Valentine’s Candy: Open Wide – Part 2

Free Erotic Stories: Valentine’s Candy: Open Wide – Part 2

The curious girl snuck closer. She still wore the simple sundress and tennis shoes from before. Looking down, she could make out the bulge of the raised channel running along the belly of his shaft and followed it to the sensitive connection with the head.

Candy leaned over him, examining that junction. The lower ridge of his head came together from both sides there with two graceful curves joining, creating a valley that widened as it flowed into the raised channel. She could make out a tiny ridge of soft wrinkled skin where they all came together.

Her eyes traveled over the head. Up close, it was noticeably redder than the shaft. The whole thing looked a mess, like something had dried on it. She wondered if it looked that way after masturbation.

The thought gave her a shiver. Had he masturbated thinking of her? He’d admitted that she had inspired his erection. It had felt so much bigger squeezed between them. Looking down on it now, she could almost see how it might possibly fit inside her…no, still too big, still dwarfing the electric toothbrush.

His balls drew her. Lifted high by the the elastic band under them, they rested like eggs in the loose, wrinkly sack. Not the most aesthetic of things, she still wanted to reach out and cradle them in her hands, feel their weight. Oddly, Candy fought an urge to knee down and sniff, her nose and face right where his cock disappeared under those eggs.

The thought brought her attention to what she did smell. Valentine’s room had a lingering aroma of spicy muskiness on top of his scent.

Amazed at her own boldness, Candy crouched low and leaned over him. She avoided bumping in to his near leg while she brought her face down close to his balls.

She inhaled. It was stronger, muddier than along the side of his neck and jaw, but the smells were related. She inhaled again as she traced the air inches above his shaft to the head. Close up, it did look like thick fluid had dried on the thin, soft looking skin.

Combined with the scents, and the sights, the thought that he had orgasmed – cum! – thinking of her lit a surge of warmth through her. She felt her her cheeks flush and a shiver ran up her spine.

“Can I help you?” The voice was gravelly, unexpected, and very close.

Candy shrieked, caught where she had no business being, and jumped back. Or would have jumped if her heel hadn’t snagged on Val’s larger foot. She stumbled to the floor, landing hard on her bottom.

Valentine’s voice was gravelly with sleep. When Candy yelled and fell back, disappearing from his view, he sprung up.

“Shit! Are you okay?” He was still groggy, but worried about her. As soon as he gained his feet, his pants around his thighs surprised him, and he fell on top of his stepsister.

Twisting, he managed to catch himself with his hands on the carpet, so all his weight didn’t land on the smaller girl. Instead, he ended up arched over her, bare ass in the air like a very poor downward dog. His cock hung down like a salami on display, as though he had contorted himself this way for her ease of viewing.

The complete silence, motionless except for his heavy pendulum swinging slightly before her, lasted no more than a second or two. Then they both burst out laughing, too hard. It helped cover the discomfort.

Neither wanted to be the first one to stop laughing, so Val continued to chuckle as he lifted himself carefully from above her and sat on the edge of the bed. He tucked himself back into his pants as he did.

Candy’s laugh trailed off to a giggle as she watched him, sad to see his private parts disappear but fascinated with how he folded them in and tucked all that stuff away.

Valentine still suffered from the fog of a deep sleep interrupted too soon. She took advantage.

“Is that the way all the boys nap in those prep school dorms? Beat off, then pass out with their wangs exposed to the world?”

“What? No! I didn’t beat off.” The immediate questions from the young girl didn’t help his mental clarity, but the instinct to deny masturbation was immediate.

Candy regained her feet. Pressing her advantage, she looked down at him doubtfully, crossing her arms. “I leave a high school boy alone with a boner, and find him passed out with ejaculate dried on him an hour later. That spells wanker.”

Her whirlwind of accusation, raining down from above kept him off balance, frustrated, not thinking. “I am not a wanker, dammit! Aunt Marguerite…”

“You fucked Aunt Mar?” Behind the shock, Candy was surprised by the instant sickness she felt.

“What? Enough with the questions!” Valentine slammed his hands down on the mattress.

Candy clammed up, feelings of hurt, jealousy, and guilt that she had pushed Val like that, to anger.

He took a deep breath before meeting her eyes. The anger was gone. “Do you want to know?”

She nodded shyly. He patted the bed next to him. She sat, a small space between them. His eyes were on hers.

“We have secrets now, don’t we?” He reached a hand up and traced her lip with his thumb.

Candy nodded with more enthusiasm. She liked their new secret.

“I’m going to tell you another secret. I didn’t beat off, though I wanted to after the way you left me.” She blushed. “And I didn’t fuck Aunt Marguetite.”

He let that sink in. “Except her mouth.”

Candy’s confusion was obvious, but she was nothing if not a quicker learner. “If you didn’t…except her…you fucked Aunt Mar’s mouth? Like a blow job? With Aunt Mar?”

Valentine was grinning at her. “I said it was a secret. Mom would probably kill us both.”

“But she’d be fine with you shoving that big thing up against poor virgin me?”

“No.” He was shaking his head. “That’s why that is a secret too. And I didn’t shove it against you.”

“Bro, you seem to have a lot of secrets.”

“I’d like to have more secrets with you.”

Candy’s smile lit up her face. “That deserves a kiss.”

Their lips and tongues continued where they had left on in the garden. She leaned into him. His arm snaked around her waist and pulled her closer. The kiss continued as they fell back onto the bed. She felt his arm tighten around her waist, as though to roll her on top of him. She pulled back.

“Wait.” She looked over at the open door, then back down at him. “For future reference, in the maintenance of secrets, closed doors are an asset.”

With that she pulled away from him and closed the door. He heard the lock turn as he pushed himself up toward the headboard until he was stretched out entirely on the bed. She surprised him by climbing directly onto him, sitting up across his thighs, his bulging package displayed within easy reach before her.

“Tell me about Aunt Mar. She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” She looked so eager, so innocent, and the young man found himself wanting to share this secret with her, and many more. Anything for them to share.

“Not as beautiful as you, Candace. Not even close.”

She simply looked at him then. He had rarely called her by her given name before. It made it sound so serious, so sincere.

He told her almost everything then. Not every detail of every encounter, but enough. How Marguerite had seduced him the first time in the pool. How she taught him to fuck her mouth and her throat and pound her curvy little body.

