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Long Weekend

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It was going to be a long weekend. With Monday as a gazetted public holiday I had three days in which to do nothing, and that’s what I intended to do. I was going to just relax, bum around the house, maybe work on the car and maybe play on the internet.

I was completely unsuspicious when my mother asked if I had anything planned for the weekend.

“Nope,” I said happily. “Just one long bludge.”

“Ah, that’s good, dear,” my mother said, all smiles. “So you’ll actually be home all the time.”

“Effectively,” I said, suspecting nothing.

“Good, good. So that means you’ll be available if required. Not that I expect to require anything from you.”

“Sure,” I said absent-mindedly. “Available if required, that’s me.”

About then the first twinge of suspicion hit me.

“Ah, what are your intentions for the weekend,” I asked.

“Oh, I thought you knew,” mum said. “Your father and I are playing in the local golf tournament. We’ll effectively be on the course all weekend.”

And out of my hair. They wouldn’t be asking me to run little errands if they were on the golf course. I heartily approved of competitions that took the parents away and let me relax.

“Well, good luck on the tournament. The way you’ve been playing you should have a fair shot at winning this year.”

“I know, but Margaret will give me some stiff competition.”

The only Margaret that I had ever heard my mother refer to in regards to golf was Margaret Donaldson. She would be here for a local tournament, surely?

“Um, do you mean Margaret Donaldson?”

“That’s right,” said mum cheerfully. “She and Ted are playing this year. They’ll be staying with us for the weekend.”

That was reasonable. The parents had been close friends with the Donaldson’s since forever. Where else would they stay if they were down for the tournament. We had a couple of spare bedrooms now that my younger sister had turned eighteen and moved out to go to college.

Then the trap closed around me, and I hadn’t even seen it coming.

“It’s nice that you’ll be home all weekend. You’ll be company for Marlene.”

I took a deep breath and waited for the shock and the incipient panic attack to die down. Marlene is the Donaldson’s daughter. She was nineteen, same as me, but where I’m a relatively nice guy who gets on with people, the same couldn’t be said for Marlene.

What could be said for Marlene was that she was a supercilious, arrogant, toffee-nosed, gold-plated bitch, who made it her life’s work to tread on anyone she found inferior to her superior self. As far as I could tell, that meant everyone.

Oh, I don’t mean to say that she’d be rude to my parents. They were friends of her parents, therefore acceptable. Me, on the other hand, I was less than the dirt beneath her feet, and she was willing to let me know it. Willing, hell. She insisted that I know it.

I have learned to make a point of being elsewhere when Marlene is around. Now I was stuck with her as a house-guest and I was expected to look after her.

“Won’t she want to go to the tournament and watch you play?” I asked hopefully.

No such luck. Marlene didn’t particularly like golf. I couldn’t even make a rude comment about that, because my mother knows that I don’t like it either.

The Donaldson’s arrived later that evening. Ted and Margaret are nice. I get on well with them. Their only real fault is that they spoil Marlene rotten. Ted and Margaret smiled and greeted me. Marlene sneered and barely acknowledged my existence.

Everything went reasonably well until the oldies departed for their tournament the next morning. Up until the Marlene had been sweetness and light while still managing to ignore me. As soon as the parents left, the virago emerged.

Marlene waltzed around the house, trailing mess behind her. Naturally, I had to clean it up. I couldn’t leave it until mum got home. She’d be disappointed in me. A powerful weapon that.

Also Marlene ever asked for anything. She would demand, treating me as her personal servant, and a not too bright one, at that. She was condescending and scornful.

By the time we’d had lunch I was quietly seething. I’d have enjoyed the lunch I’d made if it hadn’t been for Marlene. Actually, I did enjoy the food. It was the company that was the pits. I decided that the next time Marlene was due to stay I’d say hang the expense and hire a butler and a chef. They at least get paid to take the abuse and general rudeness.

The last straw came early in the afternoon. It was a really nice day, hot and cloudless with a slight breeze taking the edge off the heat. Marlene wandered out to the backyard, spread a towel and sunbathed.

When I came out into the yard later I saw her there, skimpy little bikini, stretched out soaking up the sun. Her top, I noticed, was untied.

Now while deploring the woman’s personality, I can’t say the same for her figure. It was sensational, and that bikini she was nearly wearing showed it of magnificently. Even so, I would have left her alone if she hadn’t snapped her fingers and beckoned me over as if I was a busboy.

“I need some water,” she snapped. “Go and get me some.”

