Matt Daniels - Honeymoon Orgy

And then, when it was over, she could still hear the sounds from outside. Weren't they ever going to stop! She wanted to close the window, shut out the noises, but she knew she couldn't walk over and do it, that she'd have to look, and that if she looked… Jo crawled under her covers, sobbing like a baby, and she covered her head with the pillow. And still those sounds hammered upon her eardrums, penetrating the pillow's shield the way Jim's cock must be penetrating Lisa's cunt. She rocked and tossed until a fitful, dream-haunted sleep stole upon her. It seemed to take hours, but her body finally fell, leaden, into the sea of slumber.

She spent a lousy night, the rottenest of her life. Her dreams were almost nightmares, sexual nightmares. She was with Jim on the beach. They were fucking gloriously, the way she'd watched him and his wife on the beach. Except he was mounting Jo, from the rear, too, really giving her the dick, and he leaned close to kiss her on the side of the face. It was his cock ramming in and out of her, sending messages of delight from her pussy to her brain, and even as she understood she felt herself beginning to come, to come like a bandit, her body shaking and writhing under him, and he could feel it too because he stepped up his fucking and speared her with his tool and she couldn't stop, she could only lie there and weep and buck and climax, again and again.

She awoke from that dream with a cry of panic, but she was alone in her bed and the house was as silent as a grave. It was early, she knew, because there was only a chilly looking gray light outside. Jo closed her eyes, sank onto the bed again, and sleep came stealing back. Her dreams were no more pleasant, but at least she didn't awake until the alarm rang.

Jo lay for a long time after the alarm had sounded. Her first class wasn't until almost noon anyway. In a way she was glad she had decided to take the art class this summer. It kept her occupied, kept her mind busy on form and depths and color and detail.

She wondered if she had made the right move, coming to live with her brother and his wife, after the tragic accident that took both parents. Sometimes she felt like an intruder, yet both Jim and Lisa treated her in an off-hand friendly way, showing clearly that they did want her, and that they enjoyed her company.

Later that day, after Jo had returned from her art class, she set up the easel in the living room so she could get better light. Her brother Jim was at work and she knew his wife Lisa was somewhere about, probably out walking on the beach picking up shells, her favorite pastime.

A noise interrupted Jo and when Lisa walked in, Jo sucked in her breath. She felt a certain madness crawling through her veins. There was no history of insanity in the family, but she knew that she was on the verge of setting the precedent. She was so close to Lisa she could smell the salt water that still clung to the woman, and even more powerful, Lisa's own natural body oils and odors. They were sweet, like rolling in a garden of fragrant flowers, and Jo felt her head beginning to roll, too. Her vision misted, as if heat shimmers were surrounding her on every side, and time after time she willed her nervous hand not to reach out, smooth the tangles from Lisa's golden hair. The skin, oh, God, the skin. Smooth, tanned, with little bubbles of water decorating it. Her hand twitched and she wanted to crawl under a rock, join a nunnery, stick her head in the sand, anything, anything to get away.

"How was your class?" Lisa asked, still standing dose and still looking at the blank canvas on the easel. "Know what you're going to paint?"

"Uh, no," Jo managed to stammer.

"Were you ever interested in doing a female nude?"

Jo reddened visibly. "I, uh, yes, I guess so."

"Why don't you paint me? We have plenty of free time during the day. And I'd like to give it to Jim if you want to do one of me." Lisa whirled about, then asked, "You interested in using me as a model?" She shifted her weight from one leg to the other, back and forth, and her hips moved inside the towel that appeared to be her only garment. Jo watched the rise and fall of those ripe haunches and she wanted to turn away, but she couldn't will herself to do it. Not even when she remembered last night, the way Lisa had responded to Jim on the beach. It couldn't do anything but increase the passion Jo felt at just that moment.

"I, uh, I don't know… " Jo heard herself saying. "I, maybe I… "

Lisa turned, green eyes sparkling like emeralds. "I'd really dig modeling, I think. And I bet you could really make me look good. "

Jo nodded.

"Oh wow!" Lisa said delightedly. She hurried around, stood beyond the easel, golden hair glowing in the sunlight. "I guess you want to see how I look without my clothes. huh?" she added, and the towel dropped in a flurry at her feet.

She stood naked, tits lifting as she breathed, and Jo began to moan while her eyes seemed to blur and mist and her fingers clenched tightly on the brush she held, so tightly that the brush handle snapped in two and both pieces fell to the ground. Lisa cupped her lush full tits from beneath, and she held them as if in offering. The nipples were pink and rigid, big round nipples with fat thick teats set squarely at their centers, and those nipples stared at Jo like earnest pink eyes. Her legs were slightly parted, and the glorious puff of her shaven cunt was on full display. Jo could see the reddish-pink of the crease, could even see the tiny inner lips framed in the slash, demure hints of the sweetness and pleasure that lurked a little deeper within.

"Stop it," Jo whispered. "For the love of Christ, stop it."

Still cupping her tits, Lisa stepped a pace or two toward Jo. "Don't you want to paint me?" she asked, a stray wet lock of hair fallen across her smooth forehead, gold hair against gold skin. "Or would you rather fool around a little?" She let go of her tits and went around the easel. Jo turned, and Lisa's hand stretched out. Jo took that hand in her own and, together, the two girls walked out the door and into the ankle-high grass that dotted the bluff overlooking the cove.

Lisa was shorter than Jo, and she had to stand on tiptoes to kiss Jo, and when she did her lush full tits rubbed arousal and invitation onto Jo's chest. Jo moaned into the mouth that covered her own and she embraced Lisa, hands racing down the girl's bare body. She cupped Lisa's buttocks, squeezed, marveled at the taut, springy, resilient flesh. Warm flesh, smooth flesh, still wet from the ocean. She pinched off tiny rolls of baby fat, felt them glide beneath her probing, seeking fingers. Lisa sighed and wriggled against Jo, and it was a dream come true. God, it was only a dream! Jo tried to tell herself. None of this was happening! A perky, frisky tongue slipped into Jo's mouth, played like a puppy, and Jo knew that this was no dream sensation. It was real, dear Jesus, it was real and it was happening! To her! To Jonelle Davis! She clasped Lisa's ass and ground her body against the older blonde's, giving full rein to her passion and lust.

They sank onto the grass, still kissing and touching. Jo felt hands on her breasts, hands that caressed the outline of her tits through the close shirt she wore, hands that wouldn't be content with caresses, that had to slip inside. Her buttons loosened. Lisa's fingers touched the bare trembling flesh of her tits. Her nipples were stiff and the older woman's fingers found them in no time, began to squeeze the sensitive little tips in rhythmic, knowing fashion.

Lisa's tongue retreated and she rolled over onto her back. Jo moved up, taking the initiative. Her shirt came loose. She fought free of it, came down upon Lisa bare to the waist, and there was an electric shock as her naked tits came into contact with Lisa's. Four stiff nipples, four eager tits. And a mouth that was only too willing to accept Jo's tongue, to suck it happily while lips and tits rubbed together and excitement roared like a blast furnace inside Jo's hungry body.