Moonlight 34

Sam had to get away. Away from the anger and pain welling up inside of him. Anger at that asshat Derek. Derek fucking Jones. That fucktard knew Sam had had a crush on Julie Cummings ever since she had move to town last year. It had been bad enough when Julie had asked Derek to prom, and he had accepted. But now? Now he was sucking face with her by the fire at their post-graduation party at Derek's lake house. And as the couples round the fire began to pair off and go do what horny inebriated teens are wont to do, among them Derek and Julie, Sam had to escape the torment of his own thoughts.

He wandered the grounds of the estate, not sure where he was headed. Derek's parents owned the lake house, though they were themselves gone for the evening. The impromptu party had been Derek's idea. Sam spat in disgust as he neared the water's edge.

The full moon was low on the horizon, its brilliant image reflected off the glassy surface of the lake. Sam stood a moment staring at the twin globes, the sounds of crickets and frogs thundering in his ears. He walked along the edge of that enormous mirror and all at once found himself at the guesthouse. The windows were dark, the only light a bug zapper that crackled occasionally as some errant insect wandered too close to its neon blue column of death.

Sam let himself in with the hide-a-key whose location he was well familiar with. Closing the door shut out the cacophony of the night outside and he listened for the telltale sounds of possible adolescent fornication. Satisfied he was alone, he wandered into the living room, sitting down on an overly soft couch. He leaned back heavily to stare at the ceiling. Pillars of moonlight streaked across the white surface. He tried in vain to not think about the objects of his derision. But as a healthy and hormonally active boy of eighteen, he was cursed with a very vivid imagination.

He let out a resigned sigh. Of course, Julie has chosen Derek. Sam felt he was no slouch what with his lean runner's physique, but it was nothing compared to Derek. Tall, blond and broad-shouldered Derek. Watching him make out with Julie had been torture, the thought of what they may be doing behind closed doors even more so.

Sam tried to blank his mind. He stared at the shafts of light, tracing their outlines and following their lengths. His eyes drifted down one to settle on a baby grand in the far corner. He smiled as all those lessons with Ms. Santiago came back to him. Idly he wondered if he still remembered the piece.

Rising from the sofa, he crossed the short distance to sit down on the long, cushioned bench. He knew his posture was atrocious for he still sat with his butt on the edge of the bench. It was a habit he'd picked up during long hours of practice when he was younger, and his feet barely touched the floor. Opening the lid to the ebony and ivory keys, he tested a couple of chords. They seem to be in tune and knowing Derek's parents, most likely were. His mouth contorted into a goofy grin as he belted out a short verse of "Chopsticks".

He took a deep breath and made sure his fingers rested on the proper opening chords. The doleful tones of Beethoven pierced the silence, echoing off the walls of the small space. He closed his eyes as each note came back to him. He had played this piece for family and friends so often that he knew it by heart.

"You play beautifully."

The low voice from behind startled him and he whirled at the source. His eyes, though adjusted to the dim light, could just barely make out the silhouette in the darker gloom of the hallway. The figure stirred, stepping forth into the light and Sam's heart seem to skip a beat. Before him, half in shadow, stood a goddess of red and green.

The red was a fiery mass of loose curls that cascaded down over her shoulders, the green a sheer silk robe. Held tightly, it clung to her hourglass figure, the hem ending just above mid-thigh to reveal long, slender legs. Sam couldn't help but notice the tenting of her breasts through the flimsy material. Silence hung heavy until he finally found his voice.

"Um, hey," he mewed, his voice cracking, something it hadn't done in a while. He'd recognized her immediately. It was Dana, Derek's older sister. Derek had mentioned she would be coming in from college for their graduation.

"Hey, yourself," she said, leisurely leaning against an exposed pillar. His eyes caught the movement of her body as it shifted beneath the satiny fabric. Realizing he was ogling her, he looked away shamefully.

"I'm...I'm sorry I woke you," he stammered.

"S'ok," she shrugged prettily, "I wasn't asleep anyway."

Dana sauntered over and sat beside him on the bench, her legs off the backside, her front slightly turned toward him.

"It's my favorite piece, 'Moonlight Sonata', right?" she asked.

Sam nodded dumbly, still trying not to leer. It was taking all his willpower not to glance down at the hint of cleavage revealed when she had sat down.

