I Fucking Hate Men Pt 03 The End

Over the last weeks, Leona had become an expert in lingerie; a collection of all types started to build up day by day. She had bought the most sensual bras, panties, corsets, and teddies any girl could dream of owning. She had chosen each one with much care, selected specially for enhancing her assets, to make her feel just like the woman James wanted. She had studied every curvature, every angle, and every saucy pose that Leahsthetics had perfected, and she had practiced them in front of the mirror until she felt like a pro.

Every morning-after breakfast, en route out the door for classes-she leaned over and whispered in James', "Did you enjoy Leah's show last night? Did you jerk off to her?" her eyes sparkling with mischief. Though when James would try to ignore her, his cheeks beet red as a ripe tomato told another story. He had watched, and he had liked what he'd seen-the bulge in his pants gave him away after all.

Friday nights became a ritual. The minute their mom's car pulled out of the driveway for her weekly date with Alex, Leona would appear in James's doorway, dress like Leahsthetics had been the previous night. She'd ask him-her voice low and sweet-if he was ready for his show, and every time his resolve would falter. He knew it was wrong, he knew their relation was taking a perilous route, but he just could not help the way his body responded to her.

She had turned into the seductress-no different from those model movements-and too many times he found himself having to remind his mind that this was his sister. Dancing, teasing, slight tugs of her breasts to the rhythm of music, eyed him unflinchingly, and he retreated into his room when all was over, his mind racing with thoughts of her.

Friday night silently formed a battlefield each time Leona performed her shows. They retired after every show in their room, heartbeats racing with excitement and guilt. She lay on the bed wet, the smell of herself mixed with the strawberry body spray she had put before the show.

She felt her fingers tracing the fabric of her lingerie, tracing the dampness that gathered there from her own excitement. She closed her eyes, letting her mind play back each and every minute detail of the show-how James looked at her, his eyes wide and hungry. Her hand would fall to her clit, strumming it gently while she replayed the dance she'd done for him.

Leona's breathing turned ragged as her mind conjured the image of her brother's face, his eyes dark with lust. She slid her hand into her panties, her fingers finding their way into her slick entrance. She placed James' hand there in her imagination as it delved inside her, filled her, and made her alive in a manner she never had been before. Her hips began bucking, the motions becoming urgent as she chased the high brought about by his imagined touch.

It had been bundled tightly together with nerves-her clitoris begging to be set free. She circled it with her thumb, the other hand squeezing her breast. An orgasm was growing, a tingling sensation that spread throughout her body. Her mind turned chaotic, tumbling over in some jumbled mix of lust and love until lines blurred and she could no longer tell which was which anymore.

As she came, her body arching off the bed, in a hoarse passion-filled voice, she whispered James's name. She had never felt so alive, so powerful. What had she become? This wasn't normal. This wasn't right. Across the hall James was on his bed stroking his cock to the dance his sister had just performed. It would not take him very long to shoot his cum high into the air.

A week later, Leona was more brazen than ever. She knew James was hooked and was ready to press the throttle still harder. "This Friday night," she growled in a husky voice, "I want you to watch the show nude; I want to see you nude, but you can't touch yourself."

James's eyes went wide, his cheeks deep red. "Wh-what?" he choked, trying to suppress his arousal burgeoning through his body.

"You heard me," Leona said, her voice as sweet as honey. "It's only fair, right? After all, you've seen me nude every Friday for the past couple of months."

James listened to what he was hearing in total disbelief. "Leona, that's. that's not."

"Come on, James," she cooed, mischief dancing in her eyes. "You've seen me in lingerie, seen me naked-it's only fair you return the favour."

Her heart racing, she waited for his response. She had not intended to go this far, but the feeling of power when he watched her was too exhilarating to resist. When James finally nodded, she couldn't believe it.

He sat in the chair that Friday night, his body bare, his cock upright. Leona just couldn't believe how big he actually was-all she had ever seen up until this point in time was what could be made out under his sweatpants. She began her show-movements more deliberate, more sensual than ever. Anticipation was an alive thing in that room, wrapping itself around them, tightening with every beat of the music.

