Reflexively, I had my hands up. The towel was wrapped loosely around my waist, but other than that I was naked to the world – at least the house. Courtney, under the light of the old-fashioned bathroom, was still in her funeral attire, minus the sport coat. The tight black blouse strained to contain the girl’s ripe breasts, the color of which were caramel, from many tanning sessions. The thigh-length skirt still molded to her body and, surprisingly, she was still strapped into her black high heels. Most of her makeup had been washed off, except for the thin mascara that seemed to eternally circle her eyes. And her dark, dyed black hair seemed thicker, longer now that it had ever been, like a wild mane. The full lips, the upturned nose, the familiar sneer, the evil tan; all of it combined with her haughty, tight body to communicate something arrestingly unattainable. It occurred to me suddenly that I was fucked, because her grandfather’s straight razor was in her hand, and the hand was at my skin. And she didn’t blink.
I swallowed. The blade rose and lowered on my adam’s apple. “Is this because I looked at your tits?”
“What do you think?”
I paused. I wasn’t sure if she wanted me to answer that. So I said, “This might be because we… had sex?”
“You fucked my ass in my sister’s apartment.”
“You’re upset about that.”
The knife pressed against my neck and I tried to raise my hands in as unthreatening a manner as possible. “Sorry- Sorry-”
“Where’s the money?”
“It’s not here.”
She pressed harder with the knife. Enough to actually draw blood. “Whoa! Why would I bring it here?”
“I gave you what you wanted. It’s your fucking turn.”
“Okay, I’m sorry, I didn’t know you wanted it now.”
She surprised me by taking a swift stride forward and taking my shoulder in her other hand. The grip was tight. She was half a head shorter than me but her eyes burned up to mine with an unmistakable malice, and her hands did not waver. She was so close to my face I could have slipped my lips into the soft tresses of her bangs. The smell that came off of her was some thick but unsweetened perfume. I recognized, too, the vague smell of sweat, her sweat; in the tiny room evidence that she was human, and not entirely cold. Her breasts, unavoidably, brushed the bare skin of my chest. The two tight pinpricks I felt through the fabric alerted me to the fact that she wasn’t wearing a bra. In blind defiance of my fear, my cock began to harden.
She practically spit her next words: “When did you think I wanted it?”
“It’s in the bank – I told you.”
“You fucker.” Her eyes searched mine for an interminable moment. Then she seemed to decide something. “You’re never going to give it to me, are you?”
The knife between us was like a third person interrupting the conversation. Everything I could think to say was stopped by its contact with my skin. I said, “Of course I’m going to give it to you. The knife is very convincing.”
“I don’t believe you,” she said, without humor. “Get on the floor.”
“Hm?”
“Get. On the floor.”
My palms towards her, my eyes widened slightly, trying to grasp what was happening. “What do you want me to do?”
“I want you to get on the floor. Lie on your back.”
I took a deep breath. There wasn’t much for me to do otherwise, so I slowly bent at the knees, and went down on one, then the other. In the process, the towel caught under my right knee and fell off, piling on the floor behind me. “Uh-” I started but Courtney said, “Leave it. Get back.”
So, naked now, hands still raised, I slowly lowered them to sit on the big, thick bathroom rug that lay between the sink and the bathtub. Courtney came with me, the knife ever at my neck, her other hand digging into my shoulder. We lowered together to the bathroom floor until I was on my back, the towel splayed out beneath me on the bathroom rug, and Courtney slipped her legs over my hips, just below my cock, and sat on me.
Courtney bent over me with the knife. “You’re already hard.”
“I can’t help it.”
“I know,” she said. She reached down with her right hand and tugged at her skirt. The fabric clung to her so tightly she had to pull at one side first, then the other, then back again, to get it up her legs. When she’d tugged and pulled enough I could see her brown, bare thighs under the bunched skirt. A sheer pair of black panties hugged her bald pussy. It was completely shaved, and just visible through the nearly translucent fabric. She was practically sitting on my balls, and that sight made my dick grow harder. “Hope you’re enjoying yourself,” she said.
“I have a lot of mixed emotions right now.”
