Anonymous Lover Ch. 01

This story sets the scene for others I have written by introducing the main characters: David and Elizabeth Wilson and David's girlfriend, Susan. The three Chapters of this story contain explicit sex between brother and sister, so if you are offended by the idea of consensual incest then please don't continue....this story is not for you. All of the characters are entirely fictitious, and therefore bear no intended resemblance to any person living or dead. All are over the age of 18.

The story is written from David's perspective.

*****

It all started with a Halloween Party at Damien's house, when he decided to invite a number of friends over during his parent's absence. Damien is a friend of mine, usually pretty vague, but I must say that it was well planned. Neat little invitations went out several weeks beforehand, with a stipulation you were to wear a mask that hid your identity and to bring sufficient alcohol for at least two people. Costume parties do not normally interest me, but I decided to go anyway. I invested in a black and orange tiger mask that struck me as fierce and imposing at the same time, and was certainly sufficient to hide all of my features. Nobody could tell it was me, hiding underneath it.

I don't recall much of the early part of the evening, other than my initial surprise to find that there were only a dozen or so people there, and more girls than guys. The music was loud and the rooms dark, and the punch was laced with something strong to make it work quickly. The night swiftly degenerated into a small sea of sweating and inter-twined bodies, initially preoccupied with writhing on the dance floor to the throb of music, and later on writhing in a more primeval occupation.

I remember dancing with several girls, including two or three together at one stage, but as the night progressed I paired off with one who seemed intent on me. She was a little shorter than me and wore a blue mask designed like an eagle, the fierce expression complimented by the glitter of her eyes. It made it difficult to tell her age, yet alone who she was, but she had a trim body that certainly felt good and she knew how to move it. All I could see of her face was the sparkle of her eyes in the dim light and a soft sensuous pair of lips, with the occasional flash of small white teeth behind them. A wisp of auburn hair announced that she was a brunette, and the way she moved suggested she was ready for action.

We didn't talk much. The music was too loud and it wasn't that sort of party, anyway. The air gap between us diminished quickly and soon we were body to body, rubbing against each other, hands roaming where we liked. I could smell her, a mixture of perfume tinged with warm flesh, hot and sensual. The music seemed to recede into the background and other people in the room to retreat, so there was just her and me, moving against each other. She pushed her breasts and pelvis forward, unashamedly sexual. I responded, kissing her neck and cheek, tasting the delicious warmth of her mouth, pushing against her so we were almost fucking on the dance floor. Her lips were soft but I sensed she was a tentative kisser, waiting to learn.

I leaned close to her ear. "Are you ready?"

She stiffened for a moment in my arms, then nodded. I took her hand and led her through the hallway, up the stairs to the bedrooms. The first door was closed and I could hear activity behind it. The second bedroom was empty and I kicked the door shut behind us, propping a chair against the handle to prevent disturbance.

The light was off, but a street lamp threw a band of light into the room. She stood back from the door, quite still, looking at me. I moved quickly to her, one hand holding her head as I kissed her and the other moving down over her breasts, feeling their shape and texture through the thin material of her dress. She pushed her pelvis forwards and I felt the hardness of her mound grinding against my rigid cock.

I reached behind her head to remove the mask but she reacted violently, pulling back.

"No!" Her voice was husky and urgent.

"I need to see you!"

"No!" Just a single word, nothing more to say. She stepped back, hands fumbling at the zipper on her little black dress, opening it, stepping out. A whisper of dark material fell to the shadows on the floor. She kicked off her shoes and I realised she was much shorter than me, but her body was firm and beautifully proportioned. Her skin shone in the soft light like molten pewter, and I gazed at her breasts, not large but well defined, the nipples pushing against the lacy fabric of her bra. Her belly was flat, smooth flesh gliding downwards to a pair of small black panties that hugged a well-defined mound.

For a moment we stared at each other, and then she moved forward, reaching up to kiss. I fumbled with my buttons, shirt finally falling free, belt coming loose. I kicked off my jeans, hopping awkwardly from one foot to the other, still kissing. Her hands were on my shoulders, her face locked to mine. We fell onto the bed with me partly on top and I slid aside one cup of her bra and suckled her, feeling the nipple swell in my mouth and her hands holding my hair to guide me. My cock was bursting, straining against my jocks and pushing against her thigh.

