Unconditional Love

I had just started dating Erin when her dad was getting re-married. I was her guest at the wedding, and I could tell straightaway that this was going to be an experience. Maybe not good maybe not bad, but it was going to be an experience. You see, I would have the distinct misfortune of having to get to know everyone in both of these families at the same time I was supposed to be Mr. Romantic at this wedding. So I would simultaneously have to entertain Erin, while getting to know her entire family, her entire New family, and not knowing either the bride or the groom. Joy of joys, this was to be my first real test as the new boyfriend.

Now, I can't paint myself a picture of ineptitude, I did at least know enough to stick close to Erin at all times, and I had the obvious advantage of having met her father the night before. My conversation with her father was long, boring, and more than a little threatening. He made it very clear that Erin was not someone he would tolerate trifling with, and that he still very much valued her presence at family functions, so I was a little bit intimidated to begin things.

Bless her, she knew just how to settle me down.

The night before the wedding, the two of us were staying at her dad's house, and I couldn't sleep a wink. It was decreed at the outset that she would be staying upstairs, and I would be staying in the basement, but that hardly stopped two creative lovers such as ourselves.

When I heard footfalls at 2 AM, squeaking the floorboards on the stairs, I knew just what to expect. It would be Erin, coming for a late night tryst to calm our nerves. I heard those feet thump-thumping down the stairs for what seemed like an eternity, until I heard the door knob turn and the door open.

"Psssst...Are you awake?"

Now this was strange, this was a voice I didn't recognize. I was certain it would be Erin, but even in hushed tones I could tell that this was someone else entirely.

"Hello?"

"I thought I heard something in the garage. I was wondering if it was you," a feminine voice, albeit a whisper, came from the doorway.

"Where's Erin? I know it's late, but I thought you were her."

"Well, I'm not, I think she fell asleep two or three hours ago."

I could smell something strange coming from that doorway too, and every time she spoke, the smell wafted past my nose. It was a sweet smell, but pungent too, something I recognized, but couldn't put my finger on.

"Wanna get some fresh air?" she asked me, finally, and I wasn't sure what to say.

"I guess so, but what the fuck is that smell? I can't figure it out, and it's driving me nuts."

"Come on out through the garage, we'll figure it out."

I followed her, as I was told, as she walked through the garage door and flicked on the light. I could see she was wearing clothes from a night out at the club, and she walked like she was three sheets to the wind. As she stumbled to the front of the garage, she reached up and opened the overhead door, which was a clear strain for her, as she was only five feet tall, and drunk as fuck.

"Help me, would you for Christ's sake?"

"Oh sorry about that, hold on."

I came around the front of her and grabbed the older looking handle she was using to open the large faux wood door. As I lifted upwards, I felt something awful happen in my back and I doubled over to make the pain stop.

"Fuck fuck fuck that hurts."

"What's wrong with you? I thought we were getting this door open."

"Gimme a minute, I think I hurt something in my back"

I managed to extend my back enough to get the door up, and then I walked out into the cold, dewy night to breathe a little easier. I took a deep breath and then decided to get to the bottom of things.

"So who are you anyway?" I finally got around to asking.

"I'm Becca, the one Erin apparently didn't tell you about."

"Oh oh, right, the sister. I'm sorry, it's nice to meet you, I'm Bastian, Erin's boyfriend."

Had I known what was about to take place, I don't think I would have stopped it, even knowing how far Erin and I have come as a couple. I trust her implicitly, as she does I, and I wish to death I had another solution to the conundrum that this young woman became, but I'm a man after all, and there was no stopping the feeling I got.

"Bastian? That is the weirdest name I've ever heard. Is it foreign or something?" she said in typical American fashion. If it's different, it must be 'foreign." Americans have a strange sense of humor.

"Oh, yeah, it's German, but my parents aren't actually from Germany, I'm originally English."

"Wow, we'll see how you get along in this all French-Canadian family, they don't take kindly to strangers."

I could see she was joking, but I was hardly in a laughing mood, my back hurt like hell, and I still couldn't figure out that fucking smell. I was ready to write this young woman off when she surprised me a little.

"Do you want some?" she offered me a puff of what I assumed was a fag, but the smell finally made sense to me as I sized her up.

