Author's Note: This is a mainstream revision of my incest story, Good Girl. I've rewritten it so that people who don't like incest can enjoy this story.
***
The delicious aroma of onion and garlic simmering away in butter filled my nostrils as soon as I opened the door to my apartment. I smiled to myself. I loved it when Lizzy came over unannounced.
"Hey, Babe," I called, as I disgorged the contents of my pockets on the side table.
"Will!" Lizzy beamed, skipping around the corner from the kitchen and throwing her arms around me.
She pressed her body hard up against mine and buried her head in my chest. I closed my arms around her, feeling her slender frame, and enjoying the delicate contours of her back through her blue spaghetti strap singlet. I kissed the top of her head, and inhaled the tropical scent of her shampoo - coconut and something sweet I couldn't identify.
She craned up to face me, the strands of dirty blonde hair that had escaped her ponytail falling off the sides of her black-framed glasses. I swallowed her smile in a soft kiss on her lips. "I wasn't expecting you until Friday night." I couldn't hide the delight from my tone.
"Yeah, I know. I just wanted to see you. You don't mind, do you?" Her lips curled in a cute, little pout.
"Of course not," I replied, brushing a wayward strand from her forehead.
"You don't regret giving me a key?" Her blue eyes hopefully crested the rim of her glasses.
"No way," I breathed, bending down to rub her nose with mine.
Lizzy hummed a positive response, and turned back to the kitchen. I let my eyes fall to her ass as she padded away across the timber floor. Below that powder blue singlet, her seductive curves were clad in nothing but a tiny pair of white cotton panties.
I exhaled deeply, savouring the vision.
"So what are you cooking?" I asked as I rounded the other side of the kitchen bench.
"Just a bolognaise. Nothing fancy." Lizzy shot me a sweet smile over her shoulder, then returned her attention to the pot on the stove.
"Smells good," I encouraged. I lingered a moment, enjoying the view, then announced, "I'll just get changed quickly."
"No rush," she said, reaching for another ingredient to add to her concoction. "It's still got to simmer another half hour or so. I haven't put the pasta on yet."
Leaving her to it, I slipped into my bedroom and hung my coat up in the wardrobe, followed by my red and white striped tie and my belt. It had been a hell of a day, and I didn't feel like another one-legged flamingo dance to get my shoes off. I scuffed over to my bed and sat down. As I did, something hard dug painfully into my left buttock.
"What the..." I complained to myself, scooting towards the foot of the bed and flicking back the embroidered cream doona.
A deep pink vibrator lay on the white sheet, it's metallic inlay glinting in the overhead light. I immediately recognised it as the Soraya I had bought Lizzy for Valentine's Day. There was no mistaking the thumbs-up I got from the clitoral stimulator. We were old friends, forever bonded from that first awkward moment in the adult shop, where the intrusively helpful sales assistant had shoved me in front of the LELO display and not let me leave without one.
Credit where credit's due, however, he was right on the money.
I petted the wrinkled sheet around the toy. It was still damp. Holding my fingers to my nose, I could smell the strong earthy scent of Lizzy's pussy. I picked up the Soraya and sniffed at it, detecting the same heady aroma.
"Lizzy?" I called, cradling the vibrator in my lap.
I heard the sound of a wooden spoon being laid on the porcelain spoon-rest by the stove, then saw Lizzy appear in the doorway a few seconds later. She stood by the door, biting her bottom lip. Her tight singlet clung to her body, her nipples jutting out from atop her perky breasts. Unfortunately her wringing hands disrupted the view of her white cotton panties.
I sat there looking at her. The muffled sound of the television in the next room wafted through the door, but couldn't mask the sound of her breathing. I held up the LELO. "What's this?" I said evenly.
She blushed deeply and dipped her gaze, not answering me. Her breath was ragged, and I had to fight to control my own. My heart pounded with anticipation, but I held my ground, held the silence. It was a game. Whoever spoke first: lost.
"I'm sorry, Will," she whispered.
I fought the Cheshire grin with every fibre of my being. Then in my best patronising tone, "Sorry for what, Lizzy?"
"I'm sorry I used the toy you bought me," she rasped. "I know I'm not allowed to use it without you. But I promise," She looked up hopefully for a second. "I didn't come."
"Hmm," I pondered with a tilt of my head. Turning away, I patted the enormous wet spot on the sheet. I heard Lizzy gasp as I did. When I turned back, she was again staring at the floor, her cheeks deeply flushed.
When she did finally look up, I patted my lap. She didn't answer me. Instead she scuffed at the polished floorboards with her bare toe and did whatever she could not to make eye contact.
"But, Will..."
"Lizzy, that's enough," I said softly. "You know you've been a naughty girl." My tone became more serious. "Naughty girls need to be punished."
Lizzy closed her eyes, her mouth falling open with a loud sigh. The thick strand of hair that fell down her face swayed in her breath. Tentatively, she crept forward towards me, still wringing her hands. When she reached me, she put one knee up on the bed beside me and began to bend over me.