He told her about Mrs. Malone too. Who got off on not being able to take him all in as much as Marguerite got off on having him as deep as he could go, fucking her hard.

“Can I watch?” Candy had listened in silence at his confessions.

“Huh?”

“Can I watch you fucking Aunt Mar? She’s going to want to while you’re in town, you know it. She wouldn’t miss a chance to get this big fucking dick of yours. Again.”

She struggled to sit still while he revealed his sexual antics as the rising tension inside encouraged her to touch herself, to push herself against something. The tension that had been simmering since their walk, now bubbling faster.

The conflict was plain on his face. What she was asking was all kinds of wrong. And very tempting. The thought of pulling one over on the woman who was always in control sexually appealed to him, as did the image of innocent Candy watching intently as he fucked her.

Candy let him off the hook by leaning forward to lower herself onto him until her lips met his.

“It’s okay.” She kissed him again. Both of them aware of the missile trapped between them. Her weight pressed it into her belly more than just leaning into him had on their walk. “You don’t have to let me watch.”

She rubbed her lithe young body down onto his as she kissed him again. “I was messing up the plan. My next lesson is supposed to be ‘Further Uses of the Tongue.’ Right, teacher?”

She lifted herself upright on him without warning. The yellow skirt was bunched over her legs. Her look was one of mock bewilderment. She even put a finger to her chin in consideration. She completely ignored acknowledging how much of her weight rested on his thick log now trapped under her damp cotton panties.

“Sir, one thing still confuses me: is this lesson your tongue on me?” She traced both hands down opposite sides of her slim body, from outside her small firm breasts down over her waist, to end flaring out on her hips. Ever so slightly, those small hips rocked back and forth on that very big log.

“Or do we begin with my tongue on you?” Both hands lowered. Her fingers stroked down his chest leisurely, delayed on the the moguls of his washboard stomach, obvious through his thin shirt, and stopped on the large knob that appeared from between her legs.

She shuddered involuntarily when her thumbs bumped her own swelling sensitive little knob. Since she had discovered the release of the shower head, Candy had found several ways of duplicating the pulsing jets’ effect. Many of them centered around this hidden nub, both to torture herself toward the point of unbearability, and to let loose the tension once the spring was wound tight.

Recently she had uncovered a way to bypass the clit, and get a similar but somehow deeper release. Curious about the actual ‘insert penis in the vagina’ process, Candy searched her belongings for a suitable surrogate. Something vaguely cylindrical, and not too big.

The handle of a hair brush was her first lover. Naked on her bed, she slipped the handle into her mouth, sucking it. Her first blow job, she giggled to herself.

Her saliva added lubrication but it probably wasn’t needed. The tension in her belly had reached a frantic state when she’d begun her search. The very act of searching for a faux cock to give herself an orgasm excited her more.

While she’d enjoyed the filling feeling as it entered her, she had to return a hand to the magic button to get the strong release she needed. It had been that release, with the plastic handle still inside, that received the credit for taking her physical maidenhood.

The next object she tried, and the first lover to blow her mind, was her toothbrush. The handle was a shaft slightly larger than the brush. It was waterproof and easy to wash. She assumed a real human penis couldn’t be much thicker than that.

The handle wasn’t very long and the end was flat with rounded edges. Even the small button on the side was a streamlined sealed rubber affair on the side. She figured if she wanted to slip it in deeper, she could hold onto the brush part like a handle. Her only concern was the blunt end, thicker than the rounded brush handle had been.

She breathed out deeply, blowing the air toward the ceiling above her bed. After slipping tortuous fingers inside her, as she found herself doing more and more recently, and some sucking and licking on her new second lover, she had managed to ease the blunt tip inside.

Not far, but enough to need to adjust to the stretched, filled feeling it brought. It was odd to sense her body relaxing around the invader while it continued to tense.

She slid it further in. She threw her head back with a whimper as the fullness increased. She concentrated on her breath. Her torment was reaching a peak, the unfamiliar pressure adding to the unbearability, but she suspected she might still need the magic button to set her off.

Candy resisted the urge to touch herself and instead changed her grip on the toothbrush to ease more in. A finger pressed the sealed rubber switch, forgotten on the side.

The motor encased in the handle was intended to send powerful “sonic vibrations” through the brush end to release plaque and tartar from the teeth. Starting that oscillating motor while it was a encased in a waterproof shaft inside Candy’s tortured and teased body released her climax.

She hadn’t expected the toothbrush to buzz to life. She didn’t know she could climax without touching her clit. She had no idea a release could be still stronger, more overwhelming than what she had already experienced. Accidentally pressing that little button opened her mind.

“So that’s what it’s like to have a penis inside,” the bright but naive girl thought. “To be…fucked by a cock.”

She was wrong, of course. A week after she started spending her free time with her waterproof rechargeable new friend, the professor had grabbed her and tried his tongue probe. Shortly after that she had approached Mom about needing a tutor.

The very next day, she had kissed a boy in the garden. A really cute boy, even if he was still in high school and kind of a jock. He was a really good kisser, and the shaft she was now fondling through his pants made her plastic boyfriend seem like a joke.

The large head moved under her touch. It pulsed into her fingers, swelling larger for an instant, but also moved, migrating up Val’s belly as his shaft lengthened more. She heard him groan, but only distantly, her attention completely focused on the expanding wet spot forming over his tip.

“Candace.” Again, he called her that. It got her full attention. She had never seen him so intense. “Candace, do you really want me to teach you?”

She squealed, her hips rocking their answer. “Please, yes. Teach me everything. Sir.”

“Very well. Today’s lesson, as you reminded me, is the tongue. Stand up.”

She looked disappointed, but climbed off her handsome stepbrother. Once Valentine regained his feet and adjusted his pants, he guided the young beauty to the large mirror. He stood close behind her, a hand on each bare shoulder. They both looked at the image they saw: straight blond hair above the simple yellow sundress, bare legs and white sneakers in front of the larger young man, his head visible looking over her, his wider shoulders and chest showing behind her.

“My god.” He whispered. “You are so incredibly gorgeous.”

Her gaze dropped, embarrassed, but she leaned back against him with a purr. She watched his head dip, saw him kiss her neck before he continued.

“If you want to call me ‘sir’ and have me teach you, fine. But you’ll have to dress the part. “He kissed her neck again, sending a shiver down her spine. “My little schoolgirl.”

