This is my entry in the Literotica 2018 Summer Lovin' contest. Enjoy!
*
Alan stood inside the patio doors with his son and watched Frances sunbathing by the pool. The high walls around the back yard cast stark shadows on the poolside and the sun's light glinted off the water. The contrasts made it hard to watch for very long. "She's a pretty girl," Alan said. "There've been a lot of pretty girls. How is she different? You didn't want to marry the others."
The question took Stephen by surprise. He watched his fiancée for a moment while he thought about his answer. "We have so much in common that it seemed natural," he said. "We have the same backgrounds and goals. We agree on the roles we want. We agree that we want a family." Stephen watched his father's brow furrow and was quick to add, "We want a family when it's time. We both want to travel, too."
Alan looked back at Frances and said, "We paid to bring her here, so we could get to know her. She's hardly said a thing to me or Karen in two days." He turned to walk away and had to step around Summer, who'd been listening to them talk.
Summer looked past her big brother and said, "Fudd's fabulous fiancée flaunts a fine fanny."
"You like it?" Stephen asked, and looked back at Frances. Her smooth skin gleamed under a film of suntan oil that highlighted her long legs and the curve of her pretty butt. To Stephen, she looked good enough to eat.
"Nah," Summer said. "I'm just playin' with words." She wore a bikini almost as small as Frances' and carried a towel over her arm.
Summer grew up trying to best her big brother at everything. Sometimes it worked. Usually it didn't. He thought she might even try to beat him to the altar, but so far it didn't look like it. There were always enough interested guys, but Summer refused to settle on one. She'd explained it as, "My life is changing too much."
"I forget," Stephen said. "Why do you call me Fudd?"
"Why? Oh Jeez, do I remember?" Summer asked. Her expression went blank for a moment before she said, "Oh, yeah. It's because of those baby pictures Mom has. You look like Elmer Fudd."
Stephen didn't look like Elmer Fudd anymore. His eyes were still blue, but his hair was a mop of sandy curls, and he had a young man's chiseled form, now softened a little by the demands of a sedentary job. Stephen shoved Summer's shoulder and said, "You should knock it off," he said, "Or I'll go back to calling you Stinky."
Summer laughed and looked back as she opened the patio door. "I'm going to get into girl talk with my future sister-in-law," she said. "I bet I know some stories she'd like."
Stephen wasn't going to win this one. He went to the refrigerator, popped a can of beer, and watched through the kitchen window. Summer laid her towel beside Frances, sat down, and oiled her arms and shoulders. She tossed her honey-colored pony tail over her shoulder and stretched out on her back. Even Stephen had to admit that his stinky sister filled that bikini
really
well.
Frances turned her head and said something to Summer that Stephen couldn't hear. She pushed herself up, tossed her towel over her shoulder, and headed for the patio door. Stephen sloshed his beer only a little when he ran to meet her.
"I thought you'd stay and talk to Summer for a while," Stephen said and stopped to suck the foam that threatened to overflow the beer can.
"I'm toast," Frances said, "And too hot to talk." She watched Stephen then asked, "Can I have a little of that?"
Stephen gave Frances the can and leaned past her to slide the patio door shut. His dad was in the den watching a baseball game and his mom was reading the newspaper. He wrapped a big hand around Frances' arm and said, "Yeah, I think you're too hot for talk, too. Let's go upstairs."
Frances wiped her mouth with the back of her hand while Stephen took the can back. She might have protested, but Stephen turned her toward the stairs and pressed the cold can between her shoulders. She yelped, let the towel slip to the floor, and ran the stairs with Stephen close behind.
Their bedroom had been Stephen's while he was in High School, but now it was furnished as a guest room. Frances turned around beside the bed, and Stephen handed her the beer before he closed the door behind them. The sunlight that filtered around the drawn curtains was the only light in the room. The air was cool, and for that instant, the hum of the air conditioner was the only sound.
Frances gulped the beer then said, "You should at least let me shower." She belched, covered her mouth, and laughed in surprise.
"I think I want you like this," Stephen said. "All greased up." Frances' dark hair was short, but long enough for Stephen to get a good grip and tip her head back. He leaned over her, inhaled her beer-scented breath, and tasted her beer-flavored lips. She pushed her arms over his shoulders and around his neck, and she rose in his arms.
Their kiss lasted only until Frances tipped the can and spilled cold beer down Stephen's back. He twisted and complained, and while she said, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" he took the beer and set it on the bedside table.
