index


Message-ID: <55258asstr$1170033001@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: J <autoeroticrobot@yahoo.com>
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit
Subject: {ASSM} Wow Thanks Chp. 18
Lines: 354
Date: Sun, 28 Jan 2007 20:10:01 -0500
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d


 
 


 
____________________________________________________________________________________
Don't pick lemons.
See all the new 2007 cars at Yahoo! Autos.
http://autos.yahoo.com/new_cars.html 

<1st attachment, "thanks18.txt" begin>

Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by the author unless explicitly waived.  Non-commercial re-posts
to ASSM or similar venues are allowed provided copyright information
remains on the re-posted story.  As a courtesy to the author please do not
delete the copyright information.  No commercial reprints are authorized.

   The author enjoys feedback and comments:
autoeroticrobot[at]yahoo[dot]com.  ...  Or look me up in Second Life:
avatar Fnugus Abismo.

   WARNING: This story depicts consensual sexual activity between men and
women, or women and women.  Some of the fictional participants in the story
may be under the age of 18.

   Wow Thanks (MFf, exhib, voy, inc, cons) by autoeroticrobot

   Chapter 18.  Interruption.

   Perhaps it was the intensity of the situation, perhaps it was a moment
of doubt about whether this was entirely the right thing to be happening,
but I actually realized my erection had dipped to half-mast.  Once I was
out of sight, around the corner of the door jamb, I gazed down at myself,
disconcerted by this display of half-heartedness.

   I began stroking, gently, toying with my cock and enjoying the hotness
of its semi-erect smooth shape.  Quickly, I became absorbed in the
sensations, as I replayed the events of the last several days in my mind. I
could feel the cum building up in me, and knew I had to slow down.  The
half-erection had a very short half-life, apparently.

   I looked at the clock on the wall, and it'd only been three minutes.  I
slowed but didn't stop, and concentrated on just the sensations, now trying
to chase out the images of my naked sister and niece, for they were
overwhelmingly TOO arousing.  Finally, my time was up, and I was able to
stop.

   I emerged back into the living room, after my five minutes, largely
having overcome my self-consciousness.  The fantasy and reality of the
situation, the incredible arousal I was experiencing and the horny edginess
I had just massaged into myself all combined to make me more audacious and
less concerned with restraint and appearances.

   I walked back out boldly, preceded by my rigid member with is tiny grin
of sticky precum, and resumed my seat on the couch.

   I swear, Lissa's eyes seemed to bug out a little as she stared
unabashedly at my lap.  Denise's expression was less shocked looking, but
it was a gaze of lust I'd never witnessed on my sister before - it was a
delight to behold.

   "Well, looks like that went well," Denise remarked, sardonically.  She
raised her eyebrow toward Lissa, who was still staring breathlessly.

   Lissa gathered herself, nodded slightly, and said, a little goofily,
"Uh, have fun in there?"

   I just grinned and shrugged, and sat in such a way that I was fully on
display, finally feeling no trepidation at all, and happy that they were
enjoying the view.  Then I recalled Lissa's little schedule, and, before I
could have second thoughts, I turned to Denise and said, "your turn.  In
the den." I motioned with my head, indicating the direction.

   Denise made a wry smile, and fluidly rose and walked in front of me. 
Her breasts were astoundingly buoyant and perfect-looking in that moment,
with their broad, chocolate brown, puffy cones topped with their
enormous-looking top-hats.  Turning back at the door, she said over her
shoulder, "no fair - you can see in, from where you're sitting."

   "I'll move," I suggested, and stood and went to the other end of the
couch, where she'd been sitting.  As I sat, I noted how the cloth of the
couch had retained the warmth of her body, and it felt eerily personal. 
Sexual.  Even more so, when I felt a hint of cooler dampness against my
thigh - oh my, I thought, she's been leaking a bit.

