(Part 01)
The Osborn’s and the Sherlock’s had lived in Childean for many generations and every year they had a family holiday in Spain together.
Peter and Kate Osborn and their sons Brian and Mark, Kate’s sister Christine Sherlock and husband David and their daughters Karen and Julie, all stayed in the Villa that was jointly owned by the two families every year in Moraira, just along the coast from Benidorm.
Mark Osborn was a twenty nine year old solicitor who still lived in the old family home in Childean.
His parents had recently retired to their Spanish Villa in Moraira and enjoying the Costa del Sol and his brother Brian was working for a magazine in New York.
Mark had spent a week in New York visiting his brother and when he arrived home to the Vale on a glorious summer’s day he was tired and weary.
The first thing he did was to open the French doors to let in some fresh air and then he made a long awaited cup of coffee and headed off to the bathroom for a much needed shower.
The shower was wonderful and he felt temporarily refreshed and invigorated so he threw on his toweling robe and went back to the kitchen for another coffee, and steaming coffee in hand he walked through to the lounge.
The room was dominated by a large L shaped leather sofa with a large square matching foot stool which was sitting in its default position i.e. in the right angle of the sofa.
The room was quite stuffy when he arrived home so he was grateful he’d had the presence of mind to open the French Doors to let in some fresh air.
But as the sun was full on that side of the house at that time of day he put his coffee down and walked across and drew the curtains to let the air in and keep the heat out.
Mark then sat on the sofa and almost immediately the long blinks began to set in and within minutes he was lying stretched out on the cool expanse of leather and a few minutes later he was fast asleep.
He had no idea how long he had slept but when he began to stir he was instantly aware that his little friend was stirring also.
Mark lay there for an indeterminate time drifting in and out of sleep with his mind full of vivid erotic dreams.
He dreamt he could feel fingers stroking his shaft and tugging and teasing it to full erection.
It felt so real and his cock was so hard, then he dreamt that he felt…, no not dreamt, he definitely felt the telltale feathering of a tongue flicking round his knob.
So he lifted his head off the sofa and he could see a figure in the gloom but he couldn’t tell whose lips and wet mouth had enveloped his helmet, he glanced down again but still couldn’t tell whose head was pleasuring his swollen cock.
But to be perfectly honest at that precise moment he didn’t really care whose mouth was around his prick and sucking him off.
(Part 02)
Waking up on a hot summer afternoon to find a Mystery Assailant performing on him was an unexpected delight and as he lay back and savored the pleasure, his blissful assailant in order to take him into her throat half climbed onto the sofa presenting him with her beautiful round arse well in striking distance of his hand.
Mark reached out a paw and groped up the skirt of the pleasuring stranger, caressing her round buttocks, though its firmness and fullness offered no clue as to its owner’s identity.
So while she slurped on his grateful member he slipped his fingers into the waistband of her knickers and yanked them down to her knees to expose the swollen lips of her shaven pussy which gave him pause.
Mark had never married, or even come close for that matter, but he had had no shortage of feminine company over the years.
So the fact that his assailant had a hairless minge narrowed the field a bit further but it was not conclusive and as a result he wasn’t going to hazard a guess at their identity as nothing kills the mood quite like getting your partners name wrong during the act.
So instead he probed her creamy wet pussy with his fingers and his probing managed to elicit moans of pleasure between the slurps on his shaft.
After a period of sustained fingering and without disengaging her mouth from his swollen member she wriggled her legs free of her panties and clambered onto Marks chest to present her hot ripe minge to his waiting mouth and at last he knew the identity of his oral assailant.
There was a heart shaped birthmark on his Cousin Karen’s pussy lip which revealed it.
Mark and his cousin Karen had been fuck buddies for ten years since the time they were on a family holiday in Spain when Mark Osborn, was a few weeks short of his nineteenth birthday popped his sixteen year old cousin Karen’s cherry.
He kissed the birthmark and nibbled the flesh of her labia making her moan and gasp.
"I love your pussy Karen" he said then noshed on her, slurping her cunny juice like nectar.
“It took you long enough” Karen responded and brought him to the brink of tipping his load time after time as she came once, twice then three times with her fanny farting in hoarse whispers.
Eventually Karen could wait no longer and jumped quickly off him and stripped off her remaining clothes because she knew he preferred to fuck her naked.
As he lay their watching her strip, his face covered in her juice, he thought.
“My God Karen you’re such a goer”
Mark was admiring her body as she climbed on him, especially her incredible tits, and then she was impaling her eager nonny on to his waiting shaft and began pumping on it like a piston.
Her tits jiggled uncontrollably as she thrashed about wildly moaning like a beast as she rode on him like a bucking bronco before she screamed out in orgasm and Mark exploded inside her, pumping hot spunk into her quivering quim.
Karen’s cunny spasms in time with the pulsing of each ejaculation of his cock and then they collapsed and slept where they had come to rest after their exertions with Mark’s cock still inside her cunny.
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