The Last Straw (new 4/5)
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neverdoubted
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The Last Straw - Chapter 45
It was so slight that I was the only one who felt it. When I tilted my head to my left, I saw Mary's wide eyes staring back at me. Me eyes had adjusted to the darkness by now and I could make out her plump lips. They were pursed as if she hadn't meant to draw attention to herself.
On my other side, Bea mewled repeatedly into her pillow and wobbled her hips. When Mary heard the sexually charged sounds her sister was making, her own brow furrowed and she frowned. It was almost as if...was she jealous?
Like her sister, she had spent the prior night squirming fruitlessly in the bed. All night long, she had heard their mother loudly thanking an Askis man for satisfying her every sexual craving.
As far as I knew, Mary wasn't aware of Bea's cranking services - what we had been doing together behind closed doors. At least, I hadn't told her. But it seemed to bother Mary that her sister had now initiated a more intimate form of contact, using my hand for her pleasure, and was clearly enjoying the experience. And she trusted me at least as much as Bea did.
When it came to boys, they had long been in direct competition with each other. While the younger blonde was strikingly beautiful in her own right, Mary always won the competition for attention thanks to her body's spectacular developmental advantage. And even though they were both still virgins - my strict father made sure of that - they were also repressed teens who were very interested in sex.
Setting her jaw, Mary raised a finger to her lips, signaling for me to stay quiet. Then she grabbed my left shoulder and used the leverage to readjust herself higher on the bed. As the oldest, I think she viewed any new sexual experience as hers by birthright. She wasn't about to miss out and let her sister have all the fun. In short, she was jealous!
Her lips parted and her eyes fluttered shut as my left palm found a home cupping her needy mound. Placing her hand over her mouth to keep quiet, she initiated a subtle motion - enough to create friction between her shaved sex and my fingers, but hopefully not enough for anyone else to notice.
It was cute how shy she was about pleasuring herself in front of her younger sisters and that she thought she could get away with it without them finding out. Sure, Bea was distracted by her own pleasure at the moment, but Cindy was laying right there on my other hip and only pretending to be asleep. If Mary kept this up, Cindy would most definitely figure it out at some point. But I was a gentleman. I wouldn't reveal her secret.
ATHUMP-ATHUMP-ATHUMP Frank's hard, steady strokes shook the wall above our heads. Never wavering. Never slowing. Never ceasing.
"ubu..ubu..ufuh..u-u-u-ffffFAAAAAAAAEEEE---," continually drilled by her drill sergeant husband, Patricia let out a long, sustained cry of ecstasy then went back to blubbering nonsense.
As if in response, both girls let out a sexy whine - Bea into the pillow and Mary into her hand - and increased their squirming pace.
With quarters tight between Bea's flexing thighs, any sort of maneuvering of an outside invader like my hand ought to have been a chore. But nature had already anticipated that possibility and had a solution at the ready. A warm, slippery substance was expressed from somewhere inside her which quickly coated both her sex and my fingers. Mary's talented body performed the same trick. And from then on, every stroke they made against my hand was smooth and frictionless.
I assumed at the time that there must have been a reserve tank of the stuff buried somewhere inside them. Only later did I figure out that their bodies made it whenever they got aroused. Girls can produce natural lubricant on demand? That wasn't mentioned anywhere in my boy scout handbook!
I hadn't the foggiest clue what I was doing, other than keeping my hands steady and letting them do all the work. But judging from the sounds they were making, I must have been doing something right.
It was only a matter of time before Cindy used the excuse of a pretend yawn to "wake up" and see what was going on. Propping herself up with her arms, she looked back and forth at each of her wriggling sisters. Then she looked down at me and grinned - her giddy eyes somehow sparkling even in the pitch darkness. It made no difference to her what the activity was, as long as she got to be a part of it.
With both my hands occupied, I didn't have any left to lend her. But that didn't bother Cynthia Sue Conyor. She was already straddling my leg and began rocking her hips left and right following the example set by her sisters.
Her grin relaxed into a blissful smile. She had woken up in the middle of the night last night to find the three of us sleeping together in the bed without her. My arms under each of her sisters in a pseudo-embrace. I vaguely recalled drifting out of my sleep and seeing her pacing at the foot of the bed.
Excluded from yet another collective vacation experience, the sight had driven the dispirited girl to the Shoney's where she bought her lollypop decal. An attempt to reconnect with her older sisters who had been so distracted and distant of late. Her desperation also likely played a role in persuading her to strip off all her clothes that morning and come outside for church completely naked. To be like them. To be with them.
Her gambit had worked out in large part because I had come to her rescue. I had given the naked teen just what she needed to get through the most stressful day of her young life. Supporting her and distracting her at the right times, puffing the fragile creature up with heartfelt compliments, and taking charge when needed. But most importantly, I went out of my way not to ever make her feel excluded.
Tonight's sleeping arrangement was her reward. Instead of being banished to a bedroll on the floor, I had invited her to join us in the already crowded bed. Flanked by her sisters whom she admired more than anyone in the world and embracing the one person who had helped her through her day and made all this happen, she was finally right where she wanted to be - smack dab in the middle of it all.
She had me to thank for everything. And thank me, she did. Still rocking her hips against my leg, she let out a happy sigh of contentment and settled her bare chest back onto mine. But she didn't stop there. I was laying flat on my back with my arms spread to reach her wriggling sisters on either side, but she saw my pose as an invitation for a hug. That girl could never resist an opportunity for a good hug.
She wrapped her arms around my upper torso. My entire front side was already tingling. But when I felt her tiny, cold hands squeeze me in a tight embrace, my back also started to buzz. I didn't think there could be any more skin to skin contact than there already was. But Cindy had managed it. And she didn't seem to be in any hurry to terminate it. She would happily sleep like this; embracing me all night if I let her. With my arms trapped, I couldn't stop her - not that I would have tried.
With our shared body heat providing more than enough warmth, no one had bothered to pull the covers up and over us. My eyes had adjusted enough that I could now make out their shapes when I raised my head to look. I took in the unbelievable sight of three perfect teenage bottoms wobbling back and forth in the silvery moonlight - at different rates but in a surprisingly similar fashion. The family resemblance was striking despite their wildly different personalities.
It reminded me of how, even though each sister carried herself a little differently, they all shared a similar stride. It was a little more noticeable when you were following them from behind, and much more noticeable when they didn't have any clothes on. Their hips would all rock back and forth in an erotic performance that was nearly impossible to tear your eyes away from, much like they were doing right now. Now that I knew they used those exact same muscles for sexual gratification, I would never be able to watch them walk again without getting turned on.
Speaking of turned on, the moonlight also illuminated my tented boxers. My penis was painfully erect and throbbing with potent desire. But my hands were needed elsewhere and I had no way to attend to myself. Fortunately, my father had ingrained strict discipline in me and I could push my body beyond its limits when needed. I had also been taught chivalry. For a gentleman to practice restraint and put the needs of others ahead of his own was a sure-fire way to curry favor from a charmed maiden or two...or three!
As I went back to gazing in awe at the flexing hills of ripe, teenage flesh laid out before me, I detected some distinct traits in their needful squirming. Mary's bottom tilted back and forth just like her sisters, but at a slower, more deliberate pace befitting of her maturity level - like she was at least making an effort to maintain some level of composure and grace. But even with one hand clamped over her mouth, cute little whimpers kept slipping out somehow.
Bea was trying her hardest to find a steady rhythm - swiveling her hips in the same way which caused her slippery sex to rock back and forth against my open palm. But every so often, her muscles would make an adorable little spasm and her thighs would clench down over my hand. Whenever that happened, she would mewl adorably. I think the noises she was making embarrassed her because she kept trying to bury her face further and further into the pillow. I don't know how she was able to breathe like that. But no matter how self-conscious it made her to be unable to control herself in front of her stepbrother, she couldn't seem to stop.
