Chapter 4

“You can relax,” Phyllis said unnecessarily to the blonde girl reclining on the chaise. She wiped her brush on the rag and dipped it into the thinner. “It’s finished.”

The nude girl leaped up from the lounge. “Can I see it?” She came around the easel to gaze at the portrait. “It’s wonderful. Do I really look that beautiful?”

Phyllis enveloped the girl in her arms and kissed her with passion. Finally breaking the kiss she said to her, “Oh yes my little love.”

Phyllis was wearing a light painters smock, besmirched with splotches of paint, but beneath it she was as naked as her niece. She drew Clarissa in to kiss her again and felt the girls hands under her smock as the blonde reach up to knead her breasts.

Clarissa pulled her around the easel and soon the pair were making out heavily on the chaise lounge. The smock was in a puddle on the floor. Clarissa was laying on top of the brunette, the hard nipples of her breast rubbing across her lover’s as her lips and tongue devoured the woman’s mouth.

Suddenly Clarissa broke the kiss. Her blonde trestles moving in waves as her she licked the woman’s large sensitive breasts. When she reached Phyllis’s hard nipples she nipped and sucked on them and the woman pulled her head more tightly into her massive tits.

“Oui mon amour,” the woman moaned.

Clarissa moved lower. Her tongue moved across the underside of Phyllis’s breasts. Reaching up, her hand began to pinch the nipple as Phyllis begged, “You know what I want.”

Clarissa moved lower. Her hand reached between the woman’s legs. Her fingers rubbed across the clit, poking out of its hood while two fingers plunged into the moist slit.

“Oh yessss!”

Clarissa continued to plunge her fingers in and out as her tongue lapped at the woman’s mons.

“Oh yes. So ... close...”

Clarissa suddenly backed down and Phyllis found herself pulled back from the brink. Clarissa reached down with her free hand and caressed the back of the woman’s knees. Phyllis felt her passion raise again, but once again the clever blonde pulled her back from the brink.

The woman was mewing now, panting and incapable of speech. Clarissa dove in her tongue moving in tight, neat little plunges as Phyllis thrust her hips to push her cunt into the girl’s face. Phyllis’s fists pounded on the chaise in frustration as she hung on the precipice that her blonde lover would not let her fall over.

Clarissa kept her there, licking, sucking, thrusting and biting the keep her lover edging closer and closer to the little death that her body so desperately sought, only to hold her back from the nirvana she so desired.

Then suddenly it once again enveloped her like a wave breaking on the shore. First she was seeking with all her being to grasp the orgasm that seemed just outside her reach then she was wrapped in it, as her body was racked with endless pulses of pleasure.

As before, the feelings of hormonal excess extended into minutes of mind numbing ecstasy as Clarissa continued to drag the cum out of her. The woman panted and moaned and mewed and drooled as control over her body was relegated to the sexy blonde who sought to pull every last ounce of orgasmic feeling out of her older lover.

So entranced were the women in their debauchery that they did not hear the front door open or hear the steps in the hall. They were blissfully ignorant of the blue eyes widen in shock as he watched his mother writhing in passion as her blonde lover ravaged her until they heard a male voice cry out, “Oh mon Dieu!”

Phyllis was jerked out of her hormone fueled high as orgasmic after shocks continued to run through her frame.

“My God, Jon Phillip!” she cried.

Clarissa rose up to see the young man turn and run from the room. Ignoring her nakedness she jumped up and ran after him. As she passed through the hall she heard the door to the courtyard slam. Crossing the main room she saw bags sitting next to the door. She ran through the room into the courtyard.

The cottage was not especially close to any neighbors. It was a long walk down the road to the nearest town. Sure enough she saw him fumble with his phone, no doubt trying to get a driver back out to pick him up.

She knew who he was, though she had not seen him for many years.

“JP,” she called out to him.