As Leona danced, her gaze was nailed to James, anxiety nipping at her as she waited for his reaction. His eyes laced with hers, breathing roughly. He hadn't touched himself once; great was the fear of cumming too quickly in his mind. It was a strange, thrilling dance they made, each feeding off the other's desire.

She saw James's eyes riveted on her, his hand resting atop his erection. She could see the veins coursing, the precum beading at the tip, and knew he was desperately trying not to touch himself. It was a thrilling feeling, one which sent a rush of wetness between her legs. Never in her life had she ever felt so aroused.

Now, she danced closer to him in movements that were almost deliberate as her breathing broke into little, short gasps.

The feel of her panties rubbing across her clit sent waves of pleasure coursing through her body, and with each pulse of James's erection, the throb of her desire mirrored his. She felt like a goddess, the power over him growing with every step.

She leaned into James, her breasts grazing his arm as she danced. She watched his hand hovering over his cock knowing how close she was and how much wetter that made her. The fabric of her panties grew damp at her arousal; friction on her sensitive flesh set her wild.

Whereas her no-longer-dry panties now were wet and turned to a mess, the friction to her clit was getting unbearable: one could feel the pressure rise, her body screaming to release all that built-up energy. She became even more frenzied with her movements, dancing closer to him, her breasts jiggling in time with the rhythm.

And then, as if a dam had burst, James came, his body shaking with the force of his orgasm. It was the most fierce thing she'd ever watched, his face screwed up in pleasure, his eyes closed tightly. And in that instant, Leona felt something inside snap.

Her own orgasm crashed over her like a wave, her body writhing in pleasure she'd never before known. She moaned James's name, her hips bucking into the air as she rode out the crest of her peak. It was almost as if she'd been waiting for this release, this validation that she could be as desirable as this woman who had so thoroughly captured her brother's imagination.

The air reeked of their mutual passion. James sat there, his chest rising and falling, his hand wrapped around his now limp cock. It was a miracle it had happened in the first place. Never once in his life had he felt this exposed, this vulnerable. Then his heart swelled with something which he did not quite comprehend as he looked at Leona.

Leona walked on air, however. She had pushed the envelope, and James had followed. This feeling of power she felt was something she had never experienced in her entire life. Her body still hummed with the aftershocks of her orgasm, her breasts sensitive to the cool air in the room. Never had she felt this alive, this in control.

Anticipation built up between them all week, like a spiral spring coiled tightly, ready to burst. James's eyes followed her around the house, and she knew he was thinking about the show they would put on. Each time she noticed his gaze fall upon her chest, it sent a thrill through her.

The night of her weekly date with her mother was a collectively tense one in the house. She had chosen especially revealing lingerie-those which would make James's heart pound and his blood boil. Leona was good now at picking out just those sorts of outfits that would push his buttons, that would make him crave her.

The moment her mother's car disappeared down the driveway, Leona once more pulled James to her room. Her hips swayed to the rhythm of soft music playing behind her voice. She had learned how to time her movements to perfection-to synchronize her dance with the beat-making her look like a professional model. Her breasts gently bounced with each step as her nipples hardened with sensitivity.

His eyes didn't budge from hers; his heart was galloping, bucking wild as any wild stallion. He knew this had to happen, knew he shouldn't like it-knew he shouldn't-but even then his body did its damnedest to respond. He felt his cock lengthening out, straining in his pants.

Leona's hips swiveled and swayed in a manner that could only be described as a defiance of gravity. Every sway, every shake of her hips, seemed like an invitation issued wordlessly. Her breasts were small, perfect handfuls, and James couldn't help but consider what they'd feel like in his mouth. The thought sent a jolt of excitation through him, and he swallowed hard, the skin of his throat as arid as the desert.

Quivering hands and his jackhammering heart, the naked James reached for the chair. He sat down never once removing his gaze off Leona's face as she started dancing - a ballet of seduction, a series of twirls and shakes that all seemed to converge in an effort to drive him nuts, set his body on fire.

As she danced, her gaze didn't leave the contours of James' face once, and the knowing smile danced at her lips. His eyes had gone hungry when his hand hovered over his erection, and this merely spurred her onward as her desire stirred alive inside her with its insistent demands for satisfaction.

