Second Chance Stepbrother

by Penny Wylder

  “Are you a bad girl, Pau?” he murmurs, those hot eyes still on my body.

  I shake my hips again, just a little, wriggling my butt in his direction. “Very, Josh.”

  “What have you done that’s so naughty?” He massages my ass now, both hands on my cheeks, spreading them, gripping them tight enough that I know he’ll leave marks in the morning. I don’t care. I love it.

  I lean back against him, and catch his eye in the glass. “For one thing, I’m fucking my step-brother.”

  He laughs, low and dark against the nape of my neck. His teeth nip at my skin there, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make the hairs stand up. “That does sound very naughty of you. That step-brother of yours is going to have to give you a spanking.”

  “Oh no,” I gasp, though my pretend-fearful voice isn’t very convincing.

  Josh chuckles again, and then gently bends me forward, until my chest is pressed against the glass, my head turned sideways to watch him. He pulls my hips back, positions me so I’m bent almost in half in the shower, and then runs just one hand over my ass, light, caressing.

  Without warning, he whips that hand back and brings it across my ass in a hard slap, just on one cheek. I gasp and jump against the shower wall, the sting racing through my body like a jolt. But I love it, the contrast of the hot water and his smooth skin as he caresses the spot he just slapped.

  “Does my naughty little step-sister want more?” he asks, eyes dark with desire.

  I meet his gaze, breathe in sharply, the thick, heavy mist of the shower tight in my throat. “Yes, please,” I whisper.

  He slaps me again, on the other cheek this time, and my gasp is louder this time. Almost too loud. We both pause, check the door by habit. But all’s quiet outside the shower. It’s just the rush of the water and us alone in here.

  Josh slaps me again, and I moan with pleasure and pain, mingled together into the best possible blend.

  Just when it’s starting to sting too much, to cross the threshold from pleasure to pain, Josh backs off to stand behind me, letting the hot water rush over the red skin now, his hands gently massaging my aching ass. My eyes flutter closed at the sensation, and I breathe out a faint sigh of pleasure.

  “Don’t you go getting too relaxed,” he admonishes, and I straighten a little. But he catches me halfway up, keeps me bent over, and positions himself behind me. His hard cock brushes along the backs of my thighs. Before things progress any further, he opens the shower door and gets me to reach into the medicine cabinet. I pass him a condom, and then he pulls me straight back under the warm water, bent over under the stream as he unrolls it along himself.

  At the same time, he slides one hand between my legs. Reaches up to stroke one finger along my slit, already wet from his spanking. “Somebody enjoyed that punishment a little too much,” he murmurs, and I grin over my shoulder at him.

  “Not my fault you’re so good with your hands,” I point out, and he smirks. As if to demonstrate, he spreads my lips with two fingers and circles a third right at my entrance, teasing. Toying with me.

  He pushes one finger into me, slowly, and at the same time runs his other hand along my chest, rolling my nipple between his fingers, squeezing just hard enough to make me gasp. My nipple hardens under his fingers, and he pushes another finger into my pussy, thrusting back and forth with that hand, and massaging my breast with the other in sync. The combined sensations make me lose focus on him, lose focus on anything but his touch, the pleasure that spikes through me from every movement.

  I’m only just starting to rock with him, in time with his finger as he spears my pussy, when he suddenly pulls out. I groan in protest and thrust my ass back toward him, but he spanks me again lightly to stop me in my tracks. I glare over my shoulder, while he grins back, and positions himself behind my ass.

  “If you want, I can just keep fingering you,” he says, eyes on mine. “But I thought you would prefer to be fucked properly.”

  In response, I reach behind me to grip the base of his cock. The condom is already on, but I squeeze my hand tight around him, run along his length anyway, to make sure he knows what my answer is. I spread my legs a little and pull him toward my entrance, and he laughs.

  “That’s what I thought. Though it’s hotter to hear you say it.”

  “Fuck me, Josh.”

  His smirk widens. “Is that how you beg, naughty girl?”

  “Please fuck me.” My voice goes breathy with desire.

