Second Chance Stepbrother

by Penny Wylder

  He fucks me hard, drives into me, as I slam my hips up into his on every thrust. He grabs my arms again, pins them over my head in one hand, his other hand cupping my breast, his fingers circling my nipple as he continues to fuck me. At the same time, he trails his mouth along my neck, down my collarbone, kissing me, sucking at my skin, unable to leave me alone.

  “I want every part of you,” he groans, and I thrust up against him in response.

  “Take me, Josh. I’m yours.”

  My head falls back against the grass as he keeps thrusting into me, faster, harder, until I lose track of anything but the feel of his body against mine, the hot slide of our skin, the tight grip of his hands. Pleasure starts to build deep in my belly, a rising tide of ecstasy that I won’t be able to hold back when it hits. I hook my ankles around him, grip his waist tight with my hips as I keep thrusting in time with him.

  He locks eyes with me, and I savor the expression on his face—the lost look in his eyes, the spill of red-hot lust that takes over any of his common sense. Neither of us can spare a thought for the outside world now. We’re lost in each other, in this moment, in the sensation.

  He angles his hips back, fucks me at an angle so that his cock drags along my front wall, his tip driving right along my G-spot with every thrust. It doesn’t take long for that to push me over the edge I was already climbing toward. I cry out faintly as the orgasm hits me, bowls me over. But he clamps his mouth to mine, swallows my cry with a kiss, and I shake beneath him, lost in the wave of pleasure as he keeps thrusting, harder now, faster, losing control as he nears his own peak.

  “Fuck. Pau… I’m going to come. I can’t... Fuck you feel so fucking good.”

  I do the same for him—pull him into a deep kiss as his orgasm hits. He slams into me one last time, deep inside me as he comes, and I kiss him so hard that his desperate groan won’t travel through the night air, won’t carry to any prying ears that might be listening. He moans into my mouth and I drink him in, our tongues entwined, as his cock spasms inside me. I tighten my pussy around him, and savor the jump of his cock, the proof of his pleasure.

  When we finally draw apart, we’re both breathless, eyes alight with ecstasy. He rolls onto his side next to me, and I curl up against him, naked in the still-warm summer evening air, splayed across the grass.

  “That was…” I can’t find the words to finish that sentence. I press a kiss to his chest instead, and run my hands across his abs to hug him against me instead.

  “I know.” He laughs softly and plants a kiss on the top of my head. Angles himself down to kiss my temple, the corner of my mouth. Then he leans back, and for a long moment, we just watch the sky overhead. The stars, the millions of them that you can only see this far out in the countryside. Stars that I haven’t watched since that summer out here with him because I’m always busy, always in the city. I haven’t done this—just laid in the grass and watched the sky—since that summer all those years ago.

  He must have read my mind, because after a long, quiet moment, he shifts beneath me and sighs. “This is nostalgic.”

  “I know,” I agree. I turn to look at him, but he’s watching the stars now too, his face awash in moonlight. “Back then…” I ask. My voice falters, fails.

  But he flashes a look at me, and I lick my lips. Find the courage to ask the question that’s been burning at the back of my mind ever since our walk to the grocery store earlier tonight, ever since he started flirting with me and I noticed.

  “Did you want me like this back then?”

  In the semi-dark, with only the moon and the stars for light, I can’t read the expression on his face. Can’t see the reflection in his eyes—they only look dark and bottomless out here in the night.

  Then he sits up, and gently untangles my arms from around him. “We should go inside,” he murmurs. “Before someone sees us.”

  He reaches past me for his shirt. Pulls it over his head, and then he’s up and getting dressed, before I can react.

  I try not to let the hurt or confusion show. Try not to think about what it means, about why he dodged that question or why he refuses to talk about our past here. Instead, I just pull my shirt on, shimmy back into my jeans, and trail after him into our shared cabin, where he closes the door on his bedroom and leaves me standing alone in the tiny excuse for a living room wondering what on earth is going through his mind.

