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Mason Page's first adventure.
Instead, he teased me as his response, sliding the tip of his meaty shaft along my sex, spreading my natural lubrication. He also spanked me a few times, increasing the warmth below my hips.
When my forbidden lover finally entered my body, it was slow and cautious, respectful and loving. Once he was fully sheathed within me, his hands slid up my tank top, gliding along my skin en route to my chest. Cupping my breasts, he hauled me upward until my back was against his chest, then began to move within me. Through my tank top, I placed my hands over his, causing him to squeeze my feminine swells as his thrusts slowly increased in speed and force.
Just as I was mewing like a kitten, his hands retracted from inside my tank top, and he pushed me back down to my hands and knees again upon the bed. Gripping my hips, he became more rough with me, turning from romantic to lustful.
"Take me hard!" I pleaded between moans of delight, and he complied. His fingernails dug into my hips as he took control of my body, slamming me back into him as he rutted into me. We were soon both grunting rather loudly, and I was definitely sweating inside the tank top, but I did not care. Yet even as the copulation continued, a small part of my mind was still trying to calculate what my big brother had in mind with this particular scenario.
A hand left my hip, then found my clitoris. "Yes!" I squealed as his fingers began to deftly toy with my sensitive bud, and what little control I had began to erode rapidly. Between the repeated filling of my sex and the incredible sensations firing outward from my clitoris and the swaying of my breasts beneath me and the fact that my own big brother was the one causing the passion within me to rise so rapidly, I knew that I would soon scream for him.
His other hand left my hip, and suddenly my head was being pulled backward by my hair. It was definitely uncomfortable, not painful, but it added yet another layer of delight to the prohibited encounter. My squeals and moans and grunts ever louder, I backed against him with ferocious need, wondering just how long I could hold back my loving deluge before the dam of my willpower finally broke.
Just as the dam splintered apart and my voice rang out in the bedroom, I felt myself shoved forward onto my stomach, and suddenly my body was empty. I screamed into a pillow, humping the bed furiously, not fully comprehending the fact - or even wondering why - I no longer felt any tactile contact with my big brother, even though I could still sense his presence and his love.
Calmed at last, I lifted my head and looked around to find myself alone in the bedroom. My clothes definitely were sticking to me, making me feel somewhat uncomfortable. Slowly, I rose from the bed, and looked at myself in the mirror on the inside of the closet door, noting the visible damp spots of sweat upon my front, especially around my chest. My face was still flushed, and my hair was not what one would expect from a "good girl." The scent of sex was definitely noticeable, but I was uncertain if it was simply because I was in the bedroom or if that scent was emanating heavily from me.
Still baffled by the entire situation, I decided to demand some answers from my forbidden lover, and found him in the living room, now wearing shorts as he set out plates and cups on the table. "You look like you've just been fucked," he noted aloud with a definite smile and a glimmer of wickedness in his eyes.
"If I look that way, it's because you did this to me!" I stepped up behind him and pressed myself against him, wrapping my arms around his chest. As I kissed his back between the shoulder blades, I could taste the dried sweat and smell the scent of sex upon him.
"Why didn't you cum inside me like you usually do?" I asked. "And also, why did you want me wearing such a specific outfit this time? Do you have some new type of fetish or something that I should know about?"
"No," he replied, avoiding my first two questions.