  “Oh, so you want me to fuck you, is that it?” He trails his cock along my slit, and a shiver races down my spine.

  “Yes, fuck.” I grit my teeth and plant my palms against the glass wall. “I mean, fuck yes.”

  He laughs again. “Your wish is my command.”

  When he thrusts into me this time, it’s hard and fast, a thrust so deep it makes me groan as his cock stretches and fills my pussy. I never get tired of that sensation, feeling him inside me, knowing he’s claiming me for his own. The cool glass of the shower wall contrasts with the heat of the water pounding over us, and his body against mine, his hot cock buried deep inside me. I clench my pussy around him as he pulls out, grin over my shoulder, enjoying the way his mouth parts and his eyes go dark with lust.

  I love watching him fuck me, watching how much I turn him on. It sends a thrill throughout my whole body, to know he wants me every bit as much as I want him.

  “Fuck, you are gorgeous, Paulina.” He runs his hands through my wet hair. Pulls it aside, then winds the hair around his fist, drawing my head back slightly so my neck arches, and my breasts press flat against the glass wall, nipples hard against the glass. When he thrusts into me again, I rock with the motion, back against him, driving my hips into his.

  He keeps that one hand buried in my hair, and wraps his other around my hip, hard, pinning me in place as he starts to build up momentum, to fuck me in earnest.

  “God you are so fucking tight,” he hisses through gritted teeth, and in response, I arc my hips to angle toward him, so he can thrust deeper, his cock dragging along my walls with each thrust.

  “Fuck, Josh…” My eyes fall shut. But he stops thrusting, and a tense, frustrated sound emerges from my throat.

  “Turn around,” he says, as he pulls out of me.

  I spin toward him, impatient. He must be too, because before I’m even fully facing him, he’s lifting me off the ground, hands gripping my ass as he pins me against the shower wall. He maneuvers my hips, positions me right above his cock, and I reach down between us to guide him back into my pussy. At this angle, he can’t help but hit my G-spot, with my legs wrapped around his waist and his hands still spreading my ass and my back arched against the glass wall.

  I let my head fall back against the wall too, buck against him as he fucks me harder, faster. With every thrust, I’m pushed closer to the brink, until all I can perceive is him—he’s all I see, all I feel, all I can hear or smell or taste. He catches me in a kiss, tongue hot and invasive, twining around mine as he fucks me until we’re both gasping, gripping each other with strong fingers, desperate.

  “Josh… I’m going to come,” I gasp against his mouth, and he lifts my hips up, angles me against him so he can thrust even faster now, in response. His eyes catch mine, a smile on his mouth.

  “Come for me, Pau. I love watching you come.”

  I keep my eyes locked on his as I cry out, the orgasm sweeping through me. I cry a little too loudly, I realize, but his lips crash into mine halfway through it, muffling the sound as my pussy spasms around him, my body rocking from the high. He keeps thrusting into me, not relenting, and slides a hand between us as he does. His thumb finds my clit, circles around it, not quite touching, just putting on enough pressure to send me quickly rocketing toward a second climax.

  A knock sounds at the door. We both freeze, eyes wide. Josh keeps thumbing my clit, though, slowly, no mercy in his eyes.

  “Paulina?”

  Shit. It’s my dad. I panic, tighten around Josh,
and his mouth parts in a silent gasp as I do.

  “In the shower, Dad,” I shout. I barely manage to keep my voice from trembling.

  “Oh, okay. Sorry. Breakfast is ready, have you seen Josh?”

  Sure, he has his cock inside me and he’s currently fingering me so hard I’m about to explode. I shut my eyes and grit my teeth. Josh must take that as encouragement, because he keeps his thumb circling down, harder.

  “Nope,” I manage, and my voice only shakes slightly.

  “Okay. See you soon.”

  Before Dad can even walk away, the orgasm hits. I dig my hands into Josh’s shoulders, bury my face in his chest to stifle the faint, desperate moan that escapes.

  “Paulina,” he hisses, and I look up to find him staring at me. “I’m going to come.”

