'My, you're quite randy tonight,' she looked up at him, mildly tousling his dark hair with her fingers.
'Yes, and I'm very thirsty... for you,' he licked his lips.
Anna snickered thickly as Mark pulled her knickers off completely, and pushed her dress up to expose the downy thicket of golden hair between her legs. He rubbed his hands over it for a few minutes, before wetting the tips of his fingers slowly with his tongue. He took his wet fingers and rubbed them in a circle over her mound, causing Anna's hips to shift slightly, and her back to arch a little.
'Ohh....' Anna moaned again.
Mark lowered his face to Anna's hips, so that all I could see now was his mop of wavy black hair rotating above her pelvis. He looked up every few seconds, his deep blue eyes seemingly hypnotized by Anna's pale skin and tiny breasts, which were more nipple than anything else. Anna clenched her teeth, writhing around above Mark's mouth, breathing sharply as he aggressively licked her pussy. She grabbed his hair, clenching it in her fists as he sunk his face deeper. Anna gasped sharply, letting out a low moan, a sound I'd never imagined could come from her lips, making my fingertips tingle and giving me a chill of excitement.
'Oh, Mark... Oh my god... ahhh...' Anna came with gusto, her body involuntarily elongating itself, as if she were taking a stretch. She squeezed her thighs around Mark's head, and grabbed his hair to keep her balance on the sofa. When she was finally sated, he kissed his way up her body to her face, nuzzling her neck, and whispering in her ear, unfastening his trousers at the same time.
'Oh, no,' she tried to sit up again. 'I've told you "no".'
'Darling, you know I love you, and you know that I would never hurt you...'
'If you really loved me, you would wait; it's the only thing that I've ever asked of you, Mark.'
Mark sighed in frustration, half-kneeling on the sofa as Anna pushed herself up and began to straighten her clothes.
'I'm sorry, Mark,' she said, kissing his cheek as she stood up. 'Good night.'
Anna left the room, closing the door behind her. Mark was still kneeling on the sofa, staring out of the window, giving me a chill. I knew that he couldn't see me, because I was standing in the shadow. I slowly exhaled as he turned his gaze to the side, staring at something he must have seen out in the pasture.
He knelt there with his trousers still open, his penis jutting out. His was rather dark for his complexion, and I found myself staring as he moved his hand along its length, stroking it at an accelerating pace. He had a pained look on his face, his brows wrinkled and his mouth tight, until he closed his eyes. His face softened at this point, and I noticed that his penis was larger and more erect than before. Mark moaned softly, his breathing and his stroking were rhythmically connected. I was entranced by the combined sound, wafting a quiet melody in my mind, trying to imagine what he was thinking, what he was picturing as he came closer to his climax.
Mark was jerking it now, so fast that I imagined that it must hurt. He leaned over the arm of the sofa, stopping just long enough to grab some papers from the table. My eyes widened in horror as I realized what they were: my French notes. I held my breath again, blinking my eyes in disbelief, as Mark finally came, squeezing his penis from the base to the tip, milking spurts of white droplets from it. He released a low growl as he did this, breathing as if he'd just finished running.
My legs had locked from standing for so long; I was afraid to move, and I only breathed when I absolutely had to. I waited, for what seemed like an eternity, for Mark to collect himself, hoping that he wouldn't just collapse on the sofa, and spend the night there. He slowly fastened his trousers and stood up, placing the papers that he'd dribbled on back on the table. He stood at the door to the hallway for a second, stopping to release a quick cough, before he finally left the room.
Of course, I'd waited for half an hour before I finally moved to step inside the house. I wasn't sure if Mark had seen me watching or not, but after I'd lingered in the sitting room, to see the sticky, warped sheet of paper that he'd left for me, I was certain that he'd known that I was there. I silently made my way to my bedroom, paranoid enough to feel his eyes on me, even though I could see that the door to my father's room, where Mark had been sleeping, was securely shut.
I lay awake for most of the night, finally getting a few hours of fitful sleep just before sunrise. I must have slept until midmorning, because I could gauge by the position of the sun that it must have been late. I turned over in bed to notice a banana and a slice of bread on a tray. Anna must have brought it in earlier, and I'd obviously slept through her usual morning tirade.
My window was open, already letting the midmorning heat inside. My room was still fairly cool, so I decided to lie in bed for a little longer, before I had to get up to face anyone else. I was hoping that Anna and Mark had decided to go out, because I was afraid to see him just yet. I didn't know what would happen after what I'd seen in the night, and I wasn't eager to find out.
I closed my eyes, hoping for renewed sleep, but I only managed to visualize more of what I'd witnessed the night before. I could see Mark's eyes staring upward, as he drank in Anna's pussy. His stony, hypnotized expression as he stroked his penis, and that animalistic growl he emitted as he'd milked himself to climax. I could feel myself getting wet just remembering this, and I closed my legs, trying to capture the feeling, wondering what it must have been like to have a wet, warm tongue stroking my folds as Mark had done to Anna.
I wet my fingers with my tongue, and moved them down to my pussy, slowly spreading my lips, and stroking the tip of my clit with one finger. I lightly rubbed my lips with the other fingers, finally moving them down far enough to mash my clit into the heel of my hand, and move a couple of fingers inside. I was getting wetter by the minute; I moved my hips, to increase the sensation of pleasure, squeezing my thighs together to work up my carnal appetite. I was getting excited, but I wanted more. I wanted something inside, deeper than my fingers, something hard and firm. I reached over to my bedside table, grabbing the hairbrush that had become very dear to me, for several reasons. I rubbed the smooth, curved handle across my wet lips, back and forth, slowly teasing myself to a near climax. I worked my hips around it, grinding my slickness onto it, gradually slipping it inside. I maneuvered the brush with one hand, while I squeezed my swollen breasts and pert red nipples with the other. The brush made me feel full and made me want it deeper as soon as I'd pushed it inside; I pulled it in with just my muscles, sucking it in as deep as it could go. It wasn't very long, but it was rubbing up against that sweet spot inside, that made me gush with pleasure from the constant friction and pressure.