  4

  The next morning, I wake up with an ache in my forehead. What did I do? I linger in my bedroom, listen to the sounds of voices out on the patio, the distant slam of screen doors and the patter of feet. I wait until I’m sure everyone is awake, Dad and Susan and Josh, so that I don’t accidentally run into Josh alone again.

  If I do, I don’t trust myself to stay in control. Clearly I cannot be trusted around him—my impulses just take over. So, fine, I’ll just have to spend all summer avoiding ever being alone with him. That will be fine. Totally doable.

  Right?

  I hear the clatter of plates in the distance, and figure it’s safe to sneak to the bathroom now. I tiptoe through the tiny cabin and slip into the single-stall bathroom that Josh and I will be sharing all summer. I turn the shower on cold, and try not to wonder whether both of us would fit in it (it would be cramped, but I think we could make it work, especially if I press up against the glass on one side, and he grips me from behind, bends me over and…). I cut myself off by plunging my head directly under the freezing cold stream.

  I managed to avoid him until I arrive at the breakfast table, and find the only open seat is right next to Josh, across from our parents, who have the newspapers spread out on the table, and have already tucked into their eggs.

  “Someone slept late this morning,” Dad comments, because normally I’m the first one out of bed. I got my early-bird nature from him.

  “Must still be tired from all the moving,” I say as I drop into the seat beside Josh. He quickly squeezes my knee under the table, and I plaster a wide smile on my face as I kick him for the trouble.

  He grins back, only seeming egged on by that kick. Sure enough, I’ve barely helped myself to a plate of scrambled eggs before his hand is back on my knee, inching a little higher up my thigh now. I ignore him, figuring if I don’t tease back, he’ll let up. I should’ve learned better by now. He’s insatiable, and he’s not about to let me get away this easily.

  He asks his mother if there’s anything interesting in the local news section, and politely nods along while she describes some local real estate battle or another, all while his hand continues to slide up my thigh, his fingers dropping between my legs, hot against my jeans. I can already feel myself starting to sweat, cold shower or no. Unbidden, memories of last night rise to my mind. The force of the orgasm that rocked through me, brought on by his tongue. The way he felt inside me, so thick and full that it almost hurt, but in the best way. If I clench my pussy, I can still feel the faint ache, the muscles strained where he fucked me.

  Fuck. I want him again. And I know it can’t happen.

  Can’t, but is. Because while Susan and my dad branch off into their own conversation now, talking about stocks or something that I don’t care enough to follow, Josh’s fingertips finally reach the spot where my legs meet my hips. He dips down to trace that crease, lets his fingertips slide across until he’s cupping my pussy through my jeans. His thumb circles over my clit through the thick fabric, and his fingertips squeeze against the lips of my pussy. I’m already getting wet, damn him. I shift in my seat, kick his foot again, but he catches my foot between his legs and squeezes with his calves. Pins me there while his thumb continues to work my clit slowly, lazily.

  I squirm against the seat, but he follows me the whole while, a smirk on his face as he listens to our parents’ conversation, even offers up a thought or two partway through.

  “What about you, Pau?” Dad asks, and I inhale sharply, because right at that moment, Josh decides to undo the clasp of my jeans.

  I squirm a little, gri
nning probably too widely at Dad. Thank god the table is high enough to conceal what’s going on below it. I hope.

  “What about me what?” I ask.

  He raises an eyebrow. “What are you planning to do this summer?”

  Fuck the hell out of my new step-brother, I think, then immediately tamp that down. Meanwhile, Josh has unzipped my jeans too, and he slowly works his fingers down the front of my panties.

  “Probably going to try and get back into swimming,” I say. “And…” I pause, swallow a gulp of air. Josh’s fingers have grazed bare skin, tracing my smooth mound, inching closer and closer to my clit. “I, I dunno. Catch up on reading.” I’m babbling now, only half aware of what I’m saying. “I don’t have a lot of time to read at school, so…”

  “How are classes going?” Susan butts in.

  I bite my lip to keep from inhaling again, when Josh’s forefinger circles my clit. He keeps going, slides past, until his whole hand is down the front of my jeans, and his fingers are spreading the lips of my pussy.