She responded to that with a small “Ooo” sound and rubbed her little butt back against him.

“But today, you get your second lesson in uses of the tongue,” he allowed his tongue to run under her ear. She gasped. “From your brother.”

“Mmmm. I like that.” She answered.

“The same brother who kissed you in the garden today, is going to show his sister how good a tongue can make her feel.”

As they both watched in the mirror, his arms slipped around her from behind. His right slid across her flat belly and pulled her back against his cock, the bulk filing and pressing apart the small space between her cheeks. His left hand ran along her ribs, across her midsection, and boldly settled cupping her firm right breast through the soft stretchy fabric. Four eyes silently stared at the reflection of the hand.

Somehow, feeling and watching Valentine fondle her breast, not groping or squeezing, but holding it, moving almost imperceptibly as though merely beginning to become acquainted through the gentlest of explorations, was more intimate and frightening to her than seeing and feeling his oversize dick. imgur.com/9Ve38As

“That’s not your tongue.”

“It will be.” She shuddered. She honestly had not thought specifically about where the tongue was going.

“For today there are two main areas we’ll be covering.” He squeezed gently, feeling the firm resistance to his fingers that he had hoped for. His thumb dragged across the equator of the perfect half globe and finally found the rise of her nipple through the pucker of the elastic fabric.

He circled the hardening bud with more pressure. Valentine had been tutored well by two more more experienced lovers. This was his first chance to help educate someone else, to be the teacher. An image of Candy in plaid skirt popped up, uninvited.

“Remember. Anywhere I use my tongue on you, especially if it’s an area that feels good to you, you can use on me. Like here.” Adding a finger to his thumb, he pressed them slightly together, hinting at pinching her little nipple.

“A man’s nipples are just as sensitive as yours.”

Candy managed to tear her eyes from the reflection of his hand on her. She leaned up to rub her cheek against him, tuck her face close under his jaw. She felt the slight roughness of an unshaven chin. Her voice was hoarse. “Can I…taste your nipples?”

“Not yet. Maybe tomorrow if you’re good. Would you like me to taste yours?”

“Hell yes!” She arched back against him. She reached back with her hands, trying to reach around his hips enough to pull him tighter to her.

Val left her nipple and ran his hand up onto her skin above the dress. The hand on her belly released her. He brought it up to her thin shoulder strap and guided it down over her arm. The top stretched to allow his hand inside and over her breast as he eased the material down. He cupped her exposed pale breast, the small darker nipple distinct and framed by the bandeau tan line from the small bathing suit she generally wore.

“So beautiful,” he whispered.

“So small,” she replied.

“So perfect.” He eased his hand from under her, turned her by her slim shoulders until she was sideways to the mirror. He stepped in front of her.

Leaning down, he paused with his lips hovering over her bare nipple. He knew he had to go slow, much slower than in his introductions. Candy’s head was turned to watch him in the mirror, to see the silhouette of his lips part and the soft center of his tongue contact the very tip of her raised nub before sliding caressingly over it.

Her knees buckled. Only a little, and she caught herself easily. But no touch of her nipples had ever done that before.

Val stood and looked down at her. “Are you okay?”

She bit her lower lip and nodded. “Oh yeah. More than okay. You make me feel really good, bro.”

“There’s more to come.” She smiled at the look on his face as he realized what he’d said.

“Yeah. I heard something about two main areas. What’s the other one, huh?” She had a pretty good idea, even if being proven right made her a little nervous.

“You’re jumping ahead, little sister, but I’ll show you the second part of the lesson. Then you have to concentrate on the first part. Remember, pay attention in case you find yourself in a position to return the favor.”

“Like Aunt Mar?” She was blatantly teasing him, but he played it straight.

“No. That’s an advanced technique. Graduate level stuff.” As he spoke he turned her again to face the mirror, holding her from behind. She leaned back against him, molding as much as she could to his shape. He cupped both firm young tits, one still covered.

“So this is the first target area for the tongue we are covering today. Assuming the student is able to absorb the material, we may have time for the second main area.”

Valentine placed his hands on the slim swell of her hips, grasping the dress’s skirt on either side. He didn’t dare breath. He was about to expose a treasure and he feared one wrong move might spoil it.

Looking over her shoulder, he watched the hem of her skirt slowly climb as his fingers gathered the fabric in. Vaguely, he felt her fingers tugging him tighter against her.

Her thighs were tan and smooth and long. As more of them were revealed, the gently curving sweeps continued to show a space between them. Then her thighs ended.

With a last upward lift of the fabric, Val exposed her thin panties. His knees buckled now as he groaned.

Her panties were pale yellow to match her dress and unadorned. The space between her thighs was covered by a gentle double curve of cotton, a shallow indent running between them. The lower portion was transparent with moisture and a sheen of wet highlighted the top of one inner thigh.

Most boys his age, in the same situation, would be trying to figure out to quickest way to get their dick inside the beautiful eager girl, stepsister or not. Valentine knew, and had been warned, that there was no way he was getting inside a girl like her. The knowledge gave him patience, sure it could only go so far.

He led her back to the bed, gathering her into his arms for a long kiss before guiding her up onto the covers. He clambered up beside her. Her skirt was still bunched up high on her legs, but her soaked panties were hidden.

With one finger, he lifted the second shoulder strap up and soft her. With both hands he shimmied the top down around her waist. She was stunning. He had seen her in bikinis for years. He knew what suit had given her these tiny tan lines.

Never before had her sweet, smooth belly looked like this to him. She was open and exposed to him, trusting him with her body. Trusting him not to hurt her.

He locked his lips on the more recently exposed nipple and sucked. Candy squealed with an arch of her back. When he flicked his tongue over it between his lips, she grabbed the back of his head.

He released the hard little bud to look at her face. She was panting, hands in his hair. “So you like that?”

She nodded before tightening her grip on his head. “Definitely. More please.”

He used his tongue more now, flicking harder over her swollen nipples. The kissing, tugging on it gently with just his lips before renewing his tongue’s assault.

Candy cried out. He moved back to the first, neglected breast. He cradled it in his hand, squeezing it as though checking for ripeness. It felt perfect in his hand. Not sagging in the slightest, firmly resistant to his pressure, but alive in a way Mrs. Malone’s implants couldn’t be.