It was so good this time that I let a moan slip from my lips. I moved a little faster, caught up in the sensual excitement, unable to stop myself. I thought I'd heard someone walking past outside, but my blind was still closed, so I figured that if I kept quiet enough, no one would know what I was doing.
I'd gotten the brush into the perfect position, feeling so irresistibly tantalizing that I was almost to the point of tears. I couldn't help moaning, audibly, at least once. Soon I was losing control of everything but the functions that were helping me to push down onto the slick brush handle, and to push it up deeper into my body. I could feel my dripping pussy pulling tightly on it, sucking it in, and I started to quiver as I kept squeezing and bucking.
I came with a loud gasp, and crashed into the wave of pleasure with a lengthened moan. I knew that if someone was outside, they would have heard me, but I was beyond control at that point, senseless with arousal. I lay on the bed, too spent to remove the brush handle right away. I lay sprawled across the bed, my body immobile, my heart still turning flips. I closed my eyes, to regain my composure, slowly drifting off to sleep again.
'Olivia!' I woke up with a start, almost bruising myself as I realized that the brush was still inside me. 'Olivia, are you going to sleep all day?'
I was Olu, knocking at my door.
I moved fast enough to hide the brush, but not fast enough to cover myself.
'Olivia, I've been waiting for an hour...' Olu burst into the room.
I could feel myself blushing, moving to cover myself with the sheet as he quickly looked away from me.
'I'm sorry. I'll be there as quickly as possible,' I muttered.
Despite my new nervousness around Mark, I developed a fascination with his relationship with my sister. As cold and abrasive as she was, I just couldn't imagine her being married to anyone, much less to Mark. I couldn't picture her melting into his loving embrace, or her finally deciding to completely submit to him. I watched them interact with each other, at every chance that I got, hoping to spot some clue as to what really attracted them to each other.
I'd gotten desperate enough to create a plan to watch them one night. Mark was exceedingly affectionate with her, on the last day of his stay. I noticed that as the day wore on, Anna was less devoted to pushing Mark away. The would be separated for two months, before she saw him again, and I thought that she was finally realizing that their time together had neared its end. By the time we'd finished supper, Mark had managed to get Anna in the corner of the sitting room, locked in his embrace, kissing and stroking her hair.
She was crying, and he was trying to comfort her. I could hear her saying that she didn't want him to go, and that she would miss him terribly. He tried to reassure her, telling her that it wouldn't be as long as she was thinking, and that the time would go by faster than they both knew. Pretty soon, his reassuring words turned into whispers, and I had trouble making out what they were saying to each other.
'Come on, buttercup... just this once... you know everything will be fine...' Mark breathed.
'Mark, we can't...'
'There's no reason that we can't... we'll be married in a few months. Anna, there is no one else for me but you.'
'Mark, what if I get...'
'I'm sure that won't happen, Love. Even if it did, we'd be married before anyone noticed.'
'I don't know, Mark...'
Anna was sobbing now, and Mark pulled her away from the corner.
'All right. Come on... I don't want us to spend our last night together like this. I think you should lie down for a bit.'
'I'm sorry, Mark, I really am... I just don't know what to do... I want to, I really do... but you know that I'm afraid...'
'I won't hurt you, Anna, you know that... Here, let me just show you... come on...'
He took her hand and led her out of the room. I frowned, realizing that I was probably about to miss something really interesting, after having had to witness all of that sniffling and pleading. I guessed that he was going to take her to her room, so I dashed around the house, hoping that Olu wouldn't come looking for me. I was feeling a bit guilty for spying, but my curiosity seemed to win out in the end.
Anna's window was open, and since the moon was hanging over the front of the house, the back, where her room was situated, was in deep shadow. They were there, and it was easy to see into the room, once my eyes became acclimated to the dark. Anna turned on a small lamp, which wasn't bright enough to light the entire room, but cast a dull glow on everything. She was sitting on the side of her bed, still crying, while Mark stood above her, staring down at her golden hair.
He seemed to be hypnotized by her; she cried for a few moments, and he only stood there, watching her. I had to guess that something had happened in the time that it took me to get there, something important. Mark moved as if in a trance, slowly raising his hand to touch her head, and running his fingers through her hair. He did this for a long time, just standing there in silence, touching her hair, until Anna eventually stopped crying.
'Stand up, Anna,' he said this so softly, that I almost didn't hear it.
She stood up no longer crying, but staring at the floor.
'Take your dress off.'
She stepped aside so that she could have more space to move, quietly obeying his command. I watched as she unbuttoned the front of her dress far enough to pull it over her head; after she'd taken it off, she draped it over a chair next to the bed.
'Lie across the bed, now.' Mark's voice was deep and detached.
Anna, still dressed in her white slip and her shoes and stockings, stretched her body across the bed, staring up at Mark, awaiting his next command.
'Take off your shoes.'
With minimal movement, Anna kicked her shoes off, allowing them to fall to the floor with a thud. I wondered if they had done this sort of thing before; I'd never seen Anna act this way, but it almost seemed to be a natural thing with them. They both seemed to be under some sort of magical spell.
