Tapped Desire

Brianne jogged up and onto her back porch. While catching her breath, she noticed the car parked in her driveway; one she’d never seen before. Since her folks were spending the week in Las Vegas, it couldn’t be someone visiting them. She wandered over for a closer look. UCLA decals adorned every window. Billy! Her brother must have come home for the weekend—in someone else’s car. As a sophomore, he lived in a fraternity despite the fact that his family lived right here in L.A., a needless expense for her parents. She huffed. Having graduated from high school this last spring, Brianne had hoped to enroll there too, but with family finances strained, her parents demanded she work a year first to help defray the cost.

Two things inevitably happened whenever Billy came home: a load of laundry was washed, followed in short order by a nap. Figuring he was currently engaged in the latter, she went to the bathroom, stripped off her jogging gear, and showered. She dried her hair, wrapped it in a towel, wound a second one around her body, and headed up the hall toward her bedroom.

“Brianne!” It was Billy, hollering from the living room.

“Hold your horses, bro,” she yelled, “I’m not dressed.”

“Come in here anyway.”

Cinching the towel more tightly, she sauntered into the room, irritated by his insistence. “Good God!” she screeched. Two guys were there with him. “Goddamn you, Billy,” she scolded, bending forward, vainly trying to shield her body, her face burning a bright red. “You asshole!” she growled at her laughing brother.

Her anger was feigned, however. Her predicament made her heart race. Both guys were cute, and Billy had just given her the perfect excuse to pose half-naked in front of them. It was the stuff of fantasy.

“Sis! Meet Mark and Elliot, fraternity brothers. With the folks out of town, I thought I’d have them over for the weekend.” He turned to his friends. “Guys, this is Brianne, my baby sister.”

“Who obviously wasn’t expecting company,” she sputtered, facing their guests. Although one of them seemed embarrassed by her brother’s prank, the other was grinning ear-to-ear. Not wanting her brother to think he’d bested her, she stood up straight, exposing all but a few inches of her thigh and more than a little cleavage.

Breathing was suddenly difficult. “So, which is which?”

The shy one waved, “Hi, Elliot here.”

The grinning one stood, walked over to her, and held out his hand. “And I’m Mark,” he said, his rakish stare penetrating her innermost thoughts.

Her smirk matched his as, with eyes locked, she shook his hand, each fully well that by reaching out the way she was she was exposing even more tit.

“Now,” she said, looking at the other two, “if you gentlemen don’t mind, I think I should find more appropriate attire.”

She headed back down the hall, exaggerating her sway. Eat your hearts out, boys. Just don’t get your hopes up. She closed her bedroom door, and pulse pounding, made her way to her mirror to assess the view she’d just proffered the men. She liked what she saw. Sexy—very sexy. Something clearly not lost on the one called Mark.

She unknotted her towel, letting it tumble to the floor. What if he’d done that? She stared at her reflection, wondering what it would be like to have him standing beside her. Caressing her breasts, she imagined him pinching her nipples. Mark, no, please. Stop! You shouldn’t! She backed across the room, her eyes never leaving the mirror, pretending Mark was pushing her toward the bed. She fell back on her mattress, knees bent and legs spread. In her mind’s eye he hovered above her, slowly removing his clothing. Once he was naked, he crawled between her outstretched thighs and guided his rigid cock to her opening. Mark, no—we can’t, she protested to no avail.

In reality, it was her middle finger that slid up her vagina, not Mark’s penis, but why quibble when something made you feel this good.

She spent the better part of that day obsessing over Mark, unable to shake the look he’d given her when they’d shaken hands. It was forever etched in her memory. She doubted he’d require hands to disrobe her—those eyes were surely up to the task.

She’d dressed in atypical garb—hot pants that were a size too small. She’d almost returned the day she bought them, but laziness intervened. Today, that sloth was being rewarded as she found excuse after excuse to flaunt herself in front of the guys. Her constant imposing was annoying her brother, but after that stunt he pulled when he arrived, she had no sympathy for him. Judging by Mark’s leer whenever he glanced her way, at least one of their houseguests didn’t share Billy’s vexation.

