The unexpected flings a stepsister and stepbrother together, tight arse, big hooters, titty-fuck,
Melanie Jones had the cutest girly landing strip you could possibly imagine. It was thin and trimmed, a sweet-groomed rectangle of dark fuzz.
If you want to be polite, it pointed up to her delicate turn-on indented navel, which was a stunner because of her sexy piercing: a silver ball, gem-encrusted, highlighting her sensuous, supple, sinuous innie. The bar was simple and elegant, a piece of high-end tummy fashion.
Like a spare clit, when stimulated. Erogenous metal. Red-light district alluring gems. The ball also pointed north to her luscious plentiful boobs.
But getting back to Mel's landing strip: it gave directions south to her pouty puffy pussy lips. Her private honey pot.
A thin pubic line beckoning to sex.
Melanie's skill with a razor or her esthetician waxer, who cares, was very talented where it counted with a lady. It was probably a waxer because the strip was bloody perfect and so smooth on the sides, and not one stray hair around her arsehole.
And rash and nick-free. Perfect pussy, and the saints be praised for her faultless smooth balloon knot presentation.
Mel had another feature that gave balloon associations.
She was one of those tall thin girls with fantastic natural boobs. We all know big girls have large boobs, and weight puts on boob mass. But Mel was stunningly slim with great hooters—the envy of many girls who could only achieve such a look with surgery.
Guys just frickin marvelled at the high points of tit evolution. Her boobs were mammary paradise. And dudes loved their natural spongy softness when they released this pair. They were fetching skin maracas at the apex of natural selection, and silicone girls would never cut it again for a mind and cock blowing titty fuck.
Brunette, long-haired Mel was currently up very high.
No, not perched over a cock but actually in the cockpit of a light aircraft heading to her family's outback family property.
Nick Morris was next to her at the controls of his Cessna 172S Skyhawk.
A beautiful structure in the air. The landscape below was dry tussocky grass, red rocky outcrops, sparse plains, and then eucalypt strewn along the odd near-empty billabongs.
Arse end of the world territory, the Australian outback.
Nick and Mel were only several minutes from a private airstrip.
Ms Jones was also thinking private.
Private time with her new man's cock. She wanted it again already, yet she had had her fill in the hangar before take-off.
The problem was that it was only her mouth that had been filled. Now that had made her guy happy, but Mel was feeling horny.
She needed a screw.
The problem was that she wasn't getting one in the air. Even if the small craft had an autopilot, there was no space in the cockpit, so she wasn't joining the mile-high club today.
Anyway, she didn't see Nick as a cock.
I suppose no guy wants to be thought of as just a life support unit for a pecker.
No, it was more fundamental than that: Nick was Melanie's stepbrother.
Her mum had remarried and changed her name. Mel was content with Jones. However, our brunette wasn't content right now between her randy thighs.
Mel began fantasising about what Joel, her current boyfriend, should have done to her in the hangar.
But she couldn't get beyond his great cock in her mouth. Maybe it had been her haste to suck him off before she left Brisbane that meant she'd have to wait till Tuesday for a decent shag and an even dirtier arse filling.
Oh, Screw long weekends home in the outback for your mother's wedding anniversary. Was it two years? No, it was three since the re-marriage.
Here she was, a randy twenty-one with only her trusty vibrator in her luggage to get her through a boring trip home.
She smirked. God, she had changed.
Mel remembered her fumbling, shy, mousy, virginal self at eighteen.
Yes, a Catholic private girl's boarding school had much to answer for. And despite the rumours of lesbian mayhem in such institutions, she hadn't even got a pash or a breast fondle from another chick.
It took going away to University and Dorms and Hazing to open her eyes, mouth, pussy and arse to both guys and dolls. But we are getting off the immediate story.
Ah hazing, ah hazing, she thought.
Besides flying his plane well, Nick was trying to keep his mind off his stepsister.
He had always been drawn to her stunning immense boobs whenever she was home from college and, more recently, Uni.
I mean, having a stepsister in your home when you are eighteen, and she was eighteen, was like having a twin, but one you couldn't be close to.
He knew her cock arousing titty wobble and perfect boob shape. Still, he accepted he'd never get any more than a good perv of her big tits when she was sunbathing around the family pool.
Oh hell, he had creamed his shorts once because her orange bikini top, well, exposed more than they covered.