Cindy's was the most energetic and least self-conscious of the three. What she lacked in coordination, she made up for with enthusiasm. Her hands squeezed my middle as the friction of her bare, squirming mound warmed the top of my leg. Her smooth, impossibly soft breasts pressed against my chest drove me wild with desire - especially now that her nipples were perked up into stiff nubs.
She let out a happy coo into my neck; barely noticeable above the thumping and moaning next door and the increasingly loud whimpers her sisters were making. I couldn't see her face from this angle, but I imagined a huge, dimpled smile on it. She had always been a mother hen by nature. And with her flock safe and accounted for, she could stop fretting over us and just enjoy herself. A mother hen riding her favorite...rooster.
DUMM--DUMM--DUMM the pounding rhythm next door slowed but grew louder. It now resembled a resonating war drum rousing the troops to battle. There was only one troop over there to rouse, but she answered every beat with a deep, guttural moan - like the croaking of a bullfrog.
The three squirming maidens on my side of the wall added their inexperienced whimpers to Patricia's wanton croaks. The erotic quartet of female sexual need made my throbbing penis twitch with desire.
"Mmmm...mmm...mmm-oh!" Cindy cooed before issuing a gasp of surprise and raised her head slightly. Something was happening to her. Something new and exciting.
"oh...oh...oh," she cooed, sounding a lot like her mother had a few minutes earlier, "oh Frankie, I can't stop. This feels soooo goood!"
Her hands clutched my back but her lower half never stopped rocking. She had innocently followed her sisters into this fun little bedtime activity. And now she seemed to be genuinely surprised by what all the intimate squirming was doing to her body. It was a right of passage for every young teenager to unlock and eventually learn to master their newly forming pleasure centers.
I had only discovered it myself less than a year earlier. I never expected to be present to witness it happening to someone else; and a girl, no less! My cheeks turned red just thinking about it as Cindy hugged me tighter.
I felt silly that I couldn't hug her back. If my hands had been free, I would have been more interactive. Wrap my arms around her in a mutual embrace while she wriggled her worries away. Or perhaps slide my hands lower to give her naked, hard-working bottom an exploratory caress. But alas, I was busy fondling her sisters' privates. Trapped in an erotic prison of my own making.
"It's ok," I whispered back - offering encouragement in the only way I could, "you don't have to stop. Do whatever you need to."
"oh--oh--oh, thank you, Frankie," she gushed.
Then, to my surprise, she tilted her face up and pressed her small, puckered lips against my cheek! She had already kissed me twice that evening. The one in the bathtub had been on the mouth and taken both of us by surprise. The second had also been on my cheek when she first laid down on top of me. A token of gratitude for letting her join the sleepover. But this latest one was borne more out of genuine adoration than mere gratitude.
Once she started, the affectionate teen couldn't seem to stop kissing me. In between excited coo's, her soft lips found my cheek over and over - dappling different spots with warm, wet, enthusiastic blessings as her lower half built toward its arousing climax.
As if I didn't have enough to deal with, now my cheek was tingling, too! And this urge to buck my hips into the air kept washing over me. That's how turned on I was. I kept still and remained a passive participant, but it took a monumental effort. Luckily, the one thing an Askis man can always do is exercise discipline, even when his own body is fighting against him. Especially then.
I may have been able to control my hips, but my itchy fingers were another matter. Mary's petals, for example, coated with her juices and quite slippery by now, were just too tempting a target to ignore. When my hand muscles twitched and accidentally squeezed her bulging peach, she answered with a muffled, high-pitched moan. I forgot she had been gripping my shoulder until she squeezed it hard and started to pant audibly.
Cindy expressed her giddy excitement without restraint - cooing openly and offering adorable kisses of thanks to the boy who was helping her toward what I suspected was going to be her first ever orgasm.
Mary was on the same arousal track as her baby sister. It was cute how the older, more experienced teen held herself back and tried to maintain her composure. But all that side to side motion, rocking her most private parts gently against my palm, seemed to be bearing pleasurable fruit inside her - more than she could bear. It sure sounded to me like she wouldn't be able to keep this up much longer.
However, Mary wasn't the first of them to unleash her body's sensual craving. Wasn't Cindy either. I should have known Beatrice would be the first one to reach her crisis. She had kicked off the squirming and had a definite head start on her sisters.
"Mmmf-fffm-fmfF," the naked teen meowed into her pillow. She had the waistband of my boxers in a death grip, as if afraid that if she let go she would be swept away by her own arousal and lost forever.
She increased her pace - wiggling her hips back and forth with wild abandon. It didn't occur to her that there might be better, more efficient ways to produce the pleasurable sensations her body needed to reach its peak. It didn't occur to any of them; not that night.
I turned my head just as Bea's thighs gave a powerful flex and clamped tightly over my hand.
"mmm-mmm-MMM...MMMMWWWW FWMMNKIEEE!!!---" she cried. Then her voice got cut off and her whole body went rigid as a massive, shuddering orgasm wracked her virgin body.
When it finally ended, she came back to life with a gasp and raised her head from the pillow. Her eyes were frantic and wild as her oxygen-starved lungs sucked in heaving breaths. My hand was still clamped over her fluttering pussy and she was still gripping my boxer shorts. Our gazes met briefly in the darkness and I know she saw me. But then, to my utter surprise, her eyes rolled back into her head and her hips started rocking again. She wasn't finished!
I knew nothing about girls and arousal. But experience is the greatest teacher. An eager student, and a quick learner, I was its star pupil that night!
Mary came a few seconds later. With an unladylike moan, she issued a long, spectacular expression of all the pent-up stress and worry in her life. She needed this most of all. She took only a moment to recover before plunging deep into her lake of arousal in search of round two.
With my attention turned toward Bea, Cindy had lost access to my right cheek. But that didn't slow her down one bit. She just kept showing affection to whatever parts of me she could reach. Her soft, eager lips found the lower edge of my left cheek just as inviting. Then my jaw. Then my neck. Then my collarbone. Then it happened.
"Oh Frankie, oh Frankie, Oh...my! I...I...eeeeEEEEE!!!"
Her squirming thighs clamped down on my leg and she began to shudder like her sisters had. The orgasm she had worked so hard for had finally arrived. But too impatient to stop and recover, she immediately started working on another one. She was like a stone skipping across the surface of her arousal - her eager little hips never stopped moving. All the while, her precious cries of unbridled ecstasy was music to my ears.
I settled my head into my pillow and stared at the ceiling even as my excluded cock throbbed and complained. But I ignored it. This night was about my girls. The small role I was playing in bringing them satisfaction, even though it meant postponing my own pleasure, made me burst with pride.
My lips curled into a smile. Any other fourteen year old boy would trade places with me in a heartbeat. But they hadn't earned it. None of this had come easy or by happenstance. I was only here because of the great personal risk I had taken to assist - first Mary, then her sisters. Only after I had proven myself a capable provider and protector in every way did they open up and start to trust me.
I alone had worked out what each of them truly needed. I dealt with interlopers on their behalf. When they thought their burdens were too great to bear and started to collapse under the stress, I was always there to pick them up. Lighten their load or stiffen their spine - whatever the occasion called for. Whatever their need, Frankie could provide. I fed them. I sheltered them. I bathed them. I masturbated them. And unlike my father who only had to take care of one, I was currently servicing three Conyor girls at the same time. Take that, old man!
On my other side, Bea mewled repeatedly into her pillow and wobbled her hips. When Mary heard the sexually charged sounds her sister was making, her own brow furrowed and she frowned. It was almost as if...was she jealous?