She wasn’t sure what it was about Mark she found so alluring. Sure, he was cute—but so were lots of other guys. She concluded it was the way he looked at her that affected her so—his ability to mentally undress her with nothing but a glance. It made her crotch come alive every time he did it. She finally crashed their scene one too many times. “Come on, guys,” Billy said, shaking his head at his sister. “There’s a pub I want to show you that gives chicks free drinks on Friday nights. It’s usually full of hot women.”

Five minutes later, they were out the door.

She spent her evening surfing television. Nothing captured her interest—with no show capable of tearing her thoughts from Mark. Frustrated, she finally flipped the channel to a “Late Night” movie. She’d never watched one before, but then, she rarely had the house to herself. Although its raunchy theme made her horny, the sex scenes weren’t nearly explicit enough to satisfy her yearning. Tired and horny, she abandoned the TV in favor of a hot bath—her favorite kind of hot bath, one of those where she positioned her crotch directly under the faucet, propped her heels against the wall, and let the pouring water dance across her sweet parts.

Afterwards, while drying off, she heard male voices. Shit! My clothes are in the bedroom.

“One of you gets the guest room,” Billy enjoined. “The other’s stuck with the couch.”

It was Mark who answered. “Have at it, Elliot; I’m down with the couch.”

Brianne remained in the bathroom until the guys were asleep. Killing time, she wiped the steam off the mirror, appraising her nudity. What if I pretended I don’t know they were home and wandered out to the kitchen like this? Although exciting to contemplate, it would be obviously intentional. She had a legitimate need to reach her bedroom, however, which entailed walking about twenty feet in the direction of the living room—toward Mark—while naked as a jaybird.

Heart racing, she opened the bathroom door, leaving the lights on. That made sense. Not knowing the lay of the house, Billy’s friends would need them on in case Mother Nature called. Taking a deep breath, she stepped into the hallway and silhouetted by the bathroom back light, ever so slowly made her way to her room. Is he watching?

Her stroll took a seeming eternity. Her chest was heaving and her hands trembling by the time she stepped inside her room. She was about to close the door behind her when she suffered a change of heart. No, he’ll have to walk past my room to get to the bathroom. If I leave it open.

She walked to her bed, turned on the nightlight, and lay down, pulling the sheet up to her chin. Envisioning Mark glancing her way as he walked past her door, she tossed the sheet aside, baring her body. No, too blatant. She pulled it up to her waist, leaving her breasts on full display. Yes, this is more like it.

Leaving her nightlight on, she closed her eyes. With her heart beating a mile a minute, she knew sleep was out of the question. But he didn’t know that. She smiled, waiting.

The flushing toilet woke her. Her eyes popped open, amazed that she’d dozed off. Who’s in the bathroom? With both Billy’s room and the guest room on the far side of the bedroom, the only one likely to walk past her doorway was Mark, meaning it was OK to leave herself exposed. She lay still, listening, trying to discern which guy was prowling.

She heard the slap of bare feet on tile. They grew louder. It’s Mark! The footsteps slowed as they approached her doorway and stopped altogether. Brianne struggled to fight her panting. After all, a sleeping person’s chest wouldn’t heave like hers was doing. With great effort, she slowed her breathing.

She heard two more loud footsteps before they suddenly softened. Mark had entered her carpeted room. She froze, doing her best to appear asleep. The footfalls came nearer—he was coming for a closer look. She feared her heart would burst through her chest.

He halted beside her bed. It took all her willpower not to peek—not to savor the look in his eyes as they roamed her naked torso.

Heavy breathing filled the room. Was it her imagination, or were those sounds drawing ever closer?

It was all she could do to hold still as her sheet was pulled aside, exposing her pussy.

