The Murdered World 48

It only took a few moments after he’d come down on top of her for Christina to discover that satisfying the hungers of a man aroused by her sister called for all of her energy, all of her skill. For all the incredible delights she got from him pumping between her legs, she was out of practice. Wearing down. It was only her determination not to be outdone by Emma that allowed the buxom woman not to simply lie back and allow herself to be used.

She matched Frank stroke for stroke, finding new reserves of passion within herself simply by looking to Emma and finding the jealous gaze her sister sent her way. She wrapped her legs around Frank, vowing not to let go until they’d both reached their peak.

“Fuck me, Punisher. Fuck the woman you widowed,” she gasped. “Angel can’t touch me, not ever again, but you can. You can give it to me—just give it to me. Give me your cum. Ram that sweet cock inside me and let me have all your hot cum!”

Frank took her in his arms, not allowing her an inch of space away from him, and jerked her upright before burying his tongue in her mouth. His hairy chest pressed against her tits; she sucked in her breath. How different it felt from the slack, undefined flesh of Angel. She clung to him and returned his kisses with a kind of need that surprised her even as it emerged. It was like his presence inside her certified that she was free from Angel, from all of it, and whatever pleasure she felt was just a bonus.

“You wanna call me your bitch? Make me your bitch! Make me come!””

With one magnificent thrust, Frank powered deep inside her with all of his throbbing manhood and then trembled in delirious release.

Reluctantly he rolled off her, his flagging erection thrust at the ceiling.

Christina lay beached on his chest, nuzzling against him until he embraced her with enough possessiveness to satisfy her. The substance of him under her touch, rigid and unyielding, helped her down from the frenetic heights she’d been at. It also tantalized her with rejuvenated desire. She knew she’d want more, soon. It was a toss-up whether sleep or lust would take her battered body first.

She stretched lazily, letting a hand wander catlike between their closely huddled bodies. She quested for his prick until it greeted her; then she gently kneaded it, working loose what remained of his ejaculate and massaging it along his member so that the musk filled the air. Christina wanted to immerse herself in it the next time she went down on him—there seemed no pretending that it wouldn’t happen again.

“Next time on my face, Castle. Like when we did it the first time.” Christina didn’t think she had much more to say after that, but more poured out. Like even with her physical lust satiated, there was more—an emotion she had to vent. She whispered something like love, only on fire, into the muscular peak of his shoulder. “You can fuck my cunt, my tits, my ass, but come in my face… my cocksucking face… yes, I have a cocksucking face, don’t I? Didn’t I just suck your cock, make you come in my mouth? Now you can come on my face… inside me… wherever you want.”

Now that it was obvious Frank wasn’t going back to her, Emma got to her feet. She swayed drunkenly, reeling against a bedpost for support, before she staggered the few steps to the neighboring bed and crawled onboard. Ending up on the other side of Frank’s chest from Christina.

Feeling her burrow against him, Frank put his arm around her. Emma took his cordiality to mean desire. Or she just didn’t care. She caressed Frank’s body, sliding her way down it trailed by her unbound hair, to kiss his semierect manhood teasingly.

Frank sighed; he felt no tension in Christina’s musculature and if she didn’t object, he didn’t see how he could.

There wasn’t much lust left in his body, but what there was, Emma found. She didn’t manage to get him in the mood, but by the time Frank slipped out of consciousness, there was a plethora of sweet dreams waiting for him.

“I can’t believe you got his cum both times,” he heard Emma say as he drifted off. “How unsisterly can you get?”

“If you can’t manage to get it—”

“Hey!”

“—I don’t see how that’s my fault.”

“You were trying to make him come, I was just enjoying the ride!”

“Well, if you wanted his cum so much…”

“Both of you knock it off,” Frank yawned, giving their bodies a warning squeeze. “If I have to gag you two to get a good night’s sleep, I will.”

“You have to come in me if you want a good night’s sleep,” Emma muttered, followed shortly by an “Oww! He pinched me!”

After that, they settled down—Frank guessed Emma wanted the last word and Christina took enough pride in not being pinched to let her have it. He resolved to come in Emma the next time they had sex; and to deny Christina the next time she got fucked.

Little games like this were infantile, but it would give them something to focus on. He would just have to try to enjoy himself.

***

When Emma woke up, it was to the warm nakedness of Christina and no one else. Frank’s presence, his brooding masculine aura, had slipped away from her as easily as water ran between fingers. In the night, she must’ve cuddled up to Christina instead. Emma felt her sister squirm against her body and, impetuously, she kissed Christina’s shoulder with soft lips.

The night of passion and the long, restful sleep had burned the need out of Emma’s body along with any sense of propriety. She felt tingling signs of their return—the need, at least. Right at that moment, as far as Emma was concerned, she’d happily go as naked as this until the day she died. What did it matter anymore? What did it matter, especially compared to how much happier she’d be when Frank could freely use her instead of wasting a lot of time with bra hooks and buttons and, God, panties…?

She heard Christina gasp sleepily, realizing it was Emma she was bundled up with. But she didn’t break either away. Just flopped her head back on the pillow and let herself enjoy the closeness, the sweet physical touch absent any thought of sex or morality.

There was something animalistic about it, Emma thought. This might’ve been how two she-wolves slept when they shared the same alpha, out there in the animal kingdom… if there were any wolves left.

Emma slid her hands around Christina’s body until she’d reached her chest. She dug her fingers into the supple flesh, to only a mild “ttch” of annoyance from her sister.

“Can’t believe these things are real,” she commented.

Christina brushed her hands away. “How wet do you want me to be the next time we see Frank?”

“I don’t think that’s up to me.”

One beep after another prodded at Emma’s hearing until it got her full attention. She turned over to saw Frank standing at the wall, manipulating the wall-mounted iPod. Its dim light scattered around his bulky, naked body. Emma saw the rippling muscles of his back, the slabs of solid flesh backing his narrow hips, and she felt her lust hasten its return to her sated body.

Christina turned over too, her front pressing into Emma’s back in another attempt at the weird, sexless, yet voluptuous intimacy they’d shared. It made Emma realize that her sister had enjoyed it too—hadn’t even minded Emma groping her a bit. Well, Emma wouldn’t mind Christina copping a feel either; though Christina probably wouldn’t appreciate if Emma took her hand, brought it to her chest, and went ‘have at it’.

It might’ve been her imagination, but Emma thought she felt the warmth Christina’s body offered growing a little… warmer. She reached behind herself to trace a finger down Christina’s hairline until she got to her pulse. It was not at the restful rate that they were sharing a moment ago.

“For shame, sis,” she whispered in Christina’s ear. “You’re a married woman.”

The gibe didn’t land as harmlessly as she’d meant. “Fuck you,” Christina hissed back. “Just because you can’t make him come—”

“I got him to go down on me,” Emma pointed out—something that had come to her in her sleep and contributed to it being so restful. “And you know we both could’ve had more orgasms if you hadn’t played dirty, just so—”

“Quiet.” Frank’s voice was low and dangerous, a rumble that pushed at the room more than moving through it. He tapped at the screen again, to an answering beep, and for the first time Emma wondered what he was doing. She certainly wouldn’t be in a hurry to get out of bed if he were still in it…

Emma had never been the kind of girl to get shy about her body after she shared it with a man, or before for that matter. She slid out of the bunk and traipsed, just as naked, up to Frank to see what he was fixated on to the point of ignoring her.