   Now that Denise was out of view, I exchanged glances with Lissa.  She
sat almost rigidly at attention, her arousal evident and clearly on edge.
She cocked her head, as if listening, and held her finger to her lips.  She
wanted to listen to see if she could hear what her mother was up to.  I
realized they'd been doing the same when I was in there, and wondered if
the flap-flap-flap of my wanking had been audible.  Hmm...  probably - I
could swear I now heard the faintest squish-squish-squish from the den. 
Wow.

   As we listened, I realized Lissa was gradually spreading her legs.  Her
hands were carefully on the arms of the chair, but she was becoming less
and less circumspect in her position.  She had begun glancing periodically
toward me - not my face but between my legs.  Her attention, her gradual
display of her most intimate self to me, the sounds coming from the den -
they all combined to ensure my throbbing cock didn't subside in the least.

   I watched raptly as first the lips of her sparsely haired pussy came
into view, then their pinkness was revealed, and they parted just slightly,
showing the barest hint of the inner lips.  At last, I saw her tiny
clitoris emerge - like a shiny little blooming flower in a speeded-up
biology film - from the blood-red, engorged folds near the top.

   It was very difficult for me to avoid touching myself.  It occurred to
me that Lissa was having difficulty, too - that's why her hands were locked
to the arms of the chair, the knuckles almost white despite her overall
flushed condition.  Almost too quickly, Denise re-emerged from the den,
and, seeing the two us with our gazes locked on each other's crotches, just
uttered a heavy sigh and took a spot on the sofa.

   We both broke off our mutual contemplation and turned to look at her.

   I could tell that Denise was about to tell Lissa it was her turn, but
suddenly, the phone rang.  We all jumped, we were so fixated on each other
and the highly charged erotic energies of the moment.

   Denise leaped up and answered the phone, which was on the wall around
the corner into the kitchen.  Of course, Lissa and I only heard one end of
the conversation.  Apparently it was Joan - Marie's mom.  Lissa made an
expression that can only be described as "oh my god!" hand to half-rounded,
open mouth, wide, blinking eyes.

   I could hear Denise saying something like, "um, sure, no problem.... 
yes, that's fine." Shortly, I heard her hang up, and she came around the
corner.  Very motherly, hands on hips, she didn't even need to ask her
daughter question.

   Lissa said, "god, I totally forgot.  Sorry...."

   I looked from one to the other, confused.  Lissa explained further, for
my benefit more than for her mom's.  "Yesterday when I was at Marie's, she
asked if it would be ok for her to come over today, since Jeff - that's
Marie's brother - has some kind of science fair thing, up in St Paul, and
Mr de Luca was on some business trip." I assumed Mr de Luca was Marie's
father.  "And I said sure, and that I'd ask mom but...  uh, with everything
that's been happening, I like totally forgot."

   Denise sat down.  The sexual tension had fled the room, with the
combination of the interruption and the news we would be having company for
the rest of the day.  Denise said, "well, this somewhat changes things. 
Joan said she'd be dropping Marie off in half an hour."

   Lissa nodded, and glanced involuntarily at the flagging wiggler in my
lap.  As often happens when I've been highly aroused and subsequently lose
my erection, a juicy blob of precum now glistened at its tip.  I saw her do
a double take, which immediately caused the waning to revert to waxing,
once again.  Denise caught her daughter's look and looked too, and grinned,
a bit stupidly.  Shrugged.

   Lissa took a deep breath and forced herself to look away.  "Well, we
just have to change the rules," she said.  "Obviously, no more nudism day,"
she continued, and her gaze swept all three of us, inclusively.  "As I'm
sure we're all disappointed.  But the other parts...  can stay the same. 
As long as we promise not to be, um, too obvious, right?"

   Denise nodded, and I said something like, "sure." More brightly, I
added, "Maybe things were going a bit too far, anyway."

   Denise chuckled, but Lissa, quite seriously, said, "no.  I wouldn't say
that.  This'll just make things more interesting, right?"

   "I suppose it gives us all something to be furtive and sneaky about," I
suggested.  "We all seem to rather like that, don't we?"

   Lissa giggled, as her mother outright guffawed at my joke.

