Stepbrother, Where Art Thou?

by Fukunishi, Aya

  The cop looked doubtful, given the fact that Ryan had a good six inches on Sophia, but she was obviously relieved to hand the problem to someone else. “OK, now you just keep him indoors, you hear? If I find him wandering the streets an hour from now I'll have no choice but to throw him in the drunk tank to sleep it off. Understand?”

  Sophia nodded, and stepped out from behind the door to take Ryan by the arm. “Thank you, officer, I really appreciate it. Sorry for the trouble.”

  “Don't worry about it, miss” replied the cop, a little more cheerfully now she'd handed over her burden. “You take care now.” She tipped her hat, turned and walked back to her patrol car as Sophia tried to lift Ryan's arm over her shoulder.

  “Ryan, come on, honey. Come on, sweetie, we gotta get you to bed.”

  Ryan stumbled along beside her back into the house, and once Sophia closed the door she whispered into his ear. “OK, honey, let's keep quiet, OK? You gotta try not to wake mom and dad. It's very, very late.” She wrapped a hand around his waist to steady him as they reached the staircase, and hated herself when she realized she was a little turned on by the feel of his muscles.

  “You're the best, Sophia,” bellowed Ryan, unaware of the volume of his voice.

  “No, honey,” she whispered in reply, “Remember, we have to be reeeeally quiet.”

  “Sorry,” he whispered, then repeated himself. “You're the best.” The alcohol on his breath hit her like a brick wall.

  “Thank you, sweetie. Now here we go, top of the stairs. Let's get you into bed.” She guided him down the hall, then struggled to open his bedroom door while keeping him upright. Eventually, after much fumbling, the door swung open and Ryan stumbled in ahead of her.

  Sophia looked back down the hallway and noticed a long line of dragged, smeared muddy shoe prints trailing back across the cream carpet to the staircase. She saw Ryan was about to climb into bed with his shoes still on, and rushed across the room to stop him.

  “No, honey you gotta take your shoes off first. You'll mess up the bed.” She pulled him up to the edge of the bed by his hands, and kneeled down by his feet to slip off his shoes. Ryan fell onto his back again, and stared at the ceiling as he struggled to unbutton his pants.

  “I think I'm a little messed up, Soph,” he slurred, as he slid his jeans halfway down his legs. He seemed to be unable to get them past the knees, so Sophia tugged at the legs until they slid off his feet.

  “No, honey, you're OK. Now why don't you have a nice long sleep. You'll feel much better in the morning,” she lied. In the morning she was pretty sure he'd wish he was dead.

  Sophia moved around to the side of the bed as Ryan pulled his shirt over his head. She tried to keep herself from checking out his body, but failed miserably. He may have been dead drunk and rocking back and forth, but he was still ridiculously hot. Sitting in nothing but a dark pair of boxers, his slender waist rising in a perfect V shape to broad, muscular shoulders, Sophia found herself thinking she'd give anything to be in his room under different circumstances.

  She gently pushed him back onto the mattress, and reached over him to pull his sheets across his body. “OK, honey, sleep tight. Everything will be fine in the morning.”

  As she turned towards the door Ryan reached out and took hold of her wrist, trying to pull himself up onto his elbow as he did. “Wait! Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, jus' wait.” His eyes drifted in and out of focus as he tried to meet her gaze. “Um, would you mind, um... would you mind staying just a little while, Soph? I don't want to be alone. Come on, you can lay down here. Jus' for a little while, OK?” He threw back the sheets and shuffled back to free up a spot beside him on the bed.

  Sophia could feel her cheeks burn up as Ryan drunkenly patted the mattress, inviting her in. “I... err... I don't think that's a good idea, sweetie. Why don't you try to go to sleep?”

  “Please?” he asked, arching his eyebrows into a pleading expression. “Just for a little while. Just until I fall asleep? I don't want to be alone tonight.”

  She knew it was a bad idea. Every inch of her knew that she should walk out the door, lock herself in her room, climb under the duvet and ride out the madness until morning. Nothing good could possibly come of sharing Ryan's bed, even though she knew nothing would happen. Of course nothing would happen. There wasn't even the slightest chance she'd give into temptation.

  A rebellious corner of her brain whispered to her: So what's the harm?

  What was the harm? The errant thought spread through her mind, quickly overwhelming whichever lobe of her brain housed her common sense. If she wasn't going to sleep with him, she tried to convince herself, there was nothing wrong with her sharing Ryan's bed. There was nothing illegal about it. There wasn't even anything immoral. It would just be two people keeping each other company. Two people sharing each other's warmth.