  I try to focus on what his mother just said, and pray that I don’t start shaking or sweating right here. “Classes are… good.”

  “You just finished junior year, right? Are you ready for senior year?”

  “Feels like…” I shake my head, then take a huge bite of my eggs to avoid having to talk for a second. Josh trails his fingers along my slit, back and forth, feeling the slick wet juices that have already built between my thighs. Then, without warning, he pushes one finger into me, curled, so it grazes along my front wall. “Um. Feels like it went… Very fast.”

  He adds a second finger, and I clench my fist around my fork to keep from moving or reacting. It’s near-impossible—I feel like I’m going to burst or cry out. But I manage to keep my head on straight and maintain a poker face. At least for now.

  “I know how that feels.” Susan laughs. “Seems like just yesterday that you both were out playing in that lake, still in high school… Now you’re almost ready to graduate college. It’s crazy, isn’t it, Josh?”

  “Crazy,” he agrees, catching my eye. Staring straight at me, while he continues to finger me under the table. He curves his fingers to drag across my G-spot, strokes them in and out in slow motions. His face gives nothing away. You’d only know he was up to something by the faint spark of mischief in his eye. “Time really does fly. And yet, with everything that changes, some things stay the same…”

  I clench my pussy around his fingers, my jaw tightly clamped so I don’t gasp at the same time. He just grins wider and adds his thumb now, circling over my clit.

  “Some things stay the same,” I agree, and I’m proud that my voice doesn’t waver this time. “Some things really do change, though.”

  Dad is glancing back and forth between us, his brow slightly furrowed. I look away from Josh just in time to avoid an inquisition, and reach across the table, leaning hard into Josh’s hand as I do, to grab a piece of toast.

  Josh takes my movement in turn, speeds up his thrusts, finger-fucking me faster now, and I lose track of the conversation once more, my hands fisted so tight around the toast that the edges turn to crumbs between my fingers.

  Fuck. I’m going to come. I’m going to come right here at the table, in full view of both our parents, the last people in the world who should know what’s going on beneath their noses.

  I take a huge gulp of orange juice that Susan poured for me. Use that as an excuse, and grab my napkin, pulling it to my face as I pretend to cough. Josh realizes what I’m doing and pushes his fingers deeper, harder, faster, his thumb stroking my clit with every thrust now. I keep coughing, or pretending to anyway, and Josh pats my back with his other hand as the orgasm finally hits, sweeps me away, makes my pussy muscles clench and spasm around his fingers.

  I drop my napkin onto the table and inhale hard, force a wide smile and nod in response to Dad and Susan both asking if I’m okay, frowning with concern. And all the while, I can feel Josh’s fingers inside me, stroking every last inch of pleasure from me.

  When he finally pulls them out, they come away in a rush, my pussy soaked now with lust.

  I glare sideways at him as he casually wipes his fingers on his napkin under the table, then picks up his fork and helps himself to another serving of eggs.

  It’s going to be a long, long summer.

  5

  A week after we finally started caving in to this addiction, Dad and Susan decide they want to host a party for the neighborhood. We don’t have too many neighbors, strictly speaking, but if you count all the cabins in this neck of the woods, you wind up with a pretty decent population. About 20 families all told, some of them with kids in tow, so that makes for an even larger get-together.

  Dad is cooking, Susan playing hostess, and I surprise myself by even recognizing some of the older couples. The neighbors I used to run into at the corner store or exploring the neighborhood with Josh.

  Mr. Johnson is there too, and he smiles and greets Josh and me by name. He’s the only one who doesn’t make some awkward comment.

  “Look how grown up you two are! And my, didn’t you both turn out handsome and lovely,” one of the neighbors I recognized, Mrs. Hamilton, points out. She even goes so far as to pinch Josh’s cheeks. “What a sweet thing, your parents getting together. You make a lovely family.”

  At that point, I have to excuse myself. I mumble an excuse about checking on Dad, but when I stumble past the fringes of the party, I skip right past the barbecue grill and keep on going.

