Her hips worked in unison with him. As he plunged downward her pelvis jumped up and accepted every inch of swollen cock he could stuff into the mouth of her sex. As he wrenched out, in preparation for another lancing thrust, her hips fell away, her ass bouncing onto the floor beneath her. Then she was there with that predatory hunger for cock, sheathing his prick once more as he rammed into her again.
Their bodies melted into a tangle of hot, urgent, aching flesh as they worked together, feeding the flames of desire that consumed them. In and out, he pumped into the clutching socket of her sex. Faster and harder, he tried to drive his thick, swollen lance of prick into her mouth as she had urged him.
Groaning and bucking, she existed only for the fat slab of manmeat that packed its way into her cunt. Her whole body was caught in a rushing tidal wave of sexual desire. Higher and higher, he whipped her on.
Centering at their joined cores, swirling fingers of pleasure washed out and covered her. Each torrent of desire growing in strength, she was blasted into the exploding universe of orgasmic oblivion.
Clinging to the young man, her stepson, who still pumped himself into her body, she soared on a skyrocketing nebula of pleasure. Lust completely shattered her soul, then re-assembled it over and over.
Feeling the woman beneath him go rigid, he let the last wall of control crumble from his body, allowing the thick rush of sperm and semen to boil up through his cock and blast into the contracting hole of pussy surrounding him. Groaning in the stream of ecstasy that raced through his loins, he emptied his balls into the awaiting chalice of her belly.
Gratefully, the steaming fountain of come spurted from his testicles, coating and soaking the quaking folds of her vagina. His whole body jerked and twitched as he drilled deep into the woman, his father's wife, under him, as the last drops of his release drained from his still hard and aching cock.
Clinging together, they entered the satisfaction of fulfilled desire.
Caressing, they kissed and held each other. Still locked together, they rolled to their sides, man and woman, stepson and stepmother, as his hips once again began the steady in-out rhythm they both still hungered for.
Chapter 5
Still clutching her thin robe to her aroused body, Diana tried to move away from the window into the girls' bedroom, but she couldn't. Paula's and Kate's sexual play fascinated her, drawing her eyes as the light of a candle draws a moth.
This uninhibited lovemaking between stepsisters was something new; something that incited strange, previously unfelt desires within her.
As she watched them embrace and caress on the bed, she could feel their young, exploring hands on her body and wished that the sensations that coursed through her were more than just mental. She wanted to be in the room with them; wanted to feel their mouths and hands and bodies pressed against her.
Paula, removing Kate's arms from around her nakedness, suddenly rose from the bed and held her hand out to her sister. The dark-haired, younger girl smiled, obvious excitement in her dark eyes, and bounced up, taking the blonde's hand. The older girl leaned forward and gently kissed her companion's lips, then led her before the window.
Together they stared at Diana!
She had been discovered!
Diana's heart missed several beats. No better than a common window peeker, the two girls had found her gazing in on their sexual pastimes.
She felt a hot, embarrassed heat flush through her body.
No! They didn't see her! she suddenly realized. The two teen-age girls had not found her out. They were staring straight at her, but they didn't see her. Relief flooded her body and at the same time, her mind reeled with confusion. How could they not see me?
Then it dawned on her.
The alcove, the chairs, the curtained window-all of it made sense.
The window wasn't a window at all, but one of those one-way mirrors which allow persons behind them to see out, but persons on the other side see nothing but a silver surfaced mirror. And the alcove and the chairs were nothing more than a small viewing area for spectators to gaze upon the activities in the bedroom. Sexual activities, she assumed.
Another of the mansion's "quirks," she grinned to herself, as she wondered how many guests to the Hightower estate had been placed in this bedroom. And even more interesting were the possibilities of who used the alcove. The lack of dust she had previously detected and the electric lights that hung from the ceiling pointed to the fact that the alcove with its special "Window" were used. Was this the strangeness of the Hightower family that Michael had tried to warn her of? Was this viewing area here when the Hightowers bought the mansion? Or was it an addition that the elder Hightower had dreamed up? The whole implications of this voyeuristic haven fascinated her.