~I would like to thank Youbadboy for starting this story with me. I never had more fun writing a story before. It was a joy. Unfortunately he was unable to help me finish it. I just hope I can live up to what we started as a team. Enjoy.~ FK.
*
I laughed in delight at the expression on his face. He wanted to kill me. Laura came up beside us and I gently stepped to the side as she wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned forward for a kiss. Everyone laughed and cheered at the display. Then Laura stepped closer to him and pressed her body against his, savoring the feel of him. His arms loosely hung around her and I felt myself feeling, not for the first time, a twinge of jealousy toward her.
My father met Laura at the house party of client two years ago. A week later they went on their first date and have been together since. She was exactly ten years older than me and ten years younger than my father. Yet somehow she couldn't seem to find middle ground with me as much as I she did with my father.
She pulled away and whispered in his ear. The others were too far away to hear, but I wasn't.
"Oh big boy. Where did that come from? Don't worry I'll take care of him tonight. I got some special birthday pussy he might find interesting." Then she kissed his cheek and turned to the crowd.
I stood there in shock. Somehow I never imagined the word 'pussy' coming out of that woman's mouth, let alone to my father. It made me wonder, just what happened when the two of them were alone. What other words flowed from her lips? What words flowed from his? I had no doubt in my mind that I was going to eventually find out.
She pulled him further into the apartment and well wishers surrounded him. Once the shock wore off, he seemed genuinely happy and greeted his friends, some he hadn't seen in years, with warmth and joy.
From that point on, my role for the night changed. I was no longer a seducer of fathers -- I was a hostess. Laura kept everything moving and the crowd entertained. She made sure everyone's attention was on Daddy. I made sure everyone was comfortable and went around the room handing out plates of treats and getting drinks. We decided not to make it a dinner setting, considering Daddy and I already ate, and I didn't have a dining room table big enough to hold everyone, but everyone seemed happy with the arrangement.
It didn't take long for time to fly by, before I knew it, it was midnight and time to cut the cake. I had set everything up in the 'dinning' area and everyone gathered around with their glasses of wine and champagne, as Daddy stood in front of the German chocolate cake, his favorite. Somewhere in the background I heard a doorbell, but I didn't pay it too much attention. Someone probably went to their car and came back.
"Happy birthday to you... Happy birthday to you... Happy birthday dear..."
Everyone sang on point but out of tune and my Daddy stood there with a look of deep embarrassment as he listened. I wore a smile from ear to ear because I knew exactly what he was thinking -- please don't let them sing 'How old are you now?'
But they didn't. They spared him the grief and soon he was cutting the cake and handing out slices. I laughed and clapped and started jumping up and down in place. I do that sometimes when I'm excited and need to expel some energy. Just as I settled down he whispered in my ear.
"Hey baby sis, I see you are having a party. Can I have some cake too?"
Just then a tongue slide across my ear lobe and I found myself shuddering slightly at the sensation. My breath stopped and my body froze in shock. Turning my head, I looked into the eyes of my older brother, Mark. What the fuck was he doing here?
I quickly looked around but saw my dad was still preoccupied with handing out slices of cake. Taking Mark's hand, I lead him to the kitchen.
"What the hell are you doing here?!"
He looked good. He was wearing a navy Armani blazer over a cream silk shirt that looked like it cost about the equivalent of one month's rent. He smiled was as charming as ever. His dark brown eyes twinkled at my discomfort. Mark and I looked quite similar; despite the fact we had different fathers. My father was white, his was black, but he shared the same caramel colored tones as I. He lived and worked in Washington and was the product of my mother's first marriage. He and I were pretty close growing up, even though we lived in different households-me with mom and dad, he with his father and his various girl friends. After the divorce of my parents, I saw a lot more of him. And at 18, going through one of the hardest transitions of my life, an older, wiser brother seemed like a godsend. We became close he and I. Very, very close. He became my confidant, my best friend, and eventually more.
"What's the matter, Sis? Not happy to see me?"
He reached out an arm and cupped the back of my neck. His fingertips lightly stroked my tense muscles into relaxing. Against my better judgment I found myself giving in. He saw this and moved closer until our bodies were almost touching. I felt his heat reach out to me. It touched me like fingers. It stoked me, caressed me. My nipples tightened and for the second time that night I found myself intensely aroused by that which is forbidden.
I took a deep breath and opened eyes that I had no memory of closing. He filled my senses.
"Why are you here?" I asked again.
"Business. I thought I'd surprise you. I thought perhaps I could spend some time in you while I'm here -- reconnect."
I arched my brow and looked at him in disbelief. "After all this time, you want to spend time with me?"
He smiled. "Actually, I said 'in you' but yeah, we can do that too."