She pushed me back and sat up, deftly removing the bra and tossing it to the floor. She leaned forward and lifted the elastic of my jocks so that my cock jumped out, freed from its constraint. For a moment she was still, looking down at it, and I could sense her uncertainty. Then she bent forward and took my shaft in her hand, squeezing it, looking intently at the long strand of pre-cum that was stringing from the bell end to my belly, glistening in the pale light like a spider's web. She crouched forward and her pink tongue tentatively licked at it, breaking the strand so that it clung to her lip for a moment before she sucked it in, pausing to savor the taste like a new experience. My cock strained upwards at her touch, and she engaged the tip of it against her lips and let it slide into her mouth.

At first she was uncertain, not understanding the sensitivities. She moved in jerks instead of long smooth strokes, and her pressure and cadence were all wrong. I guided her, my voice soft in the semi-darkness, teaching and mentoring. She was silent, listening, a quick learner and willing. My cock ached as it fucked her mouth, the head swollen bigger than ever before as it stretched her young lips. I could feel the ridges at the back of her throat as it glided deep into her, and then the softer part of her mouth as she drew back, letting her lips grip the head, nuzzling and lubricating. I could feel the feather light rasp of her tongue on the sensitive underside, and the firmer clasp of her lips as she tightened them over the head before allowing my length to slide into her throat again.

As she crouched over me, I moved my hand to cup one buttock, my fingers dipping forward into the dark shadow. I could sense the incredible heat of her and feel the slick wetness of her panties on my fingertips. I imagined the thin material stretched over her pussy, stained dark and wet with her discharge. I envisaged her juices oozing from her warm wet passage, thick and tart, trickling out through her labia, now swollen and fleshy with wanting. In the silence of the room I could hear her small grunts and whimpers of pleasure as my fingers rubbed against the sodden fabric of her pants and I could hear the occasional slurp of her mouth on me. I could smell her arousal: the warm scent of her cunt and the musk of a female in heat.

I pulled her hips around and she lifted one thigh over me, straddling my face, pushing her torso back and down so that her crotch was positioned over my face. As her mouth slid down my cock I pressed my tongue upwards, pushing aside the thin gusset so that I tasted her for the first time. The light was not strong enough for me to see her sex, but I could feel the downy softness of pubic hair against my face and the firm plasticity of her thighs against my cheeks. I pressed my face upwards and in a moment her juices soaked my face, running in rivers across my tongue.

My cock withdrew from her mouth with a soft plop, and rested on my belly. She pushed herself upright, thrusting her hips downwards so her cunt was rammed against my face. I lapped hungrily, hearing her soft moans and sighs, feeling the crisp softness of her pubic hair against my lips. My tongue was buried inside her, drilling upwards, her labia opening to allow me to penetrate her as deeply as I could, and she writhed and wriggled against me.

Her first orgasm came in a rush. I felt her thighs tense, gripping my face, and her back arched. She had one hand at the back of her head and the other was pressed against her mouth to stifle the squeal of pleasure that seemed to go on and on. I could feel her vagina sucking with hard rhythmic contractions against my face, pulling my tongue, and a flood of cum juice spurted into my mouth as if I had bitten down on a luscious piece of fresh fruit. For long moments she trembled in ecstasy, a thin high wail of pleasure breaking from her lips and her body writhing against my mouth, and then, gradually, she grew still and I could hear her ragged breath in the stillness of the room. I fancied I could feel the wild beating of her heart though the lustrous skin of her thighs clamped either side of my face.

After a moment she lifted herself clear and the bed creaked as she lay next to me. We were both silent for a moment, and then she spoke, her voice still tremulous with the intensity of her orgasm.

"Now, your turn. Fuck me. Fuck me all night."

"I will, I will." I whispered.