   "Well, let's get dressed, then," I finally suggested.

   But, as Lissa moved to leave the room, Denise stopped her.  She said,
"you still owe your five minutes for the 8 o'clock hour, Lissa." Almost
sternly.

   Lissa blanched, then grinned.  Almost reflexively, she moved toward the
den.  Denise stopped her.

   "No, I think you should do it right here, on that chair.  Jason and I
will go into our rooms to get dressed - I'm sure we'll take longer than
five minutes, won't we?" She looked my direction.

   I shrugged.  "Of course," I said.

   Lissa looked self-conscious, then, but returned to her seat.  Denise and
I exchanged glances of almost romantic conspiracy, and each left the room.
I let the door shut, but only half way.  I dressed very, very quietly, but
I have to confess I heard nothing - Lissa was even quieter, I guess.

   It only took me a few minutes to dress, but I waited my five, straining
my ears, and finally heard Lissa get up from the recliner and run to her
room, shouting from across the living room, "it's ok to come out now, uncle
Jason." And giggling, again.  So damn cute.

   We all had some breakfast, Denise and I making another pot of coffee,
and Lissa tinkering with the microwave, making herself some hot cocoa.  By
the time Joan de Luca arrived at 9 on the dot, we almost seemed like a
normal family gathering on the Sunday after Thanksgiving.

   Joan came into the house for a few moments, Jeff and Marie in tow. 
Marie was 14, just like Lissa.  But blonde, and curvier, and several inches
taller.  She wasn't model material - her face had a bit too much length to
it, I guess, but she was quite pretty in her own way, and had a phenomenal
figure.  Joan looked like an older version of her daughter, though she
sported glasses and a frazzled soccer-mom look, her hair a lighter platinum
blonde, and an incongruous tan that spoke of either time in a tanning salon
or a recent Caribbean cruise or some such.  Jeff was about 12, I judged,
and barely into puberty.  A good head shorter than his sister or mom (who
were the same height, I noted), and even a few inches shorter than Lissa,
who was quite petite.  Also blond, but a darker shade, and looking quite
geeky with his glasses and dressed up in a tie for his science fair
presentation or whatever it was.  I suspected the geeky look was his
mother's idea.  I sympathized.

   Joan chattered a bit, aimlessly, downed a quarter cup of coffee with
about six packets of Equal dumped in it, and shortly hugged her daughter
goodbye and left with Jeff.  A frazzled whirlwind of energy, that woman.  I
found it attractive - but maybe it was just because of my unrepentantly
high level of horniness.

   This left the four of us, sitting round the table, finishing some
breakfast (Marie had helped herself to a toasted english muffin Lissa had
offered), and contemplating our respective thoughts.  Denise pretended to
become immersed in the editorial page of the newspaper.  I could tell she
was pretending.

   I emptied my coffee cup, got up and conscientiously decided to help
clean up the kitchen.  Soon enough, the girls disappeared into Lissa's
room. Denise came into the kitchen and leaned close to me.

   "It's after nine," she said, in a throaty voice that made the time of
day sound like a sexual act.  "And it's my turn to tell you when and
where."

   I glanced at her, curious to see what she was going to propose, my heart
suddenly racing.

   "You have to do it right here.  Standing at the counter."

   "But..." I whispered.

   She shook her head.  "I'll sit back down at the table.  I won't be able
to see."

   "What if the girls..." I protested again.

   She kept shaking her head.  "They won't be out, I don't think.  Not for
five minutes, at least." She returned to her seat, and resumed her
pretended perusal of the newspaper.

   I finished with loading the dishwasher, and wiped off the countertops,
buying a few seconds, but Denise shot me a sharp glance, with raised
eyebrows, that eloquently said, "Now!"

   Awkwardly, I unbuttoned my jeans and pulled out my uncomfortably rigid
pole, that I'd so carefully tucked into a pair of briefs and hidden under
some loose shirttails, so as to not be too obvious for our guests.  It felt
very exciting and erotic to be standing here in my sister's kitchen as I
felt the hot hardness in my grip, knowing she could see me down to just
above my waist over the countertop, from where she sat.  And see me she was
doing, as her fake newspaper reading wasn't going very well for her,
apparently.

