Zwilling - Sex Stories

Zwilling

... smell the wool of his sweater and felt herself becoming aroused again. Sven scraped at the bottom of the pot, loosening the cheese that had burned to it. He gathered some up on a piece of bread and offered it to her. She opened her mouth and he slipped it in gently. Her eyes were locked on his as she chewed slowly and swallowed. “You have a little on your lips,” he said. “May I?” “Oh no you don’t, brother!” Ivan said, leaning between them. “It’s my turn!” Before Heather could protest, Ivan lifted her face to hers and smiled and then gently ran his tongue over her lips, licking the crumbs of bread and cheese from them. He pulled away, her eyes still locked on his, her longing palpable. She was dying for him to kiss her. She was dying for either one of them to kiss her. Both of them? She tried to regain her composure. “Did you bring the wine?” “Of course,” Ivan said, smiling. He lifted the bottle and poured some for all of them, joining them again on the floor. “You were going to tell me your theories on why I...” She paused. “How did you put it?” “Hide yourself.” Ivan smiled. “Okay, what’s your theory?” she said, leaning back against Sven. “I’m all ears.” “Me too,” Sven smiled. She looked over her shoulder at him. She could have kissed him. She turned instead back to Ivan, satisfying herself with her back against Sven’s muscular form, the warmth of his body through his sweater and her own. “I think,” Ivan said. “That you developed your breasts early and that they were always ...

... large. You would have been awkward and I bet that the boys teased you mercilessly.” “They did,” she answered quietly. She felt Sven stroke her hair and then her cheek. “Boys can be so cruel,” Sven said gently. “Is this bothering you? Would you like him to shut up?” “He’s right so far,” Heather replied. She reached over to the table and took a sip of her wine. Her eyes rejoined Ivan’s. “You tried to hide them at first, but you were too well endowed. Later on, the boys found themselves attracted to you. Perhaps you overheard them talking, or perhaps a jealous girl said that they only liked you for your tits, but you’ve never gotten over the fact that you were never sure whether the boy who took your virginity liked you or just your breasts.” Sven’s hand was still running through her hair and down her cheek but would stray every few strokes and she would feel the back of it running down her neck and over the side of her breast. He did it in a manner that left her unsure whether he knew he was doing it. “And so,” Ivan continued, “When you are uncertain, you hide them. But there is no need for this. You are a beautiful and intelligent woman and you should always carry yourself proudly. Come, let us look at you.” He stood up and offered her his hand. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to leave the comfy nest she had made against Sven’s chest and, whether he meant to caress her breast or not, her hardened nipples showed she was enjoying it. She reluctantly took Ivan’s hand and let her ...