He pinched the sensitive nipple, pulling it up away from her body slightly, stretching her breast to a point. It didn’t hurt, but her face showed worry that it might.

He held it there while he ran long soft licks over the captured nubbin. Stimulated on that tender spot while held in a place just before pain, Candy couldn’t hold still. Her fingers twisted in his hair while her toes clenched repeatedly, trying to grasp at something uselessly inside her sneakers.

He slid up to kiss her. Her hands stayed grabbed at his head while she kissed him back more frantically than ever. Her tongue was hungry and aggressive. She pressed her body against his.

When she pulled back her lips were swollen, open and panting. He saw fire in her eyes.

“Will you be mine? I’m not even sure what I mean, but I know I want you to be mine. Will you? Be my Valentine? Be mine?”

Suddenly, his throat was dry. He didn’t know what to say. He nodded.

She kissed him. “Thank you.”

She glanced down, where her dress bunched around her middle. “Are you really going to lick me like that, down there?”

“If you want me to.”

“Yes I want you to! Can you feel how close I am to a climax?”

“Climax? Are you going to cum?”

She nodded. “Oh yeah. I can feel it. Please.”

“Please do what? I want to hear you say it.”

“Val! You tease. Please lick me. Please make me…cum with your tongue. My Valentine.”

He slid down without answering, nipping at one breast as her passed, kissing over her smooth stomach. Her legs opened as he slid between them. Drawing close, he blew lightly over the wet fabric clinging to her lips. Nothing was hidden. bit.ly/HotttT

She lifted her hips to him. “Yes. Right there.”

He ran his tongue along her slit, over the cotton. She groaned as he tasted her juices soaking the cloth.

“So close.”

He ran his tongue up higher and her hips bucked.

“Oh god.”

Valentine fixed his lips to the cotton directly over her swollen hidden clit and sucked. She screamed at the intense sudden sensation.

He added his tongue, flicking over the spot as it had done on her nipple. Her back arched in one long spasm. A prolonged growl escaped her as she ruptured inside, her arms and legs swimming aimlessly as she was lost in the rapture.

Valentine was in heaven. As she continued to writhe, he pulled the soaked cotton panel aside and buried his face in her virgin slit. Licking deeply, sucking voraciously, savoring every morsel he could, he devoured her.

Candy felt the tension that had been building up in her for hours now, begun by a kiss and fueled by the evident bulge that she had inspired on a dreamy walk with a handsome boy who made her feel so comfortable and so tormented, teased to new heights by sights and sensations completely new to her culminating in his tongue and lips on her most private parts, finally release.

Before now, in she brief experience with her own climaxes, the pressure built, often to near agonizing levels, and then it was released. Release may come from fingers, a massaging spray, or a vibrating toothbrush. The release felt wonderful, but so did the build up in her center, the winding of the spring, the torture.

This time was different. In many ways. She had never cum with another person present. Not watching, or touching, or licking or sucking. More importantly to Candy at that moment, though, was another way this was different.

Valentine’s kisses, and his talk, and his touches and his cock had her wound tight and ready to explode. She could have cum with what his mouth was doing to her nipples, she was sure, but the tension has reached such a pitch she needed the release.

Then his lips and breath and tongue found her button. The release was immediate and strong. Sight and sound were lost to her in the rush of overwhelming waves passes through her.

The sensation on her clit was so intense as she came that she would have begged him to stop if she could have thought or spoken. Instead, the intensity shot skyward, the white light blinding her became white hot fire burning without consuming.

Tension flooded into her center as quickly as it released. The agony of her tormented senses, pushed beyond their limits, continued on and on and on.

Eventually, Valentine’s licks and kisses slowed. The bucking of her sweet hips stopped and the arch that had held her rigid relaxed, but continued to shake, almost like a deep shiver from near hypothermia.

He climbed up to her and gathered her in his arms. He held her as her shaking gradually slowed.

Her breath quieted. Without lifting her head from his chest, her voices muffled, she murmured, “What did you do to me?”

He stroked her hair and kissed her forehead. He chuckled, proud of himself. “You’ll be okay.”

“No. I won’t be okay. I thought I was going insane or that my head would explode and I already want to do it again. I don’t think I’ll ever be okay, Val. You’ve ruined me.”

He kissed her forehead again. “You’re welcome.”

“Oh, by the way. Would you be my Valentine?”

Candy pulled away from him, to stare at his face, as if to see if she was being kidded. “Be Valentine’s Valentine?”

“Exactly.”

“Yes please.” With a squeal of delight, she pressed her lips to his. She quickly pulled back to look at him.

“Dude, you taste funny. What have you got on your face?”

“Only you, beautiful, only you.”

Val rolled toward the nightstand and check the time on his phone. “Oh shit. Can, Mom could be home anytime.”

They both looked down at themselves. Candy’s yellow dress was a scrunched up tangle around her waist, revealing perfect untanned titties above, and soaked panties pushed aside, hiding nothing below.

It took her no time to adjust underwear and pull the dress back over her young breasts. She straddled him, pinning his down wrists with her small hands, and kissed him.

“Thank you. I look forward to our next lesson.” She pushed herself down on his bulge as she said the last. She kissed him again, deeper, then licked along his chin. “And wash your face before Mom gets home.”

She bounced out of bed, smoothed her skirt quickly in front of his mirror, and blew him a kiss on her way out. She popped back into view and exaggerated the motion of grabbing the door knob and beginning to swing his door closed.

He heard her theatrical whisper, “And don’t forget to close your door.”

Valentine reclined and stared at the ceiling, stunned. He kept seeing Candy arched above him while he licked her to an ongoing climax, alternating long tastes along her outer lips with hungry probing laps inside.

His gorgeous sweet innocent stepsister wasn’t scared of him either. He thought of her, soon, using her tongue on him, but his attention quickly wandered back to his mouth on her.

He hadn’t been the boy with the horse cock, servicing an experienced woman who knew what she wanted and how to ask for it. He had been the experienced one, Candy the perfect student.

She was just learning what she wanted, and how to ask for it, though Valentine was sure there was at least one thing he wouldn’t be able to show her, as much as he’d loved to have climbed between her bare legs, torn those wet panties off and plunged into her.

He couldn’t hurt her; no matter what he had to keep her safe, even from him.

