Page 78 of Obsession


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When she pulls away, to stand there in front of me with those beautiful, innocent looking eyes that belong to a girl that seems to be anything but, I can’t help but lean in and kiss her.

I kiss her slowly, silently, my tongue making all the noise my voice isn’t allowed to, and then I bite her lip in the way she likes to bite it herself, just to show her she is mine, before she turns around, places her hands against the wall and pushes me away with her upturned ass, to show she doesn’t mind if I want to make that statement even clearer.

I love this view of a girl, but on Tilly it is absolutely spectacular. She’s a beautiful girl, both naked and with her clothes on, from in front and behind, looking down on her sucking my dick, looking up as she glows in orgasmic delight.

I push her legs a little wider apart, run my fingers slowly over her inner thigh and part her lips with my middle finger.

She is wet, ready, very horny and unable to endure me for very long before pushing me away again.

I get a warning glare to which I have to hold my hands up, before trying again with my tongue. As long as I stay away from her clit, Tilly seems to be able to support it. I run my tongue inside her pussy hole and trace the form of her vagina in an attempt to memorize it, should the opportunity to repeat what we are doing now, never arise again.

I am aware that the longer we take to reach our goal, the higher the chance of getting caught, but the slower we are, the less likely we are to make a sound. If we were alone in the house, I wouldn’t be approaching things like this, but because we aren’t, it makes things even more exciting.

I love the fact that Tilly is just as game as I am to do this. I know she has a fairly low opinion of me based on what she has read, and perhaps as a direct result of that, a low opinion of herself for finding me irresistible.

I’m not the person that she reads about in the papers though, and my public persona is completely different from my private one. I like girls, and I like fucking, ninety nine percent of the population do, it’s genetic and essential for our survival and sense of well being. What I also like, however, and what doesn’t come across in those tabloid stories, is the fact that I also like to build up a connection with someone because I think, over time, sex gets more enjoyable because of it.

Call that what you like. Some people call it love, some people call it experience, some people just call it familiarity. One night stands are all good and well and sometimes relationships don’t develop past that point. Sometimes the sex after the first time isn’t as good and that’s usually because of the connection between the two people. If the sex gets better every time, it’s usually a good sign that something is working, and in my opinion, that’s worth spending a bit of time developing, regardless of the difficulties or the complications that might surround it.

Everything can be worked out. Food poisoning, broken legs, lying women, stepsiblings, fucking several feet away from your parents, even when your stepmother gets up to go to the bathroom which is behind the wall you currently have her daughter pinned against.

My heart stops. Tilly freezes. Her body goes rigid.

She looks over her shoulder, her face twisted in panic, to which all I can do is press a finger against my lips and beg she doesn’t make a sound. Her pussy is throbbing, my cock inches away from it, ready to slide inside her. This was not part of the plan.

Rachel coughs. Rachel adjusts the seat and then Rachel begins to piss, a slow trickle that turns into a torrent.

She is only a metre or so away from us, close enough that we could reach out and holds hands if the wall wasn’t there.

If we were asleep it would wake us up. She coughs to try and hide the noise, but the damage is already done. When I see Tilly’s body shaking, her ribs going up and down, it takes me a while to realize she’s trying as hard as she can not to laugh. The last thing I need her to do is turn around and check my status, because as soon as she does, it becomes almost impossible for me not to follow suit. Holding in my excitement is hard enough, holding in a laugh as well is like trying to breath underwater.

The whole thing lasts for way longer than it should do. After the torrent comes a trickle, the rattle of the tissue paper holder, the seat going back down, the flush, and finally the water tap - at which point Tilly and I risk the quick release of our trapped giggles - before Rachel returns to her room.

When we are sure that she isn’t going to come back out again, we both breathe a huge sigh of relief.

Tilly straightens back up again and for a horrible moment I feel like we’ve missed our opportunity.

“You better fuck me quickly before Mom comes back out again. If I can hold in a laugh, I’m going to try my best and hold in an orgasm.”

“Are you sure we should?” I whisper, already turning her around to fold back against the wall.

“Just don’t put a hole in the wall.”

