Black Boots

"Get out!" He shouted as he pushed him out, "the rest of you too! That's my little sister for fuck's sake! She's barely legal and you're all slobbering over her like perverts. Just get out!"

All the boys had left by now, except for the tall blonde one, Tom's oldest friend.

"Hey, hang on mate, there's no need to be like that."

"Isn't there?" demanded Tom, squaring up to his friend. "You've known her since she was eight, do you really think it's appropriate to be encouraging her to behave like a tart?"

"I don't think anyone was doing any encouraging," said Sean, moving towards the door, "she was dressed like that when we came in and I think she looks great. Maybe it's time you stopped imagining her as your little sister and had a look at what's really in front of you.

"We'll see you at the social on Friday, yeh?" He said as he backed out of the door and shut it behind him before joining the others in the pub to laugh at the schitz Tom had thrown and make lewd comments about Sascha's tits.

Tom turned his attention to Sascha now, as she sat perched on the counter. Deflated somewhat by the abrupt departure of her admiring court, she was nevertheless still feeling bolder than usual and was preparing herself to stand up to Tom as he faced her, nostrils flared like a furious bull.

"I don't know what you're doing, but you look like a slapper." He said, assuming she had been aiming for elegant sophistication.

"Whatever," said Sascha, choosing the most irritating word known to man as the best way to continue the debate with her brother.

"Seriously -- have you any idea what those blokes probably think of you now?" With the air of desperation he tried one last tactic to shock her into a realisation of her situation.

"They're probably going to go back home and have a wank thinking about you in that ridiculous outfit."

"GOOD!" Yelled Sascha, getting off the counter so she could go right up to Tom and shout in his face.

"At least they can finally see that I'm not some stupid little KID any more. I'm sick of being told I'm a little girl and the way you treat me like I'm incapable of looking out for myself. When are you going to realise I'm not any more?"

"This is absurd," he said, shaking his head at her.

"Just go upstairs and put some proper clothes on and wash your face before Mum and Dad get home and see what a tart they've got for a daughter."

"No." She said firmly. "Why should I conform to what you think I ought to be."

"You won't go upstairs?" he asked?

When she shook her head and leaned back against the counter defiantly he seemed to make his mind up.

He launched forward and rugby tackled her round her thighs so that she tipped over his shoulder. He lifted her up and carried her, fireman style, up the stairs. She couldn't kick, because he had her legs firmly gripped, but she squirmed and wriggled, trying to make it as difficult for him as possible to carry her.

The sweater had ridden right up to her hips now and she could feel the air on her bare bottom. Desperately she squirmed some more, trying to get him to put her down so she could cover herself up.

"Fucking STOP doing that," he yelled at her, moving his hand to take a firmer hold of her as they went up the stairs. His hand was right beneath her bottom now, his fingers on the inside of her thigh brushing against the bare lips of her pussy.

He was concentrating so much he didn't register this, but Sascha was burningly, painfully aware of his touch on her. She went limp as she resigned herself to the humiliation of being treated like this and the embarrassment of her brother realising she was getting wet against his fingers.

He barged through her bedroom door when he got her upstairs throwing her onto the bed with a grunt.

"Now stop pretending to be something you're not and just act like the little girl you are." He said, shaking his head in scorn and wiping his damp fingers dry on his shirt without registering why they were damp.

Sascha, lying prone on the bed with the jumper still rucked round her waist, saw him do this and was suddenly unaccountably furious with him.

"When are you going to realise I'm not a little fucking girl any more?" she yelled, getting up off the bed and standing in front of him, almost at eye-level in her high high heels.

"I'm almost beginning to think you WANT me to be a little girl for the rest of my life. Just look at me properly for once!"

Tom's face flushed as his sister rounded on him,

"I can see exactly how old you are," he said with scathing coolness, "not even old enough to have developed properly." He lowered his eyes to hip height and looked at her bare pussy with deliberate slowness.

"You stupid prat!" yelled Sascha, infuriated by his patronising tone and the fact that she had lost all the power she felt she had had wearing her provocative clothing.

