“We can’t” I gasp. Conor grins again, not even slightly perturbed.
“Why not?” he whispers back.
“Are you kidding?!” I hiss at him. “Our parents are in the next room! We’re about to become step siblings!”
“It’s not like we’re really related,” Conor shrugs. “Who cares?” And he comes closer again, licking his lips. His hands are on my tits, groping while grazing my nipples with his thumbs. He groans into my neck. To my horror I can feel my body responding to him with desperate need.
But this can’t happen.
“Conor, stop,” I hiss again, and wrench myself free. “Please. It’s too weird.”
I’m sliding away, but suddenly, his hand is on mine.
“Carrie, don’t you want this?” he whispers as his other hand cups the giant bulge in his jeans. My eyes bug, insides going instantly hot. I do, I really, really do. He can see it in my eyes.
“Conor, don’t make me ask again,” I say in a low voice.
“Then don’t,” he grins. I avert my eyes from his jeans, where the long ridge is now visibly outlined along his pelvis. Somehow it’s even hotter to see it hidden like that. Forbidden. Like the rest of my lust for him.
“I popped your cherry, Carrie,” he whispers teasingly, coming closer, his hand running up and down his cock, stroking it through the material of his pants. “You told me over and over yesterday as I fucked you from behind,” he whispers, lips by my hear. “And do you remember what I said?”
I moan slightly, eyes closing as that massive form cups me from behind.
“I do,” is my breathless whisper. “I remember.”
Suddenly, his hands are tense on my shoulders, that breath hot on my cheek.
“Then say it,” he rasps in my ear. “Say what I taught you.”
Oh god, I shouldn’t, and yet I can’t disobey.
“I’m yours,” is my helpless mewl. “My pussy belongs to you.” A moan escapes my lips, and I immediately press them shut, hoping desperately that it wasn’t loud. Conor’s kissing my neck now, and then he’s down on his knees, his head burying under my dress. Suddenly Mom comes in. Oh shit! What do we do now?
I’ve just thrust my head under her dress when I hear Elaine’s voice from the other side of the kitchen. I momentarily freeze, then realize that from where she’s standing, the counter is blocking her view of Carrie from the waist down. A savage enjoyment burns inside me.
“Where’s Conor?” I hear Elaine’s muffled question.
“H-he’s in the bathroom,” I hear Carrie stammer above me. My face level with her pussy, I lower her panties with one finger. I feel the beautiful brunette tense up even as the smell of female cunt grows stronger.
“Oh ok,” burbles Elaine. “What’s taking you so long with that cake, sweetheart?”
“I, um,” Carrie mumbles. “I was just finding a better, um, knife.” I press my face against her pussy, letting my tongue run along her clit, tasting her. Carrie tenses even more.
“I’ll be – be – be right in, Mom.”
There’s silence for a second before Elaine’s voice comes again.
“What is with you today, sweetheart?” she asks before lowering her voice. “Are you nervous about having a new family?”
I bring my mouth to Carrie’s clit and suck on it gently. I hear her suppress a whimper above me and smile to myself as I continue my labor of love. My hard cock is painful in my jeans and I wish I could feel Carrie’s mouth around it.
“N-no, not at all,” stammer Carrie.
“Are you sure? First you don’t eat a bite, now you take forever to cut some cake,” says Elaine, her voice concerned. If only Mrs. Johnson knew. Licking at her daughter’s clit, I slip a finger into her folds. Like a good girl, she’s drenched. Carrie jumps, and then coughs to camouflage the movement.
“M-maybe I’m coming down with something. Maybe I should go to bed,” she manages.
“Alright sweetie, but not until after they’ve left,” says Elaine. “Can you hold on until then?”
“Sure Mom,” Carrie wheezes.
“Good girl,” replies Elaine, and I hear her heels clacking out of the kitchen as her conversation with Dad resumes in the living room. My mouth still on Carrie’s creaming pussy, when the material of her dress around my head is suddenly yanked away. I’m looking up into Carrie’s furious face.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she hisses, and I allow her to pull me up by my shirt.
“Baby, you’re so hot when you’re mad,” I growl quietly, and I mean it. The milkiness of her skin is flushed with rage, her normally soft eyes flashing with a mixture of lust and anger.
“Stop it, Conor! Are you trying to make me come while I’m having a conversation with my mom?!”
“It’s not my fault she came in,” I joke, my cock still throbbing inside my jeans.
“We’re in the kitchen! What’s wrong with you?” she hisses desperately at me. “Can’t we do this somewhere more private?”