Just a Bit of Fun

Start writing here…Charlie Green cast a tentative, stealthy eye over the top of his morning paper at the form of his girlfriend’s stepsister, Sophie, as she sat across from him at the beautiful marble kitchen table. Valentina had somehow managed to spend six-thousand pounds on that table, and Charlie couldn’t help but think of that every time he looked at it. He could’ve replaced the tyres on his Aston Martin three or four times for that. As he surreptitiously watched Sophie over the sports pages, she nudged her coffee cup and spilled coffee all over the ridiculously priced table.

“Whoops!” she said, leaning forward with her napkin to stop the spreading pool as it raced Charlie’s way. As she leaned, her dressing gown opened and Charlie caught sight of her deep, plunging cleavage and the swell of those wonderful, big, perky tits that had been occupying his thoughts for the past two weeks.

Quickly, he averted his eyes back to the newspaper. He tried valiantly to wrangle his treacherous imagination into line, like a lion-tamer using a whip and an upturned chair to hold back and control a particularly ravenous lion. It was no good though. He felt the rush of blood in his crotch as he remembered how those breasts felt in his hands, the sensation of the large nipples as they hardened under his touch…

“Are you guys going to be alright without me for a few days?” Valentina asked, emerging from the hallway and breaking into Charlie’s perfidious daydreams.

“Eh? Come again?” Charlie said.

“I said, are you going to be able to survive without me here?” Valentina said. She walked, catlike, across the kitchen, swaying in that graceful, balletic way of hers. Her toned arse, in the tight jeans, could’ve stopped traffic. She was dressed all in black; black jeans, black Balenciaga Chelsea boots, long, black Saint Laurent shirt and her favourite RedValentino leather jacket.

“Damn, girl, don’t you look fine!” Sophie said, mopping up the last of the coffee.

“It’s always funny to put those chauvinistic bunch of bigwigs straight on the back foot when you walk into this fucking annual meeting,” Valentina said. “It’s hilarious. They don’t know where to look. They end up looking at you so hard in the eye – not wanting to look anywhere that might be deemed inappropriate that you can feel the back of your head start to bubble. The start of the day is definitely when I get fewer objections to my proposals.”

“And remember to stand up when you talk to them,” Charlie said, taking a sip of his tea.

“Why’s that?”

“Well, dear, because I barely heard a word you were saying just now due to be captivated by your backside.”

Valentina smiled at him, bent down and kissed him. “Noted.”

“Gross,” said Sophie, grinning.

“Don’t distract Charlie whilst I’m away, Sophie,” Val said. “I’m away at this fucking snooze-fest of a conference for two days, so let him get some writing done, huh?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sophie said. She got to her feet and hugged her stepsister goodbye. “I was thinking I’d sniff out a gym or a Pilates class or something. Get my ass moving.” She clutched at her butt and jiggled it – right in Charlie’s face. “The old caboose is getting’ a little squishy what with all these lazy days and big dinners.”

“Alright,” Val said, “I better go. “The car’s waiting outside.”

Charlie walked her down the stairs to the front door. Valentina reached for the door handle and then turned to him.

“Are you going to miss me, baby?” she purred, her dark liquid eyes glittering mischievously.

“I miss you already,” Charlie said. His stomach was a roiling, turbulent mass of apprehension. It was true that he needed to get some serious writing done over the next two days – his publisher was clamouring to have a look at the latest chapters of his novel and he wanted to give them something that’d knock their socks off – but it wasn’t the thought of having to sit down at his computer that filled his guts with metal butterflies.

He’d be alone in the house with Sophie for the first time since he and her had got drunk in his office. He’d be on his own with her, her incredible body and his vigorously inventive imagination. There were the potential ingredients for a disaster if ever he saw some. In the face of her pure, electric sexuality his monogamously-based resolve would melt like an ice-cream in an iron foundry.

“Hurry back,” he said. He reached down and squeezed Val’s arse. She cuddled up to him, pressing him against the door and reached into his bathrobe. He hardened in an instant – Val had always had the diamond touch when it came to his unmentionables.

“You look after my sister and get your work done,” she whispered. “And when I get back I’m going to tie you to the bed and lock our bedroom door for a full day.”

Charlie swallowed. “That sounds lovely,” he managed.

Val sucked on his earlobe and then reached behind him and opened the door. She stepped out into the gloomy early autumn morning. Behind her, Charlie could see a waiting BMW, the driver of which was waiting by its side. Val hefted her overnight bag over her shoulder and said, “You better stay inside, sweetie, I don’t think the neighbourhood is ready to have you prancing around in your bathrobe with an erection you could moor a boat to.”

Charlie looked down. “Ah, good point. And what am I supposed to do with this now you’re gone, may I ask?”

“You’ll think of something.” Val kissed him again and then walked down the steps to the waiting car.