Stephen faced Frances again and hooked his finger into the front of her bra. He tugged, and Frances lurched closer. He untied the knot between her breasts and pulled the bra open. It had covered tasty-looking pink nipples in creamy triangles of untanned flesh.
Frances' breasts weren't large, but they were round and soft. Stephen cupped her tits in his hands; she caught her breath and pushed into his hands. He let her slip between his fingers, except for those hardening nipples, which he pinched between his thumb and forefinger.
Stephen dropped to sit on the bed and surprised Frances by pulling her down between his knees. He leaned over her to kiss her face and her lips while she fumbled at his belt and opened his jeans. Stephen was already hard. His cock strained for her. He filled her hands, and then he filled her mouth.
Frances' lips wrapped Stephen's cock, and she took him over her tongue to the back of her mouth. His cock was warm and wet when she drew back again. She slipped her tongue around the sensitive edge of its head and kissed it. At first, Stephen stroked Frances' shoulders and her back while she sucked him, but then he fell onto the bed and propped himself on his elbows to watch her work.
It only took Frances a few minutes to suck him to the brink of his orgasm. Stephen thought he'd explode. He groaned and pushed her away because it was all too soon. Frances squawked and laughed when he grasped her arms, pulled her over him, and rolled her on the bed. He pushed his hands into her bikini pantie and shoved it down her legs in one rough motion.
Frances tugged on Stephen's tee shirt until he let her pull it over his head, then he pressed her into the mattress and said, "Sex has got to be the best way to spend a hot summer afternoon."
He tasted the sun tan lotion on Frances' neck and on her shoulders while she cradled his head in her arms. Her voice rasped in his ear, "Fuck me, Stevie," she said. "Do me the way you like it most."
Stephen liked to watch Frances. He liked the open-mouthed expressions that crossed her pretty face and the way her tits bobbed while he fucked her. He liked to feel her clutch at his arms and his shoulders and wrap him in her long legs.
Frances took his shaft in her hands again, but this time she guided it between her thighs to her bare pussy. She watched his face while she worked him into her, then released him with the fat head of his cock inside her.
Stephen pushed, and Frances arched her back under him. He pushed again, and she closed her thighs around his waist. Stephen pushed again and brought their bodies together. His cock filled her and pulsed inside her.
He couldn't hold still even if Frances wanted him to. Stephen started slowly at first and watched her get more comfortable. He worked faster and watched her get more excited. In the end, he slammed their bodies together and watched her tits bounce. He watched her gasp for breath and felt her fingers dig into his shoulders.
If only he could have gone a little longer then maybe Frances would have peaked with him, but Stephen couldn't hold out. He clenched his teeth to stifle the noise he was about to make, shoved his cock as far into Frances as he could reach, and groaned while his body clinched and pumped his essence into her.
Stephen fell away when he was empty, and they both struggled to breathe again. She was the first to recover. She kissed his face and his neck and laid her head on his shoulder. When Stephen could move again, he pushed Frances back to look at her, and she lifted her leg over his hip.
The smooth folds between Frances' legs where wet with the rich mix of her juices and his cream. She ducked her head against his shoulder when he pushed one finger then two fingers into her, and he covered her bud with that slippery mix. Frances had been close to her climax, and she never came all the way down. Now she was ready to come.
Stephen cupped his hand over the soft flesh around Frances' hardened bud, and he felt her body tense in his arms. Her breath came ragged and shallow. She dug her fingers into his arms while he ground her under his palm and swirled his fingers over her, and then she let go. He covered her mouth with his to muffle her scream, and he felt the spasms course through her body. She writhed, and she collapsed in his arms and pushed his hand away. "Sensitive," she said.
* * * *
"I'm starting to think you don't really like Frances," Stephen said. Their conversation slowed after the hiking trail started climbing the talus slope, so he didn't expect Summer to answer right away. His eyes were fixed on the back of her bare legs, and both of them put one foot ahead of the other.
Summer paused where the trail switched back, and she looked down at her brother. "I'm trying," she said, "but she isn't making it easy. She doesn't talk much, and sometimes I don't understand what she means."
"Keep going," Stephen said, "I need to get off these rocks and into some shade."
"Pobrecito, Fudd," Summer said. "You wanted to do this. A little time in Chicago, and now you can't take the sunshine."
"I don't get out during the day all that much." Stephen said. "It's easy to go soft." He was less than two years out of grad school and, as the junior architect in the company, there were a lot of demands on his time