He rolled out of bed before he fell asleep again or Mom caught him with Candy juice dried on his face. Unbidden, an image appeared of his Mom in the gold sequin dress that she had been about to change out of, leaning in to kiss his cheek, hugging herself close to him.

He is more aware of her fit body against his than normal.

“Val?” Her voice sounds puzzled. “Why do you smell like pussy?”

He headed toward his bath across the hall, shaking his head. He turned on the water before rummaging through his bag for his toiletries.

He spied his new vape pen. They were the latest thing in the dorms. The cartridge held enough THC concentrate to last a month or more of occasional use, and there was none of that distinctive cloying pot smoke or breath to get sniffed out. It recharged with a USB plug and looked almost like a pen.

He drew in a few slow drags, exhaling water vapor with a slight sweetish odor. It would take the buzz a little while to kick in compared to smoking marijuana. He climbed into the shower and let the massage head pound the pulsing jets over his head and neck.

After toweling his hair dry, he wrapped himself in a thick terry robe and aimed for the kitchen. He heard music, Swing, from the media room. And voices: Mom and Aunt Mar.

“Hi, ladies. Did you have fun?”

They were dancing, a slightly drunken West Coast with Marguerite leading.

“Val!” They both began. Aunt Marguerite continued. ” …entine!”

“Dance with us.” She released one of his mother’s hands and reached out to him. He cinched his robe tight before taking each of their hands, forming a circle of three. Marguerite pulled them all together. A group hug, swaying vaguely with the music.

“My Valentine.”

His mom pulled him closer. She sounded pensive. “No, he’s my Valentine.”

“Our Valentine.” Marguerite was not ready to relinquish him completely.

Melanie shook her head. “Not tonight. He was my Valentine first, and he’s mine tonight.”

She snugged her arm deeper around his waist. He had noticed her new dress. The blue shimmer made her shiny blond hair pop, but it was the way the halter top displayed her shoulders, her neck and chest that had caught his attention. She was about the same size as Candy, but more toned, almost ripped.

She had a beautiful lean musculature to her shoulders particularly, but his eye was drawn between them, to the smooth taut skin over the sternum and plunging down between straps of her dress.

As his newly possessive mother pulled him to her hip, both of them each still holding one of Marguerite’s hands, his arm draped around her. While she almost glared at her dark-haired friend, claiming him, her son looked down at her.

Below him, past his mother’s resolute visage, his eyes wandered back to the smooth tanned skin between her aqua blue straps and the small swellings beneath them. She couldn’t be wearing a bra with that plunge in front and her nipples distorted the shimmering weave of the dress enough that they both appeared as twin silver accents on lovely matched green blue mounds.

“Okay, Mel. This dance is yours.” The brunette’s voice was low and soothing. It brought Val’s eyes up from ogling his mom. The vape pen tokes had kicked in. He’d have to remind himself to not space out on things. Especially things like his own mom’s nipples.

Marguerite released both of their hands. Val felt her palm slide to his back and gently press him forward as he saw her other hand guide his mom. The beautiful blond in her clinging shimmering dress looked up at him as their bodies were led together. She lifted her newly freed hand to place it lightly behind his neck.

The Latina maintained a light pressure on his back. Her other hand found his and led it up around his mother’s back. “That’s it. Dance with your mother tonight. A woman needs to be held sometimes. Just held and rocked slowly.”

Her heels were loud as she left them swaying together, mother and son. “I’m going to get me a drink.”

They danced slowly, though the music encouraged double time. If no one was looking, and he was dancing with Candy, he would want to be a little closer than this. But this was closer to his mom than he ever would have considered, privacy or not. Maybe it was the pot, but he was seeing more than motherly love in her eyes.

“What are you thinking sweetheart?” Her fingers stroked his nape.

“You’re beautiful, Mom. I like this dress better than the other one.”

Her smile was delighted. “You called me hot tonight. Did you mean it? Is your mom really hot?”

He couldn’t control his quick glance down toward her cleavage, now too close to see her nipples. “Yeah, Mom, really hot. Especially in this dress.”

Bouncing up on her toes the slight bit she could in her already high heels, she wrapped both arms around his neck, pressing her face to the side of his head. In the shoes, she as nearly his height. Valentine found his mouth, nose, and eyes immersed in her fine long hair.

“My little Valentine is a man now. A big strong man.” She leaned against him. He felt the slight compression of a breast against him, but the slight angle at which they’d been dancing pressed her against his hip, preventing his mother from pushing directly into her son’s prominent package. The position did cause his hand and arm to shift when she launched her arms around his neck. One hand ended lightly cupping one round cheek. He was surprised at how well the the firm globe fit his hand.

Val froze with his hand there. He thought if he did nothing it might seem accidental. Pulling his hand away was recognition that he had been touching her like that.

He inhaled a blend of aromas through her hair. Musky, spicy, sweet. He sniffed again.

“Mom, have you been drinking?”

She giggled by his ear, sending a vibration through him. “Duh.”

The click of heels returned. “Did someone say drinking?”

Marguerite had an ice filled dark drink in each hand. “Coke for the nice young man being kind to his mother. Rum and Coke for me.”

She held out a glass to him. Melanie turned toward her friend, still holding her son close. “More rum? I thought you said you’d had enough.”

“I did, didn’t I?” Successful in throwing the shorter woman off, Mel snuggled her face close to her son again.

The offered glass pulled back and the other replaced it. “Coke for me, Rum and Coke for the handsome young stud taking pity on his mom.”

“Hey!” Came a muffled voice by his ear. He pulled the objector close to his hip with one arm and accepted the spiked drink with the other. His mom didn’t let him drink alcohol often. He swallowed half if it, grimacing at the burn. Not much Coke.

“Thank you. And by the way, I am not taking pity on anyone here. I got a chance to dance with a beautiful sexy woman and I’m not missing out.” He chugged the rest of the drink and offered the ice filled glass back.

He took the soft murmur as Mel pressed herself into him, nuzzling her face deeper into his thick hair, as appreciation. Once she felt his second arm wrap low around her again she raised one hand from his neck long enough to make a vague waving motion.

Her voice was distant. “Go away now, bartender. Leave us alone. I want to dance with my wonderful Valentine.”

“Very well, Miss. If you or the young Sir require anything please use the bell. I shall retire to the spa.”