"Oh, I don't know, I haven't touched the stuff in months, it'll probably make me sick."

"That'd be the first time I ever saw someone get sick from smoking weed," she was right, I would have to come up with better than that. And besides, I loved the stuff; I could hardly ignore the opportunity to soothe my nerves at this point.

I grabbed what I now saw was a fairly spent roach, and cursed my luck that she hadn't gotten me earlier. Upon lighting it, I realized there was no chance of a cherry there, and handed it back to her.

"It's spent. Fuck, that really would've hit the spot right about now."

"Here, try this then," she offered me something more substantial, and I was all too happy to light up the blunt in my hands.

I was puffing away happily for the next two or three minutes, as we sat and looked at stars. It was tough to see anything for the artificial light all around us, but we made do with the brightest of constellations, until she finally brought up Erin.

"So, how long have you known my sister?"

"Seems like forever, but in reality, it's more like eight or nine months. We only started dating maybe two weeks ago, we were just friends before that."

"And she hasn't told you one thing about me?" she sounded a little hurt with this.

"Oh no, she did, I just didn't have a face to match the stories."

"Gotcha, well as you probably figured out, Sherlock, or whatever your name is, I'm a little gone right now, so carry me inside, because I think I'm gonna be sick."

"You're kidding right, I mean, it's 2 AM, and I'm high as hell."

"No sir, I am not kidding, and hurry the fuck up, because puke doesn't wait for snotty Englishmen."

Sure enough, it didn't wait, but thankfully, neither did I. By the time we made it into the bathroom, she probably still had a ten or twelve count before the waterworks began. I found it to be a touching moment, as this was the exact same kind of event that first drew Erin and I together, but that's another story for another time.

After holding her hair back for three or four volleys and constantly flushing the toilet so as not to arouse suspicion with her father and step-mother, Becca decided that I was released from my duty, and could go about my business.

It was clear to me that she was new at this drinking thing, and that this was just a rookie mistake on her part. What with her not even being legally old enough to drink, I figured this was probably as safe a bet as any.

"What did you drink anyway?"

"Oh we had some Aftershock at the party and my friends and I decided to snack on the crystals a little bit. I know my friends didn't realize how strong they were, they're probably worse than me."

I had to admit, she was pretty together mentally for someone who just spent the last ten minutes spilling their guts.

"Don't you guys have another sister?"

"Yeah, but she won't be around 'till tomorrow at the earliest, but don't worry, she's not nearly as fun as me."

"This is not my idea of fun, although I do have to thank you for the weed, I was starting to bug out a little."

"Don't mention it, but I wasn't talking about drinking and puking when I said fun. I was just talking about being up at 2. How many other people in this family are around to help you to sleep at 2 AM?" she said it in a tone I had only heard Erin use with me, and it made me very curious.

I finally took a moment to notice what she had been wearing during this whole travail, and as I said before, the whole outfit just screamed 'club.'

She was wearing a black top with all kinds of crazy straps on the back, and it hugged her midsection very nicely, I had to admit. That, and a pair of pants that I couldn't imagine her squeezing herself into, they were also black with a zipper right up the crack of her ass. I can't lie, I just love that look when Erin and I go out, and I oftentimes get myself hit for staring too long, but I had a feeling there would be no such punishment this time.

"So...how did you get home?"

"Oh, my friend James took me home, luckily for me he wasn't drinking yet."

"Your friend?" I asked in what I thought was my least 'sleazy guy' sounding tone.

"Yes, my friend, and I'm not sure I get what you're going for."

"Well, I just figured, it's Saturday night, don't young women generally go out with their boyfriends on Saturday night during the summer?" I was apparently doing a poor job pulling off this 'not sleazy' act.

"They do, yeah, but when we don't have one, that makes it tougher."

I decided on the spot that I liked her, she was caustic, biting, apparently fun loving, and fine as hell, where could a guy go wrong?

"Did you burn out that blunt yet? I feel real funny."

I had not, and decided that it was probably a good idea to settle her stomach down a little bit. I handed it over in her direction, and she made a pouty little look of tired gratitude. I had a conscious thought that I would love to see that look more often, and got a surprising charge out of the image passing through my head.