I looked at her, shrugged and turned to do as instructed. We had several bottles of cold water of the fridge. I grabbed one of those and took it out to her.

Standing over her I uncapped the bottle and tipped it upside down. Cold water cascaded down, drenching Marlene. She was not impressed.

She screamed and bounced to her feet and, I noticed with approval, her breasts kept on happily bouncing after she’d stopped. She was yelling at me, totally unconscious of her breasts merry bouncing as she yelled and waved her arms about. I suspect that she’d forgotten that she’d untied her bikini top and I certainly wasn’t going to remind her.

As far as I was concerned the whole affair was totally worth it, including the fallout if she complained to my mother.

Finally Marlene noticed that I wasn’t so much listening to her tell me off, but watching something. She looked down and found out what I was watching. Her voice came to a screeching halt and she turned bright red. If she’d had any sense she’d have grabbed her top and the whole incident would have been over.

Now this is just my opinion, but it seems – unwise, shall I say? – for a young woman clad in a very small bikini bottom to physically attack a man who is bigger that her, stronger than her, and only wearing a pair of shorts.

That’s what she did. I don’t know what she was trying to prove but she just came at me, hands out as claws, ready to scratch and she had some very nasty looking fingernails. I automatically caught her wrists and moved her hands away from me, which resulted in us standing facing each other, chest to chest, and my, she had a lovely chest, and I truly appreciated the way it was now pressed against me.

Instead of backing away she just tried to keep on coming. This resulted in me taking a step back, getting my feet caught in the towel she had been lying on and falling backwards. I twisted as I fell, sort of catching my balance so I didn’t come down hard, but I also brought Marlene down with me. The upshot of it was that she was on her back on the grass with me half on top of her.

The fact that she was at a disadvantage didn’t slow Marlene down at all. She was struggling, trying to pull her hands free and trying to heave me off her. She might have been better off taking heed of what I was doing.

It seems to me, if I was a girl who wore a bikini that stayed on with little string ties, I’d take steps to ensure that the ties wouldn’t come undone. A helpful stitch, perhaps, once I had the ties correctly fastened. At the very least, a double knot rather than a single bow.

I found that a gentle tug on the bow of Marlene’s bikini bottom made the strings obligingly fall away. With Marlene’s constant heaving (with some very rude verbal accompaniment, I might add) the bikini bottom also fell away. And she didn’t even notice.

That is, she didn’t notice until after I’d pushed down my own shorts and a very eager erection was pressing against her slit.

She finally held still, absolutely frozen for a moment.

“You wouldn’t dare,” she breathed out.

A little nudge and it turned out I would. The head of my cock slipped very neatly past her lips, finding a snug little resting place.

“Take it out, you filthy swine,” she shrieked. “Right now! I’ll kill you if you don’t get off me. Bastard!”

She seemed a trifle disconcerted. I pushed a little further and promptly found the reason. Marlene was a virgin. My cock was now pressing against an intact hymen.

I just held still, feeling her squirming beneath me. The way I looked at it, give her a bit of time and her own body would work against her. With a cock knocking at the door, so to speak, her pussy was going to heat up and get nice and wet whether she wanted it to or not.

“You may find it unwise to struggle too hard,” I warned her. “You wouldn’t want to accidentally press up against me, now would you?”

There was a shocked gasp and Marlene froze, looking at me fearfully.

“If you just twist about gently you may be able to push me out,” I said helpfully.

And if nothing else, the twisting about will help lubricate you, I didn’t say.

The silly girl was following my suggestion, just twisting about, her pussy holding my cock and moving gently over it. I could practically feel the moisture rising from within.

She was still abusing me, demanding that I withdraw, not just from her person but from the land of the living. I listened to her rail, felt her writhe, and smiled. I held up a finger, and she shut up for a moment.

“If you listen hard, sweetheart,” I said softly, “the next sound you hear will be the delicate pop of a cherry being broken.”

I watched as she deciphered what I meant. Her eyes opened wide and she took a big breath and promptly lost it in a squeal as I pushed forward that little bit. Her hymen yielded to a superior force, almost painlessly from the look of astonishment on her face. The squeal was more from shock than pain.

“Bastard,” she wailed. “Take it out.”

“Don’t be silly,” I chaffed her. “It’s not even in, yet. Just bear with me for a few moments and you’ll see the difference.”

With her whole passage lying before me for me to play with, why would I back off? I pressed lightly forward.