Like her sister, she had spent the prior night squirming fruitlessly in the bed. All night long, she had heard their mother loudly thanking an Askis man for satisfying her every sexual craving.
As far as I knew, Mary wasn't aware of Bea's cranking services - what we had been doing together behind closed doors. At least, I hadn't told her. But it seemed to bother Mary that her sister had now initiated a more intimate form of contact, using my hand for her pleasure, and was clearly enjoying the experience. And she trusted me at least as much as Bea did.
When it came to boys, they had long been in direct competition with each other. While the younger blonde was strikingly beautiful in her own right, Mary always won the competition for attention thanks to her body's spectacular developmental advantage. And even though they were both still virgins - my strict father made sure of that - they were also repressed teens who were very interested in sex.
Setting her jaw, Mary raised a finger to her lips, signaling for me to stay quiet. Then she grabbed my left shoulder and used the leverage to readjust herself higher on the bed. As the oldest, I think she viewed any new sexual experience as hers by birthright. She wasn't about to miss out and let her sister have all the fun. In short, she was jealous!
Her lips parted and her eyes fluttered shut as my left palm found a home cupping her needy mound. Placing her hand over her mouth to keep quiet, she initiated a subtle motion - enough to create friction between her shaved sex and my fingers, but hopefully not enough for anyone else to notice.
It was cute how shy she was about pleasuring herself in front of her younger sisters and that she thought she could get away with it without them finding out. Sure, Bea was distracted by her own pleasure at the moment, but Cindy was laying right there on my other hip and only pretending to be asleep. If Mary kept this up, Cindy would most definitely figure it out at some point. But I was a gentleman. I wouldn't reveal her secret.
ATHUMP-ATHUMP-ATHUMP Frank's hard, steady strokes shook the wall above our heads. Never wavering. Never slowing. Never ceasing.
"ubu..ubu..ufuh..u-u-u-ffffFAAAAAAAAEEEE---," continually drilled by her drill sergeant husband, Patricia let out a long, sustained cry of ecstasy then went back to blubbering nonsense.
As if in response, both girls let out a sexy whine - Bea into the pillow and Mary into her hand - and increased their squirming pace.
With quarters tight between Bea's flexing thighs, any sort of maneuvering of an outside invader like my hand ought to have been a chore. But nature had already anticipated that possibility and had a solution at the ready. A warm, slippery substance was expressed from somewhere inside her which quickly coated both her sex and my fingers. Mary's talented body performed the same trick. And from then on, every stroke they made against my hand was smooth and frictionless.
I assumed at the time that there must have been a reserve tank of the stuff buried somewhere inside them. Only later did I figure out that their bodies made it whenever they got aroused. Girls can produce natural lubricant on demand? That wasn't mentioned anywhere in my boy scout handbook!
I hadn't the foggiest clue what I was doing, other than keeping my hands steady and letting them do all the work. But judging from the sounds they were making, I must have been doing something right.
It was only a matter of time before Cindy used the excuse of a pretend yawn to "wake up" and see what was going on. Propping herself up with her arms, she looked back and forth at each of her wriggling sisters. Then she looked down at me and grinned - her giddy eyes somehow sparkling even in the pitch darkness. It made no difference to her what the activity was, as long as she got to be a part of it.
With both my hands occupied, I didn't have any left to lend her. But that didn't bother Cynthia Sue Conyor. She was already straddling my leg and began rocking her hips left and right following the example set by her sisters.
Her grin relaxed into a blissful smile. She had woken up in the middle of the night last night to find the three of us sleeping together in the bed without her. My arms under each of her sisters in a pseudo-embrace. I vaguely recalled drifting out of my sleep and seeing her pacing at the foot of the bed.
Excluded from yet another collective vacation experience, the sight had driven the dispirited girl to the Shoney's where she bought her lollypop decal. An attempt to reconnect with her older sisters who had been so distracted and distant of late. Her desperation also likely played a role in persuading her to strip off all her clothes that morning and come outside for church completely naked. To be like them. To be with them.
Her gambit had worked out in large part because I had come to her rescue. I had given the naked teen just what she needed to get through the most stressful day of her young life. Supporting her and distracting her at the right times, puffing the fragile creature up with heartfelt compliments, and taking charge when needed. But most importantly, I went out of my way not to ever make her feel excluded.
Tonight's sleeping arrangement was her reward. Instead of being banished to a bedroll on the floor, I had invited her to join us in the already crowded bed. Flanked by her sisters whom she admired more than anyone in the world and embracing the one person who had helped her through her day and made all this happen, she was finally right where she wanted to be - smack dab in the middle of it all.
She had me to thank for everything. And thank me, she did. Still rocking her hips against my leg, she let out a happy sigh of contentment and settled her bare chest back onto mine. But she didn't stop there. I was laying flat on my back with my arms spread to reach her wriggling sisters on either side, but she saw my pose as an invitation for a hug. That girl could never resist an opportunity for a good hug.
She wrapped her arms around my upper torso. My entire front side was already tingling. But when I felt her tiny, cold hands squeeze me in a tight embrace, my back also started to buzz. I didn't think there could be any more skin to skin contact than there already was. But Cindy had managed it. And she didn't seem to be in any hurry to terminate it. She would happily sleep like this; embracing me all night if I let her. With my arms trapped, I couldn't stop her - not that I would have tried.
With our shared body heat providing more than enough warmth, no one had bothered to pull the covers up and over us. My eyes had adjusted enough that I could now make out their shapes when I raised my head to look. I took in the unbelievable sight of three perfect teenage bottoms wobbling back and forth in the silvery moonlight - at different rates but in a surprisingly similar fashion. The family resemblance was striking despite their wildly different personalities.
It reminded me of how, even though each sister carried herself a little differently, they all shared a similar stride. It was a little more noticeable when you were following them from behind, and much more noticeable when they didn't have any clothes on. Their hips would all rock back and forth in an erotic performance that was nearly impossible to tear your eyes away from, much like they were doing right now. Now that I knew they used those exact same muscles for sexual gratification, I would never be able to watch them walk again without getting turned on.
Speaking of turned on, the moonlight also illuminated my tented boxers. My penis was painfully erect and throbbing with potent desire. But my hands were needed elsewhere and I had no way to attend to myself. Fortunately, my father had ingrained strict discipline in me and I could push my body beyond its limits when needed. I had also been taught chivalry. For a gentleman to practice restraint and put the needs of others ahead of his own was a sure-fire way to curry favor from a charmed maiden or two...or three!
As I went back to gazing in awe at the flexing hills of ripe, teenage flesh laid out before me, I detected some distinct traits in their needful squirming. Mary's bottom tilted back and forth just like her sisters, but at a slower, more deliberate pace befitting of her maturity level - like she was at least making an effort to maintain some level of composure and grace. But even with one hand clamped over her mouth, cute little whimpers kept slipping out somehow.
Bea was trying her hardest to find a steady rhythm - swiveling her hips in the same way which caused her slippery sex to rock back and forth against my open palm. But every so often, her muscles would make an adorable little spasm and her thighs would clench down over my hand. Whenever that happened, she would mewl adorably. I think the noises she was making embarrassed her because she kept trying to bury her face further and further into the pillow. I don't know how she was able to breathe like that. But no matter how self-conscious it made her to be unable to control herself in front of her stepbrother, she couldn't seem to stop.
Cindy's was the most energetic and least self-conscious of the three. What she lacked in coordination, she made up for with enthusiasm. Her hands squeezed my middle as the friction of her bare, squirming mound warmed the top of my leg. Her smooth, impossibly soft breasts pressed against my chest drove me wild with desire - especially now that her nipples were perked up into stiff nubs.
