Style it out

Sophie started to pace in the darkness of her room but sheer tiredness and the seeming complexity of the options started to overwhelm her. She felt that she had to move to a decision quickly.

She could style it out, and that was the most immediately appealing given that she felt dead on her feet, but she wasn’t convinced she would come out of it well. She could feign deep sleep in the morning and hope he had no recall, but if he remembered any of what had just happened the plan could fall apart.

She wasn’t confident of going to one of the spare rooms in case they were already occupied by Poppy’s friends. Similarly, although Poppy’s room was inviting, that was only the case if her boyfriend was in Sophie’s bed. If it was someone else she might be leaping out of the frying pan into the fire!

That left Evie’s room and with that thought she tiptoed naked out of her room, leaving the boy fast asleep behind her. Turning left, she felt her way left along the wall until she came to Evie’s room. She fumbled with the door knob and pushed the door carefully open. She covered the few steps from the door to the bed quickly, ready to throw back the covers and steal into bed with her daughter and put this behind her, but at the last moment she hesitated. In the light from the Echo Dot alarm clock (that Sophie had resisted buying, but now appreciated!) she made out more than one form under that tangled pile of covers.

‘Fuck!’, Sophie breathed out, partly in annoyance, partly in shock that someone was in bed with her daughter, and backed towards the door again. She paused at the door to gauge whether she’d been detected but also intrigued. The couple, if a couple it were, were not as asleep as she’d first thought and moved intriguingly together. This held an odd fascination for her but she realised she had to move on or risk being discovered.

That left Poppy’s room as the only alternative to her own. She crept out and stealthily closed Evie’s door against her back as she stood, naked, gauging her path to her older daughter’s room across the other side of the landing. Before she could cross the landing, however, she heard voices coming up the stairs to her left. In an instant, she panicked, and fled quickly back to her own bedroom, fearful of her daughters’ mother being seen with no clothes on by the bobbing heads rounding onto the landing behind her.

Heart beating fast and her chest heaving in shallow gasps, trying to keep as quiet as possible, she now stood back inside her room. Where she had started.

‘Fuck!’, she muttered under her breath, ‘back to square one’, as she eyed the sleeping form in the bed that was exceedingly attractive right now. Her mind made up a second time, she tiptoed once again, this time back to the bedside she’d vacated what felt like ages ago but was, in reality, scarcely a few minutes.

Sophie peeled back the duvet, concentrating on her original plan to ‘style it out’. She spoke to herself in her mind, going through the steps: get into bed, keeping a safe distance; sleep (‘please God, sleep, I’m so damn tired’); feign deep sleep in the morning until he left; crossed fingers that the boy will realise his mistake and be so embarrassed that he rushes off to Poppy’s room; don’t say a thing to Poppy - that way we all think it’s a big mistake that is best left unsaid.

As she peeled back the duvet, however, the first chink in her armour appeared when she saw the near perfect, naked, stretched out body revealed from beneath the covers. It was indeed the muscular torso she’d caught sight of in Poppy’s arms earlier that evening. He was easily 6’3”, maybe 6’4 and well built, but that wasn’t all that had caused Sophie to pause, despite her preference for women as sexual partners. She still appreciated the the male form. Especially when the male was ‘formed’ like the sight she beheld, her earlier ‘pinkie’ joke rebounding upon herself as she beheld the marvellous specimen on display between his legs. Curved along his thigh, still semi-erect, it was indeed long, smooth and thick. ‘My goodness’, she breathed, ‘that is....’, as she grasped for a suitable word, ‘thick’, and a tell-tale twitch in her pussy confirmed it had registered within her loins.

Almost subconsciously, she reached out to touch him. It was smooth and warm to the touch, and held a certain, peculiar, fascination for her. On impulse, she scooted gently into the bed so she could cup him more easily in one tiny hand. She watched his cock twitch slightly as she stroked him and stole a quick glance to check that he was sleeping. Not sure quite why she was doing this, she got bolder and formed her fist around the lengthening penis that stiffened as she moved closer in. She wasn’t thinking straight but wondered if he would realise that she wasn’t Poppy if she took him in her mouth, if she pleasured him that way, half-heartedly trying to fool herself that maybe if she ‘relieved’ him he might sleep through the night and enable her to keep up her pretence in the morning more easily.