The tempo now fierce, so was she. Closer to him now, breasts jiggling to its beat, she suddenly dropped to her knees in front of him. Her hand wrapped around his shaft, stroking lightly before her mouth leaned in to take him inside.

James gasped, his body going stiff with wonder and delight. He felt as though he had been struck by a bolt of lightning; his mind reeled at the thought that this was actually happening. He watched in rapt attention as Leona's lips wrapped themselves around him, her gaze up to his in a meld of innocence and craving totally intoxicating.

Her mouth was velvet, her tongue swirling around the head of his cock as if she'd been born to it. He couldn't believe it was happening, yet at the touch of their mouths, his body stirred, hips twitching with every pass of her mouth. He had never experienced anything quite so strong, so intimate.

She did not notice any other thing that was happening around her; it was only his eyes that held her gaze, locked in, as she worked him over. Wet sucking sounds filled the room, even mingled with the music-a symphony of desires. James felt himself rise to a head, like a volcano ready to blow. When he finally did, it was explosive.

He came with a strangled cry, his hips jerking as he filled her mouth full of his cum. Leona didn't miss a beat, swallowing his seed as if it was the most natural thing in the world. The taste of him was unexpected, salty and a little bitter, yet only succeeded in fuelling her desire. She sucked him, her eyes not moving off his as she drew out every last drop.

Then there was only the sound of laboured breathing. Leona wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, a smug smile playing on her lips. She'd done it. She'd claimed him, made him hers. And he'd let her.

James sat, his cock still twitching as his brain reeled. What had just happened? It was like it was a kind of dream, a dark fantasy come to life. His sister had given him his first blowjob ever, and it felt like something completely different from what he had ever felt. It was as if the taboo wrapping the whole experience heightened the feel of it; in his head, there was the storm, whirling around guilt and excitement.

Leona leaned over and looked him right in the eye, pride and mischief dancing in her eyes. "You like that, huh?" she purred, her voice thick with satisfaction.

James could say absolutely nothing; he just stood there, open-mouthed like some fish gasping for air. James had never felt anything this strong, this raw. His eyes had glazed over, shocked and ecstatic.

While Leona, on the other hand, felt the surge of power that tingled within her. She had done it. She had finally crossed that last threshold of this forbidden dance, and James had enjoyed every second of it. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and smirked upward to him. "Tasty," she purred in a voice thick with satisfaction.

James sat there for a moment, his mind racing. He had never thought it would go this far, but once the shock began to wear off, he realized he didn't hate it. As a matter of fact, he was still hard, his body begging for more of her touch. He swallowed hard, his voice hoarse. "Leona." he started, but she was already standing, moving closer, her breasts brushing against his chest.

Silently, she straddled him, wrapping her legs around his waist. She began to rub her hips against his, wetting his stomach. James felt the heat emanating from her, the softness of skin, and he could not help but bury himself in it, his lips finding hers-an all-consuming kiss filled with passion and desperation, a declaration from them both of their hunger for each other.

Her hands had wandered down his body, her nails digging into his shoulders as she sat on him, grinding her pussy on his rapidly hardening cock. His cock hardened further with every move, his hips bucking up to meet her. A delicious friction, the feel of her against him much more insistent than any fantasy, as he could almost taste her on his tongue, sweet and intoxicating.

But this need to taste her, to explore her, and overwhelm him was growing. "Can I, please?" he begged, his voice hoarse with his need. "Can I taste your pussy?"

Leona pulled back, her eyes hinting that she was surprised. "Not tonight," she whispered sultry. "But maybe. Later, it too dangerous right now, just watch tonight"

She leaned back into her bed, hips rising from the bed as her fingers moved with a knowing quickness. As if playing her body like an instrument. James felt this odd surge of arousal mixed with sadness in one as he watched her pleasure herself. He could smell her arousal in the air, sweet and potent. His own body responded, his cock thickening in his jeans. He had never seen his sister so wild and passionate; he didn't even know she could be this way. It was like he watched a stranger and yet all so familiar.