She let out a happy coo into my neck; barely noticeable above the thumping and moaning next door and the increasingly loud whimpers her sisters were making. I couldn't see her face from this angle, but I imagined a huge, dimpled smile on it. She had always been a mother hen by nature. And with her flock safe and accounted for, she could stop fretting over us and just enjoy herself. A mother hen riding her favorite...rooster.
DUMM--DUMM--DUMM the pounding rhythm next door slowed but grew louder. It now resembled a resonating war drum rousing the troops to battle. There was only one troop over there to rouse, but she answered every beat with a deep, guttural moan - like the croaking of a bullfrog.
The three squirming maidens on my side of the wall added their inexperienced whimpers to Patricia's wanton croaks. The erotic quartet of female sexual need made my throbbing penis twitch with desire.
"Mmmm...mmm...mmm-oh!" Cindy cooed before issuing a gasp of surprise and raised her head slightly. Something was happening to her. Something new and exciting.
"oh...oh...oh," she cooed, sounding a lot like her mother had a few minutes earlier, "oh Frankie, I can't stop. This feels soooo goood!"
Her hands clutched my back but her lower half never stopped rocking. She had innocently followed her sisters into this fun little bedtime activity. And now she seemed to be genuinely surprised by what all the intimate squirming was doing to her body. It was a right of passage for every young teenager to unlock and eventually learn to master their newly forming pleasure centers.
I had only discovered it myself less than a year earlier. I never expected to be present to witness it happening to someone else; and a girl, no less! My cheeks turned red just thinking about it as Cindy hugged me tighter.
I felt silly that I couldn't hug her back. If my hands had been free, I would have been more interactive. Wrap my arms around her in a mutual embrace while she wriggled her worries away. Or perhaps slide my hands lower to give her naked, hard-working bottom an exploratory caress. But alas, I was busy fondling her sisters' privates. Trapped in an erotic prison of my own making.
"It's ok," I whispered back - offering encouragement in the only way I could, "you don't have to stop. Do whatever you need to."
"oh--oh--oh, thank you, Frankie," she gushed.
Then, to my surprise, she tilted her face up and pressed her small, puckered lips against my cheek! She had already kissed me twice that evening. The one in the bathtub had been on the mouth and taken both of us by surprise. The second had also been on my cheek when she first laid down on top of me. A token of gratitude for letting her join the sleepover. But this latest one was borne more out of genuine adoration than mere gratitude.
Once she started, the affectionate teen couldn't seem to stop kissing me. In between excited coo's, her soft lips found my cheek over and over - dappling different spots with warm, wet, enthusiastic blessings as her lower half built toward its arousing climax.
As if I didn't have enough to deal with, now my cheek was tingling, too! And this urge to buck my hips into the air kept washing over me. That's how turned on I was. I kept still and remained a passive participant, but it took a monumental effort. Luckily, the one thing an Askis man can always do is exercise discipline, even when his own body is fighting against him. Especially then.
I may have been able to control my hips, but my itchy fingers were another matter. Mary's petals, for example, coated with her juices and quite slippery by now, were just too tempting a target to ignore. When my hand muscles twitched and accidentally squeezed her bulging peach, she answered with a muffled, high-pitched moan. I forgot she had been gripping my shoulder until she squeezed it hard and started to pant audibly.
Cindy expressed her giddy excitement without restraint - cooing openly and offering adorable kisses of thanks to the boy who was helping her toward what I suspected was going to be her first ever orgasm.
Mary was on the same arousal track as her baby sister. It was cute how the older, more experienced teen held herself back and tried to maintain her composure. But all that side to side motion, rocking her most private parts gently against my palm, seemed to be bearing pleasurable fruit inside her - more than she could bear. It sure sounded to me like she wouldn't be able to keep this up much longer.
However, Mary wasn't the first of them to unleash her body's sensual craving. Wasn't Cindy either. I should have known Beatrice would be the first one to reach her crisis. She had kicked off the squirming and had a definite head start on her sisters.
"Mmmf-fffm-fmfF," the naked teen meowed into her pillow. She had the waistband of my boxers in a death grip, as if afraid that if she let go she would be swept away by her own arousal and lost forever.
She increased her pace - wiggling her hips back and forth with wild abandon. It didn't occur to her that there might be better, more efficient ways to produce the pleasurable sensations her body needed to reach its peak. It didn't occur to any of them; not that night.
I turned my head just as Bea's thighs gave a powerful flex and clamped tightly over my hand.
"mmm-mmm-MMM...MMMMWWWW FWMMNKIEEE!!!---" she cried. Then her voice got cut off and her whole body went rigid as a massive, shuddering orgasm wracked her virgin body.
When it finally ended, she came back to life with a gasp and raised her head from the pillow. Her eyes were frantic and wild as her oxygen-starved lungs sucked in heaving breaths. My hand was still clamped over her fluttering pussy and she was still gripping my boxer shorts. Our gazes met briefly in the darkness and I know she saw me. But then, to my utter surprise, her eyes rolled back into her head and her hips started rocking again. She wasn't finished!
I knew nothing about girls and arousal. But experience is the greatest teacher. An eager student, and a quick learner, I was its star pupil that night!
Mary came a few seconds later. With an unladylike moan, she issued a long, spectacular expression of all the pent-up stress and worry in her life. She needed this most of all. She took only a moment to recover before plunging deep into her lake of arousal in search of round two.
With my attention turned toward Bea, Cindy had lost access to my right cheek. But that didn't slow her down one bit. She just kept showing affection to whatever parts of me she could reach. Her soft, eager lips found the lower edge of my left cheek just as inviting. Then my jaw. Then my neck. Then my collarbone. Then it happened.
"Oh Frankie, oh Frankie, Oh...my! I...I...eeeeEEEEE!!!"
Her squirming thighs clamped down on my leg and she began to shudder like her sisters had. The orgasm she had worked so hard for had finally arrived. But too impatient to stop and recover, she immediately started working on another one. She was like a stone skipping across the surface of her arousal - her eager little hips never stopped moving. All the while, her precious cries of unbridled ecstasy was music to my ears.
I settled my head into my pillow and stared at the ceiling even as my excluded cock throbbed and complained. But I ignored it. This night was about my girls. The small role I was playing in bringing them satisfaction, even though it meant postponing my own pleasure, made me burst with pride.
My lips curled into a smile. Any other fourteen year old boy would trade places with me in a heartbeat. But they hadn't earned it. None of this had come easy or by happenstance. I was only here because of the great personal risk I had taken to assist - first Mary, then her sisters. Only after I had proven myself a capable provider and protector in every way did they open up and start to trust me.
I alone had worked out what each of them truly needed. I dealt with interlopers on their behalf. When they thought their burdens were too great to bear and started to collapse under the stress, I was always there to pick them up. Lighten their load or stiffen their spine - whatever the occasion called for. Whatever their need, Frankie could provide. I fed them. I sheltered them. I bathed them. I masturbated them. And unlike my father who only had to take care of one, I was currently servicing three Conyor girls at the same time. Take that, old man!
Re: The Last Straw (new 1/25)
Very well worth the wait! Keep it up! I look forward to what happens next. I wonder how the girls will react to each other in the light of day knowing that each took pleasure in the dark. Will they work together to return the favor or will they compete for more attention?
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neverdoubted
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Re: The Last Straw (new 1/25)
Thank you. That's an interesting question. Which would you guess?Dbskr123 wrote: Sun Jan 25, 2026 4:47 pm Very well worth the wait! Keep it up! I look forward to what happens next. I wonder how the girls will react to each other in the light of day knowing that each took pleasure in the dark. Will they work together to return the favor or will they compete for more attention?