In a moment, the harsh realisation hit her that she already had his cock in her mouth, her mind seemingly made up. She was excited that she had to open her mouth quite wide, the image she had, from her dream, of the thickness of his member becoming a pleasing reality. His fully erect penis was moist and tasted sour. A taste she knew by experience was that of another woman. In this case, that other woman might be her own daughter and, lost in the act, far from horrifying her, she realised that she found that exciting. Her pussy spasmed again as she moved her head up and down hungrily on the fully engorged penis as she knelt beside him under the covers, replaying in her head the scene she’d heard earlier, feasting on him, wanting to make him orgasm in her mouth as she pictured him and Poppy and the energetic lovemaking that she’d witnessed.

“Mmm, Poppy”, he moaned, as his hand moved to her head and held her there, his girlfriend’s mother, firmly to him as he used her mouth, pushing his gorgeous slick member in and out, her saliva running free.

Sophie couldn’t help but smile at her little masquerade but felt her needs overcoming her. His strokes became more forceful in her sloppy wet maw, and she sensed he was close. She abandoned any lingering caution and moved one knee across him as she rolled him gently onto his back so she could straddle his powerful body. Sophie was small and light compared to him and it was easy to lean forward across his broad chest (it was so tempting to kiss him!) as she raised her bottom up and placed the top of his cock against her pussy. She pushed down and he entered her quickly, smoothly, slickly in one movement. He gasped, eyes still closed, as his member quickly bottomed our in the cunt of the much smaller woman. The stretch hurt her lips, but it was a nice stretch and again she managed a smile. ‘This is..... nice’, she mewed, as she lifted her hips slightly to pull away from him before grinding him in deep once again.

“Mmm... Poppy”, he groaned again, one hand pulling her chin up towards him while his other hand rested on her little bottom, pushing her to him.

“Fuck me!”, she breathed out as his huge cock bottomed out again, the size messing with her mind. But her words were smothered as his lips found hers in a kiss. A kiss gentle compared to the ravages down below as his hips started to move up and down, spearing her tiny frame each time. Again and again he thrust and the kiss became passionate and messy, his tongue mirroring the thrusts of his dick in her cunt.

Sophie had to break away as her breath started to come in gasps, and she braced her small hands on his shoulders. She felt the warm ripples spreading out through her loins as the hand on her bottom pressed her to him, and thought she might orgasm in that moment.

He took that as encouragement and pushed hard, prodding deeper still as he stooped his head and latched his teeth onto a nipple. This time it was Sophie’s turn to groan and she held his head there with one hand as he nibbled and bit her nipple, nursing him as she started to ride her stallion. Back and forth she swung her hips, riding the rigid member embedded deep within her. Riding, riding, riding as she sat up now, bringing him with her as she used him against her sex.

“Nnnngh! Poppy! Poppy! Poppy!”, he groaned against the tiny tit she pushed into his mouth, and she felt him spurt inside her. His hips bucked quickly, rutting with her, depositing his seed deep inside, but still she wasn’t done. Rougher and rougher she ground herself against him. Wet and sticky from him now, with her orgasm so close, images of riding, her hair sweeping behind her in the breeze as she urged the beast, her stallion, onwards, between her thighs. Until finally, it was done.

“Mggghh! Oh my fucking Christ!”, a scream from her mouth before she could stop herself. She bucked. Once. Twice. Again. as she ground him inside her as the waves shot through her and she crushed his head to her breast.

Coming down from that moment, she collapsed forward across him once more and snuggled in close. His head released, he sought out her mouth again but she wouldn’t kiss him, rather she rested her head on his broad chest. As her breathing subsided, she slowly came to herself once more as she lay there, his semen leaking out of her and down her thighs, and started to gather her thoughts.

“What have I done?”, she wondered, feeling good but confused.

“Poppy?, he questioned in the silence of the night, but she hugged him in close to forestall conversation. Her mind still swirled as she lay across him but she needed to plan her next move.

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