  I press my lips to his to swallow the sound, and he groans against my lips as he finishes, hands digging into my ass. We wrap our arms around one another, hold on tight, and for a long moment, neither of us moves, even to lower me to the ground. I love the moments like these, when we’re both vulnerable, both just finished, and we know how mad we drive one another.

  He sets me down on my feet gently, and reaches for the soap in the shower caddy. Without a word, he kisses my lips again, then starts to slowly lather up my skin.

  “That was…”

  “Amazing,” he finishes.

  I narrow my eyes at him. “Close.”

  “That too.” He’s grinning like we just got away with something. And we did, I know. But it still sets off an unpleasant sensation in my belly.

  I let him wash my whole body, from my neck all the way down to my toes, and then we trade places so I can do the same for him, running my hands over every inch of his perfectly sculpted body.

  Then we have to slip out of shower one after the other, slowly, sneakily, and it makes the high I just felt sink down into a low again.

  This is all we’ll ever have. Stolen moments like this, clandestine secrets. We can never just be together, openly and easily together. It makes my chest ache, and a knot grow in the pit of my stomach.

  When I cross outside to meet him at breakfast, sit next to him as always and brush our feet together under the table, it only makes me feel worse.

  I want him, and I’ll never be able to have him. Not in any way that counts.

  7

  It’s our last week. Time always flies when you least want it to, when you most want the clock to keep ticking on forever. I try to ignore the pressure in my lungs, the sense of the summer dwindling before us.

  Instead, we go for a swim in the lake. Our parents sit on the dock drinking margaritas and playing cards, joking and laughing. We swim out to the middle of the lake, where it’s deep enough that it reaches my shoulders, but we can still both stand. Our parents seem involved in their conversation, pretty distracted, and for once, Josh seems it too. So I take advantage.

  I take a deep breath of air and dive under the water. Catch his boxers and tug them down. His hands grab at me, panicked, until he realizes what I’m doing. Then he lets me take over, hands wrapped through my hair as I gently stroke his cock.

  I pop back up for another deep breath, and this time, when I descend, I keep going until I’m face-to-face with his cock. I keep my breath held tight and lick along his length, twirling my tongue around his tip. It takes me a few moments, and one more break for another breath, but I figure out how to part my lips and take him into my mouth. I clamp my lips around him, rock in the water, and his body goes tense against me, hands clamped in my hair with pleasure as he slowly rocks in time with me.

  But of course, I can’t hold my breath forever. Just when he’s starting to rock faster, get into the motion, I run out of breath, and I kick away from him, swim to the surface and break through it with a gasp, grinning at him.

  Our parents are still oblivious, chatting away on the docks a dozen yards away.

  Josh swims up to me and wraps his arms around me under the water, inconspicuous enough that it will just look like we’re wrestling, if someone sees. We’re both laughing, though I am keenly aware of his hard cock, still bare, now pressed against my ass under the water.

  “You used to be able to hold your breath a lot longer than that,” he murmurs into my hair, smirking as he kisses the nape of my neck quickly, fast enough that no one will notice. “Last time we were here, you could swim the whole length of the lake without taking a breath, remember?”

  I tense against him. Because of course I remember—I remember every moment of that summer. He’s the one who never seems to. Who never talks about it, never even hints that we have a past. Even when I dance up to the subject, he avoids it, dodges any mention of what happened all those years ago.

  Now it’s me who wants to dodge it, because what he just said brings up all kinds of unpleasant memories. I remember the months after that summer, all that time I spent wishing he’d reach out, wishing he’d write or call or even just explain what went wrong. Why he didn’t want to talk to me anymore.

  I squirm out of his grip and swim across the lake, toward the distant dock and the canoes we fucked in at least a dozen times this summer. It’s not far enough away—right now, for once, I wish I could disappear from this lake altogether. But it will have to be far enough for now.

  I pull myself onto the dock and wrap my arms around my knees, huddled there. Across the water, our parents are standing, Dad with the margarita glasses in hand, Susan picking up the card game they were playing. They’re probably going to refill their drinks, or maybe make some dinner. Dad’s gotten really into campfire cooking, and Susan plays his assistant, keeping the fire stoked, chatting with him while he cooks.