He looked up. No one had called him that for many long years. No one called him that other than his silly, smart America cousin. He looked up to see a nude young woman whose lush curves and sexy body was as far away from the skinny fourteen year old he had known.

“JP,” she said in almost a plea. “Don’t you know me?”

“Clarissa?” he answered finally. His voice was English tinged with a trace of French. “My Lord, you’re naked!”

“Why don’t you come back with me, before more people come along and notice,” she said. “Please JP come back and talk to me.”

He looked at her and was ashamed of the hard cock that was held tightly down by his silk briefs. In truth he had watched for several minutes before crying out. The sight of his mother writhing in pleasure under the ministrations of the then unknown girl was massively erotic.

He stepped toward her and she turned to lead the way back into the cottage. They stopped in the front parlor.

“Is it really my little geeky cousin there?” he asked.

“Not so little any more,” the girl said preening before him. He turned away. “Sorry,” she said. “Wait here. I’ll go throw something on and check on your mother.”

Clarissa returned to the studio. It was empty. Going further down the hall she checked Phyllis’s bedroom. The still nude woman was laying on the bed sleeping. Clarissa could see the tears still on her cheeks.

She went next door to the other bedroom, the one she had not slept in since her third night at the cottage. She slipped on the white men’s shirt she had worn the day she seduced Phyllis. It had belonged to her father, and was just long enough to cover her pubes and ass, provided she kept her arms below her shoulders. She left the top three buttons undone, which revealed her enticing cleavage.

Going out to parlor she saw that JP had poured himself a drink. It was one of the German beers that she knew Phyllis had in the house. She stepped to the refrigerator and got one for herself. Opening it she drank straight from the bottle.

“She’s cried herself to sleep.” The girl dropped on to the couch next to him, the one that just yesterday had seen her TP’ed by three Canadian students.

“How long...” he began.

“Have we been lovers?” the girl answered his question with a question.

“Have you been here?”

“I arrive last week. I guess she didn’t know you were coming?”

“I was to be in the UK with dad. But his boyfriend had some kind of meltdown and they ran off to Scotland for something. I had no interest in hanging around London on my own, so...” He took a sip of his glass. “I suppose I should have called. I wanted to surprise...” he stopped, looking uncomfortable.

Clarissa was surprised that she was feeling something. A spark? An attraction? She had never been especially close to Jon Phillip. That had met several times when Phyllis had visited her brother, that last time when Clarissa had been a geeky high school freshman at the tender age of fourteen. She had not blossomed yet, as she would at fifteen. No one would have picked her for the beautiful cheerleader she would soon become.

Sensing his discomfort Clarissa took another gulp of her beer to give her time to answer.

“She’s a wonderful artist,” she said suddenly.

He looked at the young woman, struggling to keep his eyes on her face, as her breasts danced wonderfully under her white shirt. “I know,” he said.

“She’s been painting me,” the girl stated. She rose from the couch. “Would you like to see?”

But that would mean returning to her studio, he thought. The studio where he had seen her moving in sapphic ecstasy. He stood and followed the enticing blonde down the hall, adjusting his throbbing hard dick while hoping she hadn’t noticed it.

In fact Clarissa hadn’t. She was too busy dealing with her own feelings. There was something happening to her. It wasn’t lust. Lust was an old friend to the young blonde. She had lusted after many men and not a few women, most of whom had eventually succumbed to her skillful sexual charms sooner or later. Men like her father and woman like her mother and aunt.

This was different. This was something else, though there was definitely an element of lust to it, why else would her cunt be so wet it was leaking fluid down her inner thigh?

They stepped into the studio and Jon Phillip’s eye took in the stained smock on the floor next to the chaise lounge, as well as the piece of furniture itself which once again brought to mind the form of his naked mother heaving under the skillful care of his sexy cousin. He sucked in air, his head light with a mixture of emotions.

