Eileen Over - Eager To Bed Bunny

Louise leaned to press her pelvis into his groin. "No, no, you've got to go and buy flowers for your intended."

"Can't we step into a hotel for a quickie?"

She took his arm, walking with him in the downpour, her delicious hindquarters swinging. His thoughts were filled with sex. Her walk, so fluid, excited him tremendously, keeping him hard.

There were stops, too many to suit him, in Harrod's department store on Brompton Road, then across the street at Scotch House, further down at Harvey Nichol's; and all the while they were two hot animals, clothing sticking to their skin, carrying too many parcels.

"Do you feel any guilt about us?"

"I do," he admitted, "a terrible guilt, but you disturb me so sexually that all I can think about is fucking you."

"Well, with her around I don't think there's going to be a chance." Louise hailed a taxi and as it pulled to the curb she promised Hugh, "It's not over with us yet, not altogether, and maybe we can wring one more screw out of the deal."

He walked off in the rain, his hands now free of all packages, thinking how it had to be over between him and his sister. There had not been a minute's worth of conversation, just hours of screwing.

Ahh shit, now he had to go buy flowers and get his sister off his mind. His fiancйe was a beauty, equally shapely, and maybe if he pitched in right away with her, got things going between them in bed, that would end the deal with Louise.

Clutching the bouquet of flowers, Hugh left his car, ran through the slanting rain and entered the apartment building, swinging his arms, shaking the wet from his clothing. He rode the elevator in a nervous state, fearing that some sign in his place could be picked up by Jennifer as a clue. Louise probably wouldn't talk, but could he count on that? How well did he know his sister other than to say that she was a fantastic lay?

He opened the door on an apartment blanketed by shadows. Down the hall a woman awaited him. He mouthed the name, Jennifer. No, this girl was bigger, heavier. It was his sister, glossy-haired, lusty – bodied, offering a smile.

"Jennifer arrived a few minutes ago; she's inside."

He just stood there, the flowers dangling from his wet hand, watching his sister shift her weight from one leg to the other, flaunting her sumptuous body. Her hair was twisted in coils about her head, her eyes slanted, her nostrils flared and that luscious mouth shone too sensuously.

Louise leaned forward, offering him that mouth and a sharp-tasting tongue, and the promises to avoid her went flying. Automatically, it seemed, his free hand reached to grab one of those bowl – shaped breasts. But she was already twisting away.

"Later. Not now!"

He moved after her, inhaling the strong perfume lingering in her wake, eyeing the swinging, always provocative rump.

Every lamp in the living room was on, and the change from darkness was so abrupt that he threw up a hand to shield his eyes. Louise seized the chance to increase his excitement by peppering his face with hot kisses.

"Crissakes," he hissed, "cut it out! What're you trying to do, plant evidence for her?"

"No, just warming you up so that tonight you'll show her a damned good time." She strolled off, leaving him with a rising erection.

He moved about in nervous silence, fighting the urge to flee the trouble building up in his own house. If Jennifer ever found out! God!

Marrying Jennifer was a mistake, he knew, one hell of a mistake. A pretty girl, decent, educated, certainly intelligent; but man, had she been frigid! He remembered previous occasions when, mistaking the warmth in her eyes, he had palmed her breasts. Once she had even allowed him to remove her brassiere. The sight of her naked boobs had roused him into stiffness. Jennifer had a healthy pair, but, covered, they seemed to be a handful, nothing more. It struck him that she had deliberately bound them, flattened them, seeking to reduce their enormity. But were those things big! Even that time he had been allowed only a pinch of her nipples; then the brassiere was drawn up to hide the wealth of those unbelievable mounds from his sight.

"Hugh!"

In the few seconds before they embraced he studied the girl he would marry. Twenty-six years old, with slick dark hair, cut short to her ears, violet eyes set wide apart, a retroussй nose, a round dimpled chin and a generous mouth. Her flawless skin, normally ivory-white, was now tanned olive. Her figure, though slender, was long and perfectly proportioned. The breasts were surprisingly big, the hips rounded, the buttocks compact, and the legs long, full-calved. Now, as usual, she wore a loose-fitting sweater to mask the size of her bosom. But the tight skirt revealed the very girlish waist and tightly curved bottom.

Then she was in his arms, breathless and eager, her mouth soft and sweet, the fragrance of her skin refreshing. Somehow Hugh knew it was going to be all right. At least he hoped it would be all right.

This time when he pulled her to him his hand sought her breasts. He encompassed one of the huge globes and-he drew in his breath. She was not wearing a bra! Nor did she show any inclination to pull away. In fact she was gyrating her belly, letting him know the strength of her slim thighs.

He tossed the flowers aside. They clung to each other, kissing wildly, their hands searching, hers as eager as his. He was both surprised and frightened by her sudden passion. She was giving herself so willingly to the embrace that the fires started by his sister became an inferno.

"Quick, quick, let's get into the bedroom."

"No! Louise!"

"The hell with her. We're engaged! Come on!"

"Later."

"Will you-this time?"

"Yes. I promise."

The dinner was well-cooked, but he ate in misery, listening to the women chat, waiting for darkness to descend so that he could unite with Jennifer, slide his hardness into her.

But the promised moment was delayed. He dropped hints to her, gave knowing looks, but Jennifer remained seated. Then she had to help Louise remove dishes from the table. Then she lingered in the kitchen, washing, while Hugh looked up at the ceiling, cursing. Louise, noticing the bulge in his trousers, whispered: "No go, eh?"

He shook his head. "She's teasing."

"She told me she wants to take a shower."

Hugh looked straight at his sister, reading the suggestion in her eyes. "What're you hinting? That would be dangerous."

"Not if we're quick. I need my little bit too, you know. It won't be fun for me trying to sleep and hearing you two going at it like lusty beasts." She carried the rest of the dishes out.

He stood stock still, his eyes centered on her generous ass stretching the fabric of her skirt. The muscles in her thighs writhed like snakes. Recalling the color and texture of the gnarled hair nestling below the slope of her belly put him in a state.

He had no Illusions. His sister was luscious and he was human. The thought of her big, lusty body threshing under his filled his groin with bubbling vitality.

He entered his room, his heart hammering heavily in his chest, his mind reeling from the overall effect of Louise. His fingers trembled as he removed his clothing. Everything from the touch of her hands to the deep, intense look in her eyes tended to undermine hint.

"She is going to shower!"

He was so disturbed he had not heard her approach. His sister swiftly kissed him. Hugh expected a brief peck, but Louise's open mouth closed over his. He tasted her warm dampness and felt the stabbing spear of her tongue.

"I've already removed my panties. Get into bed, because the minute I hear the shower going I'll come to you."

Louise tugged her silken blouse out of her skirt, pulling it open to bare her enormous breasts, so well-developed and weighty that they swung to and fro like bells. In the next few minutes they would be his-for the last time. Then he would have Jennifer's globes to play with.