Obviously she couldn't beguile her brother the same way she could other men, he was hardly going to be entranced by her attractiveness, but she could try and shock him. Without even thinking through what she was doing she reached down and pulled the sweater off over her head so that she stood, naked, in front of him except for the slutty black boots.

"I waxed it off," she told him calmly, trying to stand upright and proud with her arms by her sides instead of covering herself up.

"I feel more sexual this way. Just look at me Tom. This is hardly the figure of a little girl."

She held herself rigid, defiant in the face of his ridicule. She was intensely aware of her bare breasts and the nipples flushing and hardening as he looked at her.

Tom, too was aware of his sister's bare breasts. For someone whose whole face and demeanour was that of a very young, shy girl she had the most astoundingly mature body and he was struck utterly speechless.

He hadn't been trying to make her feel small and silly, he genuinely had thought of her as young and in need of protection. He didn't recognise this fiery, sexy young woman who stood so provocatively in front of him.

She was only inches away from him now, panting with fury and passion, feeling him watching her naked body, waiting for him to respond.

His face was dark with some concealed emotion and she focused on every speck of dark stubble on his cheek and the way his nostrils flared slightly as he breathed out, rather than look him directly in the eye.

The silence grew thick with unsaid words and their breathing had synchronised; Tom was clenching his fists, utterly dumbfounded by this passionate, independent girl while Sascha forced her hands and body to stay relaxed so he wouldn't know how uncertain she felt at this shift in power.

Slowly she raised her eyes to his to see how he had taken the change in her. They locked eyes for a second and she saw the slight flicker of respect in his before they changed. Just as she had tried to take control of the situation by shocking him, he was now determined to do the same.

If she really thought her female-ness and her nudity gave her power then fine, but she'd better learn the kind of power it was and what it could lead to.

He grabbed at her upper arms, gripping the soft flesh tightly in his strong hands. A trace of fear flitted across her face and she tried to pull away, but he was far far stronger and he held her firmly.

They were gazing intently at each others' faces now: the sound of heavy breathing all that could be heard in the small room. Her eyes filled with slow tears at the pain from his hold, brimming over till the drops ran down her cheeks, smudging the makeup.

At this sign of vulnerability Tom pulled her closer to him forgetting the strangeness of their situation until he felt the hot pressure of her breasts against his chest. Sascha, too, was affected by the sensation of his shirt grazing her swollen and sensitive nipples.

Swiftly her tongue flicked out and licked her lips as she took a quick gasp of air in and Tom was lost.

The heat of her body on his and the sight of that sharp, pink tongue caressing her full lips utterly confounded him and before he could control his reaction he had bent his head to hers and pressed his rough, male mouth against those wet, pink lips.

Sascha tried to pull away at this assault on her mouth, but Tom only pulled her closer to him. The taste of her was overwhelming and, with his eyes closed, he could ignore how wrong this thing was that he was doing.

Sascha, who had never been kissed before, was distraught and struggled hard to get away from the savage lips and probing tongue that assailed her now. It wasn't long, though, before the rough sexuality of the sensation overtook her and her natural constraints.

Just like the previous evening a heat began to build inside her, that squirming, tugging feeling that drags all the physical senses to the fore, squashing conscience and judgment into the recesses of the mind until they spring forth in the post-coital anti-climax.

This is what happened to her now. Reason, sanity, logic: all flew out of the window as her body sent urgent signals requiring release and satisfaction from whatever source.

Instantly her body became limp and compliant, allowing itself to be pressed full-length against Tom's. She could feel the hard proof of his desire now and her head spun with the intoxicating power of desire and being desirable.

Their lips moved against each other and tongues entwined in mutual exploration. His hands released their hold on her arms now, sliding down her body to encircle her waist as she put her arms about his neck.

Tom was unquestionably in control now. Deftly he manouveured Sascha over to the bed where he pushed her back and lay down on top of her, his weight holding her pinned like a butterfly; legs spread to accommodate his hips.

Her fingers plucked futilely at his shirt while he ground his lips and body against her, forcing her to submit to him and his desires. She lost herself in the urgency of the sensations, responding willingly and fully to Tom's furious onslaught.