And now they were both at Uni, and Mel had her Joel.
Still, Nick screwed anything with big tits. And he secretly knew why?
The flight was made in better than a good time with a tailwind, and the outback station's private runway came into view.
Only as Nick did his landing procedure routine did he see the flashing dashboard light. He went through his process again, not worrying Melanie yet.
Then he had to say it — but stayed calm: "Mel, the landing gear indicators are telling me the front wheel may not be fully locked down. It's going to be a rough landing. Brace yourself. I'll do my best."
Mel looked ahead. Her world seemed normal.
The day was clear. A couple of k's to the right, the station and homestead were visible. The landing strip was its usual dusty red earth: just waiting.
She looked at Nick; he was busy with the instruments and focused on doing his best emergency landing.
It was a surreal time slowing sequence.
"Brace position, Mel," said Nick.
She hunched. Trying to block out fear, even as her boobs scrunched into her lap.
Nick wasn't sure whether it was just the light that had failed or whether the front wheel was only partly down. They were about to find out.
The ground comes quicker in an emergency.
The small plane was immediately challenging to handle. The landing unfolded rough. The front wheel wasn't locked in place; it was there but not doing its proper job.
The Cessna veered left. It wanted to go left despite Nick wrestling with the controls.
It jolted.
Then, the plane did a series of kangaroo-style hops, jarring up and down at the front. The front tyre likely bent under the plane.
Finally, the plane ploughed through the dirt and then the tussocks. Red dust plumed.
It choked lungs and hellishly blocked any view.
The tyre was shredding by the sounds of it, and then the small plane came to an abrupt nose-down halt in the long scrub, well off to the side of the runway.
Like Mel, Nick winced, muscle-jerked, and immediately ached. He was shaken but not overly bruised or bloodied.
Fuck, the chassis of a plane is tough, thought Nick
They were down.
There was a collective trembly sigh from the pair.
Sore necks, probably whip lash would hit later.
Their bodies had been put through a nasty series of jerks and jolts. And the horrible sense in their stomach pits, the situation had been out of their control, and something worse could have happened.
Both minds had been trying to tune out their oblivion moment — if it was coming.
"Are you Okay, Mel," Nick managed when he was sure all the switches were off, the plane wasn't leaking fuel, and there was no smoke or flame.
Thank God.
However, they needed to get out fast to be safe.
"Yeah, yeah," said Mel, a bit dazed, looking ahead into the long yacca grass and scattered gum trees in the distance. And one much closer.
She had the thought: this could have been worse, and what was I thinking of before we landed, a decent shag with Joel.
Was that what life was all about: TS Elliot's birth, copulation and death?
She then just responded to Nick's instructions to get out carefully.
Mel was out her door and leaning against the plane.
She was a bit woozy, close to nausea. Her view of the world and life spun—and kept spinning.
Nick rushed around the propeller next to her. Very concerned. How close to disaster, probably metres?
A fireball if they hit the nearest gum tree!
Life is defined and lived by the margins. How close to something going really wrong?
But he focussed on Mel.
"Hey, let me look in your eyes and take a few deep breaths…we are okay…it's all okay."
After a few deep breaths, Mel realised she was okay.
Her neck would stiffen up and cane later.
But right now, she was okay.
She had that heightened sense of being alive in that lucky immediate instance. She felt her lungs fill. She felt Nick's warm hands on her face, his eyes looking into hers.
Fuck, a guy, any guy, any male, had never looked so fuckin appealing as now.
Mel knew the only way completely out of this nasty memory was a manic stress-relieving fuck. And she ignored the fact that Nick was her stepbrother.
Nick had been mentally prepared for when the plane hit the ground, though he couldn't fully control the outcome. Still, he had tried.
Nick, however, didn't see Mel coming for his body.
She hit his mouth with a cyclone of energy, and her fingers were inside his pants quicker than a greyhound chasing a lure.
The stepbrother didn't back off. Here was what he had dreamed of, the forbidden body of his adult life, and it was careening into his faster than an outback flooding billabong.
In a flurry of movement quicker than Nick had last checked the instrument panel in the hurried landing, his stepsister had his pants and boxers down in the long grass and was sucking off his pecker.
Nick had that opportunistic guy thought; he should have an emergency landing more often.
