Rubbed a Little Raw

You stayed like that for half an hour at least. Just embroiled with one another, making out like only those in their late teens can. Dedicating yourselves to the most thorough exploration of the other step-sibling’s face as possible. It was almost impossible to think: that taking two other men’s cocks in hand was what had won you this wonder. Just as coming here in the first place and watching Jenny offer herself to Skeg had given you the chance to share a bathtub alone with her. Try though you might... it was hard not to see the connections there. See the direction she was leading you both down and the hidden desires she was perhaps still keeping hidden. This ‘deal’ seemed to be changing all the time. Growing more and more one-sided, because it almost seemed like she was actually pushing down on the other side of the scales. She was proud of you for jacking off Rod and Dave on to her own face. What did that mean? Did she want you to be more involved with… that side of things?

Your ‘twin’ broke off the kiss for a moment, her breath coming in raggedy gasps. She looked down on you from her position of power, mounted upon your lap and with her naked breasts just tantalising inches from your own salivating mouth.

“You make such a beautiful little sister…” She giggled in a dizzy-from-headrush sounding way. Admiring how the clothes she’d picked out for you clung to your small, effeminate form. Her hands were upon your shoulders now, in a tight and levering grip. The outfit she was referring to had just shrunk into comfortable familiarity by now. The idea that you might one day be able to wear your own, more masculine clothes again seeming to have already faded far by the wayside. So quickly wearing skirts and frilly blouses; the padded bras and secondhand panties she pulled out for you; it all just seemed so normal and routine. Embarrassing still… a little humiliating even. But a sort of background humiliation that you simply accepted and put up with. It was only times like right now: when the last swelling vestiges of your manhood were straining against clothing not designed to hold them, that you really remembered you were wearing them at all.

That feeling of friction and constraint was increasing though, as she continued to grind her hips against you while dipping in and out for further, fleeting kisses. The buttons on the front of those tight, tight jean-shorts digging in to you with an awful combination of pleasure and pain. You felt her teeth upon your earlobe and found an echoing sharpness of discomfort and wonder. It was only when you heard the little moans she was whispering through that crushing embrace, that you realised what was truly happening. She was using you as a scratching post. A rubbing place. A tree to scratch the animalistic itch that always seemed to be boiling between the thighs of your insatiable kin. She shoved her tongue down your throat once more and you could feel the pressure and desperation building up behind it. Your step-sister pushed you further and further back, into the dislodging embrace of the sofa cushions. Her knees and hips following as she mashed herself into you harder and harder.

Meanwhile your own poor erection was feeling nothing if not battered. Unable to stretch out and stiffen in any of the ways it wanted. Cursed by the endless frustration of those unrelenting buttons and the general restriction of netted lace and rough denim. You needed to reach down and undo the damn things… but there was simply no chance to. The bucking creature riding you kept her crotch glued against them like a vacuum-seal, and it was made obvious your hands were required to be fastened to her hips... lest she lose that precious balance of rhythm. You were a throne to be ground against, not a lover in equality. That much you understood perfectly. Though you were fairly certain Jenny hadn’t set out to use you so, simply being swept up in her own desires to remember who you were. You could feel a deep shudder beginning to take hold, deep within the recesses of her pelvis.

She leaned back from you and let her weight hang loose in your supporting arms. Several large, spasming convulsions seemed to roll up through her entirety, starting from that place where your two forms met. To you, she looked like an angel. Floating there, bare chested. In a moment of pure bliss. Some strange inner part of you cracked and overflowed, knowing you had caused such a well of release and pleasure in this one you loved so much. With a gasp, you felt yourself peak too… though in a way you never had before. Though barely able to swell to half the length it possibly could… and only given the second-hand friction of her silky underwear being rubbed upon denim and metal… You felt several spurts of sticky goop empty out into what little space they could find in there. It felt so majestically disgusting, to soil yourself so… Then be trapped there, wilting, in the mess of it. She toppled back forward and then dragged you down with her, ending up in a dog-pile embrace laid out. Her long, blonde hair fell about you and she squeezed up to you cheek to cheek, seeming to fall asleep then and there. So that was how you spent the afternoon, entwined in your ‘twin’… wearing a spunk-filled set of her panties, slowly cooling.