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She didn't seem to be about either. He frowned slightly. Well, maybe she'd gone over to Missy's house. He knew his Daddy wouldn't like it if he found out Melanie was traipsing around without his permission.Jarvis decided that he needed a shower. He tossed off his jacket and began unbuttoning his shirt as he mounted the stairs. He drew his shirt off, flexing his tired, sweaty muscles, and strode down the corridor toward the bathroom. On the way, he had to pass his sister's bedroom.Jarvis might have walked right on by if he hadn't heard soft cries emerging from behind the partially opened door. Raising his eyebrows in surprise, he immediately stopped in his tracks and pushed the door open, not thinking that he was intruding on a private scene. What he saw made Jarvis' jaw drop and his green eyes smolder with unexpected passion.His gorgeous sixteen year old sister lay sprawled on her bed stark naked, her legs spread wantonly apart, her hips lewdly bucking back and forth while her. David held my arms firmly, preventing me from pushing him away.“Come on Eric, it’s not gay if you don’t do anything, just imagine you’re being raped, because technically you wouldn’t be doing it out of your own free will in that situation” he said in a convincing tone.He had a point, I couldn’t just let him do it, and besides my cock was craving his muscular ass for a while now. I lowered my hand as David placed the tip of my cock on his asshole. Slowly he began to lower himself onto my cock, he was tight, but not as tight as Brent. I moaned in pleasure as did he when he began to ride my cock. Surprisingly he was going up and down my shaft rapidly, his moans echoed through the room, I loved knowing I was bringing him so much pleasure. His cock was slapping against my abdomen, and I really couldn’t comprehend why, but I loved feeling and seeing his cock slap against me.After a while, I could feel my cock begin to throb inside his warm tight ass, and as it did, my mind went blank yet.
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Once she was done, she picked up her handbag and made her way onto the street to begin her short walk home. It had been a tiring day, in more ways than one. First, she had had a new project dumped on her, to add to it, she had covered for a colleague of hers who was away on vacation. Then, when the work began thinning a little, she had been called to the CEO, Chris Quentin’s, office, she where she was told in no uncertain terms that her work quality was slipping. It appeared that she was not putting in appropriate effort on the current project. ‘Well, if you had more of an interest in what your other employees were doing, we wouldn’t be having this conversation,’ she had remembered thinking, aching to tell him that the only reason her quality of work was ‘slipping’ was because she was over-worked and doing an amount of work that usually required two, or more, people. Despite her desires to speak her mind, she held her tongue. She knew if she didn’t it would have cost her the job. .

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