"Don't stop my account," she insisted, gesturing to the keys with her slender hand. He turned back, flexing his trembling fingers as they fell into place to begin the piece anew. He watched out of the corner of his eye as her eyes closed and she began to sway to the flow of the music. His senses were acutely aware of her presence. He could feel the warmth of her breath, smell her shampoo, a mixture of strawberries and kiwi. Her proximity and apparent near nakedness sent a tingle to his downstairs and he fidgeted slightly to hide his burgeoning erection.

He felt her get up from the bench and move behind him. He closed his eyes, trying desperately to not think about what lay concealed under that robe. His ears barely perceived the sound of satin on satin and suddenly she was behind him on the bench, her torso pressed to his, her legs astride his. Sam froze, the last discordant note lingering in the sudden silence. His mind was reeling at the realization that she had opened her robe and was pressing her bare breasts into in back. He could feel the round warmth, the protrusion of nipple through the thin material of his t-shirt. His heart pounded as the feeling in his groin became more insistent.

"Play."

Her whisper felt like fire on his neck as he began to play once more, his hands moved by sheer muscle memory. He felt her hands move under the front of his t-shirt, softly pawing at his chest and abs. Sam's heart was pounding like a jackhammer, his pulse so loud that it almost drowned out the music. Dana's hands were soft and supple, yet their movements implied a barely contained ferocity. He nearly tripped over the notes when he felt her lips on the back of his neck.

"You know I saw you looking at me that day by the pool." Her words immediately flashed him back to two years ago. He had come over looking for Derek and was told to check by the pool. As he had rounded the corner of the pool house, he'd jumped back behind with a start. Cautiously he had peered around and caught sight of Dana sunbathing. She lay face down with her face turned his direction but appeared to have not seen him. He remembered staring at her profile for she was already a shapely girl of eighteen. Her tan skin glistened in the sunlight. The sky-blue bikini she wore accentuated the curve of her ass, the top lay discard by the chair. His eyes had zeroed in on the gentle swell of side boob partially hidden by the wrinkles of the beach towel on which she lay.

Abruptly her cellphone dinged, and she propped herself on her elbows to type out a reply. Sam was floored at the sight of the slightly exposed aureoles. He ducked away then, partly to avoid being seen and partly to take care of his now raging hard-on.

"I got myself off so many times thinking about you watching me." The purring wretched him from his reverie. Her hands continued to roam, one dropping lower to cup the bulge in his jeans, making him almost miss a note.

"You've grown up since then," she cooed as she squeezed, "Mmm, in more ways than one it seems."

This time he did trip over several chords but somehow recovered his rhyme, his hands now completely on autopilot. The Sonata at last reached its end, the tones fading away into the ether. They sat there, Dana's hand on his crotch, her lips to his ear. He stared blankly at the far wall; his hands still poised above the keys.

She rose from the bench, and he turned slowly, unsure of what to expect. She had closed her robe, though now the front hung in a vee shape that terminated just below her navel. He could see the inner curves of her breasts as they creased the material. The exposed skin shone like bronze in the dim light from the window.

Sam rose hesitantly, his knees weak. He slowly stepped to within a foot of her, looking up into her eyes. While she was only a couple inches taller, she seemed to tower over him now. He saw a hunger in her eyes, two deep azure pools that sparked with electric fire. He briefly wondered if this is what it was like for ancient man to be stared down by the mighty Amazons of legend.

He looked down at her full mouth, at the plump lower lip. He was suddenly overcome by the urge to lean forward and seize the ripe flesh in his mouth, to suckle it, bite it. They closed the gap in near unison, their mouths and bodies colliding. The instant they connected, their lips parted to allow the tongues to explore, to wander, to engage. Sam's arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer. A moment of self-doubt about his technique flashed into his mind but her whispered sigh erased it. Finally, their lips parted, their bodies still pressed together, their breathing laborious. They stared into each other's eyes a moment before Dana took his hand and without a word, led him into the dark void of the hall.

The bedroom was as equally dim as the parlor had been, thin shafts of moonlight seeping through the lacy curtains. The room was sparsely furnished, a typical guestroom. The only evidence of occupancy was a standup suitcase in the corner and a cellphone on the nightstand. Sam couldn't be sure, but he thought he spotted a vibrator hidden behind the lamp there.