What is he thinking? Does he like what he sees? Does he have anything on, or is he naked too? She so wanted to chance a quick peek, but if she got caught, it would expose her little game, and that would be humiliating. Instead, she sighed aloud and bent a knee; putting more of her crotch on display. Can he tell how wet I am there? Does he see how swollen my nipples are? His staccato breathing grew louder. Is he masturbating? That possibility almost made her risk a glance. Almost, but not quite. Instead, she simply lay there, wondering if he’d be content to merely ogle her, or if he’d take things further. What would she do or not do if he did? Was resistance even an option in her present state?

She wasn’t put to the test. After what must have been five full minutes, he left her room, pausing in her doorway. She wasn’t sure if his departure made her glad or sad. If I were to touch myself now, would he come back to my bed? She so wanted to. Deciding to make this adventure even more memorable, she flopped her other knee open. Think of this when you’re back in your bed.

It was another full minute before he headed back to the living room.

His departure eliminated any reason not to touch herself—to achieve a modicum of relief. She stroked her clit—imagining—wishing; it was him doing it instead of her. It was she with the labored breathing now as she brought herself closer and closer to Nirvana. Can he hear me panting? Deciding she didn’t care, she stroked even faster, half hoping her racket would make him investigate the cause of the commotion. But he didn’t, despite her boisterous cacophony when her orgasm finally swept over her.

Lying naked in its aftermath, she felt a chill. With her longing satisfied, she pulled up her blankets, rolled to her side, and shut off the night lamp. If he was still awake, he couldn’t help but notice she’d turned out her light, meaning she had to have been awake. The idea of him knowing what she’d just done had been on purpose almost prompted her finger to return to her cootchie. Instead, she burrowed her face into her pillow, and smiling, began dreaming of what had just transpired.

An aching bladder woke her in the morning. She needed to pee. Twisting her feet to the floor, she sat up, eyeing her bathrobe hanging on the wall. Putting it on would be prudent, but with her hormones still running amok, she contemplated the alternative. Not only would she have to walk to the bathroom naked, but her return trip would be similarly garbed; two chances to be seen, not one. And the flushing of the toilet would likely awaken the men, upping the likelihood of them spotting her. The idea of being seen naked by three men at once was too much to resist, even if one was her brother. Besides, he’d ‘accidentally’ walked in on her in the bathroom countless times before; adding to his tally was no big deal. On the other hand, exposing herself to Mark and Elliot would be…

She headed for the bathroom.

Before this weekend, she would never have considered herself an exhibitionist, but her throbbing body parts left little doubt it was true. Pondering last night’s voyeuristic adventure brought a grin as she opened the bathroom door.

After taking care of business, she wiped her mons, amazed by how nice it felt to touch herself there. Finished, she accidentally (on purpose) let the toilet lid clang back in place. She paused before the mirror to play with her nipples and pussy lips, making them swell, assuring they’d be standing tall and obvious for her return trip.

She exited the bathroom and oh-so-slowly headed for her room, hoping the men—her brother included—were feasting on her charms. She looked into the living room. The couch had been moved a few feet to one side, the new position offering an unfettered view of the hallway. But the view went in two directions. She spotted Mark lying on his side, facing her way, presumably asleep. Was he, or was one of those eyes partially open?

She reached her room far too soon. Closing the door behind her, she went straight to her vanity and opened the drawer that held her vibrator. Best friend in hand, she returned to her bed. It wasn’t quite yet time to be up and around.

An hour later, the guys were gathered around the breakfast table gobbling down the pancakes and scrambled eggs she’d made them. Their casual conversation gave no hint that any of them had seen her little exhibition—save possibly for Mark. Gone was the lecherous leer he’d sported the day before, displaced by a far hungrier and more contemplative look. This one stirred her loins even more than the first one. She grinned inwardly. He wants me!

It might have been her imagination telling her what she wanted to hear, but it seemed to Brianne that the guys were far more amenable to her company today. She spent virtually the entire day with them. Better yet, when they went out on the town that evening, they invited her along.

She wore her skimpiest, sexiest outfit, something not lost on the guys. Although Billy was amused by her antics, the other two were completely taken in. Neither did they miss the opportunity to ogle her any time they suspected she was looking the other way. Although she wouldn’t have thought it possible, their constant eyeballing had her even hornier than she’d been the night before.