He shoved that out of his head as his cock was shoved deeper into Mel's sweet, accommodating mouth. Her moist pink lips were passionate about his cock.
He knew why.
They had survived.
He had to make the best of this strange shared moment, and then his cock took over. His knob was so happy as she sucked with gusto. A gratification for being alive and having cock at the moment.
Mel sucked cock in a way that focused on really appreciating the cock. Screw that it was Nick's cock; she would have given a blow-job to anyone who got out of the plane.
Nick's cock was saliva drenched. Mel's mouth became a slurry, a glop, a goo of warm sluicing juice, a perfect hard cock repository.
She slurped spit all over his balls. She kissed and basted her tongue along his stiff shaft. Then ran her tongue tip around and around his pleasured knob.
Spit, spit, glorious copious head job spit!
"Orrgh, orrgh, yes, yes," groaned Nick.
The stepbrother wanted everything now that it had started.
He didn't believe how easily and quickly the ravenous Mel got utterly naked with him, and he was taking in her big boobs, her cute navel jewellery and the biggest surprise of all; her trimmed landing strip leading down to her puffy pink pouty labia.
"Wow," he went, as he grabbed a handful of tit with one hand and felt her light, fuzzy, trimmed, immaculate landing strip with his other.
Her sparse pubes were slightly frizzy, like three days' growth on a guy's face, then the contrast with her moist girly opening.
His fingers enjoyed a shimmering, gossamer- tiffany slide through appealing quim soppy sogginess.
A silky wet cunt is divine. Full stop!
"Mmm, mmm, oh fuckin' yeah," from Mel appreciating frickin touch on her senses heightened body.
She was beyond randy and horny.
She was in body slut mode as she said, "Eat me, eat me out."
Well, Nick had been heading that way but took the quick route down over her nipples, licking them, stopping to delve into her navel, but only briefly.
God, that bar and stones were cute in her indent. He'd love the chance to re-visit!
Then, he was at eye level with her perfectly presented landing strip and the wonder of wonders lingering below.
He hit her private flight deck with blistering tongue speed.
There is frenetic pussy licking, and there is frenzied. It probably doesn't make much difference; the outcome is intense, rapid, girly pleasure magnified.
Nick's tongue embraced his stepsister in the climax zone.
"Orrgh fuck you…yeah…oh my…shit that's good…fuckin good …yeah …yeah…shit yes, ooh yes," from Mel.
She was a foul-mouthed slut when the pleasure principle was ramped in her favour.
Okay, it was the circumstances, the crash landing, but boy, was Nick outpacing even Joel's best efforts down there.
Nick's tongue curved into her cunt opening. It was sopping.
Nick's tongue spread wide as he licked her cute, crinkled lapels, leaving them saliva-glazed in the harsh late afternoon glare.
His tongue tip found her clit bud, and man, oh man, was it responsive.
Mel pushed her clitty into his face till the rising intensity forced her to stop in a shuddering climax.
"Orrgh, fuck me! Orrgh fuck me! Oh yes, oh yes, ooh frickin yes!"
Her stepbrother could have let her catch her breath and savour her orgasm, but he needed his own.
He had a bundle of mixed clothes under her and her legs over his shoulders in the long grass, and his burrowed cock deep in her warm grasping pussy.
Their positioning was decadently good.
Probably because of the intensity of the crash, maybe because it was his stepsister, and equally because, well, Mel was just a superior fuck.
She was so goddamn into being rooted senseless at this precise moment. She pushed up into his grinding down pecker. His pelvic bone and her pubic mound humped together.
It was pounding life-defining dirty friction.
There was, in the end, only one entity dirtier than this sensational humping, Nick thumping her arsehole.
Mel didn't object as she was urged onto her kneeling fours for a dogging.
The fact that it was her arse that was gate-crashed only added to her manic need.
As Nick's tongue slammed into her balloon knot, she sighed in delicious pleasure.
"Aah, aah, aah, hit that spot, stay in that frickin' spot," she moaned.
Fuck it felt good.
Mussy and mushy as it should be, as her ring edge got sensitive and moist.
Then his tongue was going around in the smallest of tightest circles over her aroused pink starfish. Edging, a shallow tunnel into her puckered, pouty, provoked balloon knot.
His tongue then delved into her emerging gape with slick, slathering slides.