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Freesub
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Re: The Last Straw (new 1/25)
Absolutely spectacular chapter. Best in a long time.neverdoubted wrote: Sun Jan 25, 2026 5:07 pmThank you. That's an interesting question. Which would you guess?Dbskr123 wrote: Sun Jan 25, 2026 4:47 pm Very well worth the wait! Keep it up! I look forward to what happens next. I wonder how the girls will react to each other in the light of day knowing that each took pleasure in the dark. Will they work together to return the favor or will they compete for more attention?
I believe it will be both - they can co-operate and compete at the same time
My real incidents:
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Somebody
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Re: The Last Straw (new 1/25)
Outstanding as always. What an amazing scene. I do find myself a little confused about the layout, it seems like Cindy is straddling his leg, but then she's also able to reach up and kiss him and press their chests together? But at no point is there any mention of his erection pressing into her tummy, or her causing it to potentially go off.. probably just me being bad at following it. Still great.
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neverdoubted
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Re: The Last Straw (new 1/25)
She's only straddling one of his legs, so a little off to one side. Not directly on top of him. She hasn't discovered that position...yet. 
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neverdoubted
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neverdoubted
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The Last Straw - Chapter 46
I awoke before dawn with a dreamy smile on my face and an impossibly stiff morning erection. Though I was now conscious, the intensely erotic fantasies that had accompanied me through my slumber lingered and refused to fade. No, not dreams. Not fantasies. That's why it wasn't fading. It had all been real.
Even after blinking myself awake, I couldn't make out anything in the still dark room. But I could feel two warm, soft females snuggled up on either side of me and one more purring on my chest like a contented kitten. No one had pulled up the covers. But even naked, my girls had stayed cozy and warm thanks to our shared body heat. Frankie always provides.
Since it was so early and I didn't want to move yet, I went over my mental checklist for departure. Patricia and Frank were booked at the Tuck Me Inn for a couple more nights until the car was fixed. But us kids were checking out permanently. That meant everything we weren't taking with us on the camping trip needed to be transferred to their unit before we left.
My grumbling stomach reminded me that I hadn't eaten enough yesterday. And at the very idea of breakfast, my mouth started watering. But that brought up another issue; I now had three naked girls to consider. It would crush poor Cindy if I gave her sisters something to wear to breakfast but didn't have anything to offer her.
I briefly considered dividing Patricia's nightgown into even smaller pieces. If I took some fabric from Mary's and some from Bea's, perhaps I could somehow craft the scraps into a third gown. But the sheer fabric was just so delicate, and my sewing skills weren't that advanced. I also rejected the idea of borrowing another one from next door. I was resourceful and wanted to figure this one out without my father's help.
Chewing on the problem, I untangled myself from the sleeping beauties, climbed out of bed with a stretch, and entered the bathroom. It was one thing for a cute girl to attend a communal breakfast wearing a see-through nightgown with nothing underneath. But for a teen boy to show up in his boxers sporting a raging hard-on would be unacceptable. So, after brushing my teeth and thoroughly washing my hands, I put on my day clothes and returned to the bedroom.
I hated to wake the sleeping girls, but Mr. Fleemer was coming to pick us up. It would be rude if we weren't ready to go when he arrived. So, I turned on the bedside lamp and mustered my stepsisters by barking, "Chow time in ten - wheels up in forty."
They started out that morning acting strange. Notably subdued and quieter than normal, and not just because they were still half asleep. I wondered how last night would change things between us. Being the rock upon which the three horny virgins had expressed their pent-up sexual energy. The intimate experience had made us closer and opened my eyes. But did the girls now see me differently as well? I was nervous to find out.
Though they were nearly silent waking up and getting around, their lewd whimpers from last night still echoed loudly in my ears and stirred my libido. The three of them had collectively achieved so many orgasms in the dark that I had lost count of them. No one would argue that I had earned at least one for my troubles. I located my bandana on the slim chance of working in a quick session with my talented cranking assistant before we left - if there was enough time. When Bea saw me folding it, she stopped and stared - her eyes kind of glazing over with her lower lip clamped between her pearly white teeth. Only after I tucked it away in my pack did she snap out of her daze. With a blush forming on her cheeks, she scurried away into the bathroom.
By now, I had worked out what I felt was a clever solution to Cindy's morning meal attire. I retrieved my sewing kit and, commandeering one of the cheap pillowcases which I was sure the Tuck Me Inn would never miss, I got out the scissors and went to work making it into a simple breakfast gown.
Cindy sensed something important happening and came closer to watch over my shoulder. She hadn't been there when I split Patricia's gown into two articles for Mary and Bea. In fact, she had been completely absent for breakfast yesterday. Today, was about making sure she didn't get left out.
The hardest part was cutting a clean neckline so the top hole wouldn't look like an accidental tear. I also had to make several extra cuts around the arm holes because they kept coming out lopsided. The finished product, a plain, white, linen tunic with no sleeves and only slightly ragged openings, was little on the skimpy side. And when I first held it up, it looked alarmingly short - more like a shirt than a gown. But Cindy was small. It would suffice through the end of breakfast.
Satisfied with my handiwork, I stood up and presented it to her. Her face lit up at my considerate gift. For a girl to receive her first article of clothing after an extended period of forced nudity is always a significant milestone.
Her adorable breasts grew in prominence as she raised her arms and stretched the little piece of rectangular linen over her head. After her arms found the correct holes and slid out, her head and smiling face appeared through the top opening. Lowering the gown the rest of the way down her otherwise naked body, the precious teen looked fearfully at me. When I gave her a once-over then nodded my approval, all worry fled and her dimpled smile came rushing back.
Her face was just beaming as she modeled her cute new gown for me. The simple garment looked positively radiant adorning her flawless form. I admit it did come out much shorter than I intended. I didn't have the heart to tell her that if she lifted her arms even a little bit - to fix a slipping shoulder strap or smooth a wayward strand of hair - the lower hem would rise and reveal not only her puckered innocence but also her sweet lolly; two of the most mouth-watering creations known to man.
If she had been flat-chested, it might have been just long enough. But as was a common physical trait among Conyor women, the swell of her proud, growing breasts hoarded more than their fair share of the fabric and kept the gown from being more modest in front.
"Here's yours, Mary," I called next, pulling her half of Patricia’s gauzy nightgown out of my pack. This was an important test of our new dressing arrangement. Instead of trading for clothes every morning, I was choosing her outfits from now on - deciding what she wore to breakfast and beyond.
"Very well," she stated as she took the article; offering her opinion even though it didn't matter. With a dismissive sniff, she slipped it on over her head. There was a cold formality to her demeanor. As if she were a disinterested countess receiving the product of a nameless seamstress in her employ.
"Very well," I replied, my lips curling in amusement at her obvious posturing. She could act all grown up, as if she were above all this clothing silliness, but I knew her heart. Behind the facade of not caring, she clung to her precious modesty and was utterly desperate to cover her nakedness. But because she never made eye contact and turned away too quickly, she didn't catch my mocking smirk.
Bea happily took the other portion of the gown when it was offered to her. The two of us had never engaged in any trades. She had been fully dependent on my kindness from the beginning of her nude punishment. And this was only article of clothing I had ever let her wear, other than the occasional bandana!
Now that my girls were all dressed for breakfast, I opened the door and led them outside. It was quite early and still mostly dark. The air brisk, but calm. Drawing in a deep breath of the thick atmosphere, you could tell it was going to be a hot summer day just as soon as the sun got around to shining. A great day for a shady walk through the woods.
Cindy huddled close to me for warmth as we made our way to the dining room. Every time I checked on her, she was beaming back at me with those bright eyes and cute dimples. The look of sheer adoration on her face made me feel like I was the most important person in her world. After last night, I probably was. I got a feeling that she was going to be spending a lot of time clinging to my elbow and keeping her night-time activity partner close at hand.