I climbed over her and she opened her legs, drawing her knees upward to allow me unfettered access to her sex. I positioned the head of my cock at the opening to her body, and then with infinite slowness I pressed forward. The sensations of that first penetration filled my brain: smoothness and pressure and incredible heat. I envisaged the lips of her cunt twitching at the first touch of the velvet head, then parting as the first inch or so entered her body. I imagined the exchange of our fluids, her juices bubbling around my cock head, and my pre-cum smearing over her vulva as I penetrated her. I heard her sigh and felt the bedsprings move as she shifted slightly to accommodate me.

I felt sudden pressure as the widest part of my cock-head demanded entry, then incredible tightness that stopped further progress, and I felt her go rigid under me. I stopped. She was panting a little, her hands fluttering at my back, her thighs drawn back and open as wide as she could. After a moment she lifted her legs over my back and I felt them lock together, and then she suddenly rolled her hips upwards, thrusting her pelvis sharply so that I broke through. I sank full length into the delicious heat of her tight body, and as my shaft impaled her, she cried out.

"Oh! Oh! Stop for a moment!"

I held my hips still, savouring the cloying grasp of the young pussy in which I was embedded. Not one millimeter of my cock was outside - it was all in.

For long moments we were both still, aside from the twitching of my cock inside her. I longed to withdraw and plunge, withdraw and plunge, to fuck this hot body beneath me, but somehow I held still. Presently she moved her hips, tentatively at first then with growing confidence as she adjusted to my length and width. I responded, drawing my cock out so that just the head was engaged, then pushing - a long delicious stroke into her, feeling her pelvis thrust back to accept me, so that I was completely buried, the root of my cock mashed against her mound.

I don't know how long I fucked her...perhaps twenty or thirty minutes. I wanted more than anything to stay inside her all night, but my senses were swamped by her gasps, her low squeals of pleasure, the intensity of how she held me, and the incredible tightness of her cunt with its velvet walls and clutching, rhythmic movements.

However much I wanted to continue, I knew I was lost. Deep inside me I felt my own pressure building, an unstoppable juggernaut that swirled upwards and outwards through my whole being like an explosion of colored light. In a single, white-hot moment where time stood still I released the first scalding jet of sperm into the young body wriggling beneath me. We cried out together as six or seven other jets followed, ribbons of sperm, rivers of it, filling the clutching cunt, splattering its walls with its heat, bathing her cervix and bursting outwards from where we joined, so that it was immediately churned to a white froth by the intensity of our movement.

After a long time she released the grip of her legs and I felt the grip of her cunt relax as I softened inside her. I slid off her and we lay side by side, breathing ragged gasps, sweat cooling on our skin. My heart was beating like a drum.

"God" She whispered. "God damn, that was...."

"...incredible." I finished the sentence.

She turned her face towards me, voice so soft that I could hardly hear the words. "I didn't know....I never knew it could be like that."

I reached over and touched her lips lightly with my fingertips, and I smoothed the wild tangle of her hair on the pillow. She lay still, watching me, her eyes shining behind the mask.

"What's your name?' I asked her.

She shook her head lightly, her voice soft. "No. We can't do this again. No names, no faces." Her voice was filled with regret.

I didn't ask why. I knew nothing of this girl, who she was, her hopes and dreams or where or how she lived. In a moment of clarity I understood that part of the magic of the night had been not knowing - meeting another kindred soul who wanted only to share a night of passion but nothing more. Every detail I found out about her, I thought, would add a layer of complexity to the relationship, to seek to complicate what was very simple. I understood that she didn't want that, and I thought I was content not to want it either.

I stroked her hair and by and by, we fell asleep.

I thought I heard her crying during the night, and I felt the touch of her hand on my face, but then I sank back into sleep and, when I woke, she had left. She had covered me with a bedspread and every trace of her was gone, except for the fragrance of her hair on the pillow. The morning light had taken away the anonymity of the night, and I felt alone. I wondered how I could have let her go without finding out her name, or looking at her face.

*****

The following Monday morning I sat at breakfast, munching cereal and flicking though a magazine I had found on the table. I had to leave for work in a few moments.

My mother shouted from the kitchen, "David, bring the dishes in before you go, please."

"Yes Mum."

"...and is your room tidy?"