Four was a crowd, however, and the evening ended without opportunity for anything untoward. Once home, an evening of drinking had them racing to the heads to relieve themselves, her included, killing any excuse for another late-night stroll. It did not, however, preclude sleeping in the nude with her nightlight on.

An evening of drinking took its toll. No sooner had her head hit the pillow than she zonked. She woke around 4 a.m., once again sheetless. Had she fallen asleep that way, or was this the handiwork of an anonymous visitor? That latter possibility was enough to spur a middle-of-the-night rendezvous with her friend on her vanity.

Sunlight shining through her open window awakened her. It was Sunday. The guys would return to their fraternity today. Realizing her chances to tease them were running short, she decided to escalate her escapades. Not only would she walk nude to the bathroom, but she’d also take the time to shower before returning to her room. Her clatter would surely wake the guys. That meant her ‘surprise’ at having forgotten their presence while making a return to her room would require a bit of good acting. Confident she was up to the task; she headed for the bathroom wearing the outfit she was born in.

Since a naked body wasn’t all that would attract a man, she took time to fix her hair and apply makeup beforehand. She’d just have to be careful while she showered lest she undo her primping efforts.

As soothing as the warm shower felt, its prickly splattering on her nipples nonetheless stoked what were already raging fires. So much so, it was impossible not to attend it. Eyes closed, she rubbed them with soap. Only when they were slippery to the touch did she switch to using fingers capable of pinches and caresses, stuff soap couldn’t do. Playing with herself felt so good, she wondered if it might be possible to get herself off this way.

“Need some help?”

Her eyes popped open as she let out a screech. Staring through what was now an open shower curtain was Mark, sporting the same grin he’d given her the day he’d arrived. She twisted sideways, covering her breasts with her hands in a vain attempt to hide her nudity.

Strangely, this invasion of privacy didn’t offend her. Instead of outrage, being naked in front of him again was stealing her breath, more so than when she’d pretended to sleep; but she dared not let him know that. “Get out of here! Can’t you see I’m showering?”

He looked her up and down. “Oh, I see plenty.”

She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. “Billy would kill you if he knew you were here. Elliot might even join in.”

Mark grinned. “Elliot? That Jesus Freak? I seriously doubt it.” He shook his head. “Especially considering he asked Billy to take him to church services this morning. They left 45-minutes ago.”

God! I’m home alone with this man, stark naked with all hint of pretense gone.
His eyes roamed her body, working from head down to toe and back again, taking a slow journey. Done, he started unbuttoning his shirt. “I, however, have more licentious tastes.” His shirt fell to the floor.

She stood watching, too stunned to react. Or was her inaction because she feared to do anything that might stop him from completing his task—prevent him from getting as naked as she was? But if she didn’t do something—didn’t make some sort of protest—she’d lose all chance of owning the high moral ground. Whatever transpired next would be as much her doing as his.

She faced him, her arms falling to her sides, her eyes raking his body. His pecs were firm, and his abs rippled across his tummy. Her gaze settled briefly on the fingers undoing his belt buckle before flitting up to meet his, which screamed of the ‘licentious tastes’ he’d just alluded to.

Brianne’s eyes drifted back to his crotch, and standing frozen, she watched him slide down his zipper. He knows I’m letting this happen, fully aware of what will probably follow.

His pants fell to the tile. “What time does church let out?” he asked, slipping his thumbs under the elastic band of his briefs.

“Around noon,” she answered, her eyes riveted on what he was doing. He lowered his shorts, but they hung up on one very swollen cock jutting from those darkened pubes. He paused, postponing the unveiling she so anxiously awaited. She looked up, making no attempt to hide her yearning. He grinned. “Sorry, they got stuck.”

Another tug and they were down around his ankles.

Her gaze flew to his crotch, glorying in what he’d presented her. Although her sexual experience wasn’t vast, she'd seen enough erections to know his was larger than most. Would it feel any different if—when—he put it inside of her, or would it feel like every other cock she’d experienced? Listen to yourself, Brianne. You’re acting as if letting him fuck you is a foregone conclusion. Show some resistance girl, this isn’t who you are.