Dana sat him on the edge of the bed, his body sinking slowly into the memory-foam mattress. She stepped back; her body fully bathed in muted moonlight. With a light flourish, she let the garment fall to floor. Sam's breath caught in his throat. Before him stood the most exquisite example of the female form he had ever laid eyes on. His eyes drank in her beauty: the round, firm breasts, the ruddy hue of the areoles, the pert nipples, the curve of her hips. He noted with a smile deep in the corners of his mouth that the carpet matched the drapes, a dainty tuft of red arrowhead hair aiming at her slit sex. She followed his gaze, a look of uneasiness on her face as he looked her over.

His hands darted to her hips, pulled her reassuringly to him. His face buried in her tummy to plant soft kisses on the tender flesh. Her hands sought his head, craning it to plant a kiss of her own on his receptive lips. As she leaned back up, his hands cupped her breasts. Her eyes half-closed as he began to knead and caress them. Leaning forward, he lightly brushed his lips along the contour of her right breast. His tongue played across the nipple in uneven circles, sending a shiver through her body. His mouth enveloped the areole, his left hand helping to feed more of the tender flesh inside. She pulled him closer to her bosom, a low moan escaping her lips. As his mouth worked, his right hand worked busily, kneading, pinching and twisting the other tit.

After a time, she stopped him, leaning down for another kiss. As she did so, she pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it across the room. She gingerly pushed him onto his back and knelt to help him out of his shoes. She made short work of his belt, relieving him of his pants and boxers in one swift pull. Freed from the confines, his manhood stood at attention, the rock-hard shaft aimed at the ceiling.

"Oh my!" she gasped, staring at his member. Sam felt another pang of self-consciousness. He knew he wasn't very big; it was one of the reasons he didn't shower with the rest of the track team. He was afraid that his shorter stature meant an equally small wang. He had always hoped that what he lacked in length, he made up for in girth. Boredom and curiosity had yielded the knowledge that while he was only six inches long, he was a good two inches thick.

And as if to allay his concerns, Dana reached up to grasp his dick with an appreciate smile on her lips. She stroked him slowly, her deft fingers running over the mushroom shaped head and down the veiny shaft. Her eyes speared his and, still locked, she leaned forward and tenderly kissed the tip of his cock. Then her lips parted and sank down the length of his manhood.

Their eyes never wavered. He couldn't look away from the deep blue orbs transfixed upon him. His body quivered as a he watched them keep pace with her luscious mouth as she tenderly worked his cock in and out. At last, he could take no more, his head flopping back as he succumbed to the sensations. He felt rather than saw her smile around her mouthful. Her head shifted, her grip tightened, and she shoved her head down, sliding the head of his cock to the back of her throat.

Sam moaned loudly, his hands clenching at the bedspread. He could hear her gagging slightly, could feel her yielding throat expand to except more of him. She backed off with a slurping gasp, a bit of spittle stringing from his tip to her mouth. She enveloped him again, her mouth sucking and slurping greedily. Her head bobbed up and down, the red locks swaying at the motions. She devoured his flesh, moaning and gulping. Every few strokes she would throat him again, taking him deeper and deeper with each attempt.

The feeling was pure ecstasy. Never had Sam ever dreamed it could feel this good. Sure, he had jerked off plenty of times before, but this could not compare. Each stroke of her wanton mouth flooded the pleasure centers of his mind. His breathing became labored. He felt his spunk rising, knew his climax was imminent as he bleated at a warning.

"I'm...I'm gonna..." His mind could barely form the words, his body racked by spasms. And just as he was about to blow, she gave one last long suck, releasing his cock with a loud popping noise.

"Not yet, baby. I want this monster in my pussy," she said huskily, her throat sore from the invasion of his manhood.

The statement made his cock twitch, and she grinned wickedly. She clamored over him and crawled to the head of the bed. She lay invitingly on her back and wiggled a finger in a come-hither gesture. Sam wasted no time in moving between her legs, his cock still slick with her spit. He paused as a thought occurred to him. He had watched enough porn to know that while not anticipated, reciprocation seemed very much appreciated. He leaned up to kiss her tenderly as her nails dug into his ass, beckoning him to enter. Her brow furrowed and lips pouted as he pulled away but then a knowing smile came to them as his lips traveled down her body. He kissed her cheek, her jaw, her chin. His lips lingered to suckle the soft skin at the nape of her neck. She moaned, turned her head to give him better access.