  I make it about halfway up the path on the far side of the lake, into the woods, when I hear footsteps behind me, jogging to catch up.

  “You okay?”

  I hesitate. Turn around to find Josh following me.

  “I’m fine. Just a little weird seeing so many people, with… With our parents…” I gesture in the direction of the party.

  He casts a glance over his shoulder too, nodding. I know he understands the feeling. What it’s like to be seen as family, as siblings. “I gotta admit, it’s pretty strange.” When he turns back around to face me though, he’s smirking. “Sis.”

  I punch his shoulder. “Don’t you dare.”

  “What’s the matter?” He lifts his eyebrows, wiggles them. “Don’t like me reminding you that you’re my little step-sister?” He steps closer, lowers his voice. “Is that because you’re still thinking about the way my cock felt in your mouth last night?”

  My cheeks flare, red-hot. I glance over his shoulder too, instinctive. Making sure there’s no one close enough to hear, or to see how close we’re standing, or the way his hand drifts toward mine. Trails up my arm, from my wrist to the crook of my elbow, up over my bicep, until he’s cupping my cheek, and I’m leaning toward him, helpless against this pull between us.

  Luckily, there’s nobody else in sight. But we’re still visible, the party going full force in the distance.

  As if reading my mind, Josh catches my hand and tugs me after him, jogging up the path deeper into the forest. We walk until we’re well out of sight of the cabin, the yard, the party. Or anyone else, for that matter. We’re the only people in the world, and that’s just the way we like it.

  Josh’s lips collide with mine, desperate and hot. I run my hands through his hair, and he pulls mine a little, crushing me against him.

  But he’s right. I can’t stop thinking about last night, about the taste of his cock. He pulled me up to kiss him before I could get him to his climax, because he wanted to fuck me—and don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t protesting. But now, with the fresh adrenaline of his kiss pumping through me, I want a do-over. I want to lick and suck his cock, want to take him as deep into my mouth as I can, and make him lose control the way he’s so good at making me lose it.

  I break away from our kiss to catch his earlobe between my teeth instead. I bite down gently, just enough so he feels it, and grin as he shivers visibly. I keep going, nipping at his neck, the spot where his neck meets his shoulder, and I only pause to
pull his shirt over his head. Toss it aside, and then run my lips down his pecs. I flick his nipple with my tongue, and he laughs a little, though his hands tighten in my hair. Especially when I keep going, farther down, licking his abs, biting gently at his hip.

  He sucks in a breath of air between his teeth. “Paulina…”

  I glance up at him as I drop to my knees before him. “I want to taste you, Josh.” I undo his jeans, tug them.

  “You’re insatiable,” he says, but he’s grinning. I can see already the bulge in his jeans, straining against the fabric. I pull them down, let them drop to his ankles, and trace my hand over that bulge with only his boxers in my way now. He’s still growing harder under my fingertips, his cock tense and thickening with lust. But I keep my eyes on his for now, enjoying the way they darken, focus on me with an intensity that I’ve never seen anywhere else before.

  “What can I say? You make me thirsty.” I smirk, and with that, tug his boxers down to fall after his jeans.

  His cock springs free in all its glory. He’s hard as a rock now, thick and flushed from desire. His cock curves slightly upward, his tip glistening with a single drop of precum. I lean in, quick as a flash, and lick that first. As usual, he tastes amazing, better than I’d ever imagined a man could taste. He tastes just like he smells, salty and heady, a scent and flavor that goes straight to my animal brain. It makes me want more.

  I turn my head to lick along his length, slowly, first one side, then the other. Then I lick beneath him, along the top of his cock, teasing him, drawing this out. With every touch of my tongue he seems to breathe harder, his hands tense in my hair.

  But when I lean back to finally take him into my mouth, pull him between my lips, those hands clench on my hair, hold me in place.

  “Wait,” he says.

  I hold my breath, gaze up at him. Is he going to stop me again, pull me away, just when I’ve finally got him where I want him?