Charlie closed the door behind her and walked back inside. He touched unconsciously at his throbbing boner. It was true, he was as stiff as if he’d dipped his knob in starch. His ever-untrustworthy mind seemed to sidle up the stairs to where Sophie was sitting in her own bathrobe at the kitchen table. He imagined walking up behind her, grasping her firmly by the hair and turning her head. The sharp, clear blue eyes would look up at him, in shocked surprise initially, and then down to where he’d have his dick held in his hand, jutting out from his bathrobe like a lance ready for the charge. She would open her mouth obediently – in mute supplication – and he’d feed her his cock, holding her by the back of her head whilst she let him use her. Perhaps, his other hand would come round and pull open her own robe and free those huge titties, open it wider so that he could look down at her pussy.

Charlie took a deep breath, steadying himself. He felt like the captain of a ship about to plunge down the face of a deep, sheer wave. The thought of a good, rough shag was exactly what his body craved; the sort of selfish animal fuck that was almost a battle between the two parties, as they endeavoured to manipulate the other person’s body into a sex toy that would bring them the sexual gratification that they craved.

As he stood there, the urge to orgasm came over Charlie was strongly that he almost pulled his penis out and started masturbating there on the stairs. He hurried to his bedroom, kicked the door to behind him, unfastened his robe and lay back on the bed. From Val’s bedside table he extricated, from amongst the cock-rings, buttplugs and vibrators, a small bottle of lube. He squeezed some out into his hand and started to stroke it down the length of his shaft, meticulously covering it from tip to base. He even smeared some over his balls and down to the little patch of skin that separated scrotum from arsehole.

Charlie moaned quietly, his eyes closed, as he pretended that his slippery hand was Sophie’s mouth working around his cock and balls. He could see Valentina’s stepsister in his fantasy, as he ordered her to finger herself while she sucked him off. He watched as she slipped two, and then three, fingers into her dripping box, could imagine the squish, squish, squelch as she finger-fucked her self faster and faster. Then, as the tempo of his own jacking off increased, he saw himself, in his mind’s eye, as he pulled her to her feet and turned her, bending her over that fucking ludicrously expensive kitchen table and pulling her robe up.

There was an almost imperceptible sound – a slight creak – and Charlie, with his eyes still closed and unwilling to bail out of this extremely pleasurable fantasy, felt the the air move. He cracked his eyelids the merest fraction of a centimetre so that he could peak into the huge mirror that faced his bed from the opposite wall – the mirror that Valentina loved to watch herself in as they shagged. He could see – indistinctly through his barely open eyes, yet unmistakeably – the form of a petite figure in a bathrobe with a shock of messy, short blonde hair.

Charlie closed his eyes again, not quite sure what to do. His blood still ran like liquid fire through his veins, but it was tempered slightly by a trickle of embarrassment now. Sophie was watching him masturbate!

He continued to stroke his cock, the fantasy – in which he had now made Sophie spread her arse for him so that he had a clear view of her puckered arsehole and juicy, wet cunt – flickering through the background of his mind like the half-glimpsed flashes of lit train windows as they streak past a lonely platform in the dead of night.

Charlie cracked his eyes again to see if Val’s stepsister was still there. Yes, he could still make her out in the reflection of the mirror, standing, as if she were carved from granite, just inside the door. He noticed something else too.

Is she – Is she touching herself? he thought incredulously.

He dared not open his eyes any further, in case Sophie realised that he’d noticed her, but it seemed to Charlie that one arm was tucked into her body – into the folds of her robe – and it seemed to be oscillating somewhat.

Holy Christ, Charlie thought, she’s bloody well getting off to me wanking over her.

The irony of the situation was enough to almost make him laugh out loud; his writer’s brain appreciating that he couldn’t have cooked up a scenario this fraught with danger and potential embarrassment if he’d had all day to do it.

Not knowing how else to extricate himself out of this rather bizarre and sticky situation, Charlie tried to relax and continued with what he was doing. If anything, the knowledge that the woman he was fantasising about was only a few strides from him, diddling herself whilst she watched him get himself off, only heightened the experience for Charlie. It almost divided his mind in two; part of it now pounding Sophie from behind, her giant breasts squashed onto the marble table top as she cried out with ecstasy while he treated her like the filthy piece of meat she undoubtedly was, and the other part imagining her as she stood – ten feet away – secretly rubbing at her swollen clit, slipping a silent finger into her warm pussy.

It wasn’t long before Charlie’s breath started to become slightly stilted. The familiar tense, warmth building deep inside his groin, so deep that it didn’t feel like it was part of his body at all, rather that he’d tapped into some sort of well of lust.

With a gasp and a shudder he came, his stomach muscles tensing and his breath catching as he spurted jizz onto his own stomach. His eyes were screwed up as the sexual tension flooded out of him along with his spunk, but he hoped and imagined that Sophie had been able to cum along with him. His ever dynamic imagination supplying him with an image of her biting her bottom lip, slightly bent forward and crabbed over as her pussy quivered and girl cum ran down her thighs.

Charlie gave a great sigh of contentment. He opened his eyes and looked into the mirror. Sophie was gone, but he noticed that the door was slightly ajar. With a rye smile playing across his unshaven face, Charlie stripped off his dressing gown and padded to the shower.