A fat wriggling finger plied in and out of her arsehole, and it was her inner engine that was fired up.
Thankfully it hadn't been the plane, but boy, was Mel's arse now smoking hot.
"Ooh, ooh, ooh," she cooed, "So fuckin' good, so good, so good, aah!"
A woman's arse is a beautiful sight for a probing cock, but Mel's arse was off the Richter scale as Nick's knob eased in.
It was suddenly like you realised two cherries were on top of your ice cream sundae—not the usual one.
Mel's arse clutched and ringed perfectly tight.
His cock flexed into her constriction in utter man bliss. Her butt canal as he burrowed deeper made his cock feel incredibly sensitive all over.
The deeper he went, the more Mel's pleasure spiked. Then as his cock tugged in and out, it was like her insides were pulled out. It was superb anal sex.
Mel appreciated it, "Fuck yeah, oh fuck yeah, fuckin' yeah!"
Then Nick did his filthy best for the both of them.
He wanted to see her soft blue eyes, see her boobs swagger as her body rocked with his, watch her pussy flex as he shoved his cock in his stepsister's arse.
Nick eased her over and jabbed his cock into her bum, where Mel could see it with her head on her chin.
"Orrgh fuck," she went as she was speared, goddam impaled repeatedly.
"Orrgh fuck," over and over, from Mel.
She embraced the full-arse infiltrated state.
Nick then pushed his cock shallowly up into her arsehole, pressing up towards her pussy opening, sending exquisite pleasure hits immediately through the both of them.
"Oh my God! Yes, fuck yes! Do that, fuckin' do that! Yes, yes, ooh, yes!"
His cock kept pushing up from inside her arse but stimulated her pussy and arsehole from her rear cavity.
A new instantly addictive pleasure need, created for two; so intense, her arse enjoying the shallow pleasure, and her pussy joined in the action, too, from her pulsating arse.
It was slipstream sex. The pressure generated from her arse made her pussy tingle, too, as he pushed up from the non-standard direction.
Her big boobs joggled and bobbed—fabulous tit swaying inflation.
"Orrgh, fuck, you prick! OrRGH fuck, that's good. You dirty sod…you're a fuckin dirty sod…urrgh fuck."
It became a double grunting arse rutting in the end.
Mel cooed with an anal-gasm.
"My tits," she suddenly demanded.
Nick thought she meant to cream her boobs.
Hell, No.
Laddish titty fuckin' heaven!
Mel ceded control.
She gave her jugs to Nick to squeeze around his cock. His length slid into her spongy crevice of divine flesh. Her melons shaped his rod.
Warm and fluffy. Silky and smooth. Her fun bags swayed and jounced like frisky, nuzzling puppies. Her upper deck delivered pecker joy.
His meat stick glided in a snug marshmallow channel.
Then, his stepsister took over.
She compressed, she squeezed, she squashed her balloons together.
She shoehorned, she sandwiched, then tapered his cock head in a scooting funnel of cushioned and doughy flesh fluff.
Outrageous hooter clutch, clinch and hold. Ball bursting tit jammed perfection.
Nick could only male groan, "Orrgh, orrgh, I'm cumming, orrgh!"
He spurted like an artesian bore—a sky-high male blowout. Spume like a popped champagne bottle.
Jizz excess!
"Yum, yum, mmm, mmm," went Mel as she licked cum off her big bouncy boobs.
Mel remained surprisingly alert to the whole world in the after-throws of great sex.
So glad to be alive.
And even gladder for a monumental shag and buggering. Her arse and pussy purred, satisfied — for the moment.
But there was a whole long weekend to thank Nick.
Stepbrother, stepsister, didn't register in her thinking: it was her pussy, her arse, his dick.
The rest were conventions getting in the way of the primal, and the crash highlighted the dominance of the human elemental for Mel.
We live to copulate.
Mel looked around.
Fuck, the plane was mangled, and massive gouged sods of red earth lay scattered.
Huge divots were scooped out of the landing strip — but her private girly landing strip was in excellent nick.
Joining Nick, she commenced walking towards the homestead.
She felt the swirling squelch in her jeans. Her sticky sauna pussy and the muggy tightness of her glorious just-scooped arse cavity — about 1.25 cm away.
Yeah, the best details in life are often very close.
Who doesn't love the cutest, classy, chic margin between a woman's pleasure slots?