I rolled my eyes at my little sister sitting opposite me, blond hair in disarray and still sleepy. She'd been away at the weekend and looked as if she had had a good time, too.

"Yes Mum."

"Is Beth there?"

"Yes Mum!"

My mother appeared with another bowl and a plate of toast. "Here you go, Beth."

I looked at her. Dad had died a few years before of a heart attack at the age of forty two, leaving her with a meager living so she had to work. I wondered why she didn't find another guy. She was still attractive and kept herself trim.

"Have to go, Mum," I said. She smiled and gave me a brief hug and a peck on the cheek.

"What time are you home tonight?"

"Usual. I'll give you a ring if it changes. See ya, Beth!"

Beth grunted. She had pinched my magazine and was reading the agony column. I wondered why she didn't have a stream of boyfriends bashing at the front door as she was very attractive, even first thing in the morning. Like me, she was a bit of a loner, although I had just started dating a girl called Susan a week before. It was too early to tell if it would develop into anything, though. I was suddenly struck with a picture of my mysterious friend over the weekend, head thrown back, knuckles pressed to her mouth to suppress a scream of ecstasy. I couldn't envisage Susan in that position.

I closed the door behind me and went to work.

And so life went on for the next few days, much as it had before that weekend. The only difference was that I thought about HER a lot. The little mannerisms I noticed in our brief acquaintance: the way she held her head on one side, as if asking a question; her sense of stillness; the way she pressed her hand to her mouth to silence her pleasure. That was all I knew of her, other than she had brown hair, wore a little black dress and plain shoes, owned a blue eagle mask and gave me the most stunning sex I had ever had. Each time I thought of her, the sense of loss grew greater. How can you feel you've lost something that you really never had? How can you fall in love with a dream?

On the Thursday after the weekend I phoned the host of the party to thank him.

"Damien....its David."

"Hi David. What gives?" He was always cheerful.

"Not much, mate. Just calling to thank you for the amazing party."

"Amazing is right" he grumbled. "Looked like a fucking brothel next day....knickers and condoms all over the house, beds wrecked. Looks like someone deflowered a chick in the main bedroom....still trying to wash the sheets clean before the oldies come home." He chuckled. "Was a great party though, wasn't it!"

I thought of HER, thrusting her pelvis forward and crying out. Had I used the main bedroom?

"Er, yes" I said. How lame. "Well, anyway, thanks a lot..."

"You're welcome."

"...and I wondered if you could do me a favor."

"Maybe." A note of caution in his voice.

I pressed on bravely. "I met a chick there I really liked." I said. "Could you give me a list of who you invited?"

There was a moment of silence, and then I listened to his reasons for not helping me. Confidentiality...the right to privacy. He asked me what she was wearing, what she looked like.

"The blue eagle mask. Brunette, shortish. Black dress."

I could hear his mind working. "Nah. Don't know her.", he said. "Might have been a gate crasher. We had a couple. Sorry mate. Perhaps next time."

The dialing tone was loud in my ear as the only way I could think to find her rang out.

*****

Friday evening, almost a week since the night. Beth and Mum were out somewhere, and I arrived home alone, thinking of her. I collected the mail at the front door, flicking through the usual collection of bills and junk mail. I had been hoping that somehow she had found out who I was, and there would be a little note asking if we could meet. There was little chance of that, I knew. The ache was there, bright and sharp in my gut. I longed to see her again, but part of me dreaded that if I did it would be a disappointment. She was a predator and she didn't need me.

I thought of the jobs that Mum had given me to do. She worked hard and we helped out, and it was my turn to do the laundry. I collected the basket and went into my room, picking up the week's collection of dirty clothes; then to Mum's room, where they were all neatly kept in a basket in the corner.

I moved down the corridor to Beth's room, scooting around, collecting socks, her work blouses, a couple of pairs of red knickers about the size of dental floss. Nothing else that I could see at first, but on impulse I bent to look under the bed and just behind the fold of the duvet I could see a bunched up scrap of black lace. It was a black bra and a pair of skimpy black knickers, and as I retrieved them I saw that they were concealing something else. Curious, I reached under the fold of material and pulled it out.

The room seemed to tilt, and I could hear a roaring in my ears.