Rain hammered the towering oaks of our family’s private forest estate. Mélanie and I dashed through it, skirts short and flaring, tiny blouses beneath denim jackets. Twins in style—one brunette, one blonde. Seeking refuge. The storm’s fury matched our simmering heat.
Through sheets of water, the forester’s cabin gleamed. Our exclusive retreat, used only in hunting season. Mélanie shoved the door. It yielded. Empty. Silent. No one disturbed this elite hideaway on a summer storm afternoon.
The Privilege
Drenched. Blouses plastered to skin. Her nipples thrust against wet cotton, dark peaks begging touch. Inside: vast kitchen-dining, stone hearth stacked with rare hardwoods. We sparked the fire. Flames roared, casting golden glows. Heat enveloped us like a private spa.
Blouses shed, hung to steam dry. Topless at the oak table, thighs brushing. Thunder crashed. Darkness swallowed the world. Lightning slashed. Mélanie shivered, pressed close. My hand claimed her thigh. Arm around her. Cheek kisses turned bold. I turned her face. Tongue breached her lips. Hers met mine, dueling fiercely. Voracious.
Hand crept upward. She spread wide. No panties. Her pussy yawned, slick invitation. Fingers parted moist lips. Clit emerged, pinched between digits. She reciprocated. Shoved my thong aside. Rubbed my swollen nub. We stroked slow. Breaths raced. Her finger pierced shallow, grazed my hymen. Thumb circled clit. Juices soaked her hand. Mine dripped too.
I sucked her nectar from my fingers—tart, addictive. Pleasure surged. Basin bucked. I mewled into her mouth, waves crashing long.
Fire blazed infernal. I pushed her to the plush fireside sofa. Sat. She stood, backlit by flames. Skirt hiked slow. Mouth latched navel, trailed down. Tongue split lips. Circled clit—silky, erect. Sucked hard. Hands gripped firm ass cheeks. Her scent: musky luxury. Clit like tiny cock head, glistening.
Fingers traced ass crack. Teased puckered star. She yielded. Saliva-slicked, I probed. She recoiled. Switched to pussy. Fucked deep. She rocked. Re-lubed, circled anus again. Slid in.
Awkward angles. Stopped. Stripped her skirt. Naked. Mine. Kneeled. Legs hoisted. Mouth devoured dripping slit. Lapped rigid clit. Sucked, nibbled. Tongue-fucked hole. Dropped to rim anus, fingers plunging cunt. She gripped my hair. Ground hard.
The Excess
Stood. Thumb-fucked. Added finger. Like a cock, I railed. Mouth on tit. Kissed to muffle screams. She convulsed. Vagina clenched fingers. Juices flooded.
Collapsed entwined. Then 69 on sofa. Tongues delved. Sucked clits. Mutual devouring. Climax fused us. Single writhing body.
Fire banked. Wiped sticky thighs, faces. Dressed. Storm fled. Hand in hand, sun broke. Miles later: private cascade in mossy glade. Estate’s hidden gem. Moss carpeted like Persian silk. Stripped. Lay.
She straddled my back. Skirt up. Caressed ass over thong. Nails raked. Tugged fabric. I arched. Thong yanked down.
Reversed. Massaged cheeks. Spread. Tongue-wet finger circled anus. I winked it open. Probed shallow. I palmed mound. Fingered self. Pleasure built. She thrust deep. I shattered. Bucked wild. Violent orgasm unseated her.
Her turn. Belly-down me watched. Crawled between thighs. Skirt off. Bush-framed pussy. Hands trailed knees up. Legs bent. Mouth sealed heat. Sucked clit. Lapped nectar. Fingers tweaked nipples. Plunged thumb. Pinched tit at peak. She spasmed. Cyprine gushed.
Kissed, shared her taste. Dressed. Embraced. Promised more. Sought bolder spots—maybe with a boy.