I’m not sure if I was being considerate or vindictive in the way I slid home. I just edged in, slowly, feeling her body adjust itself around me as I moved, while Marlene protested every little increment. I’ve known guys who have finished the entire show in the time it took me to finally nestle into her.

Then I just held there, smiling down at her, holding her nailed to the grass. She glared at me, apparently having run out of things to say.

“Well?” she finally demanded.

“Well what?”

“What are you doing?

“Waiting for you to start moving against me.”


“Try pressing up against me,” I suggested. “It shouldn’t be too hard, even for you.”

She glared at me while I smiled down at her and waited. Finally, with an evil look in her eye, she pressed upwards slightly. Cue for action.

I moved against her, very softly, just pressing lightly to meet her pressure and then relaxing. I continued like this, just taking her along in a gentle swaying motion. She got the idea fast enough, pressing up slightly harder, keen to have the whole thing over with.

Unfortunately, I was the person in control, and I wasn’t keen to finish. I wanted to take her to the heights, whether she wanted to go there or not. I kept things slow and easy, giving her plenty of time to come to terms with her body’s demands.

Slowly but surely I could see passion building. The fury faded from her eyes and was replaced by curiosity. She was turning inwards, feeling what was happening and exploring those feelings. I finally felt free to let go her wrists, letting my hands capture her breasts and stroke them to a fuller awareness.

She was making little sounds of passion, urging herself up against me, wanting more of the same. I kept going, building on her excitement, driving her before me.

When she finally said “Please,” I picked up the tempo slightly, starting to drive in with more force. Marlene groaned. Another, louder, “Please,” and I started hitting home quite forcefully.

Now Marlene was really starting to babble. Her whole body was twisting as she pushed frantically against me, rubbing her breasts against my hands, desperately grinding her groin up against mine as I came down on her. Her hands were clutching at my shoulders, holding me to her.

Enough was enough. I increased the tempo to top speed, driving home hard, ready to explode. Marlene was taken completely by surprise when her climax hit her. She screamed in shock and just seemed to convulse around me, her passage locking onto me while I shuddered and spent myself within her.

Marlene was somewhat subdued for the rest of the day. She sunbathed, but did her own fetching and even tidied up after herself. I had wondered if she’d complain to the parents but apparently she kept her mouth shut. I went to bed quite happy with the results of my little adventure.

I slept in a little the next day. Not long, but I was still in bed when I heard the golfing fraternity heading out. I looked out to observe both sets of parents getting in the car. Marlene wasn’t with them. I’d half expected that she would be. As the car drove of I wondered if Marlene was still in bed.

She was. I knocked and walked in without waiting for an invite, still in my pyjamas. Marlene was curled up in bed, the blankets high around her neck. She took one look at me and told me to get out.

I didn’t. I walked over, grabbed the blankets and pulled them down, leaving Marlene curled up in a shortie nightie. Quite fetching it was. I rolled her over so she was face down, bottom high, and slipped down her panties.

“What do you think you’re trying to do?” she shrieked at me. “You leave me alone.”

I had my hand on her back so she couldn’t get up while my other hand was now massaging her mound.

“I’m just increasing your sexual experience,” I told her. “Yesterday was a nice slow initiation. This time I’m going to be rough, just driving in and taking you. Now stop wriggling.”

I was on the bed behind her, hands on her hips holding her in position. Ignoring her yelling and protesting I lined up, pressing my cock lightly against her slit.

“Are you ready?” I asked.

“No,” came a very loud reply, but I assumed that she meant yes and was just getting confused in the heat of the moment. I drove home, just pushing rapidly into her. She squealed and protested, but even the casual groping I had done had been enough to get her wet, and I slid home without any trouble, accompanied by a stream of abuse.

The cry of “Take it out, you rotten pig,” was ignored and I started driving into her hard and fast. No gentle loving this time. When Marlene failed to meet my first stroke my hand came down hard on her bottom.

“Shift your ass, woman,” I snapped, already driving in again.

She shifted her ass, lifting it to accept me, and promptly copped another hard spank.

“Show some enthusiasm,” I growled, while she yelped and started moving properly.

She really was a responsive little thing. As I drove home I could feel the change coming over her as she went from reluctance cooperation to enthusiastic participation. It didn’t happen all at once, but there was a distinct difference between the “Oh, god, you bastard,” she started with, to the rapidly repeated “Oh my god,” she was saying at the end.

The way I was banging her it didn’t last anything like as long as the session we’d shared the day before. That doesn’t mean it wasn’t good. I enjoyed it thoroughly, and as Marlene climaxed magnificently and then just slumped onto the bed exhausted, I can’t see that she had anything to complain about.

