Quickly closing the door behind her, Misty kicked off her shoes and started the process of getting undressed. Undoing her belt buckle, she quickly loosened the hold of her jeans before sliding them down to the floor. Pulling her white tank top over her head, she slowed to ensure that she didn't mess with the bun her hair was perfectly knotted in.
The black maned woman had the body of a dancer, because she was in fact, a dancer. Well, an unemployed dancer at the moment, so maybe that would be a more appropriate descriptor. The tall and skinny woman, built and toned from top to bottom, caught a glimpse of herself in the corner mirror. The relic from her younger years, left behind after she left for school, reflected back at her the appearance she had always dreamt of. She worked hard for her body and she was proud of it. Meandering over to the mirror, she paused and assessed herself, sucking in a non-existent belly as she placed her hands atop her still-covered breasts, posing as she shifted her weight from one leg to the other.
Suddenly remembering the purpose of stripping down, Misty reached behind her back and unclasped the bra. Struggling to stay focused, she was distracted again, focusing on her breasts as they became exposed in the mirror. Of all her features, she loved her breasts the most. The perky handfuls stood proudly at attention; a bra rarely needed unless it fit the outfit. Tossing said bra to the floor, she gave both of her nipples a quick pinch and spun around, looking over her shoulder at the mirror again as she shook her barely there, thong-covered ass.
With a running start, she leaped on to the bed and immediately reached into the nightstand feverishly, remembering once again that she didn't have a lot of time.
Her parents had left for the grocery store just a few minutes ago, so the house was going to be quiet for the foreseeable future. Add in the fact that her stepsister was away at school for her final semester, and Misty had the house to herself, a little privacy for what felt like the first time in ages.
Not thrilled about moving home after turning 30, the travelling off-Broadway show she was working for had run out of money, leaving Misty and her co-workers out of luck and out of housing. Outside of her destroyed personal and professional life though, she didn't really have any complaints about how things were going. She had a big bed, plenty of food, and all the hot water she could want. It was a sweet set up.
Well, outside of the fact that she hadn't had a good orgasm in months. The boys in her hometown were all still exactly that, with the local bars full of underachieving homers who lucked out and got a big house for cheap. Not that she was jealous or anything, she was just disappointed that none of them had grown up to be manly men. It left her lonely, fantasizing about her previous adventures and relying on toys to take care of business. And here she was, alone in the house and seeing it as an opportunity to take care of said business, fuck herself while being as loud as she could be.
Rummaging through the drawer, Misty found what she was looking for in the nightstand, pulling out a dildo that resembled a regular penis, albeit a very large regular penis. Taking the toy in both of her hands, she licked the tip slowly before sucking on the tip, picking up pace as she squeezed the pretend shaft in her hands. Closing her eyes, she dreamt it was real, teasing it like she would a man, playfully slapping it on her cheek and giggling after the contact. She inhaled the silicone odor, imagining the plastic was the just the odd musk of a recently sweaty man. Maybe after a work out? Maybe after a dance?
Recalling some of her former partners, or former co-workers in some situations, Misty began to shimmy a bit in the bed, writhing in place as she sucked on the toy. Her imagination wandered, dreaming of being whisked off her feet, a tired cliché but still sexy to a modern dancer. As her brain leapt through the air, twirling in its own realm of fantasy, she traced the tip of her toy along the skin on her chest, prompting goosebumps to spread as she explored her body.
Rubbing her toy on the skin of her chest, she paused at her breasts, circling her petite nipples that sat proudly upon her tits. While she had always longed for a larger pair, perhaps something similar to her voluptuous stepsister, Misty reveled in the sensitivity of their touch. Not wanting to linger, as she knew her freedom was ticking away, she sped up her process and brought the phallic toy immediately to her crotch.
Tracing it across the outer lips of her pussy, her juices began to gather in anticipation of finally finding release. Sliding it inside of herself easily, Misty pushed it inside as far as possible, holding the base firmly with one hand as she got a good grip on the toy with the other, preparing to fuck herself madly.
And fuck herself she did. First, laying on her back, she hammered away at her dripping snatch, imagining the toy was a dancer from her fantasies. Enjoying the sensation, Misty began to moan, inserting the occasional gasp among the queefs escaping her loosening pussy. Sliding the toy in and out, she began feeling the pleasure build, but was afraid that she might not be moving fast enough. Not feeling like wasting any time, she flipped over to her hands and knees, lowering the upper half of her body down to the bed quickly, freeing up her hands for other purposes.
With the dildo dripping her juices, she reinserted the toy to its deepest depth, thrusting it in and out slowly before picking up steam. Misty then used her other hand to play with her clit, the circular motion she began with quickly turning into a rapid rubbing and tapping. This was the angle she needed she thought to herself, giving herself the fucking that she so desperately needed. As her release finally began to approach her, she suddenly felt like she was being watched.
Stopping for a moment, she paused and listened for sounds. A door opening, a car closing, anything that might asway her fears. Flipping over, the dildo still lodged in her pussy, she was surprised by a familiar voice before she could even see who it was.
"Well shit Brendan, look at what we have here."
Catching Misty at her sluttiest was a soft voice that she knew all too well. Standing in the doorway, with who Misty assumed was a boyfriend, was her younger stepsister Joanne. The petite woman was almost a decade Misty's junior, much smarter but not nearly as fit as her older stepsibling. The two had gotten drunk one night and made out a few years back, an experience that still made Misty masturbate. She found Joanne beautiful, she just suffered from being short, the size of her assets more appropriate for someone taller perhaps.
Silence overtook the room as Misty wondered what to do about the toy in her pussy. Squeezing her kugel muscles a bit, she pushed the toy out, it falling to the floor with a thud. At this point, she was desperate for an orgasm and honestly didn't care who witnessed or helped. She was unexpectedly interrupted by that soft voice again.
"Look at you, dirty girl," Joanne surprised the naked Misty, teasing her a bit about the situation. "Want some company?"
This second part caught Misty completely off guard, her wondering if Joanne still fantasized about that night as well. Actually, fucking Joanne had always been one of Misty's taboo thoughts, an idea ever-present at the back of her mind. Would she really be ok with that? Would it be weird after? She started to panic a bit and began to experience the brain scramblies.
As she struggled with how to proceed, she noticed a stirring in the boyfriend's pants. It wasn't so much his crotch, however, as much as it was his upper leg. He was packing, Misty thought to herself. And she had always found her stepsister to be cute.
