Natural Endurance

Day three in America and I'm officially losing the plot.

Steve's at campus doing coach things. Megan's at her book club which apparently happens every Wednesday and definitely isn't code for anything suspicious. Katie left at dawn for a run and hasn't come back yet, probably avoiding me after yesterday's forest shag made things weird.

I'm alone in the house eating leftover burgers for breakfast because jet lag's destroyed my understanding of mealtimes.

That's when she walks in.

Just opens the door like she lives here. Doesn't knock. Doesn't call out. Barefoot, carrying this massive box, wearing a vintage floral dress that's seen better days and has paint stains near the hem. Dark hair like Steve's but longer, messy. Tattoo on her shoulder that looks like a bird or maybe a fish.

Late thirties. Fit in that way arty women are when they don't try but somehow look better than women who do. The kind of woman who gets hotter with age. Christ, I'm developing a type here and it's not good for my life expectancy.

She sees me. Stops. Smiles.

"Well aren't you a pretty thing."

American accent but slower than Steve's. Softer.

"Er, hi."

"You're the British runner Steve won't shut up about." Sets the box down on the counter. "I'm Lily. The disappointing sister."

Comes over. Hugs me and holds it slightly too long.

"Dan. Nice to meet you."

"Mm-hmm." Steps back, looks me up and down. Not subtle about it. "Steve said runner, not underwear model."

I'm stood there in running shorts and a t-shirt feeling like I'm being assessed.

"Cheers."

She laughs. Goes to the fridge, pulls out a beer. 10am. Cracks it open.

"Want one?"

"Bit early for me."

"Suit yourself." Sits at the island. Feet up on the stool. Her dress rides up showing her thighs. She doesn't fix it. "So how you finding North Carolina? Steve being his usual controlling self?"

"He's been decent actually."

"Give it time." Drinks. "He'll start scheduling your eating and sleeping once he gets comfortable. That's what he does. Needs everything organised and under control."

Bite to her voice there.

"You two don't get along then?"

"We get on fine when he's not trying to fix me. Thinks everyone needs structure and discipline. I think life's too short to spend it running in circles." Looks at me. "Though you seem to enjoy the circles."

"Running's different."

"Is it? Seems like just another way to exhaust yourself so you don't have to think."

She's sharp. Sharper than I expected.

"Maybe."

"You're very honest for a twenty-one-year-old. I like that." Finishes the beer. "So who are you shagging in this house?"

Nearly choke on my own spit.

"What?"

"Come on Dan. I've known this family my whole life. Something's different. Megan's got this energy. Katie left earlier looking very satisfied with herself. And you're sitting here looking guilty." Leans forward. "So who is it? Katie? Please tell me it's not Steve."

"I'm not shagging anyone."

"Liar." Smiling now. "But that's okay. Your secret's safe. I don't care who you're sleeping with as long as everyone's consenting and no one's crying."

Stands up. Walks past me. Her hand brushes my shoulder.

"I'm staying a few days. Boyfriend turned out to be a jerk. Need somewhere to crash that isn't my studio." Opens the box, pulls out these ceramic bowls. "Made these for Megan's birthday. Steve will hate them. Too impractical."

I'm watching her move. Loose. Easy. Nothing like Steve's rigid coach bollocks.

"Where are you sleeping?"

"Guest room. Same floor as you." Glances back. "Why, you worried you'll be too loud?"

"Piss off."

She laughs. Properly. "See, that's better. The polite British thing is cute but it's not really you, is it?"

No idea how she's read me this fast.

"Apparently not."

"Good." Comes back over. Sits on the counter right in front of me. Legs dangling. Her dress has ridden up again and I can see she's not wearing a bra under it. "I like when people are honest about who they are. Makes life simpler."

My cock's starting to wake up.

"You always this direct?"

"Always. Spent too many years trying to be what other people wanted. Now I say what I think." Tilts her head. "You're getting hard aren't you?"

Jesus.

"No."

"Another lie. That's two. I'm keeping count." Gets down from the counter, stands close. "It's okay Dan. I'm flattered. You're twenty-one and I'm old enough to know better but young enough to not give a shit."

Her hand touches my chest. Light.

"This is a bad idea," I say, but I'm not moving away.

"The best ones usually are." Her other hand joins the first, moving down. "Tell me about the bad ideas you've already had here. Is it Megan? God I hope it's Megan. She deserves some fun after twenty years with my boring brother."

"Can't tell you that."

"Can't or won't?" Her hand's at the waistband of my shorts now. "Because your cock seems very interested in continuing this conversation."

She's right. I'm hard now and this is Steve's sister and I've already shagged his wife and daughter and apparently I've got some kind of death wish.

"Both."

"Mm." Her fingers slip under the elastic. Not far. "Here's what I think. I think you've been here three days and you've already slept with at least two people in this house. I think you're feeling guilty but also quite pleased with yourself. And I think right now you're wondering if you're really going to make it three."