I bounced off the bed, bent and gave her a kiss and headed off for a shower. I’d almost finished breakfast before Marlene came down. She totally ignored me.

The morning passed quietly. Marlene kept out of my way and I managed to do some work on my car. I made lunch and we ate it with no complaints. After lunch I was restless. Marlene was watching TV so I headed in there, idly wondering what mischief I could come up with.

Marlene had on jeans and a shirt. The shirt I could unbutton easily enough but the jeans would be a problem.

“Ah, Marlene, could you take your jeans off for me?”

Marlene jumped to her feet and backed away a little. Geez, the look she gave me. You’d think I’d asked her to strip in the middle of the street.

“What? I was just asking.”

“Yes, and if I was stupid enough to do it, you’d attack me again. Go away and leave me alone.”

“I wasn’t going to attack you, as you so crudely put it. With the jeans out of the way I was going to suggest that I show you what to do when a man makes a pass that you want to accept. I was going to just pet you a little, get you warmed up, get you out of the rest of your things, and then bend you over the couch and slowly ravish you.”

“Like I said – you’ll attack me again.”

“But this time it will be with your permission,” I pointed out. “You have to admit that makes a difference. Also, you’d get a chance to see and play with my instrument of pleasure. So far you’ve only felt it when it was actually in use. You haven’t even really seen it. Here’s your big chance.”

“Instrument of pleasure,” she laughed. “You mean tool of torment, don’t you. You must think I’m an idiot.”

“But a very sexy and responsive idiot,” I murmured. “Don’t you want a chance to touch the forbidden? Just imagine yourself bent over the arm of the couch, stark naked, knowing that I’m behind you and about to take you. Remember what it feels like when it slides slowly into you, arousing your passion.

I’ll tell you what. I’ll make you a deal.”

“Really? Nothing I want to hear, I’m sure.”

“Don’t be like that. You like to be in a controlling position. Drop your jeans and panties and bend over the couch right now and, instead of sneaking into your room tomorrow morning to ravish you, I’ll remain in bed and you can come in and ravish me. I’ll just lie flat on my back and you can hop on me and ride me, controlling all the action.”

“Let me get this straight. I should bend over and let you fuck me now and as a reward I can get fucked tomorrow as well.”

“You’ve got it. So what do you say?”

Marlene gave me a look that suggested she was wondering if there was a long line of insanity in my family, culminating in me.

“And do you seriously think I’ll go along with that?”

“Seriously? I figured that there was a strong chance that you would,” I said. “I thought you’d probably be curious as to what it would be like to have sex voluntarily and also you’d be wondering what it would be like to have me flat on my back while you rode me, controlling the action. I also thought there was a good possibility that you’d pick up the nearest heavy object and hit me with it.”

Marlene glanced at a vase sitting by the TV.

“I’m considering that right now,” she growled.

“But you’re also considering taking off your jeans, aren’t you,” I murmured.

Silence fell. It was obvious to me that Marlene was dithering. She was tempted, but to actually have sex with me after the way I’d jumped her? If left to her she was going to come down on the side of no.

I just took an ambling step towards her and casually reached out and undid the button on her jeans and unzipped. No threat – just an undoing of her jeans and then stepping back again and waiting, with an expectant look on my face. Quite often people will do something they know they shouldn’t just because they feel it is expected of them.

Now Marlene was faced with the choice of having to do up her jeans or take them off. Both choices demanded that she start doing something. Her hands went to her button and then hesitated. She visibly swallowed and then started pushing the jeans down. I didn’t let any signs of triumph show. If I had those jeans would have been back up so fast. . .

Jeans off, Marlene hesitated. I strongly suspect that if I’d suggested that the panties follow she’d have grabbed her jeans and run. Instead I sat on the couch and pulled her down next to me. Then I started stroking her legs. My hands ran up and down her legs, gliding across her panties, pressing at the soft flesh they covered. I eased myself off the couch while laying Marlene along it, my hands busy on her body.

Hands along her legs, over her panties, up under her shirt and brushing against her bra. Back and forth my busy little hands moved, managing to flick open a button on the shirt every time I passed over it. Soon I was brushing the shirt away from her leaving her breasts on display, lightly covered by her bra.

Now when my hands travelled up they teased around the bra, tracing the soft white flesh not covered, dragging my fingernails very lightly along her cleavage. Eventually Marlene gave a little hiss of exasperation and unhooked the bra. Now my mouth latched on, tasting and teasing.