The breakfast area was sparsely populated. It was too early yet for families, but clusters of older men scattered around the dining room perked up at the appearance of three beautiful girls in skimpy nighties.
As soon as she saw the audience, Mary immediately tugged her hem lower and draped an arm across her chest. As a covering for her pretty round nipples, the thin gauze was less than adequate. Bea was mostly just happy that she got to wear anything at all. The only time her gown seemed to bother her was when she was holding something. Because of where I had placed the arm holes, when she had to carry a tray for example, it lifted the lower hem nearly to her waist and left her flashing her entire bottom half to the admirers. But those times only lasted until she got back to the table and could set the food or drinks down.
Cindy ended up having the best time. She rarely got any attention whenever her stunning older sisters were around. But Bea and Mary were too shy to engage with any of the men and kept their heads bowed. That left the adorable little social butterfly to flit around the room soaking up compliments. As the baby of the family, her self-esteem had not suffered the way Mary's had growing up. People were always reminding her how pretty she was and what a lovely young woman she was growing up to be. She thrived on the affirmation and was beaming with pride by the end of the meal.
The sun was just peeking over the horizon as we walked back to the room. Mr. Fleemer would be arriving very soon to pick us up and take us far away from civilization for two nights and three days. Camping was outside their comfort zone and wouldn't have been a natural fit for any of them.
I had survival skills and plenty of camping experience to fall back on. I also had a map and knew exactly where to find our campsite. And I also had clothes. Out there, the nude campers had no choice but to let me supply their every need. Without my stewardship and protection, any of them could get hurt or quickly become hopelessly lost - literally naked babes in the woods.
I recalled with a snicker what Mr. Fleemer had told me the day before while he was pointing out landmarks and trails on his copy of the map.
"You'll be just about a far out as you can go and still be on surveyed land. See this tributary here? Across the west bank is nothing but hundreds of miles of untouched wilderness. Virgin territory."
Buddy, you have no idea!
I was going to collect the gowns and put the girls to work helping me ready the room for departure, but when I approached Mary, she clutched hers protectively and refused to give it up.
"Frankie, we need to talk first," she said, nodding toward the bathroom - the only place where we could be in private.
I frowned. Every time she got ahold of something to wear, she fought to keep it. Or maybe this was something else. She had been acting weird all morning. I reluctantly let her lead me into the bathroom, gearing up for a confrontation.
"If this is about clothes," I said as soon as she had shut the door, "I can save you the trouble. I have your outfit for today picked out, and you're going to wear it without arguing just like we agreed. But it's not time yet. And if you don't like it, maybe it will convince you to think twice before stealing next time."
"It's not about that," she replied. Picking at the hem of her gown, she shuffled nervously where she stood, but did not elaborate.
"Then what is it," I eventually asked, throwing up my hands in exasperation.
She took a deep breath, then walked over and turned on the sink. Whatever she had to say, she didn't want her nosy sisters eavesdropping.
"Frankie," she said with her sternest voice and her nose in the air, "last night was...that can't happen again."
The hell it can't! It sure sounded to me like she was giving me an order. As the oldest, she was used to being in charge and having us listen to her when she spoke. But things had changed. She couldn't just pull rank and boss me around like she was used to doing. She was crazy if she thought I would give up the privilege of sharing a bed with three naked girls on her orders.
"What are you saying," I asked, crossing my arms defiantly and staring her down.
Now it made sense why she wanted to be dressed for this confrontation. When you're naked and helpless, it's harder to be treated like an equal. After a few tense seconds, she let out a shaky sigh.
"Listen," she answered, her confidence faltering. The word came out more a plea than a command, "I-I just don't think you should…touch me anymore."
Below her skimpy gown, her bare thighs clenched, and her knees tipped subtly inward.
"Why not," I argued, "I haven't done anything we didn't agree to. I didn't break my word. Are you trying to break yours?"
"NO!" she shot back, her eyes bulging. From a young age, it had been drilled into her - into all of us - the importance of honoring your word.
"Then why should I stop," I challenged, "it's not like anything bad happened last night. You liked it, didn't you?"
"Yes," she admitted, "but that was just a one-time thing."
"It didn't sound like one time to me," I teased.
She demurred and turned her head to the side - finding it easier to speak to the wall than directly to me. "It's just...when you t-touch me, I...I can't control myself."
So that's what this was about. With Mary Jane, it always came back to control. Of the Conyor sisters, Bea had always been the bossiest. But ever since she lost her clothes and surrendered our battle of wills, she was a different person. Supremely malleable and eager to please. Cindy was so carefree and exuberant by nature. And as the baby of the family, she was already wired to let someone else take charge and, well, baby her. But Mary was the firstborn. Giving up control was so much harder for her.
"It isn't fair to make me stop touching you," I insisted, "that was part of the deal. Maybe you would have more fun if you relaxed and let go a little. More like Bea and Cindy."
When she flinched, I sensed I had struck a nerve. Wrong thing to say. But in my defense, it wasn't like her to be jealous of her younger sisters.
"Or don't," I shrugged, "makes no different to me. But my touch never hurt anybody."
"Hmmmmm," she stifled a whine reminiscent of some of the distressed noises she had been making last night. Having been trained how to comport myself, I kept my composure. But I had to flex my jaw to keep from grinning.
"What do you want," I asked, barely holding in my exasperation. It wouldn't be the last time I asked that question of a woman and didn't get a straight answer.
"It just feels so-" she started to say, before cutting herself off with a blush. And when she raised her head, I saw the conflict in her eyes, "I just...don't know what to do."
That's when it hit me. She wasn't pulling rank or giving me orders. She was asking for help with feelings she didn't know how to handle. I had been her savior over these last few days. The only one who had come through for her when she needed it the most. She trusted me enough by now to confide in me and seek my advice on a very personal matter.
It took me a second to recalibrate. Dropping my combative stance and softening my tone, I stumbled through an answer even though everything I knew about feelings could fit on a greeting card. I just had to hope a sincere delivery would hide the fact that I was way out of my depth.
"You don't have to do anything, Mary. Follow your heart. It won't steer you wrong. And just...listen to your body. Do what comes natural and your instincts will guide you."
It sounded good to me, but I held my breath while she considered my words. She raised her gaze to look directly at me again - a good sign - and I could see her making up her mind about something. I had told her to follow her instincts and do whatever comes naturally. I guess I didn't expect her to take it to heart so quickly.
Her inner turmoil didn't completely go away, but the creases in her brow relaxed. When she took an assertive step forward, I thought she was leaving and sidestepped to get out from between her and the bathroom door. But she altered her course and kept advancing until the space between was gone.
When she got close enough, she reached out and wrapped her arms around me in a smothering hug. We had hugged a few times these last few days, so I wasn't surprised by it...until she kissed me.
"Thank you for...everything," she said. And then she thanked me with more than words. Puckering her full, plump lips, she pressed them lightly onto mine.
My eyes bulged as fireworks lit off in my brain. My first kiss with Cindy had been about the same length. But this one felt like it ended way too soon. And before I was finished, she was letting go of me and backing away. I watched her eyelids flutter open as a blush formed on her cheeks and realized that was probably her first time ever kissing a boy!
She smiled coyly and said something else which I didn't hear - or maybe I heard it, but my brain didn't process it. Only after she took her leave did I realize my lungs had seized up and I wasn't breathing.
"Holy mother of God," I cursed aloud, after sucking in a gasping breath. So much to process. I was in shock! A beautiful teen girl had just kissed me. No, not just beautiful. The most beautiful, most lusted after girl in our school. But what about before the kiss? Had she really just admitted, out loud and to my face, that my touches...turned her on?
