Chelsea Rising Ch. 02

"What would you want in return?"

I grasped his cock. It was tumescent, thick and angry, swinging like an industrial hose. "How about this?"

"Fair trade." He thought about it for a moment. "I think we ought to try them out first though - you know, to make sure that it's a fair deal."

"Right." I turned off the water and we dried ourselves on a fluffy white towel. He scooped me up and carried me back to the bed. There was a large wet spot from our earlier efforts and he laid me gently on a fresh patch.

"Can you imagine what these sheets will look like in a fortnight?" he said.

I laughed. "Crispy biscuits."

He nodded. "We'll crack and crackle every time we roll over in bed." I felt his hands on my knees, opening them gently, and then he knelt between them, bending forwards, his head disappearing between my thighs. He kissed the insides of my legs, his lips warm and wet, moving over the soft satin skin towards my pussy. I could feel my juices flowing already and my labia swelled, folding back so that my pussy was open like a succulent flower ready to be plucked.

"God, you make me hot," I whispered. "I want you so much."

He didn't respond - his mouth moved slowly to the soft skin at the very top of my thigh, to the little hollow just below the swell of my pudenda. His tongue flickered there, teasing and titillating, drawing a fresh ooze of moisture from my cunt before moving over the crease of my perineum. I could feel the rasp of his beard on my thighs and the hot whisper of his breath against me.

I was groaning now, my voice husky with lust. "God, Ben. Don't tease - eat it....put your tongue into me - I'm so wet -"

His lips moved to my labia and nibbled at them. He drew them into his mouth, soft and wet, and he sucked lightly to draw the cream off them. His eyes were closed like a connoisseur tasting the finest liqueurs, and his hands were under my thighs, drawing them apart so that he could reach deeper. I sat up and watched him as his tongue flicked over me, dipping and delving to sip at the oozing nectar. He curled the tip to catch my juices, scooping them up, coating his tongue and lips in a silver sheen. I trembled under his touch, my body twitching each time he lapped at me, my torso lifting to press against his mouth. His face was wet now, his lips and chin shining with my juice and he burrowed into me.

"Ben, Ben! Stop now....don't - don't." I pulled at him. "Come into me. I want all of you inside me."

He rolled onto his back and I climbed onto him, holding his shaft vertically with my fingers, lowering myself onto the bulbous, swollen head. I liked it this way as I could see us fucking; watch as his member forced aside the lips of my cunt to burrow into me, to observe the long slow slide of his shaft into my body. He was massively excited again and I wondered how my cunt could accommodate him, but it did: the flesh sliding and stretching around his shaft until he was buried inside me and there was nothing outside left to see.

For a few seconds I sat astride him without moving, anchored to his body by the rod inside me; and then I began to undulate my hips in a gentle circular motion. The hot winds of lust that had seen us rutting on the bed a few minutes before had passed, at least for the moment, and I was suffused instead with a softer desire. Up to this moment it was always he who had fucked me, although I had been a willing participant. Now it was time for me to take him, to draw his essence into my body as I wanted, on my terms.

He began to move under me, and I spoke softly to him. "No Ben, lie still. Let me fuck you," and he settled back on the mattress to watch as I crouched above him.

It was as if our mother had fashioned each of us in her womb with the knowledge that one day we would fuck one another. The size and breadth of his cock and the angle that it sat from his body was perfect for the shape of my pussy. I rode him in long, slow strokes, lifting myself up on my thighs until he was barely inside me, my labia trembling on the thick, swollen tip of his prick - and then I sank down, slowly at first, exalting in the stretch of my flesh around him, the bubbling of my juices and the feeling of fullness each time he lanced up inside me. I rolled my hips forward, undulating on him, changing the angle of my body so that he rubbed against different parts of me. My cunt was streaming, my juices leaking around his shaft to dribble over his balls, and I could hear the little sucking noises of our fucking.

And as I rode him I suddenly thought of all that had happened over the last few months - my struggle to accept him, my doubts and fears, and then the dreadful business with Mum and my brother, and poor Dad - a husk of what he used to be. As my brother's cock speared into me the images sped through my mind, like a movie playing at top speed - a jumble of memories and emotions, juxtaposed one on another in a disjointed collage of chaos and pain.

And then, like an old fashioned film at the end of its reel, it ended, and I came out of the darkness and into the sun. It was as if all that had happened was harnessed in that thin strip of celluloid - memories to mourn in my own time, but no longer a source of sadness. The room brightened, light flooding in through the shutters, and my senses were heightened as if a dark filter had been lifted from my consciousness. I could feel my pussy clasping him, the gentle fluttering of my labia as they rasped over his shaft; the little ridges on his prick rubbing against my trembling flesh and the stretch of his glans as it thrust into me. Deep inside me I could feel the flow of my juices accelerate, oozing from the walls of my cunt to bathe his shaft, and I could sense the steady beat of his heart through the turgid flesh of his cock.

There was a roaring in my ears as if a great wind had seized me, sweeping me up into the firmament and blotting out the sun so that only the stars remained, burning brightly in my brain. My vulva contracted to grip him more tightly, and my cunt seemed to undulate along his shaft, drawing it deeper into my body. In the turmoil of tumbling sound and light I heard myself cry out, a long shriek of ecstasy, and I felt a splattering of juice against my thighs as I came.

With a guttural cry Ben spurted, his cock jolting and twitching as the sperm burst from his body to bathe my clenching cunt. I leaned forward and put my hands on the rubbery muscle of his chest and I milked him with powerful contractions of my loins, drawing his seed out of him like a vacuum, sucking it into the secret depths of my body, reveling in my power as I writhed on the twitching figure underneath me.

And after a long time the storm of our passion passed and we lay side by side, my head on his shoulder. The soft light of evening was stealing in through the shutters and the first sounds of the night could be heard.

He pressed his lips to my temple and kissed me gently, and I was content. It was as if all that had happened was a dream, and the only constant in my life was here, in this bed with me, and my soul was filled with peace.

*****

Author's note.

It's nice to have a happy ending sometimes, and you can be assured that Chelsea and Ben live a fulfilling and joyful life - although, like any couple, they will doubtless have their ups and downs - made harder by their secret, and the fact that William is still at large. Perhaps I'll write another chapter one day, particularly if I get enough feedback.

I'd be obliged if you take a moment to leave a comment.

Sister.

(c) November 2010. Not to be reproduced in whole or in part without the express permission of the author.