He started to rock back and forth above me—slowly at first, but with the muscular pressure of a 170lb football player who was maybe 9/10ths raw muscle. I was surprised at how hot I found it, his dry-humping me. He rocked forward on his hands until he was hovering above me, our faces separated by centimeters. I darted forward and bit his bottom lip, bringing it down toward mine. In an abrupt change of tempo, Landon brought both hands up to frame my face. He tilted my head back and kissed me deeply.
I thought of the great Rhett Butler line, from Gone with the Wind: “You should be kissed, and often, and by someone who knows how.” And then, I stopped thinking. It was happening to me.
Eventually, one skilled hand wound its way to my chest. Landon slipped himself up underneath my t-shirt—a borrowed t-shirt, I realized—and covered one swollen breast in warmth. I found myself bucking up against him, so we fell into humping again. He pinched my nipple between his thumb and forefinger, and I let out a little coo.
“You like that?” Landon whispered, his voice tickling my neck. “You like it when I hold your tit like that?”
I almost giggled at the word 'tit,' but something about Landon's voice made the sound die in my throat. His gruff tone was incredibly hot. In response, I moaned and pressed my crotch up towards his blooming erection. He tilted backwards again, affording me an eyeful of the muscular span of his chest, with its spattering of coiled hairs. He straddled me.
A man.
And all the while, Landon kept working on my nipple. I began to feel a wetness spreading between my legs. My body began to ache for penetration, for the admission of his thick cock. Reading me like a book, Landon positioned one knee between my thighs and began to nose himself towards my entrance, his hand still working my tit. I wanted it faster, though—I wanted it now. I sat up so quickly we nearly knocked heads, and quickly reached to my sides and yanked the grey “UT” shirt up over my head. My skin tingled for a second, exposed against the air conditioning, but I was covered just as quickly. When he mashed himself against me, I felt our nipples brush together. Something about all that sensitive flesh made me moan again.
“Fuck, Landon,” I heard myself cry. I was surprised, having never been a huge fan of the dirty talk before. It was a morning of firsts. His big head rustled against my neck again, nibbled softly at my collarbone. He bent lower and took one my breasts fully into his mouth. He began to suck.
I could still feel his hard-on, straining for love. I reached down and rummaged my way past the slit of his boxers. The girth and smoothness of his cock was as I had imagined it, as I had felt it the night before. Perfectly proportioned. I could not wait to have him inside me.
Landon, perhaps sensing my rising heartbeat, narrowed his mouth to one nipple. He gently took my sensitive flesh between his teeth, and left me dangling there for a moment, on the precipice between pleasure and pain. A first, delicious shock shot through my pussy. I was aware of more wetness, pooling between us. When I glanced down, I saw that the tip of him had begun to grow moist.
“Baby, will you please suck me?” Landon asked—though he didn't have to. Although I also hadn't made myself a reputation for being especially into fellatio, something about his perfect manhood begged my oral attention. I peeled my glistening chest away from his mouth, reluctantly, and fixed my attention on his cock. Slowly, I eased the wide head into my mouth. Landon responded by digging his fingers into the back of my head and shouting “YES!”
I suddenly felt like I couldn't take it anymore, the anticipation—so as my mouth fell into a rhythm, sucking up and down along his shaft, I slid one hand down into the waistband of my panties. I was wetter than I had ever been, and for a second this shocked me. Then, as I felt Landon's cock begin to knock against the back of my throat, bulging with want, I pressed up hard against my clit. The combination of actions almost made me come right then.
Landon looked down approvingly, nodding as he continued to thrust inside my mouth. “Yeah. Touch yourself. Touch yourself while you suck my big hard cock.”
It almost happened again. I felt myself pulsing and pulsing, desperate for release. But I was determined to hold off—I wanted him to make me come. He had promised, after all.
With effort, Landon pulled himself out of my warm, eager mouth. He was so hard that his member immediately rose skyward, pointing past his belly button. He brought my face close to his and kissed me deeply once more.
“Can I put this inside you?” he asked, as he came up for air. I nodded furiously. He reached down and began to tug at my panties. He grew impatient after a moment and dragged them down, fingernails scraping against the soft flesh of my legs.
I was quivering with lust by this point. He let me wait there, dangling himself in front of me like the proverbial carrot. Finally, Landon grinned and bent low, sliding himself inside me in one fluid, perfect motion. I felt myself widen as his shaft pressed inside. It hurt for a moment, but seconds later I was swallowed by pleasure. He fit perfectly.
Off my nod, Landon began to push slowly deeper. It was like my whole body was melting—I might have been made of butter. I took his ass in my hands and began to draw him in deeper; I widened my legs so he could move with more ease.
“Yes,” he cried, rocking faster now. “Oh, God. Oh, God, Ashleigh—your pussy is so tight and wet!”
Once again, I was shocked at my visceral reaction to his dirty talk—seemingly of their own accord, my hands had flown over my head to grip the headboard. Perhaps it was just the fact that he sounded so honest, so plaintive, when he spoke. Or perhaps it was just the fact that he was super fucking hot and I'd been wanting him for months.
I took moments to drink in the contours of his body. He moved with an athlete's grace, no matter how hard he was pounding me. Every muscle, every straining sinew, seemed artfully placed. Yes, every cell in my body seemed to insist. Yes! Take me. Fuck me so hard I forget my own name.
Landon dug his fingers into the meat of my hips, and began urging my body into the same quick time that he kept. The base of my skull thudded against the pine headboard, but I didn't mind the pain. I let my eyes flutter open and closed. I reached down and dug my fingers into my own breast, began massaging myself in time with his thrusts. I looked down and watched his mammoth dick entering me, sliding in and out, sticky and perfect and vast—then I looked up and saw his tender eyes scrunched up with concentration and lust. I tilted my body upward, wrapped my legs around him, and kissed him. I clung to the back of his neck.
“Oh, God!” Landon cried, his breath collapsing against my sweaty neck. His fingers dug into my back, so hard I felt the half-moons of his nails again. Then, I was filled with a sweet warmth. His member seemed to pulse inside me, in one last gasp.
I exhaled, victorious that I'd managed to make him come—but I took one look into my stepbrother's eyes and realized we weren't quite finished yet. He was still panting from release, but with the arch of an impish eyebrow, Landon scurried one muscular hand down the heaving expanse of my body, until two strong fingers had landed on the base of my clit. I shuddered with pleasure on the contact. To my shock, he was still rigid in my pussy.
“I want to make you squirt,” he murmured, voice husky and raw. A spasm of pleasure coursed through me—half the product of his words, half the product of his touch. Slowly but surely, Landon began to rock back and forth again. I felt him stiffening. The concert of movement his whirling fingers made, paired with the thrusting, was nearly too much to bear.