Little Sister

I walked into the laundry and there she was, bent over the drier taking some things out. She was wearing one of those micro-mini skirts she favours and a tiny pair of pink lacy panties, and the way she was bent over there was more panties on display than mini-skirt, and there wasn't much panties to show.

I looked at those long legs of hers, running smoothly up to where the panties held them together, and my mind was running wild. What would happen if I just walked up behind her and ran my hand up those sexy legs until it cupped that fine pussy straining against those panties?

The temptation to find out was high, but other temptations came crowding in. What would be the result of gently tugging on those sexy panties? Would they slide all the way down those smooth legs or would I have to help them?

If her panties did slide down, what would be the result of my placing my hand over that pussy and squeezing? What would be the easiest way to check if she was wearing a bra? Should I slide my hands up under the front of her t-shirt where it sagged forward? If she was wearing a bra, what would she do if I undid it?

The woman was a walking, breathing piece of temptation, but if I yielded to temptation, would she yield to me?

If my wife hadn't been in the next room, then my wife's little sister may have got a nasty shock right at this moment. Or a pleasant surprise. Who knows which? Instead, I beat a hasty retreat from that delectable sight. Maureen would probably have a few words to say to me if she caught me eyeing little sister, Christy.

Mind you, I can't complain about Maureen's looks or sexiness. She was only a couple of years older than Christy, and I still found her as exciting as ever and we had a healthy sex life. But healthy sex life or not, that doesn't mean I'm blind to temptation.

Maureen and I had been married for several years now and things were going smoothly. We both had good jobs and had managed to save up a good deposit on our house, which we now owned jointly with the bank.

Two months ago, Maureen's parents departed on a cruise and they were going to be gone for three months. However, they didn't want Christy to be alone in the house for that period of time and so Maureen came to their rescue. Christy would stay with us for the duration of the cruise.

I wasn't exactly consulted on this offer, but I had no real objection. I've know Christy for as long as I've known Maureen and I've always got on well with her. What I hadn't bargained on was just how grown up she was now and just how incredibly sexy she was.

Maureen and Christy were both natural blondes. They call themselves ash blonde, whatever that means. As far as I'm concerned, blonde is blonde. Actually the only real difference between the sisters was a couple of years. Describe one as blonde, sexy, vivacious, intelligent and enchanting and you've also described the other.

Come to think of it, there is one other difference between them and that's their taste in clothing. I had never really considered Maureen's clothes to be modest, and heads turn when she walks past. Christy's clothes, however, are a little more extreme, with the result that heads don't turn so much as swivel rapidly. I'm sure some men have come down with whiplash, heads have snapped around so fast to watch her.

And that piece of mobile temptation is wandering around my house every day, dressed in clothes that came in two styles. Scanty and scantier. This is not to say she is immodest. In the two months that she's been here I haven't met her wandering around the house in her underwear, whereas Maureen does that as a matter of course. Not that I'd object if Christy followed her example. Far be it for me to try to stifle her natural instincts.

Anyway, I only had another month to sweat out. And sweat it out I did, right up to the weekend before the old folk got back from their cruise.

It was a Saturday, and Maureen had some things she had to do and she was gone for a few hours. Anyway, the same scenario that I described at the start of this story, or damned similar to it.

I walked into the laundry and there she was, bent over the drier taking some things out. She was wearing one of those micro-mini skirts she favours, and a tiny pair of lacy panties (pale green this time, and I'll swear semi-transparent), and the way she was bent over there was more panties on display than mini-skirt, and there wasn't much panties to show.

I probably would have backed out again but something suddenly occurred to me. I'd been in the kitchen for about ten minutes, which meant that as Christy hadn't passed through the kitchen, and I hadn't heard the back door open, then Christy must have been bent over that drier for at least that ten minutes, as I would have heard the drier if it was on.

Ten minutes bent over the drier, flashing her panties to the world? Somehow I thought not. So what do you do when you're not certain? You take steps to find out of course.

I stepped up behind Christy, and there's no way in hell she didn't hear me coming. I just reached up and pulled those pale green panties slowly down. Once they were free of her bottom I let them go, and sure enough they slithered down her legs. I'd been fairly sure that her legs were clean shaven and smooth.

So now Christy is bent over the drier, not moving and not saying anything. I didn't have anything I wanted to say either, so I also stayed quiet, letting my hands do the talking.

I ran my hands over her bottom and then down to cup her mound. A freshly shaved mound. I could tell from the absolute smoothness of it. I could feel heat coming from her as I squeezed and gently rubbed her mound, feeling the smoothness, the little crannies that were inviting my fingers to slip inside.

I released Christy, hearing a little gasp from her. Disappointment, I wondered? Now I reached around and along her tummy, seeking the globes that were there. I encountered no bra, and my hands closed around Christy's breasts, hearing another little gasp. Satisfaction this time, I thought.

I spent some time massaging her breasts, feeling them swell in my hands, feeling the nipples becoming prominent. A slight pinch on her nipples brought another breathy little gasp.

