Chapter 1: Little Sister
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Fa/Fa, Mult, Voyeurism,
Desc: Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 1: Little Sister - My housekeeper asked if her little sister could come to stay with her in my house for a while. I said yes. The little sister really liked spending time on the rooftop. Complications ensued.
I WALKED UP behind her, behind the parapet where she rested her elbows to steady the binoculars. I know she heard me but she didn’t turn. Her target, the figure standing in the apartment window opposite us, apparently fresh from the shower and nude but for her hair wrapped in a towel, was easy to spot.
I leaned in close to whisper in her ear.
“You’re a bad girl, Roberta.”
No reply. I rested my hands on her shoulders, colored a light peach from the sun, and kissed the back of her neck. She smelled of sweaty girl with an overlay of sunblock and a gentle touch of shampoo. I moved my fingers in little circles, her skin smoother than the smoothest silk and without blemish.
“A very bad girl.”
I think I heard a giggle this time but still she didn’t turn, didn’t put down the binoculars.
With my fingernails I drew lines down her bare smooth back. She’d skipped her t-shirt this afternoon.
“A very very bad girl.”
Now I was certain I heard a giggle. I repeated the strokes a couple of times before I touched her flanks lightly to stroke her again, only this time I moved up and around to her almost-flat chest, perhaps the most prominent sign that even if she’d come of age more than a year ago her body hadn’t caught up yet. She shivered when I very lightly dragged my fingernails across each erect nipple where the silk of her skin yielded to slightly pebbled areolas and then to stiff little bumps.
“Really bad,” I whispered. I turned my hands over and let the pads of my forefingers pass with the lightest of touches over each nipple and up to stroke the sides of her neck. I kissed path of each stroke.
“Yes,” she turned the word into a drawn-out whisper. At the same time she widened her stance and moved back but I shifted to stand beside her. I wasn’t going to give her the pleasure of that contact. Yet.
“Aren’t you worried she’s going to notice you, Roberta?”
At this she lowered the binoculars and turned to look at me. She shrugged.
“I don’t care.”
“Besides, she’s the one in front of the window, right? I’m standing on my own azotea minding my own business.”
Aside from the minding her own business bit and that it was my azotea, not hers, she had a point. If the neighbor wanted to display herself she could hardly complain if others noticed.
Roberta let the binoculars rest against her chest.
“What are you doing home so early, don Alejandro?”
Cheeky, it was my house and Roberta was here as a favor to her big sister, my housekeeper.
“Checking on you, querida.“
I’d known for some time what the pint-sized minx was up to but wanted to confirm it. Showing up when your household staff doesn’t expect you is sometimes very enlightening. My colleague James told me he’d arrived home once unexpectedly during the siesta, a custom not observed by most businesspeople in this capital city, to find a small orgy in his living room. What made it pretty funny was three or four members of the little Bible study group his cook had organized and hosted, with his permission, for a couple of years by then, in a tangle of nude bodies on the rug.
There wasn’t any doubt who was in charge. Marta, the cook, stood over the group as tall as her four feet eleven inches would let her, legs apart, her pubic curls thick and wet and tangled. Her full breasts, nipples extended, were spattered with what looked like semen. She had a stiff brush in her hand and at least two of the visible bottoms, male and female, were red and marked, James said. I wondered if he’d joined them but if so he didn’t share that part of the story with me.
Plus, and I’ll just lay this out right now, I had other thoughts, ones I was pretending to stay away from, but I’d decided where I was going and the only real question was how long it would take to get there and how many twists and turns the road might have. Two, or even three, could dance this dance. My housekeeper was a worthy foe, her little sister a quick and enthusiastic study.
“And what, Roberta?”
“You know what I mean. Is it OK?”
“If she gets ticked off and does something about it, sweetie, it’s all on you.”
“Yeah. That’ll be the day.”
I wondered if she’d seen the movie. Probably not, although everyone around here seemed to know who John Wayne was.
“Are you going to get in the water, don Alejandro?”
“I think so.”
“May I join you?”
She knew the answer. I’d long ago given her and her sister permission to use the hot tub in a corner of the roof whenever they wished. A lattice screen on two sides and large plants in pots all around gave it some privacy, although perhaps less than we might have liked during the day, especially from those on the upper floors of the high-rise Roberta liked to inspect with her binoculars. I had a feeling there might be more than one person up there with his or her own pair of glasses, perhaps including the present target of Roberta’s surveillance. She may not have been nude like her target, but despite her boyish figure Roberta was clearly female and topless.
“Of course, Roberta. You know that.”
She put the binoculars on the bench beside her and skipped over to the hot tub, stripped off her shorts and hopped into the water wearing only her panties. I went downstairs to my bedroom and changed into my swimsuit. Nude was better, except not this afternoon, not alone with this frisky little person who clearly had learned more from her sister than was good for her.