He traveled lower. He could taste the saltiness of her sweat as he left a trail of kisses: the valley between her breasts, the hollow of her belly button, the supple skin just above her downy red pubes. She parted her legs, the motion causing her vulva to spread. It glistened with her wetness, and he could feel the heat emanating from them as his lips descended. As they touched the burning flesh, his tongue darted out to spread her labia. Dana moaned, her hand reaching to run fingers through his dark hair. His mouth and tongue continued to work up and down her slit, testing here and there to see which spot elicited the most response. With two fingers he spread her vulva and found a prospective spot. His tongue lapped at the exposed nub and the girl gasped and it was her turn to clutch at the sheets. He sucked and licked at the nib as she grabbed his head and began to grind her sex into his mouth. Gently he inserted first two, then three fingers inside her. She shuddered as the digits worked in and out, worked the inner walls. She inhaled sharply as they brushed the ridge of her g-spot. Sam worked to keep pace with both mouth and fingers, trying to neglect neither. Dana was constantly moaning now, her pelvis bucking each time his fingers hit home. With a final tug, evoking a squeal, he pulled away. His fingers and face were wet with her juices, and he climbed up next to her. She lay there panting, sweat beading on her body.

"Holy fuck, baby," she exclaimed between breathes, "Where the fuck did you learn that?"

"Beginners luck I guess," he answered sheepishly. She shot him a quizzical look and then her eyes widened.

"Wait, are you?" She let the question hang there for a beat. Suddenly he felt ashamed and tried to climb from the bed but her hand on his arm stilled his movement.

"No, baby, it's okay," she reassured. She leaned over and began kissing him again. As she did so, she felt his hard-on poke her in the stomach. Her hand reached down and found him even harder than when he had been in her mouth, and she smiled into his lips.

Before his mind could register the movement, she was atop him, straddling his waist. Her lithe body was poised over him, her auburn curls framing her face and giving her the appearance of a tigress ready to devour her prey. Sam saw the burning look in her eyes again, the yearning, the hunger. Reaching between them, she aimed his cock at her dripping slit and slowly began to sink down. His hand on her hips stopped her advance, the tip barely touching her lips.

"Wait, what about, um..." He blushed, suddenly feeling silly to broach the subject of protection. Her wicked smile reassured him.

"It's okay, I'm on the pill." And with that statement, she slammed her hips down, burying his cock to the hilt inside of her. Both lovers gasped, Dana letting out a barely audible "fuck". They couldn't move, their bodies held ridge by the sheer pleasure of their joining, by the fullness, the heat. She leaned upright, wincing pleasantly as the angle of his insertion shifted. Placing her hands on his chest, she began to move up and down, working his flesh into and out of her own. Her movements were slow at first to savor every inch of his throbbing hardness. Pleasure seared Sam's mind as her paced quickened.

He had to remember to breath. He had capacity for little else, save for the feeling in his loins and the image of this wanton vixen atop him. Dana rode him with abandon, her head held back, moan after moan pouring from her mouth. Her hips moving with purpose, bouncing, grinding and rocking on his cock. She drew his hand to her breast, the other instinctively following suit. He began to squeeze her twin mounds, caressing the firm goblets. His fingers tweaked a nipple, and she gasped.

"Harder," she rasped, and he obliged. Before long he was pulling and twisting the sensitive tips just short of the pleasure/pain divide. All the while she bucked and bounced, climaxed and cursed. A heavy orgasm seized her, a low hiss billowing from between clenched teeth. As the tremor subsided, she looked at him with pleading in her eyes.

"Fuck me."

It was a quiet command, one which he readily followed. Shifting his feet, Sam grabbed two fistfuls of her ass and began to piston away at her slippery, wet hole. His hard cock was a blur as it shot in and out. Dana let out a long stuttering moan as he pounded, her tits jiggling from the impacts. Her back arched as she crested again. He stopped as she collapsed on top of him, her breath heavy in his ear.

"Get up and fuck me." She dismounted and got onto all fours on the bed. Sam took up a position behind her, taking a moment to admire her shapely ass. Her glistening wet sex was puffy from their coupling. Grabbing her hips, he thrust inside her roughly, causing her to gasp in surprise. He then proceeded to pound her pussy, harder and harder each time. Her throaty moans excited him and drove him to thrust harder. She began to push back, meeting him thrust for thrust. She buried her face in the pillow to stifle a scream as multiple climaxes surged through her. For a moment, the only sound in the room was the wet slapping of flesh on flesh.