   I brazenly decided to lock my gaze with hers, as I began to toy with my
meat.  I taunted and teased myself, knowing that an all-out stroke at this
point would cause a prohibited orgasm - and besides, I'd just cleaned the
kitchen!  I couldn't believe I was looking into my sister's eyes as I did
this.  That she could see my arm moving, see how my lips must have parted
in arousal and concentration, seen the glaze form in my eyes.

   It was an amazing, strangely intimate five minutes, that's for sure.  It
was with almost regret that I realized Denise was tapping her watch, my
eyes came back into focus, I stopped what I was doing and tucked my tool
back into its burrow.

   Denise gave me a few seconds to do this, then rose from the table to
come stand beside me, so I could feel the heat coming off her body, and
breathed into my ear, "that was more than five minutes, bro."

   Then she giggled almost like a schoolgirl and raced off to her bedroom.
I thought, for a minute, she was off to do you-know-what, but I knew Lissa
hadn't given her a time or place, and I knew we were all playing by the
rules.  Maybe she just had to pee, I thought.  And then I realized that
this hour it was my turn to tell Lissa.  For some reason, I found this
extremely exciting.

   Somehow, right on cue, Lissa and Marie emerged from Lissa's bedroom, and
milled into the dining room.  Somehow, I marveled, even just two teenagers
can "mill" under the right circumstances.

   "Hey, uncle Jason..." Lissa began, but, apparently sidetracked,
interrupted herself: "where's mom?" Looking around.

   "I think she's in her room," I speculated.

   "Oh.  Oh, well, can Marie and me go on the computer in the den?"

   "Sure," I said.  What was she up to now?  I wondered.  Or was it
"innocent" fun?  Games, or some such.  Given all that had been happening, I
had a difficult time imagining Lissa up to anything "innocent" anymore.  I
wondered if a part of me found this regretful.

   The girls ran off to the den without a word, but quickly Lissa poked her
head around the corner and said "thanks," and winked.  The little minx. 
Thinking quickly, I crooked my finger - come here.

   Her eyes got a little bigger, and she leaned around the corner farther.
"It's my turn," I said softly, "this hour, to tell you when and where.  The
where is in the den, ok?"

   She nodded, dumbly.

   "The when is up to you, but before ten, of course."

   Her face had turned serious, but she nodded again.  "Ok," she mouthed.
And disappeared, leaving me wondering for a moment if she wasn't taking me
seriously.  But of course she was.  Of course.

   So Lissa disappeared back into the den with her friend.  I decided to go
see what Denise was up to, but met her in the hall coming out of her
bedroom.  I explained that the girls were on the computer in the den, and
that I suspected Lissa had something up her sleeve.

   "Probably," Denise shrugged, and spontaneously took my hand and lead me
back to the dining room.  We sat in two chairs, side-by-side, and we could
hear the girls giggling and talking in low voices just beyond the ability
to make out the words.

   "I'm so fucking horny, Jason," my sister whispered to me.  Leaning
close. Even a day or two ago, such a statement from my sister would have
been a gift from heaven, and highly incongruous.  As it was, it was still a
gift from heaven...  but there was about zero incongruity.

   "Me too," I said, and punched her arm playfully, the way I had when we
were little.  

	----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------
	This post has been reformatted by ASSTR's
	Smart Text Enhancement Processor (STEP)
	system due to inadequate formatting.
	----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------

	
<1st attachment end>


----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------
Notice: This post has been modified from its original
format.  The post was sent as an email attachment and
has been converted by ASSTR ASSM moderation software.
----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
| alt.sex.stories.moderated ------ send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com>|
| FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderators: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
|ASSM Archive at <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org>   Hosted by <http://www.asstr-mirror.org> |
|Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d; look for subject {ASSD}|
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+