The first time with Tilly was incredible. First times are often a weird mix of a bunch of different negative and positive emotions, but with Tilly, it was absolutely extraordinary in a way that left me sated and desperate for more in equal measure. I had every reason to believe that Dad would be out of action for at least a week with the symptoms he presented this morning, that I expected Tilly and I to have a huge amount of time alone to explore each other, develop a bond, if that was going to happen, and generally cut through the sexual tension that has been hanging around us both like a cloud since day one. When I saw Dad appear on the decking, I thought our chances were over. I never imagined I’d be fucking her against the wall of this bedroom with our parents only metres away, because I didn’t think Tilly had it in her to admit so blatantly that she wanted it.

But that’s exactly what she has done. She’s engineered a perfectly legitimate reason for being in here, dared herself to accept the possibility that something irresistible might arise as a direct result of that decision, and then go for it, with seemingly reckless abandon, carefree and uninhibited.

I’m still nervous that we might get caught. There is no backing out now, and I absolutely wouldn’t want to anyway, but as I spread her legs, guide my cock to the edge of her pussy hole and feed myself inside her, silently and fully, the possibility of this being ruined sits at the back of my mind.

What I lack from her in sound is made up by the rhythms of the muscles of her pussy, the way her whole body reacts to the gentle thrusts I give as I guide myself deeply inside her, the sweat that bobbles along her spine, the sweet smell of desire as she gives herself over to me.

I’ve never fucked in this way before, so quietly we can hear each other’s hearts beating. With a gentle flick of her wrist in an action I understand the meaning of immediately, she commands me to grip her hips tightly, her back arched up to form a dip between her ass and her neck, her tits pushed forwards towards the wall and her pussy driven back to encourage me that extra, all important, bit deeper.

I let my hand wander from time to time, along her spine, underneath me towards her clit, up to squeeze her neck or to tug her hair, and then let it find its way slowly back to her hip, where I grip tightly until the skin there pinches white, and I continue my slow and deep fucking, her pussy wetter every time, the contractions of her muscles closer together, her whole body more sensitive.

We are giving ourselves over to each other, and the knowledge of that is not escaping me. She’s in control, or I am, or we both are or neither of us are, but it doesn’t matter, this is a fuck like no other I’ve ever had, a fuck completely unlike the one earlier.

The first time we fucked was an exploration of one another, a release of pent up desire and secret crushes, this is something completely different and I know we both feel the importance of it. If a bond is going to form between us, this is where it starts.

I knew she was dangerous, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep myself away from her, perhaps she thinks the same about me.

She’s getting close. I can tell by the way she’s moving her body, the way her skin trembles when I touch it, the glint in her eye when she dares herself to look back at me.

One single noise tha

t sounds like anything that shouldn’t come from this room and we are fucked in more ways than one. Our families, my career, this vacation, even something as simple as meal times would be an exercise in awkwardness. But then there’s this. There’s Tilly. Driving me absolutely wild beyond reason.

We can’t fuck, it’s going to be impossible, but I guess impossible isn’t always part of the plan.

I’m not sure if she comes first or I do. I like to think we come together, my breath forced out in short sharp bursts so as to remain as silent as possible, her body immediately sensitive as soon as she’s gone past the point of no return. If we make noise, it’s so unbelievably quiet that I either miss it entirely or am so deeply consumed by an orgasm that ends up sending me to my knees that I miss it completely.

I come while she comes, and I’m still coming when Tilly pulls away from me, the sensitivity too overwhelming and likely to make her explode in a volley of noise if I stay inside her.

I can barely catch my breath, while Tilly takes just as long to peel herself off the wall and turn around, the aftershocks of the orgasm ripping through her so much her body jerks and shivers uncontrollably, her back rippling like a startled snake.

I rock from my knees onto my ass, and sit there for a moment contemplating her, while I try and regulate my heartbeat, my cock still throbbing and refusing to go down. That was, quite simply and without putting it mildly, one of the most enjoyable fucks I’ve ever had in my life.

Finally Tilly gathers herself enough to turn around. With her lower lip caught between her teeth, one leg crossed over the other and leaned against the wall, she begins to shake her head, a huge smile dominating her reddening face.

“Can’t.”

I mouth the word slowly, unable to stop smiling myself.

Tilly has to concentrate hard not to begin to laugh.

“Ass-hole”, she mouths back. “Fucking ass-hole.”

We stay like that for a while, me sat down, Tilly leaned against the wall, both of us trying to catch our breath while laughter fights to take it away from us. When we’ve settled down enough and the time seems right, we make our way over to the bed.

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