Val felt one light kiss on his neck as his mother began to sway again with the music. He moved with her, at least partly to avoid his bulge coming any nearer his mother.

Alcohol was still new to him and, mixed with the pot, his head was swimming. He tried desperately not to think of Candy, knowing what that would do to his cock and the chances of it becoming obvious.

Aunt Marguerite, drunk, going to the spa at this time in the evening probably meant she was staying the night, and usually meant she wanted him to join her in the swirling hot water, secluded from view. Probably shouldn’t think of that either, especially wearing just a robe.

“Does it feel good?”

“Hmm?” Her question brought him thankfully back from dangerous thoughts.

She wiggled her hips against his and his hand moved with her ass. “Does it feel good? In your hand.”

He realized he’d started lightly massaging her cheek when his thoughts turned to Candy’s lessons.

“Don’t stop. It feels good.” He did as he was told. It was just massaging a muscle. He had rubbed her shoulders and feet enough in the past.

Somehow she had shifted more in front of him when she’d wiggled her hips. The large knot in the thick terry cloth belt holding his robe closed pushed into his gut. He hoped it would keep their lower parts separated. As the rum soaked into his bloodstream he became less worried about it.

Her breath felt good on his neck. Both firm breasts pressed hard against his chest. His other hand had somehow found a second round cheek.

Her moist breath trailed down from his ear. He felt a light kiss on the sensitive skin there.

Then a whisper, humming against him. “Val.”

“Yes, Mom.”

“You called me sexy.”

She leaned back, arching, enough to look her son in the eye. “Am I sexy?”

His mind more addled, he wasn’t as quick when his gaze wandered downward at her question. The arch in her back pulled her upper body back away from him and upward. Their dancing had shifted the halter and he could see more of one breast where the fabric had been pushed outward. Both nipples appeared harder and more distinct pressing through the fabric.

His voice sounded hoarse, his throat constricted from his lowered head. His eyes stayed on her body. “Very, very sexy.”

“Thanks.” She looked close to crying. Then she grinned, reached up and kissed him. Not an intimate kiss, but not how he remembered her kissing in the past. It surprised him, but he thought he might have kissed her back before her lips pulled back.

“I think I like dancing drunk with my son.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck again, tucking her face back away. His hands responding using their presence on her tight bottom to pull her against him.

He felt another kiss on his neck, under the jaw. This one lingered, felt wetter. When it ended he heard. “I think you’re sexy too. I never realized what a sexy man you’ve become.”

For a few seconds, they rocked in silence. The whole length of her body contoured to his. He wasn’t sure when her midsection had found his erection, but it’s growth since they had begun to dance had been making that progressively more likely.

“Until I saw what you did to your aunt today.”

Valentine jumped. He tried to push away from his mom’s body. She clung to his neck.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, baby.” She repeated, stroking his head as he stopped struggling.

She laughed, bringing his bright red face up to look at her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to embarrass you. I didn’t mean to see.”

He shook his head. Could this day get any crazier? He thought as his mom continued trying to explain her sudden knowledge of his recent deep throating,

“Your door was open.” That made him break a smile. “My first thought is ‘who is this strange man in my house doing Mar like a cumslut?'”

Val choked. “Mom!”

“Then I noticed the hunky guy with the firehose looked like my innocent school boy son.”

“Enough! Mom, please!”

“That Mar, she do love her some big cock.”

He had to agree to that, as wistfully as a teenage year old boy can. “She makes it hard to say no.”

“The deep-throat cumslut.”

“Mom! Jesus.”

Valentine was completely distracted by the smile that lit her entire face. His mom looked so happy, so aren’t-I-clever, so…close. She was plainly rocking against his hard shaft, almost but not quite grinding against him. The tear forming in the corner of her eye quivered, catching the fractured light of the hanging crystal fixture.

Her eyes drew him in. He did feel close to her, partly because of that radiating glow she beamed at him. He was her son, and his first instinct always was to make her smile or laugh or hug him close in joy. That made everything right.

That made him a good son. “I love you, Mom.”

Her smile tightened. Her brow came together. A tear rolled down her cheek, carrying the hint of a thin grey line of make-up with it.

She tucked her head down, to hide the tear, and turned in his arms. Valentine felt her lean back against him as she guided his arms around her ribs and tight stomach. His chin cleared her shoulder with little to spare, putting his nose back in the silky musk of her hair.

“I love you too, baby. More than anything.” She kept her small hands on his, two sets of arms crossed in front of her, holding them tight together. Her first sway with the music caused the narrow crevice between her muscular small cheeks to find his now-rigid thickness. They both felt her cheeks forced apart and held that way by the constant pressure being applied.

She leaned her head back, exposing her shapely neck and a view of bare smooth tan skin from shoulder plunging down to below her breasts. One of which was now almost half exposed, the sewn fabric edge of the halter appearing to be caught on the nipple itself.

It briefly seemed like a good idea to slip his fingers under the strap near her collar bone before sliding them down, lifting the awry material and smoothing it back into place, catching a glimpse of the tantalizing nipple in the process. Instead, he whispered. “This is nice.”

Her hands pulled him in a little tighter. She turned her head back toward him, bring her cheek to his jaw and her lips near his chin.

“Nice? This is way more than nice. These are nice, but this is wonderful.”

As she said it, she brought her hands up to her own breasts. His hands, their fingers still loosely entwined, came with them. He didn’t spend much of his limited rational thought on exactly how he ended up with his hands crossed at the wrist, each cupping a sweet firm little handful of mom’s breasts, her hands now squeezing his.

One nipple was a tiny hard presence under his palm, pushing through the halter top. The other one he could feel even more clearly, as his hand had pushed the displaced fabric further aside, and her hand now held his on that bare palmful.

He marveled in what they were doing, and how her flesh resisted his fingers’ slight pressures of tentative exploration. Her erect nipple found a space between the bases of two fingers. He squeezed them together, trying to pinch it.

He grasped the perfect small cup more definitely. “This is wonderful. Not just nice.”

Her fingers stroked his, encouraging his touch. Neither was sure who was leading as their other pair of hands, the ones holding the still covered breast, slid together down her belly to press her lower body back against his.

They swayed together. The only other motion was his fingers, palm, and thumb slowly and leisurely massaging her small breast, never outright focusing on that perfect brown nipple he could see slide along his fingers and bend over slightly as it disappeared under his palm. Nonetheless, teasing them both continually.

