonatan moaning. Pol tried to believe that his sister was not sucking his dick, but he knew deep down she was.
At breakfast the next day, Pol kept silent. But he saw his sister was in a vibrant mood, bustling around the kitchen and swaying her hips to the music on the radio. She looked like someone who had had her needs met.
They agreed to spend the day at the beach. The four of them swam and played volleyball. Pol watched Jonatan and Mariona splashing each other in the sea. They were far away. They talked and laughed, and Carla and Pol rubbed sun-cream on each other’s backs, in imitation of Jonatan and Mariona. The way her fingers pressed into his skin left him in no doubt she was interested. He risked it. Pol leaned in and gave Carla a kiss. She responded eagerly, and it went from brushed lips into a proper kiss. The sun was warm on his skin, and he was kissing a beautiful woman. What could be better?
The answer would come later that night. The four of them ordered a couple of pizzas and beer and hung out in the living room, smoking pot. Pol felt good. As excruciating as hearing the bed bump last night had been, he could see Jonatan was clearly an OK guy. And he was making her happy so who was he to complain? And Carla was gorgeous. He was longing for Jonatan and Mariona to go to bed and leave them alone. The hours ticked on though, and his heart was in his mouth when Carla got up to go to bed. He was going to miss his chance! Jonatan and Mariona swiftly followed suit and headed upstairs, leaving him alone with the last beer. Rolling his eyes, he cracked it open…
The door opened. It was Carla. Wordlessly, she held out one hand and put her finger to her mouth with the other. Pol allowed himself to be led to the next room, which it turned out to be her bedroom.
The door closed behind them. The change in atmosphere from the smoky, beery living room to the intimate air of the woman’s bedroom was stark. Femininity hung in the air here. He was immediately aroused. Carla jumped back onto the bed and then sat up, motioning for him to join her. He climbed on board and sat next to her. They leaned in and kissed, brushing lips, and he held her bottom lip between his. Her tongue made the first move and soon they were kissing passionately. Their hands began to stray. Hers grabbed his arm and ran down it. He ran his fingers through her hair, and the smell of the room and the kissing caused him to start to harden. Carla paused and slid down, so she was lying on her side. He joined her, and then their hands went wild. He caressed her bottom as she did to his, and he fondled her breasts. And they kissed more. He loved kissing Carla, and she was insatiable for his kisses. They made out for what seemed like hours.
At last, she began to unbutton his shirt. When he was topless, she leaned in and kissed his neck and then his chest.
“You smell so good,” she whispered. Pol was happy to take the compliment, especially as she was now kissing his chest. Now his belly. As she moved downwards, he grew harder. Carla kissed his belly button, then straightened up on her knees. She reached down and pulled off her blouse. The bra was off a moment later. Pol looked at her torso admiringly. He’d practically seen it all, of course, when she’d been in her bikini on the beach, but this was different. Her breasts were well proportioned, something like 32C, he guessed. Her navel was long and shallow. Cute. Her curly locks fell around her bare shoulders.
Carla reached for Pol’s trousers and, with a little wriggling on his part, they soon had them down. He was rock hard now. Carla leapt to her feet, unbuttoned her jeans, and dropped them. Then she got back into bed.
Now, they both only had their pants on, and the physical desire was mounting in them both. They kissed feverishly, and hands cupped genitals through the cotton. Pol felt that her crotch was damp. He felt like he could explode. On impulse, he left off kissing her and moved quickly down her body, until he was on his knees in front of her. He seized her knees and gently parted them, then he crawled forward. Her crotch was deliciously warm as he kissed it. He took her panties between his finger and thumb and pulled them down.
A minute later, his forefinger was inside her, and his tongue was tickling every inch of her vagina. He had never been with a woman he had been so instantly attracted to. And she tasted amazing. He buried his tongue inside her, and she began to moan appreciatively. Pol closed his eyes and recalled the image of her lying on her back in her bikini, then he pictured her pulling off her bra, and then he thought of how her ass had felt as he’d rubbed it, and still he licked her. Carla was gently rocking on her hips now, and Pol was harder than he had ever been. He had been licking her pussy for, what, twenty, twenty-five minutes? He had been picturing her body and enjoying her scent and her taste. He felt he could stay down there all night.
At last, though, Carla came with a moan. She pushed his head gently away.
“Good work.”
“Thanks!”
“Can I repay the favour?”
“Sure.”
He crawled over and lay on his back, and she scooted along the bed. Carla watched him pull down his pants. Pol’s cock was so hard, she didn’t think he would last very long. She took the base in her hand and pulled it up and down, then she knelt and gave it a lick. Pol wanted to reach over and jerk himself. It was almost instinctive as he was so aroused. He put his hands behind his head on the pillow to restrain himself and closed his eyes as Carla went to work.
The sensitive nerves on the end of his cock began to dance as they were embraced by the damp warmth of Carla’s mouth. The tip of Pol’s penis felt as if the lightest of electrical stimulation was being applied. He longed to jerk it, to reach orgasm, but she knew what a man really wanted. She was prolonging it, stretching it out. Teasing him. By sucking only the glans, she was denying him orgasm whilst making it feel so, so good. He was in ecstasy. He could think of nothing but what was going on at his midriff, so all-consuming was the experience.