Leaving one hand to amuse her breasts I brought the other one back to the main attraction. However, before closing on her pussy again I unzipped my trousers, making as much noise as I could so that Christy would be fully aware of what was going on. Taking out my erection I leaned forward slightly while I reached for her pussy.

Now my erection was lying against her bottom, resting comfortably between her cheeks, while my hand was exploring her pussy. My hand moved slowly back and forth, agitating her, building excitement within her. Moisture was beading on her lips, and her lips were flowering, enticing me to enter.

My fingers slid deeper into her, tantalising touches into her vagina, and then moving around, seeking her clitoris. Finding it I flicked it lightly, finally getting a reaction that wasn't just a gasp and silent permission. Christy squeaked, pushing herself towards me, now in a state of wanting and willing to let me know it.

I knew when it's time to accept an invitation. A slight adjustment to the position of my erection and it was pressing firmly against Christy's slit where my fingers lingered. Easing my fingers apart, I slipped between them, hearing Christy's faint gasp of satisfaction. I wondered if she'd still be pleased with me in a few moments.

I moved into Christy slowly, and I mean very slowly, taking my time and barely edging my way into her. I was holding her hips firmly so that when she tried to press against me to take me in faster she found herself unable to do so. I could feel her twitching against my cock as she tried to hurry me along. I just continued inching my way in. Actually, the speed I was moving makes inching sound a lot faster than it was.

After a minute had passed and I still wasn't in, Christy broke.

"Oh, god, you bastard, stop it. Put the damn thing in," she pleaded, her excitement racing and wanting to be assuaged.

I ignored her, continuing my slow progress. Actually, that's not quite right. I should say I laughed at her and continued my slow progress. I won't tell you the name she called me, but it definitely hurt my feelings.

Christy was squirming, her nerves being shredded by that slow progress. Desperate, she tried to push herself back against that slow nightmare but found herself held fast. She started swearing quietly. What the hell was I trying to do?

All good things must come to an end, and eventually I was fully inside Christy. I paused and transferred my hands from her hips to her breasts, closing upon them and massaging them.

Christy was poised expectantly, waiting for the real action to start. I still held off, waiting for her to start pressing against me, but she seemed confused by my lack of movement.

Her body was twisting slightly now, rubbing gently against me, urging me to action. And then Christy was verbally urging me to action.

"What the hell are you waiting for?" she demanded. "A fucking bus? Do something, damn you."

I took this as a hint that she wanted me to start some serious cock action. I'm pretty cluey this way. I can pick up on these subtle hints.

I delivered a quick slap to her bottom, warning her to watch her language. While she was gasping at the shock of that I suddenly pulled back and then thrust back in, and then she promptly lost the air she'd gasped in, in a sudden shriek as I slammed against her.

Now that I was moving I was quite happy to slam into her as hard and as fast as she liked. I started thrusting hard, encouraging her to lift her hips to meet me as I plundered her body.

I was very quickly breathing heavily, while Christy was making little breathy sounds and begging me to go harder, to take her, to drive her wild. I willingly did all those things, repeatedly driving into her.

It wasn't long before Christy was giving out little screams, her climax hovering just there, and she was frantically reaching for it.

So naturally, I slowed down. I was still enjoying myself, ripples of pleasure radiating out of my erection and letting me know that I had this woman where she was supposed to be. Why hurry?

It took a few moments for Christy to twig that I was deliberately delaying her climax and she called me a nasty name again. She really wanted me to move my arse.

I held off, keeping her nicely balanced on the wrong side of climax heaven, while I enjoyed myself and Christy's protests and screams grew louder. Like I said earlier, all things have to come to an end. My own climax was coming so I let Christy off the hook.

Slamming into her hard and fast, I exploded, but I have to admit my climax wasn't a patch on Christy's. She screamed, loud and long. I wouldn't be surprised if the cops turn up to investigate.

Christy finally calmed down and leaned against the drier, panting, while I stood behind her, semi-erect inside her and caressing her breasts.

Pulling back I tidied myself away. Glanced at Christy and suggested that a shower wouldn't go amiss.

She turned and looked at me and pushed past, heading for the bathroom.

Lying in bed with Maureen that night, she was snuggled up next to me while my arm was around her, cupping her breast.

"So, how did you find Christy?" she asked.

"Interesting," I said. "She's enthusiastic, but passive. She needs to learn to give more instead of just waiting and accepting what is being done to her. I will say she seemed to enjoy the exercise, and I'm sure she'll be more pro-active as she learns."

"Are you going to offer to give her lessons?" Maureen asked.

I shook my head. "No, love. Once was an interesting experience, but you're all I really need. Are you going to let her know that you know?"

Maureen shook her head this time. "No need. She already knows that I know. She just doesn't know that you know that I know."

Maureen paused. "So, why don't you tell me how it happened and I'll see if I can do better."

I laughed and started talking.