Why teens don't load the dishwasher?
Sweet eighteen and needing an arse filling
Like any adult managing a household and trying to keep it presentable and tidy, new stepparents insist that the young college offspring under their roof pull their weight with the basics and participate in the washing-up roster.
Delia Rogers wondered how hard it could be for her daughter J'Arnie and her stepson Hamish to scrap a few plates, stack a few items, put a cube in the dishwasher, and turn the bloody thing on.
It seemed too hard. As usual, she scratched her head, wondering what compelling activities were side-tracking these two.
Hamish was full of good intentions.
J'Arnie was just full of sexual intent.
After dinner, their stepparents went to a movie. The young pair had to clean the dining table, fill the dishwasher, turn it on, and do their homework.
Hamish had a physics assignment that really needed doing. It was due in a couple of days.
J'Arnie was more intent on immediate practical friction than some theoretical energy principle.
She had carnal get-up-and-go, and it was headed for release in only one direction.
Hamish had the plates off the table.
J'Arnie at least got the condiments away.
Our blonde six-footer basketball point guard was scraping scraps into the bin. J'Arnie, meanwhile, was licking some of the whipped cream remaining in the bowl from their peach tart dessert.
Great ideas from sluts seemingly come out of nowhere.
J'Arnie had never had a creamed cock before. Well, she had had plenty of the jizzed variety but a long schlong like an éclair with natural cream; no.
And suddenly, she wanted one right now.
Bugger the washing up.
Nothing comes between a girl and that immediate need for cock when the thought stirs.
She was a bad, bad girl, and she knew it.
Hamish was doing the right thing. He was starting to stack the dishwasher.
J'Arnie was straight into her own need thing. The so-easy dropping of Hamish's shorts and jocks in one swift action from behind.
God, she loved catching him out. He was so easy to surprise.
Our big blonde dude may have been initially caught out. Still, he could hit sexual arousal faster than manoeuvring around an opponent in a big game.
Fuck the dishes.
Well, you can't fuck them anyway.
The five-foot-five brunette with appealing blue eyes had cock in her gob and was working it with a flourish.
Hamish had to steady himself against the kitchen bench. Such was her forceful, powerful sucking work.
Boy, was she focussed, and he really appreciated the pecker action.
"Ah, J'Arnie! Aah, orrgh, orrgh," he groaned.
J'Arnie was giving cock the attention it deserves.
The complete service job. Hamish's cock was glistening with her saliva and throbbing with her technique. She had the flick-and-suck combination down to a tee.
She grabbed a dollop of cream in her hand and smeared it along her stepbrother's shaft.
Fuck, it looked appealing.
Fuck, it tasted good.
And fuck, it was exciting and added a layer of friction; that added a layer of pleasure for both of them.
Yum, yummy, luscious; hard, wet creamy cock.
Hamish reached the point where his pecker was so happy he just had to taste his stepsister's pussy.
He recalled it was only a couple of days ago that all this had started in his own bed, and he was glad she wanted more because he wanted more, too.
Geez, she was easy to strip. Well, it was only a pair of tight shorts and no panties, the sluttish bitch and her T-shirt and bra were quickly flung on the floor.
Hamish gave J'Arnie the pleasure of a quick titty fondle and tweak.
Man, did she have quality marshmallow-soft, mouldable breasts.
He knew already she liked it dirty from his bedroom. So, he spun her around and kissed her fetching butt cheeks.
Rump delight.
So, peachy shapely.
His tongue bulls-eyed to prodding suddenly and eagerly into her ring.
He had to know, though he suspected; he knew already — how she would react to her arsehole being teased.
"Oh, you bastard...mmm, mmm, mmm... don't stop... lick it...kiss it...finger it...please...mmm...mmm."
Yes, J'Arnie wanted it all at the same time.
Everything; a guy's tongue, fingers and cock can do; in your back cavity.