Valentine thought of Candy. Blond silky straight hair, tall and lean, if not defined and toned like Mom. In heels she would be this tall against him. His hand pulled his mom against him at the thought of Candy in high heels, those long perfect legs stretched out and flexed, Val now painfully aware of what ended the delicious gap between the very top of those thighs.

Melanie began to rock her hips more with the music when she felt him pull her in to him, back onto the huge cylinder she could feel spreading her cheeks apart. With each sideways sway now, she let it leave the valley and slide across one round globe before letting it drop back into the snug channel and then massaging into the opposite cheek.

She was aware that dancing like this caused her skirt to gradually slide up over her thighs. She was also aware that she wore absolutely nothing under the dress. On the way to the party, a benefit blind auction followed by a banquet, she had confronted Marguerite about the cum on her chin. Her friend had confessed to having ‘hooked up’ with her son four times in the past six months, beginning with seducing him in the spa.

For some reason Melanie had withheld revealing that she has seen them cock-in-throat. Still, that memory coupled with ‘Aunt’ Mar raving about what her young ‘nephew’s’ cock did to her had Mel wet and bothered by the time they arrived at the Country Club. Rather than wear the sopping things she’d slipped off her underwear, leaving her waxed bare slit to breath under the dress.

The hem of her dress was close to exposing that decision when her son spoke.

“Mom?”

“MmHmm?”

“What are we doing?” A beautiful woman was grinding on him, driving him to want more. Once past the surprise, the forbidden nature of the woman was strangely attractive. As Valentine began to sober from the initial onslaught of alcohol and drunken dancing, he started to doubt. To feel guilty.

“Mom. I think we should stop.”

She kept moving. Her voice was distant, underwater or in a dream. “Yeah, we should.”

“No, Mom, really. Is this right?”

She groaned as she pushed back on his bulge. “It feels right.”

He blurted out what was bothering him before he had time to consider the implications.

“I think there’s someone else.”

She turned to face him, looking chagrinned but puzzled. Her cheeks were bright red as she looked at him, the single wavy grey line still faintly streaking one cheek. “Aunt Mar?”

He shook his head. “No.”

He didn’t want to explain further and reveal what had happened with his stepsister today.

Her face adopted the stern mother look, incongruous with one bare nipple still exposed, newly freed from her son’s teasing fingers.

“Were you cheating on the poor girl with Mar today?”

“What? No! I didn’t know then.” He stopped himself there.

“You didn’t know then? Today? Who have you seen since…oh, no. Tell me it’s not Candace.”

——

From the small front window of her room, in the west wing of the house, Candy saw the taxi exited by the two well-dressed, laughing women. She watched the two – one in gold, the other in an aqua blue shimmer that she remembered Mom looking striking in before – walk to the front door, arms around each other’s waist. Candy studied the curvy woman in gold more closely than she ever had, trying to picture Aunt Mar doing those things with her Valentine, at the same time her stomach clenched with jealousy at the thought of another touching him.

Her deductive mind switched into gear. If they arrived in a taxi, they’d been drinking. If Aunt Mar was here and had been drinking, she’d stay the night. If she stayed the night, she’d want more of Val.

Valentine had not said no to Candy’s request to watch and her desire for knowledge was overriding the jealous pangs. The tension once again rising in the insatiable spring winding in her core made the pangs of green envy pale.

Wearing just a nightshirt, actually a large t-shirt her stepbrother had left when he packed for school, she padded barefoot to her study. Her ‘room’ was comprised of the bedroom proper, with only the small barred window to the front, and the adjoining study, which had been her playroom as a child. The larger window there looked over a small garden area complete with a sundial, separated from the pool and spa by a high hedge.

The view inspired her and she acted. Candy knew she couldn’t hover by Val’s door, waiting for a possible sighting. He had been waking up when she left, and she assumed he would spend some time with the ladies.

Aunt Marguerite’s home away from home was the spa. More so when she was drinking. Now that she thought of it, Candy could recall her flashing big dark eyes at Val his last visit asking if he’d like to join her and massage her shoulders. It could happen that way tonight. Mom was oblivious and would probably head to bed early.

Candy slipped out the small door to the garden, scampered across the grass. It had been years since she’d been in the pool house. Mom and Mar used it, and guests sometimes slept there. For Candy, it had always been an adult place, and it was so much easier to just change in her own suite.

The spa was built with lattice, now grown thickly with large-leaved greenery, around it for privacy from the house and the pool. The pool house wall provided privacy for the fourth side. The only way to see what went on in the spa from outside it was if someone happened to be in the pool-house and held open the curtain of the small window high above the small futon couch. To do so, they’d have to stand on the futon. The only other window in the small structure was set beside the door, looking toward the pool.

If anything happened in the spa tonight, or the pool, Candy wanted to see. She looked around inside the small structure. It wasn’t bright, but the illumination from the solar lights around the pool was enough to see by.

The futon, which she remembered folded up as a couch unless guests were here, was spread out as a bed. It had been arranged with plenty of pillows and a plush, almost furry blanket. It made an inviting nest. A small fridge and a basic bar set up had not been here when she was a kid, she was sure.

Candy climbed onto the thick blanket. It was soft in her fingers, and along her legs. She was sure she’d hear anything outside. The fur covering felt so sensuous, so primal, she let her legs and arms move as they pleased, rubbing through it, swimming in it, reveling in the sensations all a over her skin. Valentine’s t-shirt rode up on her legs as she felt the plush hairs tickling between her legs and cheeks.

A swimming arm slid under the pillows and bumped something solid. Candy’s finger wrapped around the thick flexible shaft as she pulled it into view. Before she saw it, she knew what had been hidden here.

It was big. Flesh colored rubber shaped like a penis, maybe as long but not as thick as what she had seen on her sleeping brother. Before his started to grow.

She held it in front of her face with both hands. She could feel the slight wobble of the end beyond her fingers. This was much bigger, but the exact shape she had searched her room for, before finding a hairbrush and the toothbrush with the magic button.

Tomorrow Valentine would give her her next lesson. He said to use her tongue on him where he did on her. She would touch his strong chest, feel his muscles before she put her lips on his nipple. She wondered if it would get hard like hers, and if it could passingly be as sensitive.

She would love to give him as much helpless pleasure as his lips and tongue had given her.