Her hand goes lower.

"You should stop."

"Do you though?" Wraps her fingers round my cock through the fabric.

Right. We're doing this then. Grab her waist, lift her back onto the counter. She gasps, surprised, then laughs.

"There he is."

Kiss her. She kisses back immediately, tongue in my mouth, hands in my hair.

Not like Megan's desperate hunger. Not like Katie's confidence either. Lily's got all the time in the world and she's using it.

Pull back. "We really shouldn't."

"Probably not." Pulls me back. "Do it anyway."

My hands go up her thighs, dress riding up completely. She's wearing white cotton knickers.

"You're mental," I say against her mouth.

"And you're sleeping with your coach's wife or daughter. Or both? Who's really mental here?"

Can't argue with that.

Push my hand between her legs. She's soaked, can feel it through the cotton.

"Christ," she breathes. "How are you this good at this already?"

"Practice."

She laughs, cuts off into a moan when I press harder. Her hips rock against my hand and I'm thinking about Megan on the washing machine, Katie in the forest, now this, Steve's sister in his kitchen, and my brain's just completely given up trying to keep me alive.

"Steve's going to kill you when he finds out."

"Probably."

"Worth it?"

"Ask me after."

Pull her knickers to the side, push two fingers inside her and she's wet, so wet, tighter than Megan, nothing like Katie.

"Jesus Dan."

Start moving. Slow at first because I want to feel this, want to remember it, then faster when she rocks against me. Her head falls back, dress slipping off one shoulder showing her tit, nipple hard.

Put my mouth on it. She gasps, hand on the back of my head.

"Don't stop."

Wasn't planning to. Suck harder while my fingers work inside her and she tastes like salt and smells like paint and something floral I can't place.

"Cocky little bastard aren't you?"

"You started it."

"I'm going to finish it though." Pushes me back, hops down from the counter, yanks her dress over her head in one movement. White knickers. That's it.

"Your turn."

Strip my shirt. She's already pushing my shorts down, boxers with them. My cock springs up and she wraps her hand round it, strokes slowly.

"This what Megan and Katie have been enjoying?"

Can't answer. Can't think. Her hand and my cock and Steve's sister and I'm going to die here.

She drops to her knees.

Oh Christ.

Takes me in her mouth without hesitation. No teasing, straight down and I actually have to hold onto the counter because my legs have gone.

"Lily."

She pulls back, licks the head, looks up at me. "You taste good."

Then back down, taking me deeper. Her hand works what her mouth can't reach. The other cups my balls.

I'm not going to last. Three days of constant sex and apparently my cock thinks it's won the lottery. This is going to be embarrassing.

"I'm close," manage to say. Warning her.

She doesn't pull back. Those eyes on mine and she takes me deeper.

That does it. My hand in her hair, can't help it, thrust once and come straight down her throat. She swallows, keeps going until I'm done and my legs are shaking.

Comes off slowly. Licks her lips. Stands up.

"Good boy."

I'm leaning against the island trying to work out how breathing functions.

"You're incredible."

"You're welcome." Tugs her dress back on, reaches down, takes off her knickers. Still damp. Tosses them to me. "Keep those. Souvenir."

I catch them. Stare.

"What am I supposed to do with these?"

"Whatever you want. Imagination's a wonderful thing." Smiles. "Don't let Steve find them though. He'd have an aneurysm."

"You're serious."

"Always am about the important things." Picks up her beer bottle. "Now go shower before Steve gets home and wonders why you look like you've seen God."

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Don't you need those?"

"I like the idea of you having them. Feels like I've marked you."

Then she's gone.

Stand there. Her knickers are warm in my hand. White cotton. Can see the wet patch where I'd had my fingers.

Emma would absolutely piss herself laughing right now. "Dan you absolute muppet what are you doing."

Good question Emma. Wish I knew.

---

Later, after the shower, after Steve comes home and we talk about training schedules like I'm not holding his sister's knickers in my pocket, after dinner where Megan keeps giving me these knowing looks and Katie won't make eye contact, I'm alone in my room.

Pull them out. Still damp.

I know. Proper dirty bastard. But there's something about it. Lily walking around without them, knowing I've got them. Knowing what I'm going to do with them.

Wrap them round my cock. The fabric's soft, smells like her. Start stroking. Think about her on her knees. Her mouth. The way she looked up at me while swallowing.

Come into them harder than I probably should considering everything that's happened today.

Fold them after. Tuck them in my drawer under my running kit.

Three women. Same family. Three days.

My dad always said I lacked impulse control. He was right. Proved him right with Felicity Carter at his mate's garden party. Proved him right with Emma's flatmate after we'd broken up. Proving him right now in spectacular fashion.

Two and a half months left in America.

I'm either going to leave here the happiest man alive or in several pieces.

Possibly both.