"Stop staring, you're making me sick again."

"Yes, I'm sure that's just what's causing it," if she can bite, I can bite back. Nevertheless, I was officially so sleepy I couldn't stand it, so I told her I was going to pack it in.

"Don't wait up."

"Nice to meet you too."

The flirtatious banter was probably a little too much, but I was having such fun, it felt like sport. I crept inside the garage as quietly as possible and left her to her business. I came around the bend and saw the fridge standing open in the downstairs kitchen, adjacent to my bedroom. I went over to shut the door, and heard some scuffling outside. I passed back through the garage and saw Becca, lying face down on the ground.

"What the hell happened? Are you okay?" all lecherous thoughts from a moment before were gone, and I was considerably more cogent now.

"I'm okay, I think my lip is bleeding. I just slipped." Fair enough, she would require a little bandaging judging by her face, but she was no worse for wear.

"I'll get some peroxide, stay put would ya?"

"Can do, but I need to lay down, my head is spinning."

I came over and hoisted her up somewhat jokingly, and slung her over my shoulder like she was a sack of potatoes. We trotted inside, and I plopped her down on the futon in my room. About two million and one bad ideas popped into my head based on her compromising position, but I did my best to sweep those aside and tend to her face.

I left to get the peroxide, which I guessed was in the medicine cabinet (see, I am Sherlock), and came back into the room to discover Becca half asleep and babbling.

"Hold on, hold on, I need to get my coat," to what coat she was referring was anyone's guess, and I was certain she wasn't going to explain.

"Just hold on, I'll get you fixed up," I said as I dabbed some peroxide on her lip and cheek.

Suddenly, she jerked up and grabbed the collar of my shirt, she pulled me far too close for comfort and told me that she wanted to see James right away.

"I can't believe he just left me here like this, what if I was really, really sick?"

"Frankly, you are really, really sick, and I think you should get some rest."

And then the moment I had already pictured about a hundred times in my head, she started to slip off her shoes and made like she was going to take off those tight, black pants.

"Could you turn around for a minute? I really need to take these off."

Damn, a thousand times damn. There couldn't have been a worse way for this to play out. I held my breath and did as I was told. Becca lifted her butt up in the air and started to wiggle her hips in an attempt to shimmy out of her pants.

"Ah, fuck it, could you just lend me a hand?"

Again, doing as I was told, I turned around, grabbed her hips and pulled the second skin right off her thighs and then down her calves. I actually got a considerable hard-on just doing this.

"I would love to just crash here, but I should head upstairs so no one thinks anything. Can you carry my stuff?"

This was truly the last straw for me, and I had to do something about it immediately. There was some conscious thought in my head when I did what I did, but more of it was carnal than anything else. I knew she had been purposely teasing me for the last ten or fifteen minutes, but it was me who finally made the first move.

Rather than just grabbing her stuff and helping her up, I took a closer look at her underwear as I reached over to lift her. She was wearing a shimmery thong that had a butterfly covering her vagina, and it was about the most appetizing thing I had seen in some time.

I toyed with the notion of just pushing that little butterfly aside and diving right in, and, to my credit, nearly thought better of it when she returned my gaze more than a little knowingly.

"Isn't it cute? I just bought these two days ago, just for the club tonight."

"Fuck you," I thought, "you know just what you're doing to me."

"I guess they are nice aren't they? But up you go, let's get you to bed."

I touched her and then stopped myself, I had to do this, something was telling me this was right (it was probably my hugely engorged penis, but that's neither here nor there). I slid her butterfly to the side and stared at a perfectly shaven and positively gorgeous looking vagina.

She squirmed a little when I touched her, but she was not willing to try and get away, it was clear what she had on her mind. I slid her thong all the way down to her ankles and buried my face in her perfumed pussy.

It may sound strange, but to this day, I can swear that she uses something to make it smell incredible, and I had never imagined that at the time; I was so turned on by it, I started doing things with my mouth and tongue that I had never dreamt of before.

I swirled her clit with my tongue and I buried it in her vagina until my jaw started to hurt, and then I did it some more. I sucked on her hood and toyed with her lips to her great delight. She literally rolled back and forth on the floor showing me exactly where she liked this treatment best.