Her arse was a full partner in her pleasure crafting routine, and it was getting its fair share of attention right now.
Hamish was enjoying his stepsister's moaning and her body quivering around her crinkled cupid's furrow. She was going wild over the backdoor attention. She was close to delirious bliss.
"Oh, fuck yeah...keep your tongue there...right there... poke me there...oh yeah...mmm...oh."
Hamish knew the next logical step, though he was over-excited and wanted to ram his cock straight into her cute starfish.
He steadied and got his fingers to work. One, then two.
If he thought the brunette was feverish with his tongue, she was ecstatic with his dirty, deep finger probing.
"You prick...you dirty prick...I knew you were a filthy prick...oh god...mmm...deeper, you bastard...oh fuck...oh ...oh."
His stepsister's dirty talk really drove the blonde basketball champion hunk to filthier probing than usual with a girl.
But hey, this was no ordinary girl; it was awesome J'Arnie, his fucking stepsister.
Hamish was as uncontrollable in his lust as was J'Arnie.
She spread her legs wide with both her hands inside her thighs, ready to get butt filled.
The athlete was primed. He had the twin-hole invitation. Her arse was getting it.
Hamish, however, made the selfish decision that he had plenty of time.
He was having both of her openings. Her slit, then her crack.
Double dipping the wick.
J'Arnie got a surprise at his choice, but it felt so fucking good anyway.
"Your arse is next bitch;" as he pumped her pussy; "I want you to wait. I want you to beg for it...beg for it... I'm waiting."
The brunette's pussy was soaking and happy. She couldn't avoid giving her clitty some finger attention. Her pussy pleasure had her distracted-albeit temporary- from arsehole delight.
Wow, was this good; still, her arse really, really needed his enormous cock.
She wanted to know if Hamish was a first-rate arse pleaser. She was in the zone of just needing to know.
"Fuck that's good...deeper and harder, you prick...but keep something for my arse in a minute, you bastard."
Hamish really went for speed and depth. Her coochie was so creamy and tightly gorgeous.
She was a sweet teen screw between her back thighs. His body pounded into her delicious arse cheeks. Stroke after deep controlled stroke. This was quality pecker work for superior pussy.
"Crap!" from J'Arnie.
"Bugger," from Hamish.
They both heard the family 4WD pull alongside the house and the garage open.
They had no time to escape.
Their stepparents would catch them, for sure. They would be through the side door and into the kitchen in a minute.
Luckily, the step-siblings didn't have massive layers of clothing to get back on. Still, Hamish had a throbbing boner that wanted release, not packing away, and it was still super hard and straining in his pants.
Can't hide a boner.
"Quick, let's watch TV in the longue and get a magazine over that stiff, swollen sword," said J'Arnie.
"What are you doing? "Delia Rogers inquired from the archway.
She waggled a finger at the pair.
"The washing up isn't done. You haven't finished packing the dishwasher. Well, J'Arnie!"
"Oh, got distracted," from J'Arnie, "Remembered the Discovery channel doco on energy."
"Hamish," said Ted McDonald, joining Delia, "Come on, make an effort; you said you would do your share. Did you think you had till midnight? Well, I suppose you did. The cinema had a fire alarm malfunction and had to be cleared, and the chief wouldn't let anyone back in. So, we have complimentary tickets for a rescreening."
He scratched his neck.
"Still, the bloody washing up, come on, it's not too much to ask."
Delia Rogers was then packing the dishwasher herself.
It was on and going through its first cycle; when she said to herself: "What's so frickin hard about that?"
Hamish's hardness was gone, but there was pressure in his blue balls.
He excused himself and went upstairs. He would have to polish off his own knob tonight.
J'Arnie felt arse deprived. But she was a true optimist. There was always tomorrow.
And as Delia got Ted and herself a glass of chardonnay, she was left contemplating: Why can't teens even finish loading the frickin dishwasher?
Well, if she knew the answer…