Then she would move to the second area. She saw again his cock stretched along his belly, his cum dried with their aunt’s saliva on him. She remembered that juncture of tender wrinkled skin that had so fascinated her, where the shaft, the head, and the seams running down the exposed bellies of both all came together.

Candy looked for the spot on her rubber substitute. It was a disappointing smooth divot. On her back, looking up, she lowered the large bulbous end toward her mouth.

“Is this where you want my tongue, Valentine?”

She ran the moist flat of it along the underside of the head. It tasted rubbery and her tongue felt dry. The second lick was slipperier, her tongue sliding over her own spit.

She moved her attention down to the unwrinkled junction. Pressing the soft center over the area before working the tip into the little hollow. She placed her lips around the spot and sucked.

“Oh. You like that, big brother.” She wiggled the large dildo above her face. “Show me what you like. What you want me to do.”

The recessed spot she’d just sucked pressed down on her parted lips. “Mmmm.”

Her tongue reached out in time to feel the head drag down across her lips, pulling the lower one open toward her chin. The bulb seemed to drag interminably by before the tip reached her mouth.

Her small hands held it there, almost surprising herself. She’d thought so often recently about a cock pushing into her mouth, her efforts to open and receive it. Instead she lifted her head, straining up to taste it, lick it, suck what fit between her lips.

If her back was flat on the futon, it stayed out of reach, grazing her lips. She was forced to tighten her core, squeezing down on the tensing spring, to bring her mouth to him.

Her tongue and lips moistened the entire surface of the fleshy bulb, her legs bracing wide open as she levered her mouth upwards to reach the encircling ridge that pronounced the end of the beginning. She slid one hand down until it gripped the rubber shaft hard against that ridge.

Her firm squeeze there stopped all wobble of the flexible rubber head. It seemed to swell under the pressure. Her mouth was open just below it, panting. With each breath, her small breasts pushed twin mounds up through the cotton shirt, it’s lower hem now bunched around her waist.

“You like that? Your cock feels so hard now, Val. What do you want?”

The slippery head pushed her lips apart and continued into her mouth. Candy gagged at the intrusion before the entire head was past her lips. It pulled back and she drew a wet breath. She laughed at herself.

“Go easy on me, please Valentine. You’re so big.” She tried not to think that the real Val, her Valentine, was bigger then this when erect.

The head pushed again at her lips and she opened her jaw wide. She breathed through her nose, trying to relax. The ridge slipped past her stretched lips and she let them close around the slightly thinner shaft.

In her mind, she heard his voice. Her new tutor, continuing their lesson. “That’s it. Good girl. Hold it in there. You can move your tongue if you want.”

She almost felt his hand stroking the hair by her temple. Her tongue found it had room to move, exploring his sensitive underside in the small amount of space her wide open jaw allowed.

“Fuck, yes.” Her lips felt a small amount of the thick shaft slide past, pushing the bulb deeper. Candy felt a gag coming on but suppressed it, intent on the discovery that the tip of her tongue had again found that fascinating junction.

When the fat cockhead pulled back she felt empty. Her jaw ached, her eyes watered, and she wasn’t quite sure how she’d avoided throwing up, but she felt empty. She wanted Valentine inside her. The real Valentine, and not just in her mouth.

Candy brought the dildo down between her open thighs. The slippery head met the wetness of her arousal. The spongy tip, guided by her fingers, separated moist swollen lips. It felt huge.

“I want you inside me so bad.” She raised her hips, sliding the tip down her slit, spreading her fluids while further opening her. She pushed against the intruder.

She gave up with less than half the head inside, the girth increasing faster than her ability to accommodate it. As soon as she relaxed, slumping back onto the futon mattress, he rebelling vaginal entrance squeezed the blunt invader back out. The slick head settled at the very base of her slit.

She let it go, nestled there, thick against her very bottom. In frustration, her hands came together on her wetness, tormented and overtaxed. One hand formed an out stretching ‘V’ while the fingers of the other began frenzied circles.

“Dammit, Valentine! I want to fuck you so bad!” The V pulled upward, exposing her as the circles narrowed over the vulnerable tender spot. The tightening in her belly was acute, her firm thighs started to shake. Saying her desire out loud like that brought a continuity to what her body felt and her heart and mind desired most.

An electric motor kicked in, pumping, as the still waters of the spa surged to life. Candy almost screamed. She had been so close. In the semi-dark she gathered her feet under her, standing up on the mattress. A heavy rubber cylinder rested against one foot, wet on the fatter end. She peaked through the small gap in the curtain. The spa was running but she couldn’t see anyone.

The young girl raised up on her toes, to see if they were right below her, though she should already be able to see legs.

The pool-house door behind her opened.

“Watcha lookin’ at, Candace?”

The voice was a low self-satisfied purr.

“Oh, uh. Hi, Aunt Mar.” Candy turned, still standing on the bed. “I. I was napping. I was just checking who, you know, when the pump came on.”

Marguerite closed the door. She raised a hand palm out as Candy started to lower herself to the floor. “Stay there.”

The young blond stood where she was, flustered, towering over the shorter brunette. Marguerite’s face was level with her belly, the hem of Valentine’s shirt not much lower.

The out-reached hand which had stopped her now took hold of hers. Aunt Mar was wearing a skimpy white bikini, hiding nothing of her curves.

“Sweet Candace. You were napping out here? I’m so sorry I woke you.”

Even in this light, she could see a glitter in the woman’s big brown eyes. Eyes which slowly looked down from the girl’s face, traveling the length of her long bare legs, then pausing at her feet on the futon.

Marguerite reached down with her free hand and retrieved the dildo. It wagged obscenely in her hand, the wobbling head wetly catching the solar lights through the widow.

“Is this the pillow you were using?”

Candy froze as the thick bulbous head was brought out toward her, rested against the inside of her bare knee. She gripped her Aunt’s hand harder but otherwise stayed completely still as the slick head slid up the inside of her thigh.

It continued up until the other thigh closed in, wedging it between them. She whimpered, almost to herself, her grip tightened.

The head slipped from between her thighs, trailing up their front, dragging the shirt hem with it as it continued tracing the upward channel. She was completely exposed as the rubber cock stopped, holding the shirt up with it. After a long stare directly at the girl’s private parts, Aunt Mar looked up at her face.