The erotic image of Mary Jane laid out naked in the bath was seared into my brain. On her elbows and knees with her back arched as far as it would go. Her elegant neck straining to keep her nose in the air. Her creamy, ripe bottom, the only other part of her anatomy poking out of the water. Her plump sex thrust high in the air for easy bathing access.
I grunted as my erection lurched to full potency in my shorts. No time for that now. Stumbling to the sink, I splashed cold water on my face. All the while, my brain ran like crazy. Turning off the water, I raised up and looked into the mirror. My second kiss ever and my grinning lips were already begging for a chance to do it again!
Even after blinking myself awake, I couldn't make out anything in the still dark room. But I could feel two warm, soft females snuggled up on either side of me and one more purring on my chest like a contented kitten. No one had pulled up the covers. But even naked, my girls had stayed cozy and warm thanks to our shared body heat. Frankie always provides.
Since it was so early and I didn't want to move yet, I went over my mental checklist for departure. Patricia and Frank were booked at the Tuck Me Inn for a couple more nights until the car was fixed. But us kids were checking out permanently. That meant everything we weren't taking with us on the camping trip needed to be transferred to their unit before we left.
My grumbling stomach reminded me that I hadn't eaten enough yesterday. And at the very idea of breakfast, my mouth started watering. But that brought up another issue; I now had three naked girls to consider. It would crush poor Cindy if I gave her sisters something to wear to breakfast but didn't have anything to offer her.
I briefly considered dividing Patricia's nightgown into even smaller pieces. If I took some fabric from Mary's and some from Bea's, perhaps I could somehow craft the scraps into a third gown. But the sheer fabric was just so delicate, and my sewing skills weren't that advanced. I also rejected the idea of borrowing another one from next door. I was resourceful and wanted to figure this one out without my father's help.
Chewing on the problem, I untangled myself from the sleeping beauties, climbed out of bed with a stretch, and entered the bathroom. It was one thing for a cute girl to attend a communal breakfast wearing a see-through nightgown with nothing underneath. But for a teen boy to show up in his boxers sporting a raging hard-on would be unacceptable. So, after brushing my teeth and thoroughly washing my hands, I put on my day clothes and returned to the bedroom.
I hated to wake the sleeping girls, but Mr. Fleemer was coming to pick us up. It would be rude if we weren't ready to go when he arrived. So, I turned on the bedside lamp and mustered my stepsisters by barking, "Chow time in ten - wheels up in forty."
They started out that morning acting strange. Notably subdued and quieter than normal, and not just because they were still half asleep. I wondered how last night would change things between us. Being the rock upon which the three horny virgins had expressed their pent-up sexual energy. The intimate experience had made us closer and opened my eyes. But did the girls now see me differently as well? I was nervous to find out.
Though they were nearly silent waking up and getting around, their lewd whimpers from last night still echoed loudly in my ears and stirred my libido. The three of them had collectively achieved so many orgasms in the dark that I had lost count of them. No one would argue that I had earned at least one for my troubles. I located my bandana on the slim chance of working in a quick session with my talented cranking assistant before we left - if there was enough time. When Bea saw me folding it, she stopped and stared - her eyes kind of glazing over with her lower lip clamped between her pearly white teeth. Only after I tucked it away in my pack did she snap out of her daze. With a blush forming on her cheeks, she scurried away into the bathroom.
By now, I had worked out what I felt was a clever solution to Cindy's morning meal attire. I retrieved my sewing kit and, commandeering one of the cheap pillowcases which I was sure the Tuck Me Inn would never miss, I got out the scissors and went to work making it into a simple breakfast gown.
Cindy sensed something important happening and came closer to watch over my shoulder. She hadn't been there when I split Patricia's gown into two articles for Mary and Bea. In fact, she had been completely absent for breakfast yesterday. Today, was about making sure she didn't get left out.
The hardest part was cutting a clean neckline so the top hole wouldn't look like an accidental tear. I also had to make several extra cuts around the arm holes because they kept coming out lopsided. The finished product, a plain, white, linen tunic with no sleeves and only slightly ragged openings, was little on the skimpy side. And when I first held it up, it looked alarmingly short - more like a shirt than a gown. But Cindy was small. It would suffice through the end of breakfast.
Satisfied with my handiwork, I stood up and presented it to her. Her face lit up at my considerate gift. For a girl to receive her first article of clothing after an extended period of forced nudity is always a significant milestone.
Her adorable breasts grew in prominence as she raised her arms and stretched the little piece of rectangular linen over her head. After her arms found the correct holes and slid out, her head and smiling face appeared through the top opening. Lowering the gown the rest of the way down her otherwise naked body, the precious teen looked fearfully at me. When I gave her a once-over then nodded my approval, all worry fled and her dimpled smile came rushing back.
Her face was just beaming as she modeled her cute new gown for me. The simple garment looked positively radiant adorning her flawless form. I admit it did come out much shorter than I intended. I didn't have the heart to tell her that if she lifted her arms even a little bit - to fix a slipping shoulder strap or smooth a wayward strand of hair - the lower hem would rise and reveal not only her puckered innocence but also her sweet lolly; two of the most mouth-watering creations known to man.
If she had been flat-chested, it might have been just long enough. But as was a common physical trait among Conyor women, the swell of her proud, growing breasts hoarded more than their fair share of the fabric and kept the gown from being more modest in front.
"Here's yours, Mary," I called next, pulling her half of Patricia’s gauzy nightgown out of my pack. This was an important test of our new dressing arrangement. Instead of trading for clothes every morning, I was choosing her outfits from now on - deciding what she wore to breakfast and beyond.
"Very well," she stated as she took the article; offering her opinion even though it didn't matter. With a dismissive sniff, she slipped it on over her head. There was a cold formality to her demeanor. As if she were a disinterested countess receiving the product of a nameless seamstress in her employ.
"Very well," I replied, my lips curling in amusement at her obvious posturing. She could act all grown up, as if she were above all this clothing silliness, but I knew her heart. Behind the facade of not caring, she clung to her precious modesty and was utterly desperate to cover her nakedness. But because she never made eye contact and turned away too quickly, she didn't catch my mocking smirk.
Bea happily took the other portion of the gown when it was offered to her. The two of us had never engaged in any trades. She had been fully dependent on my kindness from the beginning of her nude punishment. And this was only article of clothing I had ever let her wear, other than the occasional bandana!
Now that my girls were all dressed for breakfast, I opened the door and led them outside. It was quite early and still mostly dark. The air brisk, but calm. Drawing in a deep breath of the thick atmosphere, you could tell it was going to be a hot summer day just as soon as the sun got around to shining. A great day for a shady walk through the woods.
Cindy huddled close to me for warmth as we made our way to the dining room. Every time I checked on her, she was beaming back at me with those bright eyes and cute dimples. The look of sheer adoration on her face made me feel like I was the most important person in her world. After last night, I probably was. I got a feeling that she was going to be spending a lot of time clinging to my elbow and keeping her night-time activity partner close at hand.
The breakfast area was sparsely populated. It was too early yet for families, but clusters of older men scattered around the dining room perked up at the appearance of three beautiful girls in skimpy nighties.
As soon as she saw the audience, Mary immediately tugged her hem lower and draped an arm across her chest. As a covering for her pretty round nipples, the thin gauze was less than adequate. Bea was mostly just happy that she got to wear anything at all. The only time her gown seemed to bother her was when she was holding something. Because of where I had placed the arm holes, when she had to carry a tray for example, it lifted the lower hem nearly to her waist and left her flashing her entire bottom half to the admirers. But those times only lasted until she got back to the table and could set the food or drinks down.
