The Best Week of my Life Pt2

Tuesday

It was hard to believe, but the broken knee I’d suffered in the previous evening’s accident actually had its advantages. Unable to climb the stairs at the flat, the next day I found myself in my parents’ care. Unconditionally taken back under their wing, they agreed to let me live in their bungalow, along with my youngest sister Sophie, until I was back on my feet. Just as well, for my ex-girlfriend Debbie had given me a week to vacate the flat. At least this way I’d have a roof over my head for six to eight weeks. Despite being an independent soul in my ‘former life’, as Tuesday progressed, I grew to love the fuss and attention, especially when it came from the lovely Sophie.

Soon settled into a convalescent routine, the morning drifted idly by. Then, at lunchtime, something happened to turn things on their head. A call came through that mum’s sister, Aunt Edith, was at death’s door. And so, practically as soon as I’d arrived, my doting parents were gone. Between us, Sophie and I convinced them we could cope. My sister’s assuredness cheered me, though I soon discovered a vested interest: she planned to take advantage of the situation by having two friends over.

From my couch, I overheard her on the telephone, busily making excited plans. First up was Jessie, the call accompanied throughout by giggling. Quite what they had planned, God only knew, but I suspected – and secretly hoped – that it involved a sleepover. Then it was on to her other pal Gina, but with less success, so Sophie left a message. And then it was over to me with all doe-eyed innocence. “You don’t mind, do you Steven? Only we’re off to the seaside together tomorrow morning and it would be nice to get together first.”

I could hardly object, could I? I was, after all, the grateful guest, and she lived here. Besides which, sharing living space with three teenaged girls was hardly the modt horrid prospect in the world. “So what are these friends of yours like?” I enquired a little later, matter-of-factly so as to exude an air of cool seniority and avoid sounding too interested in underage girls. Though the fact was that Ally Tranter had unleashed in me an unquenchable desire for sweet young flesh.

“In what way?” Sophie enquired, the words accimpanied by a coquettish smile and the twiddling a few strands of blonde hair around a slender index finger.

I meant, of course, what did they look like? Sophie knew I wasn’t interested in whether they were kind to animals or their predicted grades at school. I was, after all, a normal hot-blooded guy with the usual urges, albeit those urges had started running dangerously out of control after my liaison with the Tranters. Already once already during this brief convalescence, I’d hauled my body up to sneak a peek on Sophie getting changed in her room. Gaining welcome brief flashes of her undergarments, my yearning was satiated temporarily, though I craved more, so much more.

“Mmm, tell you what, Steven, I can show you,” she imparted with a giggle, adding with a scrunched-up nose: “What my friends look like, that is.”

Five minutes later the laptop was on my lap, nudging an already semi-aroused cock. Leaning over me closely, Sophie’s girliish aroma filled my nostrils. As she bent, a budding pair of breasts jiggled inside the shirt, a hint of lace-clad flesh visible through the gap in the buttons. Oh how I could just reach over and cup those lovely pert tit mounds. My breathing upped a notch whilst my bloated penis head grazed the bottom of the computer. As she moved, Sophie’s left breast brushed my cheek, accompanied by a gentle feminine gasp, causing a tingle to spread warmly around my groin.

Seemingly unaware of the effect her presence was having on me, Sophie clicked on one of the files, revealing several thumbnails. She clicked again, setting the screen blossoming with colour. The picture was of Sophie and her friends taken during a winter school holiday. Another little shiver of excitement teased my groin, though all three girls were fully decent. It was, I guessed, a combination of knowing these nubile girls would be sharing the bungalow for the next two days and my newfound burgeoning sexdrive.

Gina, Sophie pointed out, was the tallest of the three, a statuesque raven haired beauty with a catwalk-like demeanour and a crooked Julia Roberts-esque smile. The thick orange sweater offered no clue as to the delights that lay beneath, though Sophie let slip gigglingly that her friend wore a double D cup. Sophie herself was in the middle in the photo, as cute as a button as her long blonde hair stretched like tentacles in the breeze. In a padded white ski coat, she looked a vision of virginal innocence. The third girl, Jessie, looked younger than her friends, a petite vision in rectangular glasses. Her anorak was open at the front to reveal a grey sweatshirt. My curiosity piqued sufficiently, I wondered whether Sophie had any other pictures, perhaps taken at a less inclement time of year and with more flesh on display.

At that moment the phone rang and Sophie left my side momentarily to pick it up. Evidently it was Gina, returning the message. Thinking fast, I reduced the screen, eyes scanning for other files that might feed the insatiable hunger. One was entitled ‘Sophie – private’. Well that was enough to warrant further investigation. Checking she was still engaged on the phone, I clicked. This action created three fresh thumbnails. Glancing up to check the coast was clear, my heart raced with anticipation and the fear of getting caught. The screen expanded with colour once more, the resultant image causing a severe exhalation of breath and bug-eyed expression to form on my face. Having been content to uncover a bikini snap or even one in t-shirt and shorts, somehow this pushed the boundaries to their limits.

There before my eyes, in all her naked glory and on the very couch I was seated, was young Sophie, posing for the camera like something out of a top shelf magazine. Her blonde hair tied in a ponytail, my eyes feasted on her breasts, a perfect b-going-on-c-cup and as firm and ripe as two peaches. By the way her pretty pink nipples stood to attention, either it was extremely cold or she was extremely excited. Moving my eyes slowly down her body, past the ladylike expanse at the hips, I fixed on the most beautiful snatch, lightly brushed with soft straw-coloured wispy hair. Oh this was absolute heaven, a real discovery, and I only wished there were more time to savour the delight. My appreciative eye noted that her pussy lips were plump and pouty with a feint glistening of arousal.

Quickly I exed out of the image, frightened of discovery, though the conversation with Gina seemed in full, unstoppable flow, and there might yet be time to open a second file. The screen expanded to reveal Sophie taken from an aerial view, stretched out the length of the couch, legs parted, heels resting on the padded arm. Lips parted seductively as if moaning, one hand cupped a breast whilst the other had strayed between her legs. Impossible to tell whether she was fingering herself, the look on her otherwise innocent features suggested she might well be.

To my amazement and delight, the conversation with Gina showed no sign of concluding, so guiltily I moved to the third and final thumbnail, only too aware of how hard I’d become when my cock almost tried to burrow up through the laptop like a drill.