I couldn't help it. I laughed. I missed him. I haven't seen and talked to him in months. Not since he gained control of his family business. His father died and he inherited the title of CEO of his family's multimillion-dollar business. A family that had no place for my mother when she was his father's wife.
"I'm kinda busy here."
"Yeah. I noticed that. Old boy's birthday, huh? How old is he now? 80? 82?"
"Stop it." I said, irritated. I pushed his hand away from me. Mark's animosity toward my father came in handy when I was an angry teenager, but as my dad and I became closer, I began feeling uncomfortable with the tension between the two men. The dislike was mutual. I suspect it had to do with jealousy over my mom.
"He's my father and I love him and you will respect him in my house."
He stared at me with a look of pure stubbornness.
"You used to hate him too."
"I never hated him. I was just hurt, but things have changed. I've always loved him, and he and I are getting closer again. I need you to be on your best behavior... please?"
He sighed and reached for a glass of wine sitting on a serving tray. "Yeah I guess I can do that."
"Why didn't you call?"
"I wanted to surprise you. Perhaps stay with you?"
I leaned back at that. Stay with me? Not sure if that was a good idea. Not with the way things were progressing with Daddy and me. I finally was leading him to my way of thinking and Mark would defiantly interfere with things. I also had to consider the way Mark and I left things. We never really talked about the relationship he and I developed all those years ago and we never officially put an end to things and with the way my body was responding to his presence, I wasn't quite sure if I could end it completely. I still remembered. My body still remembered. Oh and that thing he used to do with his tongue... right on my--
"I missed you," he said.
He was closer now. I took a deep breath as I realized my emotions must have showed on my face. I took a step back and he took one forward. He moved to the side of me, forcing me against the countertop - trapping me between it and him. His hands found my hips and he lifted me onto it. I wanted to protest. I swear to god I did. His name was at the very tip of my tongue, but his scent. His scent surrounded me and the feelings buried deep down inside came back. Oh god how I remembered.
He spread my thighs. His hands traveled up my legs, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. I sat there, watching, losing all conscious thought as I watched the pulse beat at the base of his neck, exposed between the V the silk shirt. There was a gleam to his skin. He was wet. A thin layer of sweat coated his body. I wanted to lick it, that spot, and taste the flavor of him.
His hands rose higher, bunching my skirt along the way as he slipped his body between my legs. I felt the pressure of him and I opened wider to make room. My heartbeat thundered in my head. It was the only sound to be heard. The kitchen was silent. His hands rested at the apex of the V of my thighs. My pounding pussy danced to the beat of my heart. He stopped. I could feel his thumbs rest motionless on my pussy. I found myself groaning in despair. Unconsciously my hips bucked across the countertop. I felt his thumb slip down across my clit and I inhaled sharply at the contact. I moved again, bucking my hips one more time, this time on purpose and when his thumb met my clit again, he pushed back and apply the slightest hint of pressure. The waves of pleasure soared through me.
My pussy began to leak and cry sweet wetness as it contracted involuntary. I was close. I was so close to cumming. I moved my hips again, but this time he didn't push back, this time his hands moved away from me, further up my tights, away from my achy hole. I moaned in protest. Then he lifted my legs higher on the counter until the heel of my shoes hooked on the counter edge. He stepped away from me and looked down at my soaking wet pussy, watching as I poured out my lust for him.
He flared his nose at the slight musky scent that traveled up through the air -- my scent, my arousal, my body begging to be fucked.
And that is how he found us.
My father walked through the kitchen doors and halted suddenly. We both turned and froze as we saw him standing there. I don't know who was more shocked at the moment. Him or us. I would probably guess him considering I was sitting on the kitchen counter, surrounded by food and drinks from the party while pooling pussy juice on the table. My thighs were widely spread as my brother held me open for his appraisal. Yes, I would think my father was more in shock than we were.
My heart began to pound, but this time for a different reason. I think the emotion that held me captive was fear. I pulled my thighs together and pushed Mark away from me.
"Daddy." I cried out as I jumped down from the countertop. "I can explain..." but I got no further. The look in his beautiful blue eyes stole my breath. Pain. So much pain. He took that moment and left the room. I went to follow him but Mark gripped my arm, stopping me.
"Maybe you need to give him time."
I looked at him like he was stupid and pulled away roughly. He let me, but then he too had a look that halted the words that were about to escape my mouth. I sighed. How did I get in this mess? I looked at the door that my father just went through and looked back at Mark. I turned back toward him and reached up, gripping the back of his head in the palm of my hand. I pulled him lower and kissed him. I kissed him with the intensity that was stored up in my soul. I kissed him with all the desire and lust he inspired in me. I kissed him with the despair that was mounting in my heart, second by second.