Cindy ended up having the best time. She rarely got any attention whenever her stunning older sisters were around. But Bea and Mary were too shy to engage with any of the men and kept their heads bowed. That left the adorable little social butterfly to flit around the room soaking up compliments. As the baby of the family, her self-esteem had not suffered the way Mary's had growing up. People were always reminding her how pretty she was and what a lovely young woman she was growing up to be. She thrived on the affirmation and was beaming with pride by the end of the meal.
The sun was just peeking over the horizon as we walked back to the room. Mr. Fleemer would be arriving very soon to pick us up and take us far away from civilization for two nights and three days. Camping was outside their comfort zone and wouldn't have been a natural fit for any of them.
I had survival skills and plenty of camping experience to fall back on. I also had a map and knew exactly where to find our campsite. And I also had clothes. Out there, the nude campers had no choice but to let me supply their every need. Without my stewardship and protection, any of them could get hurt or quickly become hopelessly lost - literally naked babes in the woods.
I recalled with a snicker what Mr. Fleemer had told me the day before while he was pointing out landmarks and trails on his copy of the map.
"You'll be just about a far out as you can go and still be on surveyed land. See this tributary here? Across the west bank is nothing but hundreds of miles of untouched wilderness. Virgin territory."
Buddy, you have no idea!
I was going to collect the gowns and put the girls to work helping me ready the room for departure, but when I approached Mary, she clutched hers protectively and refused to give it up.
"Frankie, we need to talk first," she said, nodding toward the bathroom - the only place where we could be in private.
I frowned. Every time she got ahold of something to wear, she fought to keep it. Or maybe this was something else. She had been acting weird all morning. I reluctantly let her lead me into the bathroom, gearing up for a confrontation.
"If this is about clothes," I said as soon as she had shut the door, "I can save you the trouble. I have your outfit for today picked out, and you're going to wear it without arguing just like we agreed. But it's not time yet. And if you don't like it, maybe it will convince you to think twice before stealing next time."
"It's not about that," she replied. Picking at the hem of her gown, she shuffled nervously where she stood, but did not elaborate.
"Then what is it," I eventually asked, throwing up my hands in exasperation.
She took a deep breath, then walked over and turned on the sink. Whatever she had to say, she didn't want her nosy sisters eavesdropping.
"Frankie," she said with her sternest voice and her nose in the air, "last night was...that can't happen again."
The hell it can't! It sure sounded to me like she was giving me an order. As the oldest, she was used to being in charge and having us listen to her when she spoke. But things had changed. She couldn't just pull rank and boss me around like she was used to doing. She was crazy if she thought I would give up the privilege of sharing a bed with three naked girls on her orders.
"What are you saying," I asked, crossing my arms defiantly and staring her down.
Now it made sense why she wanted to be dressed for this confrontation. When you're naked and helpless, it's harder to be treated like an equal. After a few tense seconds, she let out a shaky sigh.
"Listen," she answered, her confidence faltering. The word came out more a plea than a command, "I-I just don't think you should…touch me anymore."
Below her skimpy gown, her bare thighs clenched, and her knees tipped subtly inward.
"Why not," I argued, "I haven't done anything we didn't agree to. I didn't break my word. Are you trying to break yours?"
"NO!" she shot back, her eyes bulging. From a young age, it had been drilled into her - into all of us - the importance of honoring your word.
"Then why should I stop," I challenged, "it's not like anything bad happened last night. You liked it, didn't you?"
"Yes," she admitted, "but that was just a one-time thing."
"It didn't sound like one time to me," I teased.
She demurred and turned her head to the side - finding it easier to speak to the wall than directly to me. "It's just...when you t-touch me, I...I can't control myself."
So that's what this was about. With Mary Jane, it always came back to control. Of the Conyor sisters, Bea had always been the bossiest. But ever since she lost her clothes and surrendered our battle of wills, she was a different person. Supremely malleable and eager to please. Cindy was so carefree and exuberant by nature. And as the baby of the family, she was already wired to let someone else take charge and, well, baby her. But Mary was the firstborn. Giving up control was so much harder for her.
"It isn't fair to make me stop touching you," I insisted, "that was part of the deal. Maybe you would have more fun if you relaxed and let go a little. More like Bea and Cindy."
When she flinched, I sensed I had struck a nerve. Wrong thing to say. But in my defense, it wasn't like her to be jealous of her younger sisters.
"Or don't," I shrugged, "makes no different to me. But my touch never hurt anybody."
"Hmmmmm," she stifled a whine reminiscent of some of the distressed noises she had been making last night. Having been trained how to comport myself, I kept my composure. But I had to flex my jaw to keep from grinning.
"What do you want," I asked, barely holding in my exasperation. It wouldn't be the last time I asked that question of a woman and didn't get a straight answer.
"It just feels so-" she started to say, before cutting herself off with a blush. And when she raised her head, I saw the conflict in her eyes, "I just...don't know what to do."
That's when it hit me. She wasn't pulling rank or giving me orders. She was asking for help with feelings she didn't know how to handle. I had been her savior over these last few days. The only one who had come through for her when she needed it the most. She trusted me enough by now to confide in me and seek my advice on a very personal matter.
It took me a second to recalibrate. Dropping my combative stance and softening my tone, I stumbled through an answer even though everything I knew about feelings could fit on a greeting card. I just had to hope a sincere delivery would hide the fact that I was way out of my depth.
"You don't have to do anything, Mary. Follow your heart. It won't steer you wrong. And just...listen to your body. Do what comes natural and your instincts will guide you."
It sounded good to me, but I held my breath while she considered my words. She raised her gaze to look directly at me again - a good sign - and I could see her making up her mind about something. I had told her to follow her instincts and do whatever comes naturally. I guess I didn't expect her to take it to heart so quickly.
Her inner turmoil didn't completely go away, but the creases in her brow relaxed. When she took an assertive step forward, I thought she was leaving and sidestepped to get out from between her and the bathroom door. But she altered her course and kept advancing until the space between was gone.
When she got close enough, she reached out and wrapped her arms around me in a smothering hug. We had hugged a few times these last few days, so I wasn't surprised by it...until she kissed me.
"Thank you for...everything," she said. And then she thanked me with more than words. Puckering her full, plump lips, she pressed them lightly onto mine.
My eyes bulged as fireworks lit off in my brain. My first kiss with Cindy had been about the same length. But this one felt like it ended way too soon. And before I was finished, she was letting go of me and backing away. I watched her eyelids flutter open as a blush formed on her cheeks and realized that was probably her first time ever kissing a boy!
She smiled coyly and said something else which I didn't hear - or maybe I heard it, but my brain didn't process it. Only after she took her leave did I realize my lungs had seized up and I wasn't breathing.
"Holy mother of God," I cursed aloud, after sucking in a gasping breath. So much to process. I was in shock! A beautiful teen girl had just kissed me. No, not just beautiful. The most beautiful, most lusted after girl in our school. But what about before the kiss? Had she really just admitted, out loud and to my face, that my touches...turned her on?
The erotic image of Mary Jane laid out naked in the bath was seared into my brain. On her elbows and knees with her back arched as far as it would go. Her elegant neck straining to keep her nose in the air. Her creamy, ripe bottom, the only other part of her anatomy poking out of the water. Her plump sex thrust high in the air for easy bathing access.
I grunted as my erection lurched to full potency in my shorts. No time for that now. Stumbling to the sink, I splashed cold water on my face. All the while, my brain ran like crazy. Turning off the water, I raised up and looked into the mirror. My second kiss ever and my grinning lips were already begging for a chance to do it again!
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Drax6119
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Re: The Last Straw (new 2/8)
This..is BEYOND amazing. It's rapidly grown into my ATF here.
Frankie's going to have himself QUITE a time on the camping trip...
Frankie's going to have himself QUITE a time on the camping trip...
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