I had yet to yield to her sister, even if this wasn’t the first time I’d used my fingernails on Roberta and Sara knew it. I was pretty sure my fingernails weren’t the first ones to drag across her smooth skin and her little nipples that soon would adorn real breasts, either. So far I was confident there were no unannounced visitors when I wasn’t home, but the looks and giggles and snatches of conversation I overheard, especially when the two returned from a weekend visit with their parents and siblings in that cow town up north, suggested Roberta learned fast and enjoyed each discovery.
I’d drifted off into a doze when something wet hit me in the chest. I opened my eyes to see the minx grinning from the other side of the hot tub. I looked down. Her panties floated in the water between my legs.
“Gotcha, don Alejandro!”
Her grin grew wider. She stuck out her tongue at me, but it was no use. I’m a rock, I am.
“Roberta...” I tried to put some kind of authority in my tone.
She stuck out her tongue again and I snapped. I moved across the tub and grabbed her and put her over my knee and swatted her smooth light peach butt. Twice on each cheek. Hard.
I’ve lived here ten years. My Spanish is pretty good although I’m not sure that’s even a real word. Doesn’t matter, it fit the moment, or so I thought. Later her sister explained to me that depending on the circumstances, and especially in the diminutive, it’s more an endearment than an insult. I kind of meant it both ways, anyway.
Roberta wriggled on me and I responded in the manner I’m sure she hoped for. She resisted but I pulled her off me and back onto the seat. I manhandled her, deliberately, I confess, probably to her delight. I put my arm around her shoulders and hugged her to me.
I kissed her cheek.
“Enough, Roberta, OK?”
I kissed her again.
She shrugged and mock-pouted but she couldn’t conceal the grin underneath. I felt her hand on my thigh but I stood up and went back to the opposite side of the tub before she reached her target.
“My butt hurts, don Alejandro.” I saw her hand move under the water. “And I didn’t know you could talk so dirty.”
“Behave yourself, Roberta.”
Once more the tongue thing. Her hand continued its circles. She held my gaze for another minute or so until her hand moved faster and she seemed to lose herself. I was erect but I didn’t move a muscle. She finished with a gasp and sagged back on her bench, eyes closed, a broad smile on her lips, her hand still between her thighs.
When her eyes opened her impudent grin replaced the smile.
“I’m going to get some sun, don Alejandro. Is that OK?”
She knew it was OK. I didn’t encourage it but I liked the view.
“Sure, Roberta, but only in that corner, you know the one.”
She climbed out of the water and without showing off too much made her way over to the corner with the best screen yet still in full sun. I bet myself her request for help with the sunblock would come within two minutes. I won the bet.
“Don Alejandro, do my back, will you, please?”
I worked her from her shoulders all the way down. Alternated smooth strokes to spread the goop with firm circles and presses at the right spots on her shoulders and back. She grunted and hummed in approval. I had no doubt how it would play out if I followed her lead. I’d get close to her rear end and her legs would open a little more and all the rest of it. The first part was right on target and I admit I spent a little extra time there to soothe her trim bottom. I’m human and my hands had lives of their own as they palmed her red buns with a light touch and stroked her.
Then I kept going. Down her legs, that is. Her grunts of approval seemed to take on an edgier note when I skipped right over the tempting target between her thighs. Too bad. Even though I was generous with the goop on her thighs and took extra care to spread it evenly I kept going south. When I finished with her calf muscles and moved down to her toes, I heard her sigh.
“Thank you, don Alejandro.”
I patted her bottom once or twice and let my hand linger an extra second or two after each pat.
“You’re welcome, Roberta.”
She turned over. Her grin was back.
“Help me with my front, don Alejandro?”
I looked her over top to bottom, from her blondish mop to her eyes and her grin, to her chest with its two erect nipples, and down past her center with the beginnings of pubic hair. It was my turn to grin as I tossed the tube of goop onto her flat stomach.
“You’re on your own, kid.”
She pouted, and when I turned away I heard her snicker.
“I’m taking off, Roberta. Behave yourself, OK?”
I thought I heard the local equivalent of a Bronx cheer behind me but when I looked back all I saw was a smile. She waved. As I opened the door from our azotea to the house proper I caught the flash of reflected sun off a lens in an open window of the apartment building. At least one neighbor was enjoying whatever view there was of Roberta.
On the way down I passed Sara on the narrow circular stair. It’s just possible to go by without touching on this thing if you’re careful, but today Sara didn’t even try. Her hand brushed me and I felt her breasts press against my shoulder as she climbed past me.
“Sorry, don Alejandro.”
“No worries, Sara. Roberta’s outside sunning.”
Sara grinned but she didn’t reply.
Back in my bedroom suite I stripped my swimsuit off and stepped into the shower and took care of urgent matters. By now the signals from both women were too clear and too strong to be mistaken or denied. Roberta’s day would come soon, I promised myself, and I wouldn’t neglect Sara.