When my first wife, Anne, was in the hospital awaiting the delivery of our second daughter, her mother and youngest sister, Candi, came to Bozeman to help out. Candi's husband was in jail and she had filed for divorce.

Mae, Anne's mother, had to return to Shelby (a distance of about 200 miles) to perform some errand -- and was gone two nights while Anne was in the hospital. Candi remained behind to cook for me and help get the house ready for Anne's return.

Candi, at 17, was a very attractive girl with a beautiful hourglass figure. After mom left for Shelby, Candi decided the house was too warm for all those pesky clothes, and the next thing I knew, she was parading around the house clad only in her bra and a tiny pair of baggy shorts, displaying her long, coltish legs to their best advantage.

After supper, we played cards for a short time in the kitchen, but I had to study, so I moved into the living room and opened my agronomy book. I've never had a keen interest in soil management, and consequently, I had difficulty concentrating, especially after Candi returned to the living room and sprawled full length on the couch.

Somewhat to my chagrin, she was studying a copy of "Playboy" I had hidden in our bedroom. Her legs were carelessly spread, one extending full length on the couch toward me, while her right foot rested on the floor.

At first, I noticed only the magazine she held in her hands, but then I realized it concealed her face, and since she couldn't see me, I began openly admiring her girlish bra covered breasts. While I was studying her figure, she absently reached down to scratch her groin and adjust her shorts. That adjustment resulted in opening one leg so I could see her panties.

Although I felt my cock stir in response, I was sure her flashing was accidental. A few minutes later, she sat up and hooked her thumbs under her bra cups. "This thing is getting awfully uncomfortable. Would you mind if I took it off?"

"I'd like you to take it off," I said without thinking. I tried to recover. "I mean I don't want you to be uncomfortable."

I tried to ignore her knowing look toward my crotch, now hidden beneath my text book, as if to say but it looks like it's making you uncomfortable! I couldn't think of anything clever to say, so I just grinned and watched her reach behind and unhook her bra. Then she hunched her shoulders forward, letting the straps fall off her shoulders. Watching me, she held the bra cups in place for a moment or two, then lifted them away, letting her breasts bounce free. She dropped her bra in her lap and massaged her breasts, especially rubbing the reddened places where the bra had chafed under her breasts and on her ribs.

I don't know if I have ever seen anything as erotic as the way she rubbed her breasts. I was openly staring like a teen age boy, of course, wondering where this was going to lead us.

She seemed unperturbed by my attention. "Ah," she sighed. "That feels a lot better."

Her breasts were firm, but almost as large as Anne's so they quivered as if they were molded from jelly whenever she moved. I hadn't realized until then that her areola still had the puffiness of adolescence, and almost automatically, I began to speculate how tight her young pussy was and, more to the point, how it would feel around my cock, which even then was straining to lift lift the heavy textbook in my lap. I longed to begin stroking it.

"It must be tough," she said in an offhand manner, "for a man -- especially a young man like you -- to have to go without when your wife is near the end of her pregnancy."

Jesus Christ! Was that an invitation? "Would you like me to help rub some of those red spots?" I asked while inwardly wondering where I had found the necessary courage to proposition her.

"That would be nice," she said. "I can't reach where the clasp was rubbing my back." She rolled over on her stomach. Relieved that she couldn't see my erection, I moved to the couch and sat gingerly on the edge against her hip.

The bra strap had left marks on her back. I gently began massaging those reddened places. It seems I'm always surprised by how soft and warm female skin is. Candi was no exception. The gentle rubbing soon expanded both in area and intensity, and I found myself massaging the muscles in her shoulders and neck, down her back to the edge of her cut-offs and back up her sides. My fingers briefly found the soft sides of her flattened breasts and moved on to her shoulders again. Again I worked down to her waist.

"Wait a minute," she said, "I didn't know you could give backrubs." She lifted her hips and unbuttoned the waist band of her shorts. "Don't pull them down too far," she cautioned, "but this feels so good, I want you to rub my lower back, too."

I slid my hands under her waistband and continued manipulating her muscles.

"Further down," she said in a muffled voice. Soon I had both hands strongly working her ass cheeks; first one side, then the other. Then I turned my attention to her thighs. She spread her legs to accommodate my hands, which by now were only a couple of inches below her pussy.

Suddenly, she stiffened. The muscles I had spent nearly an hour relaxing were knotted in spasms. Her whole body vibrated and shuddered. Abruptly she rolled over, and pulled me down, holding me in a tight embrace while she kissed my mouth. "God, that was good!" she said. "It's been so long since I had a good cum!"

Then she added, "Don't you think you're a little overdressed, too?" Now it was her turn to stare while I quickly undressed. My cock has never been longer or harder than it was at that moment. Candi reached out and gently wrapped her hand around it.

"It's so soft and hard and hot. It's been months since I've held a cock and never one as beautiful as yours." Then she added, "Come closer so I can play with it."

It had never occurred to me that someone might think a cock was beautiful. I tried to fit myself next to her on the couch, but there just wasn't enough room. "Let's go in here," I said, leading the way into our bedroom.

Candi followed me, and as I sat on the edge of the bed, she quickly wiggled out of her pants and panties. She struck a pose. "Like what you see?"

Candi was cheerleader pretty, with a youthful frame, and skin that was without blemish. she arched her back, the better to display her perky breasts. Then she leaned forward and hugged me, pulling my head tightly against her firm breasts. Then she stepped back and, straddling my legs, she sat on my knees facing me. She was a tall girl, so her head was well above mine. "You're the last one," she said before she leaned forward and pressed her wet open mouth against mine.