She met his gaze, hers firm. “Just what gives you the right to barge into my bathroom and take such liberties?

“The tit-for-tat rule.” His eyes fell on her breasts. “I should note that I have a strong preference for tit over tat.”

Her mouth fell open. “Tit-for-tat, how so?”

“I think you know that answer, but if you prefer, I can spell it out for you.”

She felt her face and neck flush. Does he know I was awake in bed or is he simply referring to my naked trips down the hallway? “I…” She was to tongue-tied to finish the sentence.

“I thought not,” he said, stepping into the shower, jerking the curtain shut behind him. “Should I start with your back?”

Not waiting for her answer, he picked up the soap and rubbed it over her back. She let him proceed without protesting.

The shower had a removable head on a cord. Taking it out of its sleeve, he sprayed her back, then shut off the water and put it away. “Now for the front.” Kissing her neck, he reached around to fondle her breasts, touching her in much the same way he’d done in her fantasy. Impossibly, her nipples grew even tauter. Her crotch reacted much the same, feeling many times its former size. Her eyes fluttered shut.

“That-a-girl, enjoy the ride.”

Time became unfathomable as his hands painstakingly explored her body. She gasped aloud when a hand found her crotch. Her ass ground against his erection as his fingers gently ‘cleansed’ her most sensitive spots. All thoughts save those of personal pleasure vacated her as she surrendered her body to this strange and alluring man she’d known for little more than a day. In contrast, her body reacted as if the opposite were true, responding to his attention as if he were her oldest friend.

“Now you do me.” His demand shattered her reverie. “Start with the front.”

“OK,” she whispered, turning around and taking the soap.

She started with his neck, before ever so slowly allowing her fingers to share flesh that heretofore had been the private domain of her eyes. His pecs felt as hard as they looked. The same was true of his abs. Working downward, she skirted past his throbbing manhood, choosing to do his legs instead.

“I believe you missed something,” he said, once she finished at his feet.

She looked past his throbbing penis at his now familiar smirk; a smug leer that shouted, don’t even pretend, we both know you’ll do whatever I ask. That it was true, made it all the more humiliating.

Biting her lip, she studied his swollen member. Nothing screamed of masculine sexuality more than a hard, throbbing cock hell-bent on fucking something. She inhaled, taking a deep, deep breath. Why am I doing this? I don’t even know the man? But she had hardly completed the thought before her fingers enfolded him; exploring; caressing his firmness. Her hand rose and fell, gently stroking the focal point of her every thought of the past 36 hours. It would be a simple matter to taste it. All it required was for her to rise a few inches and it could tickle her tonsils. But that wasn’t where she really wanted it. What would it feel like once it was inside her? Would she find out shortly, or did this man under whose spell she’d fallen have other plans for her? If so, would she resist or obey them?

“I use soap when I clean that thing, but I’m open to new ideas.”

His smart alec remark broke her trance. She looked up at him, grinning for the first time since he’d appeared in her bathroom, feeling herself again. “Sorry, I was distracted.”

She smothered his cock in soap suds, and then tenderly bathed his balls, marveling at these begetters of humanity that were uniquely male. “Is it sufficiently clean, or do you require further cleansing?”

“That’s perfect. Now rinse it off,” he said, grabbing the nozzle and turning on the water. He did her first, then she reciprocated. “Let’s dry off,” he said, shutting off the water and climbing out of the tub. She took his offered hand and followed him out.

The drying process began. She reveled in the touch of his hands as he dabbed away every bit of her moisture. She followed suit, toweling his every inch, winding up once again on her knees, her face inches from his cock. She gave him a smoky look. “I missed a spot,” she said, dragging her tongue the length of his cock. “There, all clean.”

His day-two expression replaced his day-one look—making him appear more hungry-carnivore than man-on-the-make.