I continued for some time and when her body became simply wracked with an intense orgasm, I finally decided to come up for air.

"Where the fuck did you learn to DO that? I love it."

Wiping the drool and juices from my face, I was hardly in a state to comment, so she took the prolonged silence as her key. She laid me on my back and unzipped my pants to reveal a straining cock that was not to be contained any more. Once her tongue touched the tip of my dick, I literally gasped at the relief I now felt. She was clearly only getting started, and already I felt such a sense of release, I thought I might cum right then and there. Being the pillar of self-restraint that I was, I held fast and waited for her to really get going. I certainly appreciated the effort she put in.

I gazed down at her intently as she began to consume my cock from tip to hilt; she was extremely talented. I was getting eager as could be by the time she started licking my balls, and I stood on my knees and flipped her onto her back.

"Wait, wait, do you have anything?"

I didn't, and I didn't care, but she would have none of it.

"Get that thing the fuck away from me if you aren't wrapping it. There's no way my sister's boyfriend is getting me pregnant."

I thought about a long, pleading diatribe about how low the odds of that happening actually were, but instead, I had a much better idea. I hopped up, went into the kitchen, and opened the fridge I had seen before. I grabbed whatever I could find from the fridge and searched the cabinets for what I needed, but came up little in the way of options. Again cursing my luck, I grabbed a stick of butter and hoped for the best.

"What the fuck are you gonna do with that?"

"Something I've wanted to do all night."

I flipped her onto her back and pried her ass cheeks apart to peer at the little bud lying between them. She squealed a little as a form of protest, but I could not hear that now. I grabbed the stick of butter and began to grease her asshole to get it ready for me. I poked a finger in after a minute or two, and was certain I heard her protesting again, but I paid her no mind, mostly because she didn't try to get away, and she wasn't voicing her displeasure very loudly either.

After one finger it was two and I reached those fingers further and further into her ass in my most honest attempt to get her ready.

"Hold on, I've never done this before, please be gentle."

Now, that I could probably do, but with the single-mindedness I rarely showed anyone, I continued to plow away at the little hole to get it geared up.

Finally, I felt she was ready to take on my cock, and she sensed that that was what I was thinking. She grabbed the butter herself and passed it between her cheeks for another second before I was on top of her. I pressed the head of my cock against her resistant asshole for a second or two and then plunged in. I could see her bury her head in her pants and try not to scream, and felt like I should back off. Quickly, she turned her head almost all the way around and screamed at me, "don't fucking stop now, get that dick in there."

I could hardly believe what she was telling me to do, but who was I to argue? I pushed forward again, and another yelp of what I thought was pain was heard. She continued to make little noises as I began to thrust just a little quicker with each stroke.

Becca turned her head around again, and I realized that I had misread her expressions in a big way. Her mouth was a perfectly formed "O" and I could feel her pussy start to tighten up underneath her. I continued plowing away at her, and picking up speed and force, only to listen to her yelping turn into moaning, and moaning then giving way to sounds of pure joy. I had never heard of someone enjoy anal sex this much, and to witness it was the biggest turn-on of my life.

Finally, she spun around again and shouted, "fuck, don't stop, fuck that ass harder, I'm gonna cum!"

I started to tear into her with real force, and she welcomed that effort and more, until she finally tensed up so much I couldn't bear it any more; I had to come, right then and there.

"Cum in my asshole, you fuck! I wanna feel that cum in my asshole, please."

I needed no more cue than that, and I let fly with four or five thick streams of cum, right inside her ass. As I did, she started gasping, and I could feel every muscle in her body tense up so tight it actually hurt my dick to be inside her. She started spasming and fell flat on her stomach as she was finally spent.

Afterward, we spoke very little as she tried to stand, but just couldn't manage. I sat her up, put her clothes on her as best I could and carried her to the couch that sat across the partition from the kitchen area. I laid her on the couch, making sure to clean up any fluids that might have found their way onto her clothes, and shut off the light, while wishing her a good sleep. I was sure this wouldn't be the last time we met like this, and let me tell you, no prospect could have made me more excited.