The hand moved with more and more rapidity, fingers plunging in and out of her pussy. Her other hand gripped her nipples, twisting and pinching until her eyes screwed closed, the mouth open in a silent scream of pleasure. James watched the tension grow in her body, in the arch of her back, the tremble of her thighs. He could not wrench his eyes from her as she lost control.

Her movements were jerkier now, her hips bucked against her hand as she neared her climax. James felt his own arousal stir, his cock thickening in his grasp. He couldn't help it, the sight of his sister lost in pleasure was too much to resist. He rose from the chair, approaching his sister on the bed, he stroked himself harder, the image of her fingers disappearing into her pussy.

Leona panted and huffed, her body shaking with the efforts of staunching her orgasm. She could feel it building, the pressure in her core rising to a crescendo. And when James's cum spurted across her body, it was like some sort of trigger. Her eyes flashed open, meeting his as a wave crashed over her.

Her pussy clenched on her fingers, her back arched off of the bed as she came, her body covered in James's hot cum. The warm stickiness of his cum coated her breasts, her belly, her pussy, she couldn't help but feel a perverted sense of satisfaction, she had wanted this, craved it and now she had him exactly where she wanted him.

The over next mornings went like a practised play. Leona would jump off the bed of pillows still energized from the previous night; once ready for classes, she went downstairs into the kitchen, put on a pot of coffee, and patiently waited for James while having a bagel and sipping her coffee. On cue, like clockwork, James would arrive with just enough time to eat breakfast-just minutes before Leona had to head out the door to college. His classes were always later than James'. That was so unfair to her. She never got to sleep in, and James, he always did.

"Did you like the show last night?" His face would instantly go deep red when that would happen. "Did Leah make you hard?" she would tease with a little wicked smile on her face. "Did you jerk off to Leah, did she make you cum?" Leona would whisper to him making sure mom was around and wouldn't hear it.

She was the morning tease's artist, a game played as precisely and adroitly as any teasing cat. She knew just how to ring his bells; the anticipation of their next meeting was almost addictive, consuming.

She'd almost float across the floor, her feet whispering against the cool tiles, leaving James in a state of stunned arousal. She'd become the mistress of the artful exit-she moved with every step and jerk a ballet of seduction and power. A swaying hippy gait, clothes that clung to her body like a second skin-it was a picture which had been indelibly fixed in James's mind. She danced out the door, off to college, leaving in her wake a trail of desire, the scent of her perfume hanging in the air like a promise. James watched her go, rubbing a hand over his semi-hard cock, his mind racing with thoughts of nights to come.

In short, Friday nights had become sacrosanct, a ritual both siblings savored in equal measure with the conflicting emotions of anticipation and trepidation. The instant their mother's car disappeared down the driveway, it became a chase against time. James stripped down to nothing, his heart pounding in his chest, cock already thickening in anticipation. He would take a position in the chair, cool fabric slapping against bare skin, eyes fixed on the doorway where Leona would make her appearance.

Leona, for her part, had become a virtuoso of this game-every action, every movement on her part purposefully done, as a tease. Her door swung shut behind her with a click, the outside world left on the other side. It churned always in the air, a heavy almost subliminal weight of their secret alive, living, and breathing between them, an entity pulsating in spasms. She'd saunter over to James, her hips swaying with purpose, eyes sparkling with power held in the palm of her hand.

He sat in his chair, his heart racing like a caged animal, his cock straining against his thigh. He had never felt so open, so exposed. Yet, there was something perilously freeing about it. He watched as Leona began her show, her body sliding with almost supernatural grace. She'd learned to read his every expression-to know his reactions like some seasoned performer.

The music was slow, sensual, and the saints would feel like great sinners. She was dancing for him; her eyes never left his.

"Don't touch yourself tonight," Leona whispered, the mischievous grin on her face promising untold delights if only he followed her lead.

The music swelled, a sultry bass that pulsed through the air of the room. Leona swayed, her body undulating in time, her movements hypnotic. She danced closer and closer to James, her eyes never leaving his until, with a gracefulness that belied gravity, she straddled his legs, her panties soaked and clinging to her. The scent of her arousal filled the space between them, a heady perfume which made James' head spin.