The flesh of her buttocks was being squeezed mercilessly by his hands and the course fabric of his clothing made the insides of her thighs pink from the friction. Sascha's attempts to remove his shirt finally resulted in success when Tom reached up and pulled it roughly off and the bare skin of their bodies met.

Sascha whimpered at the feel of his warm, lightly-haired chest against her sensitive breasts whilst he revelled in the hot, soft pressure of her skin. He paused for a second now, caressing the curve of her waist and the swell at her hip, looking into her dazed, green eyes as he kissed her more gently and deeply.

They both slowed down now, savouring the sensation of skin on skin, the downy angles of her jaw, the rounded muscle of his shoulder. Every inch was kissed, touched and appreciated. When Sascha slid her hands under his waistband to hold the cool globes of his buttocks in her hot hands both of them sighed and pressed their hips closer together.

He stood up to take off the last of his clothing, slowly revealing the thick, swollen length of his cock as it nestled in the dark hair between his legs. The sight of Sascha, sprawled promiscuously on the bed, arms and legs outspread, her pussy pink and wet, the grotesque black boots only enhancing her nakedness made his cock twitch and leap.

Any twinges of conscience or morals were utterly forgotten now as he looked down on the eager, wanton woman waiting for him on the bed. It didn't matter who she was -- she was sexy as hell and she wanted him and nothing was going to stop him from taking his satisfaction.

He took a step towards the bed, standing over her, surveying the mounds and hollows of her body. Her chest rose and fell with the rapid, panting breaths she took, making her tits quiver deliciously.

The experience of being completely naked and completely open to someone else's gaze was shocking and exciting to Sascha, it was like watching herself in the mirror last night, only with the added heat of another's desire being reflected back at you. She longed for the touch of his hands on her body again, wanted him to touch the burning spot at her centre that had sprung into such vivid life.

He knelt, now, running the stubbled surface of his jaw along the tender flesh of her inner thigh, making her moan. Softly he breathed hot air over her bare and pulsing pussy, flicking lightly at the velvet soft lips with his tongue.

The moisture was seeping more insistently from her folds now, oozing out in honeyed drops that he gathered on his finger before pressing his finger to her lips. The musky taste of herself on his roughened finger was strange and exciting, whilst the hot, wet embrace of her mouth on his finger pushed him over the edge.

He surged up and bore down on her with all his weight, thrusting his cock straight into her wet and pulsing cunt. The virgin tightness of her and the squeal of surprise and fear that she let out thrilled him and he dug his fingers into her hip so he could control his thrusting even more.

Her pussy was engorged now, stretched as wide as it would go around his thick cock. Every wriggle and tremor heightened his pleasure and the scared face of his sister looking up at him as he drove his cock into her was almost too much.

Licking his thumb he placed it against the hard little nub of her clit, holding it firm as he maintained momentum. The tingling friction of this, combined with the pleasure-pain of his large cock in her tight little pussy had its effect on Sascha now.

From the fear and betrayal she had felt moments before at Tom's selfish rape of her body emerged a strange pleasure, part physical, part emotional from the humiliation and fright. Slowly she arched her back, pushing her hips up so Tom could enter her more fully.

As his thrusts grew deeper she bucked her hips in unison with him, fucking him back. She wrapped her legs around his waist, the soft leather cool against his skin. Her tits trembled as her body was thrust back and forwards. Both of them were breathing heavily now, then moaning and grunting.

"Oh God, Oh God, Oh God," Sascha started calling as that irresistible wave of heat pulsed out from her centre, washing over her and rendering her completely insensible to the volume of her calls. Her pussy constricted and throbbed around the hard length of Tom's cock, dragging him with her into orgasm.

His mouth opened and his eyes shut as he tilted his head backwards with a hoarse, "ohhhhhhhh," that was almost inaudible.

With a sticky sound he pulled his cock out, leaving a viscous trail of liquid connecting him to Sascha.

She whimpered as he withdrew, her pussy feeling void and bereft without him inside it.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, his eyes filling with tears before running from the room.

Sascha stayed prone on the bed, spread-eagled, flushed, almost naked except for the long, black leather boots, semen smeared between her legs.

"Why?" she asked softly, as the door swung shut behind him and her eyes filled with tears.