My fingers had been softly probing and sneaking under the edges of her panties as I traced my hands over her body. Now I hooked onto the panties and drew them down, leaning Marlene naked once more. Standing up I dropped my trousers and got rid of my shirt, then eased onto the couch beside her.

Marlene was casting surreptitious little looks at my cock, wanting to touch it. I didn’t notice this, and it was pure coincidence when my movements caused my cock to brush against her hand. Why a naked woman would blush just because a cock touched her hand is beyond me, but Marlene blushed and then her hand closed over me.

I gave her time to get used to the size and the feel of me, her hot little hand encouraging my cock to wax strong. I could feel that she was ready, but how to take her? All I had to do was move her legs apart and come down on her but still. . .

“Marlene,” I said softly.

She looked at me, heat in her eyes.

“Time to stand up and bend over the couch so that I can ravish you,” I said teasingly.

I rose to my feet and held out my hand. She took it and I helped her to her feet. I guided her over to the arm of the couch and had her bend forward, her weight on her arms. I stood behind her, my hand covering her mound, squeezing slightly.

I eased my fingers apart, drawing Marlene’s lips apart with the motion. Then the head of my cock butted against her, pushing slowly past her swollen flesh, seeking the heated interior.

She gave a low groan of relief as I pushed forcefully home. I took the middle ground this time – not the tantalising slowness of the day before or the rough ‘here I am’ of the morning. This time I slid in firmly, letting her feel and enjoy my taking of her.

Once in her, my hands moved to take hold of her breasts. Then the music started. I pulled back and drove in smartly with Marlene responding the same way. We fell into a natural rhythm, meeting each other eagerly, coming together in a ritual that was as old as nature.

I wasn’t trying to prove anything this time around, so there was no need for a tantalising slowness or a quick roughness. I was able to just settle down and enjoy taking Marlene, knowing that she was enjoying it, too.

We came together in mutual fun, me banging into her and Marlene lifting her bottom and pushing firmly back against me, accepting me in the spirit it was offered.

I think Marlene was a little stunned to start with. Prior episodes she’d been able to voice loud disapproval of what was happening, and the fact that these cries eventually changed was neither here nor there, as she had had an excuse to sound off. Now she didn’t know what to say.

Not that that condition lasted long. It seemed that Marlene couldn’t be quiet once lust kicked in. We’d only been going for about a minute when the first, “Oh, god,” came, and after that there was no shutting her up. She squealed and squeaked and made happy sounds, all mixed in with appeals to the almighty and exhortations for me to do more.

I did more, just holding back that little bit of reserve that I knew I’d be needing at the end. Just too embarrassing if, after practically begging for her to do it, I spoiled it all with a premature ejaculation. So I held that little bit back while drilling home in fine style, building up her excitement.

When I couldn’t hold back any longer I brought out my reserves and laid into her. My cock started pounding in harder and harder and Marlene gave a yip of excitement and rode the storm. For one appalled moment I thought she was going to outlast me, but then she shrieked and started shaking with her excitement while I relaxed and let my own excitement loose.

For a change I got to cuddle Marlene for a while. I sat on the couch and held her in my lap, idly playing with a naked breast while she recovered from her exertions. When she did recover she gave me an indecipherable look, grabbed her clothes and went elsewhere.

Once again, not a word to the parents, although I suppose she wouldn’t want to, since she’d actually agreed to our latest playtime. She was very quiet over dinner and I don’t think she was really listening to what the parents were saying. Subsequently, I found out that she hadn’t.

I was lying in bed the next morning when Marlene came barging into my room. Apparently she’d remembered the promise of the day before.

“Ah, Marlene,” I said hastily, as she started to strip, “I think you’d better wait a minute.”

“No way,” she said, standing there magnificently naked. “I’m going to hop on you and ride you until you’re too tired to fuck.”

“The parents got knocked out of the tournament,” I managed to say, at the same time as a shocked voice said, “Marlene!”

Marlene went pale and slowly turned her head. Both our mothers were standing in the doorway, looking shocked.

“It’s not my fault,” she stammered. “He raped me.”

“Ah, they heard you saying you were going to ride me,” I murmured. “I don’t think saying I raped you is going to work.”

There are times you can feel sorry for someone. This was one of those times. Not sorry enough to admit that I might have raped her, but sorry, nonetheless. Her mother was furious with her. My mother was pretty ticked off at me, too, but as I pointed out, I was just lying in bed and she came onto me. Not my fault.

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