Meghan's sister, Bridget, had always been the more sexual of the two. Meghan's boyfriend, Nick, had initially started coming around to the house more because Bridget would always come home from school in those wonderfully small volleyball shorts: blue mesh with yellow fringes, riding up just enough to expose the slightest hint of her cheeks, supple and perfectly tanned in the May afternoon sun. Nick was into Meghan, sure; they'd been dating for several months... but Bridget was who he thought about when he was inside his girlfriend.
It was one particularly sweaty and heavy summer evening when Nick came over to Meghan's house to hang out, but she and her mother were about to go shopping.
"When will you be back?" Nick asked, throwing himself down onto the couch in the living room and turning on the TV. Meghan's mother, Janine, shrugged. "Probably not too long. Maybe two hours? We have to get food for dinner tonight and then go to the mall for a bit."
Meghan came into the room, smiling at Nick. "Hey baby," she came over to the edge of the couch, her strawberry blonde hair hanging over his face as she kissed him. Janine smiled. Nick's crotch immediately got hard, but not because of the kiss.
"Did you want anything from the mall?" Meghan asked, slipping on her shoes by the side-door and putting her purse over her shoulder. "Didn't you need new jeans or whatever?"
Nick turned back to the TV. "I mean, I won't stop you from buying me clothes, but I'm alright either way," was his reply, nonchalantly. Secretly he obviously hoped she bought him more than one pair, but fuck if he was going to pronounce that desire.
Mother and daughter walked to the door and opened it, walking out. "See you later!" Meghan said, smiling and waving. Both she and Nick were 20 years old, still in college, albeit separate universities with 500 miles between them. Neither had ever cheated on the other, but Nick certainly harbored his innate desires. He had a hefty stash of porn on his laptop at school, and would often indulge in all-night masturbatory sessions when his roommate would be out of town. Fairly recently he began experimenting with taboo and kinky subject-matter, sometimes frequenting online video chat sites to watch girls from across the world do whatever he told them to do. Occasionally he would get angry when they'd advertise that they "do anything and everything" but then denied his requests to see some of the more salacious acts performed by others in the porn industry. He would coax them and offer more money, but more often than not those indulgences left him feeling annoyed and out-of-sorts; he would often log off and go to sleep.
During the summer months, however, he would spend so much time with Meghan he didn't have much privacy, and his needs were more than met - her lusts were almost as insatiable as his own, albeit perhaps more timid in their initial awakening. She would often wake him in the morning with a delicious blowjob, or something just laying close to him in bed and breathing softly into his ear or near his mouth, her thin fingers dancing down his arm and chest, delicately pirouetting around his lower abdomen until he awoke, at which point she would fully indulge both their wishes and take him fully into her mouth. They would have rough sex against the wall in her off-campus apartment, on the dirty stone floor of the basement under the apartment while they waited for the laundry to finish. Nick would often pound her from behind, her pale ass high in the air and her face against the ground. Each breath she took brought dust into her mouth, and then blew it out again as he pounded into her over and over again; sometimes when she was particularly aroused she would run her tongue along the floor, moaning as she did it, licking the disgusting basement floor, much to Nick's deviant delight. Once he was near finishing, he would have her turn around on her knees and look up at him, her eyebrows knitted and her mouth open, pouting; she would - without even being asked - beg him for his seed. She never accepted anything from him without asking; she was almost subservient that way, but Nick loved it. Eleven months had gone by and their relationship remained steady.
But there was always that part of Nick that demanded more from him, that crept into his psyche and wanted what only Bridget could offer: that young, barely-eighteen body; those blue eyes paired with that soft brunette hair, usually in a messy bun atop her head; those gorgeous, smooth legs; perfectly manicured and painted fingernails and toes; and those lips, never smeared with lipstick, yet somehow they still glowed in the light. And she would always smile when he would come around.
"Hey you," Nick awoke quickly from a powernap on Meghan's couch and saw Bridget standing by the ottoman near his feet, holding the TV remote and two beers. "Wakey-wakey."
Nick sat up, chuckling to himself. He accepted a beer from his girlfriend's little sister. "You're too young for beer. Stick to wine."
"So are you, you and my sister aren't even 21 yet and I know for a fact you both drink." She retorted smartly, settling down onto the other end of the couch. She was wearing a white v-neck t-shirt almost too small for her, those blue-and-yellow booty shorts, and ankle-high socks. Her hair was in that classic teenage girl bun, thrown atop her head almost-sloppily, but he knew that she took great care in how she presented herself; he knew her type all too well.
She had her reading glasses on that afternoon, and even a pencil behind her ear. "That's debatable," Nick replied to her accusation. "What, do you follow us around?"
"Not 'follow', per se," she said coyly, "but I know you were both at Maggie Hasterman's grad party last weekend."
"Oh yeah?" Nick's eyes gazed through the mundane show on the TV, pretending not to care.
"Oh yes, and I know you did a gargoyle and my sister passed out in the driveway. Or at least that's what I heard through the grapevine."
Nick sipped his beer, smiling. He put his feet up on the coffee table; he hadn't worn socks with his shoes. In his head that was one less thing to take off if Meghan and he fucked later that evening.
"First of all, don't believe everything you hear, kiddo." Nick secretly thought girls like Bridget liked being called "kiddo" by older guys; out of the corner of his eye he saw her eyes sparkle and her lips form a small smile. "Secondly, even if either one of those events occurred, it was under adult supervision. Third...fuck off."
They both erupted in laughter, drinking their beers for a little while longer. Then the subject changed.
"Anyway, how did senior year go for you?" Nick queried. He didn't really care, honestly, but the more Bridget talked the more relaxed she would ultimately become. He didn't have an ulterior motive at this point, mind, but the situation was certainly unfolding in a manner that appealed to him greatly.
"It was good," Bridget replied, curling up her legs and toes under her perfect ass. "Well, at least not as boring as I thought. At least I got into college."
"Oh yeah, you did manage that, didn't you?" Nick said wryly. Bridget threw her pillow at him. "You got into Westinghouse, right? You know that's only like twenty miles or so from my apartment over at UVM."
Bridget perked up, but tried to hide it. "I didn't know that, actually. But I didn't pick it for that reason. They have a great science program. And I got a scholarship for volleyball."
"Ooh nice," Nick said sarcastically. "What're they, like, D3?"
