Ok, I'm trying to gage my curent turmoil is worth it. As all those who follow me are doubtlessly aware my current project is almst ready to be sent off for editing, and i just want to see if my alterations are worth it. Beneath is two segments, the first is what it was like after i finished th first draft, the second is how it lookes after a month and a bit of my alterations. Wold love to know what you think.
How Original. “Oh? Isn’t it?” She asked coyly, her smile turning playful as she cocked her head to the side and fixed him with a pondering stare. Then, with all the predatory grace of a lioness stalking a mouse, she shut the door and advanced towards the bed before snatching the photo from his grasp. Panicking, he tried to grab it back but the motion proved too difficult while still pressing the pillow to his person and instead he almost toppled to the floor while she raised the snapshot to look at it more closely.
It was indeed an old photo of her; one that had been taken two years before when she’d treated Mark to a week’s holiday in Cyprus, and showed her reclining back on a deserted stretch of sandy beach in nothing but a close fitting white Bikini with her skin glittering gold in the warm sun light. By its poor quality, she guessed it had been taken on a camera phone when she wasn’t looking. “Well, at least this means you’re no longer stealing my panties,” she said matter-of-factly. Mark’s face burned so red she wondered if he might cry through sheer embarrassment. Deciding to take pity on him, she casually threw the photo over her shoulder. “Now, little brother…” she shrugged her jacket off and let it fall around her feet before carefully stepping out of her boots; “do you remember what I told you the last time I caught jacking off while fantasying about me?”
As if hearing her for the first time, Mark slowly turned his sights up to meet her gaze, his big hazel eyes as wide and innocent, like a puppy begging for his ball. “If you need to cum,” she said in a low sensuous tone, “just ask.”
Her lips curling, she seized the pillow and tossed it aside before climbing up onto the bed, straddling his waist and, bending down to cover his skinny frame with her own, taking him in a firm kiss.
How Original. “Oh? Is it not?” She asked coyly, cocking her head to the side and fixing him with a pondering stare. There was a soft thump as the door swung closed behind her under its own momentum. “You know, I’d expected something less cliché from you. Though I have to admit, I’d also thought you would know, that, if you must sneak off in the middle of your own party to give yourself a treat, lock the bloody door!” Never taking her eyes off him, Mina reached back and turned the locking mechanism, the blot slamming into place with a reassuring click. Then, with all the predatory grace of a lioness stalking a mouse, she advanced towards the bed with deliberate slowness.
Mark looked down at his feet, a bright splash of colour staining his checks. Mina had to resist the urge to giggle; he was so cute when he was embarrassed. Coming to stand over him, she snatched the photo from his grasp. “What’s this?”
“It’s nothing! No! Give it back!” Panicking, he tried to grab it back but the motion proved too difficult while still pressing the pillow to his person and, instead, almost toppled to the floor. Smirking, his stepsister sidestepped his desperate lunge and raised the snapshot into the light.
It was indeed a photo of her; taken two years before when she’d treated Mark to a week’s holiday in Cyprus. It showed her reclining back on a deserted stretch of sandy beach in nothing but a white close fitting swimsuit, her skin glowing gold in the late afternoon sun and head tilted away from the camera towards the horizon. By its poor quality, she guessed it had been taken on a camera phone. “Well, at least this means you’re no longer stealing my panties,” she said matter-of-factly, causing Mark’s face to burn such a shade of red she wondered if he was about to cry with sheer embarrassment. Deciding to take pity on him, she casually threw the photo over her shoulder.
“Now, little brother…” she shrugged off her jacket and let it fall around her feet before carefully stepping out of her boots; “do you remember what I said the last time I walked in on you?” Slowly, ever so slowly, Mark looked up from his feet to meet her gaze, his eyes wide and questioning, and there was something else, hope. There was hope there, but also uncertainty, as though he didn’t dare believe his own ears for fear that it was all too good to be true. Mina understood his hesitancy. After all, they’d agreed, they had both agreed never again, but dammit she didn’t care. She wanted him; wanted him as she had never wanted any man before.
Holding his gaze, Mina slowly sat beside him on the edge of the bed. Reaching out to place a delicate hand upon his knee, she could barely rein in her victorious grin. The touch was light, gentle, almost cautious, but even so, Mark’s back went as stiff as a board. Hard muscles rippled beneath warm hairless skin, tensing at her touch. Pretending not to notice the way his eyes glanced downwards, watching her hand as though it were a venomous insect, she innocently tilted her head.
Keeping her movements soft and slow, so tortuously slow, she slid the offending hand higher. His flesh was hot against her fingers, the muscles beneath harder than she had expected, and, as she moved higher up his thigh, she could feel the tension amassing. A playful smile pulled at the corner of her lips.
“But what about…” His jaw was tight and what was left of his voice in that choked squeak gave out when her hand paused just below the pillow. Still endeavouring to resist her, however, his hand began to shake, the knuckles turning bone-white as he pressed the pillow firmly to his groin. Her smile growing ever more coy, she raised her palm and swept her fingertips over his skin, drawing swirling feather-light patterns over the skin of his inner-thigh, just skirting the boundary of the pillow.
“If you want me to make you cum,” she pivoted, swinging a long, perfectly toned leg across his waist, baring escape and bringing them nose to nose. Leaning forward, her nose mimicking the motions of the hand upon his thigh, sketching an intricate weaving web across his flushed cheek as her lips came within a hair’s breadth of his ear. She could feel his breath quickening, growing short and frayed, the warmth of each washing over her neck and sending tingling sensations shooting down her spin to the wet heat pulsing between her thighs. In a voice low and sultry, threaded with promise, she whispered, “Just ask.”
When she drew back, the look in his eyes made her feel like a cat toying with a mouse, glorying in the sweet ambrosia of holding such power over another living creature, just before it pounced.
“Mina…” Mark gulped, his tongue darting out to sweep across his lips. “We shouldn...” Swooping down, his step-sister promptly silenced him.