“Shut up.” She brought her right hand up and planted it beside my head. She leaned forward. Suddenly I felt the silk material of her panties shift over the base of my cock. The fabric tingled where it slid over me, and I could feel the unmistakable cleft where the panties had ridden up into her vagina. Courtney dragged the panties over my cock, slowly, until she reached the head, and sat on it. Buried under her pussy, my cock was swamped by the heat that emanated from inside her. “Does that make your dick hard?”
I didn’t answer. But my cock twitched with a reflexive throb.
“That’s what I thought,” Courtney said. “Rip my panties.”
It was hard to know where to look. With the straight razor against my throat it was dangerous to look anywhere but up into her cold eyes. Her heavy tits pushed her shirt down, until they hung over me, ripe and within reach. But I didn’t dare move my hands. You know, in case Courtney was crazy.
I replied with a clueless, “Huh?”
“Rip. My. Panties.” The words hissed through her gritted teeth. “Asshole.”
“I don’t understand.”
She dragged the razor lightly over my skin. “Shut up and do it.”
I reached up. My hands couldn’t find her by sight, so I lifted my fingers into her stomach. She made a face but seemed to understand it, so she allowed me to drag my fingers down her waist, and the bunched up skirt, until I reached the gossamer material between her legs. The straps that bound her hips were barely there at all. I reached deeper, until I brushed her mound, and pulled the fabric between my fingers.
I tore them. They ripped so easily I wondered what woman in her right mind would buy such fragile things, but the pulsations deep in my cock cleared that mystery up right away. In Courtney’s eyes was the registered shock of feeling our bare genitals suddenly in contact, but she didn’t do more than issue a tight gasp from her mouth. I ripped, and continued to rip until the panties were in tatters. They still hung around her hips; I hadn’t touched the band; but her pussy now lay atop my cock, its lips snugly parted over my shaft.
She shifted to roll me between them.
“Was it worth it? Being a prick?”
My cock all but inside Courtney it was difficult to answer.
She leaned down until our noses almost touched. “Are you going to give me the money?”
“Yes,” I said.
“I don’t believe you. And I fucking hate you.”
“Is that right?”
She pressed the knife against me to shut me up.
“Here’s what I’m going to do.” She reared back until she was sitting on me again. My cock was still hard, flattened against my stomach and underneath her pussy. She laid her right hand over my mouth. “Lick it,” she said.
I did.
“More,” she said. I licked Courtney’s palm. I licked the creases in it and the spaces between her fingers. Then she reached down, underneath her, and lifted herself up on her knees. The breach of contact between us alerted me to the coolness of the bathroom air. Above me, Courtney rubbed her palm into her labia. The fingers slipped in. She returned her palm to my mouth, laying her pussy over my cock again as she leaned down. “Lick it,” she said. I did. This time I tasted her pussy on her hand, and my mouth lingered over the taste of her fingers. She pulled back after I planted a kiss in her palm. Courtney rubbed the hand into her cunt again, coating herself with my saliva. She pushed her hand into my mouth. “Lick it,” she said, more hoarsely than before. This time her thighs trembled a bit when she rubbed herself. “Again,” she said. My lips and tongue danced over her fingers. This time when she reached down she took hold of my dick.
Her moist fingers clenched, rubbing my head until the precum oozed from the slit and mixed with the saliva.
“You want to fuck me?” she said. She finally pulled my dick upright. It bulged against her belly. “You were staring at me all day.”
I didn’t deny it.
“You fucked my mouth… You fucked my ass…” With every word her thighs contracted and released. I felt her heartbeat through her stomach, and every contraction was simultaneous with a tight stroke of my cock, like a rough caress. “You had everything. And you still fuck my sister, don’t you?”
“Yes,” I said, though it was more of a groan.
She leaned forward slightly, not so easy to do with my cock pressed stiffly into her. She was relentless, squeezing it in her hand. If Tara hadn’t blown me minutes ago I would be ready to cum, but the earlier ejaculation had relaxed my body. It did nothing, however, for my burning urge to reach up and pull that blouse down her expansive chest. But she kept the knife to me at all times. “You just want more… More, don’t you?” She looked down. I could see her looking at my cock but I couldn’t remove my eyes from her dark head. I felt the first drips from her pussy land in my pubic thatch. “Were you going to make me fuck you?” she said. “You want my pussy? You want my pussy?” She rubbed my shaft against her vagina. I had to lean my head back against the tile. “You’re going to get it, you fucker.”