049: Sara
**Chapter 49**
I let my hands travel slowly over her body, mapping the soft rise of her hips, the gentle dip of her waist, the warm, yielding weight of her breasts. Every place I touched drew a small, involuntary reaction from her—a soft squirm, a catch in her breath, a quiet moan that slipped past her lips before she could stop it. In answer, she tightened her fingers around my cock and began stroking faster, her palm warm and slightly damp, the rhythm unsteady with her own growing need. The dual sensation of her body under my hands and her hand working me pushed me toward the edge far sooner than I wanted. I had to reach down and gently still her wrist before I finished too early.
“Do you feel that good?” she asked, her voice already a little breathless.
“You have no idea,” I answered, and meant it completely.
I shifted us carefully, guiding her onto her back against the sheets so I could look at her properly. The moment she was beneath me, she crossed one arm over her chest, a shy reflex that only made the sight more intimate.
“Don’t stare so much.”
“You can’t seriously expect me not to,” I murmured, and leaned down to kiss her. While our mouths moved together, tasting one another slowly, I eased her arm aside and cupped her left breast fully in my hand. She was so aroused I could feel the quick, strong beat of her heart through the soft flesh, each pulse matching my own.
I pulled back just enough to look at her again, taking in the flushed skin, the slightly parted lips, the way her nipples had already hardened into small, dark peaks.
“You’ve grown a lot since we used to take baths together when we were kids.”
A quiet, embarrassed laugh escaped her. “You’re one to talk. Mister Pepe definitely turned into Mister Monster.”
Mister Pepe had been the childish name she gave me when we were eight or nine and still occasionally ended up in the same bathtub on summer nights. Whatever change had happened when I turned thirteen had left that small, harmless version far behind, and nothing about it had changed since.
I lowered my head and took one nipple into my mouth, circling it slowly with my tongue before closing my lips around it and sucking gently. The moment the wet heat of my mouth touched her, she let out a longer, fuller moan. I was fairly certain the room had decent soundproofing—Sasha had been far louder in here on other nights without anyone coming to investigate—but the risk still made me lift my head.
“Do you want to wake up the entire house?” I asked against her skin.
She shook her head quickly and gave a soft, breathless giggle that somehow made her even harder to resist. That small sound alone stripped away the last of my restraint. I kissed a slow path down the center of her stomach, lingering on the sensitive skin just below her navel, until I reached the smooth, warm insides of her thighs. There I stopped again.
“Are you sure?” I asked once more, looking up at her face.
The conversation in the hallway still sat quietly in the back of my mind. I needed to know there would be no regret waiting for us afterward.
She smiled, the softest, most certain smile I had ever seen on her, and said, “Tyler, if you don’t start making me feel good in the next ten seconds, I’m never speaking to you again.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I spread her thighs with careful hands and finally looked at her properly. Her pussy was completely bare, the soft outer lips neat and delicate, almost untouched in appearance. Even her clit remained mostly hidden beneath its hood, the same way Sasha’s had been at first. A brief, dangerous thought flickered through my mind, and I pushed it away before it could take root. Then I leaned in and gave her one long, slow lick from the lowest point of her entrance all the way up to the top of her slit.
“Mmmm~~~”
The sound she made was low and involuntary. Her whole body trembled beneath my mouth. I licked her again, firmer this time, spreading her open with my tongue, and her thighs tensed on either side of my head. The more thoroughly I worked over her, the more her moans broke apart into short, helpless sounds that she tried, and failed, to keep quiet.
“Mmm~~ Oh my god~~ Nnngh~~”
She rested one hand lightly on the back of my head but never pushed or directed me. I took my time, learning the exact places that made her breath hitch, until I decided she was ready. With two fingers, I gently drew open the lips and exposed the small, swollen nub of her clit. It looked like it was already pulsing in anticipation. I gave it the lightest possible stroke of my tongue.
That single, barely-there contact made her arch hard off the bed.
“Oh my god~~! Yes~~!”
I stayed right there, alternating soft flicks with longer, flatter strokes while I brought my middle finger to her entrance and traced the slick outer edges in slow circles. When I finally eased the finger inside, she was almost unbearably hot and tight, the soft walls already fluttering around the intrusion. Her hips began to move on their own, small, desperate circles against my mouth and hand, chasing more of the feeling.
“Oh yes—keep going—keep going, Tyler—you’re gonna… Mmmm—you’re gonna make me cum—”
She didn’t finish the sentence. Her body locked up suddenly, thighs shaking so hard I had to hold them open with my free hand, and then she came with a strong, unexpected rush of fluid. I sealed my mouth over her at once, determined not to waste any of it. The added suction only intensified everything for her; her voice climbed higher and broke.
“HOLY FUCK—HOLY FU—AAHHH!!!!”
I kept drinking, swallowing every pulse she gave me while the system notifications flickered uselessly at the edge of my vision. None of them mattered. The only things that existed were the sweet and salty taste of her, the way her body kept trembling through the aftershocks, and the soft, broken sounds she made each time my tongue moved against her oversensitive flesh.
When the strongest waves finally began to fade, I gave her a few last, deliberate licks—just enough to feel her twitch and hear the tiny, overstimulated whimpers that followed. She lay completely open on the sheets, chest rising and falling hard, eyes half-lidded and unfocused, looking thoroughly wrecked in the most beautiful way.
“Oh my god,” she managed after a long moment, voice rough. “That was… amazing.”
Then a sudden return of energy seemed to move through her. She sat up, pushed me gently but firmly onto my back, and climbed over me with clear intent in her eyes.
“Your turn.”
She sat back on her heels and simply stared down at my cock for several long seconds, almost as if she were seeing it properly for the first time.
“Damn,” she muttered under her breath. “I already had it in my mouth, and my hand, and it still looks unreal.”
Hearing that quiet, honest reaction from her sent a clean rush of pride through me that had nothing to do with size and everything to do with who was looking.
Moonlight from the window behind my shoulders washed over her bare skin, turning every soft curve silver. Even without it, I would have been able to see her clearly; the awakening had taken care of that. She leaned down slowly until I could feel the warm, damp heat of her breath against the head of my cock. The proximity alone made it jump and flex.
She laughed quietly, the sound soft and a little nervous. “Someone can’t wait.”
“The wait’s killing me,” I admitted, voice rough.
“Then let’s not make you wait any longer.”
She dragged the flat of her tongue from the very base of my cock all the way to the tip in one long, wet, deliberate line. When she reached the head, she gave the sensitive top a careful, curious lick without any visible disgust. The contact was enough to make me leak a clear bead of pre-cum. I started to reach toward the inventory for tissues, not wanting to pressure her, but after a short, visible hesitation, she leaned back in and licked that away too.
The surprised look that crossed her face afterward was almost as good as the sensation itself.
“Weird,” she murmured, tasting her lower lip.
“What is?”
“I always read that it’s supposed to taste bitter or kind of fishy. Yours is… actually a little sweet.”
Before I could form an answer, she went back to work, licking and kissing along the shaft with growing confidence. She was nowhere near as practiced as Sasha—Sasha had spent days learning exactly how much pressure I liked, exactly where to linger—but the fact that it was Sara made technique almost irrelevant. Every slightly uncertain stroke of her tongue, every soft, wet sound she made, felt better than anything more skilled could have. Pleasure gathered low and heavy at the base of my spine, building faster than I could slow it down.
I was already getting dangerously close again when a firm, unmistakable knock landed on the bedroom door.
Both of us froze completely.
Aunt Elise’s voice came through the wood, clear and concerned and far too close.
“Honey? Is everything all right? I thought I heard someone scream.”
Of course she had.