Grabbing her wrist, he jerked her upright. Before she knew what was happening, he swept her into his arms and was carrying her down the hall. He stopped outside her room long enough to kick open the door. Seconds later she was sprawled on her bed, arms and legs fanned to the sides, staring up at her carnivore.

Say something now, Brianne, or you know what will happen. Her eyes flitted down his body, to his throbbing, swollen, lust-filled cock. She said nothing as he kneeled between her thighs. He’s about to fuck me, and I haven’t offered even token resistance. He bent forward, resting on his elbows, looking her in the eyes. “God, you’re gorgeous, way hotter than any chick I’ve known.”

His lips close over hers. She moaned in his mouth. Moments later, he slid down her body, and those same lips captured a nipple. She arched her breasts, savoring his oral assault. He thinks I’m hot! While his mouth bounced back and forth between impossibly protruding nipples, a hand sought and found her labia. After rubbing her clit, a finger parted them and pushed inside of her. She gasped as this mini-penis penetrated her most sacred orifice—one that was intently gripping and squeezing its newfound visitor, encouraging him toward further indiscretions, egging him on, seducing him, begging for ultimate satisfaction.

As if on cue, his finger withdrew, replaced by the bulbous head of his cock. This is it, your last chance to voice a protest before he’s inside your vagina. She made no such protest.

Grunting, her pelvis arched to greet him as he entered her pussy, her feminine parts desperate for the feel of his flesh, hungering to mesh with it, to become one with it. The sounds she uttered as he sank into her depths fell somewhere between a gasp and a cry as he stuffed her full of cock, fulfilling her pussy’s earlier plea. Her muscles spasmed, massaging the invading penis. She pressed her nipples into his hardened chest. “That’s it, Mark, fuck me. Make Billy’s little sister cum all over your cock!”

Based on how Brianne thrashed beneath her newfound lover, her heels locking him to her, a casual observer might find it difficult to discern who was fucking whom. In and out he plunged, each thrust bringing more pleasurable than its predecessor. She was oblivious to anything beyond the bliss of their rut. This is what she’d hungered for from his first leer to this very moment. This man, to whom she’d displayed her wares time and time again, was doing his best to answer her recently voiced appeal to fuck her senseless.

She came quickly and often, making obscene demands of him every time she did it, shouting explicit instructions how he should proceed—as to how best to fuck her.

Holding one demand in abeyance until she felt his manhood flex and expand. She repeated it now. “Yes, cum inside me! Fill me up. Make this the fuck of my life!”

Impossibly, his cock grew larger just seconds before erupting in a paroxysm of masculine lust, spraying her with his seed. Her orgasm stormed over her, her trembling body bucking to and fro as she cried out her ecstasy.

He was wise and kind enough to continue to pump her well after he was done, as he slowly brought her back to Earth. After a few more paroxysms of her own, she stilled and opened her eyes.

He laughed. “That was incredible. You are one outstanding fuck, young lady, no offense intended.”

She grinned back at him. “None taken, stud. You ain’t half bad yourself.”

Giggling, they cuddled, and before long, succumbed to the exhaustion of their efforts. Their nap was short, however, waking well before ten o’clock. His eyes followed hers to the clock. “The morning is young. How about using that pretty mouth of yours to get me hard enough for a second round?”

She reached between his legs, fondling his limp cock. “I can manage that,” she said, sliding down his torso. “But I want more rounds than just two rounds.”

She worked him into her mouth, purring as his body responded to her oral artistry. Few things were more erotic than having a man harden inside your mouth, unable to resist your sensual assault. Her mouth was full in no time, but she kept at her task well beyond the requisite need.

She lifted her head away once she had him truly throbbing. “How about I remain right where I am, and you scoot down behind me?” She looked up at him. “Assuming of course you don’t object to doing it doggie style.” He answered with actions, not words.

With two hours of privacy remaining, she pondered what other positions they might try, but those future possibilities vanished from her mind the instant he penetrated her. Nothing mattered now but the fuck—another marvelous coupling with this man she hardly knew. Deciding she knew him well enough, she gave herself over to their joining.