  I watch them walk away, and my heart sinks even lower in my chest. Because I know they’re a good match. They have the same sense of humor, like all the same things. I know Dad is happy, finally, and I can’t take that from him. No matter how much it kills me to let go of what I really want.

  Josh pads along the dock behind me. I should’ve known he wouldn’t let me just run away.

  I feel him more than see him sit down beside me, his swimming trunks back on. For once, the sight of his glistening wet, muscular body doesn’t distract me. Not enough to pull me out of this funk.

  I rest my chin on my knees and gaze across the lake, lost in thought.

  “You okay?” he finally ventures, after a long, fraught silence.

  “Not really,” I admit.

  He touches my shoulder gently, but when I don’t react, he lets his hand drop. “What’s wrong?”

  “This is.” I gesture between us. Keeping my eyes fixed on the cabin, on our parents’ home. “All of this. It’s wrong, and it’s weird, and it makes me worry I’ll hurt my dad, and it’s messing with me, because…” I shake my head. Rest my forehead on my knees instead so he won’t see the way my eyes glisten with unshed tears. “Because this is what I wanted all those years ago. When we were younger. I wanted to have this with you, and I never thought we would, and now, suddenly, we do, but as soon as this summer ends, we’ll have to stop, we’ll have to go back to being… Family, I guess.” The word sticks in my throat, tastes all wrong. “I just… I don’t understand why we never did this all those years ago. Back when it was still possible. Back when we had all the time in the world, and this could’ve been something.” I inhale deeply. Make myself lift my head and face him. I need to look into his eyes when I say this. I need to know his answer. “Why did you run?” I whisper, eyes locked on his. “After I kissed you, you vanished. I never heard from you again. Why?”

  He looks back at me, silent. There’s a sharp look in his eye, a thoughtful one, like he’s considering what I’m saying. But he doesn’t reply. He doesn’t say anything, and after a long, terrible moment, I realize I can’t wait around for him anymore. I can’t wait to hear this reply. What could it possibly fix now, anyway? What does it matter?

  I push myself to my feet.

  Josh catches my hand. Winds his fingers through mine, unt
il I finally give up and sink cross-legged back onto the dock beside him.

  “Pau…” To my surprise, I notice his eyes seem over-bright too. There are unshed tears in his eyes too, feelings he’s trying to suppress. But what?

  “I knew about the move,” he finally says, and it’s not what I was expecting to hear. It’s so confusing that I blink a few times and tilt my head to one side, brow furrowed as I wait for him to continue. “Mom’s new job,” he adds. “The one she got in Georgia. I knew going into that summer that it would be the last time our families would get together, maybe ever. I tried to fight what I felt for you, but the more we hung out that summer, the more time we spent together, the harder it got… I was going to just leave without every admitting it, without ever finding out if you felt the same. But then, that last night, you kissed me, and I realized you were feeling just as much as I was.” He pauses, his voice going low and fraught with emotion. He clears his throat once, hard. “Resisting was easy until… Until that. Until you kissed me. You were my first kiss, Paulina, and…” He closes his eyes. “I knew if I saw you again after that, if I had to say goodbye, I’d break in two. I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t say goodbye to you, and I knew a relationship could never work with me leaving, so I figured… I figured just vanishing would be easier. I figured that way you’d move on faster, forget all about me, and we could both just… go our separate ways.”

  “I never did,” I say, my voice hard. “I never forgot you.”

  “I know.” His hand tightens around mine. “I never forgot you either, Pau. I know this is a shitty situation, and it’s messed-up, and maybe you’re right, maybe it’s too late, maybe we can’t make this work, but… I have to try. I have to make up for lost time. I was a coward back then, I ran away, and I refuse to run again. Even if…” He bites his lip.

  “Even if what?” I ask, angry now. “Even if it ruins our parents’ lives? Even if we screw up their one chance at happiness?”

  “That’s not—”

  “Or maybe it’s just easier now because you know we can never have anything real,” I point out. “Just like last time. We were just teenagers, it was just a summer fling. So is this. It can’t ever be more.”