Clarissa stepped behind the easel in the corner, light from the northward facing windows lighting both the chaise and the portrait. To see the painting JP was forced to join her in the tight corner. He could feel her presence mere inches from him as he took in the portrait.

It showed a woman recline on the chaise. She was nude. Her long blonde hair flowed behind her. In her left hand she held a cigarette and a thin plume of smoke wreathed up beside the figure. He could see a rash extended from her perfect breasts, topped with exquisite brown nipples, to her neck. On her face was the most perfect look of joy, happiness and total contentment. She looked totally and completely relaxed, from her face down to her perfectly shaped toes.

“She’s breathtaking,” he said. Turning to her he said, “You’re breathtaking.”

His eye locked with hers and suddenly Clarissa saw it. The Marshall gene’s were strong in this one. Jon Phillip looked exactly like a younger version of her father. Same nose, same ears, same chin, same cheekbones, same devastating blue eyes. His hair was a little lighter, but otherwise he was the image of her father. The same father that Clarissa had been madly in love with since she was sixteen. The same father she had seduced and carried on an affair with on and off since that time, including a dazzling summer she had shared him with her dazzling bisexual mother.

Jon Phillip was having trouble breathing. The girl was in his personal space. He could smell her scent. Not the scent of perfume, but the scent of her womanhood, which permeated her. He wondered briefly if he was smelling his mother on her breath.

Clarissa felt lost in his eyes. She was falling into them. Her tongue licked across her upper lip in unconscious invitation and suddenly his lips were on hers.

His tongue speared through her lips and her breath was pulled out of her. She couldn’t breath as she felt his hands tearing at her shirt. The buttons flew as he pushed her back to the wall his mouth now locked on her breast.

Clarissa’s hands were pulling at his belt. His zipper was down and the pants dropped to the floor as she felt his hard erection, precum leaking into her hands as they stroked him. She lifted her right leg, wrapping it around his waist, she pulled him to her. Her hands lined his diamond hard prick up with her sopping wet cunt as her leg pulled him into her.

There was no subtle sexual play or loving foreplay. As his hard prick penetrated her Clarissa began to cum. Her orgasm was like a tidal wave which rolled over a waterfront village, crushing everything in its path.

Only his mouth, covering hers, prevented her animalistic scream from disturbing the sleeping woman nextdoor.

He pumped only five times into her and then he was cumming. Shot after shot pumped into her. By the fourth shot Clarissa was coming again, her leg pulling in him as deep as possible, while her toes curled and her hard nipples pressed into his rough shirt.

Clarissa was pinned to the wall like a captured butterfly her body hanging on his still hard prick. She sagged, held up only by his arms around her.

“To bed,” she grunted. “Take me to bed.”

Jon Phillip stepped out of his pants, leaving them is the studio, as he lifted the girl into his arms. He carried her into the spare bedroom. Dropping Clarissa on the bed he pulled off his shirt, the only remaining piece of clothing now on his body. Then crawling between Clarissa’s legs he dipped his tongue into her pussy, still full of his own cum.

“Ohhhh fuck!” the young girl cried as either a tiny orgasm or a massive aftershock ran through her body. Clarissa’s hands reached for his head, entwining in his dark hair as his tongue moved up to tease her clit.

“Ohmygawd!” she squealed as her hips thrust up, and her thighs closed trapping him. Her eyes rolled back in her head as her body clenched as the orgasm tore through her body.

When her body dropped back down to the bed she begged, “No more ... no more...” But his tongue lapped her relentlessly and soon she was screaming, “Oh yes!, Oh God! Yes!” as another set of orgasms ran through her as her head rolled back and forth her hair sweeping across the pillow.

Finally the girl sagged bonelessly to the bed and her cousin climbed up to take her in his arms.

“Mon Dieu!” she sighed. “Where did you ever learn to do that?”

He smiled that same smile that her father did and Clarissa felt her heart melt. “Oh so my slutty little cousin is not the only one who knows how to eat a woman.”