  It would be better than another night in her cold, lonely bed. Better than another night of staring at the wall, wishing it away.

  She heard her own voice speak without waiting for instructions from her brain. “OK, honey. Just for a little while.”

  This is fine, she told herself as she walked over to the open door. As she quietly pushed it closed the last bastion of her common sense asked in a quiet, shy whisper why she was closing the door. If it really is fine, it whispered, it wouldn't have to be a secret, right? It would be fine if mom saw this. Right?

  Shut up, brain.

  She flipped the light switch and tip-toed back towards the bed. In the pitch darkness she guided herself along the edge of the mattress, then climbed in slowly. She knew it was fucked up, but she couldn't help but feel a little thrill of excitement as she fumbled in the dark. Her hand brushed against skin and she drew it back quickly, as if she'd touched a hot stove. “Sorry.” she whispered.

  Ryan mumbled something unintelligible. He seemed to be already drifting towards sleep. Sophia carefully lay down and pulled the thin silk sheets across her, lying on her side and facing away from him, and carefully slid back towards his slumbering body as far as she dared. She stopped only when she felt her ass brush against Ryan's thigh.

  Even as she moved she knew she was playing a dangerous game. She knew she was trying to push this as far as it could go while maintaining plausible deniability. She knew she was trying to convince herself that she wasn't doing anything wrong, as if she could hold up her hands and profess innocence were her mom and Jack to suddenly burst into the room.

  She tucked an arm beneath her pillow and gripped the edge of the bed with her free hand, her eyes wide, staring forward into the darkness with every muscle in her body tensed. She wanted nothing more than to roll over, wrap her arms around Ryan and pull herself so tight against him that they were almost one body, but she knew that would be going too far. This is enough, she thought, even as she inched herself backwards ever more, a hair's breadth at a time. This is still innocent.

  After just a couple of minutes she heard Ryan's breathing settle into a deep, slow rhythm, and knew he'd fallen asleep. The mattress dipped as he shifted his body, and Sophia bit her lip as she felt him turn towards her. As he moved she shifted backwards just a little more, presenting her ass to him, and couldn't help but grin with illicit pleasure when she felt him line up his body with hers. His left arm slid over her shoulder, and in his sleep he pressed his manhood against the soft pink silk of Sophia's panties.

  Still innocent, she told herself. I'm not doing anything wrong. I'm just laying here.

  She closed her eyes, took a slow, deep breath and made a quiet lip smacking noise, trying to suggest to some imaginary audience that she herself was asleep. Surely she couldn't be blamed for anything that happened while she was unconscious, right? Even if her mom walked in she couldn't be held responsible for, say, taking Ryan's hand in hers as she slept. She reached towards his arm, slipped her fingers between Ryan's, and smiled as he squeezed lightly and drew his hand close in against her chest. She felt her nipples firm beneath her bra.

  Yea
h, this is fine, she assured herself.

  Her breath caught in her throat as she felt Ryan begin to swell beneath his boxer shorts. He was pressed firm against her ass, and as he grew he pressed ever tighter against the silk. Sophia closed her eyes tight, holding firm against him. She was careful not to press back hard against his body – that would be going too far, of course; that wouldn't be innocent – but made no move to shift away from him.

  Between her legs she could feel herself becoming wet. She could feel, as Ryan mumbled something in his sleep and pressed a little firmer against her, her pussy aching with need. Her breath became ragged and shallow as she thought about him; as she thought about the thin layer of fabric that was the only thing protecting her innocence, keeping him from slipping inside her. She knew it was the only thing keeping this illusion alive. That thin slip of silk, warm and moist from Sophia's juices, stretched taut as Ryan unconsciously pressed firmly against her, was the only thing that made this OK. If she just reached down and pushed the panties down her legs there would be nothing standing between her and Ryan. Nothing to prevent him from slipping inside her, spreading her wide and filling her up.

  Maybe he'd wake up as the firm, throbbing tip of his cock found her tight, moist, welcoming slit. Maybe, like her, he'd pretend to remain asleep, keeping up the charade even as he came inside her.

  Maybe he wouldn't. Maybe he'd wake to find her panties rolled down to her thighs, to find her pressing hard against him, inviting him in, and maybe it would be enough for the floodgates to burst. Maybe there would be no going back once he opened his eyes. No denying their lust. No escaping the truth. Maybe they'd just embrace it. To hell with what anyone thought of them.

  Suddenly Ryan snorted, deep in sleep. He moaned in her ear, squeezed her hand, and pulled away. Sophia turned over to face him as he moved, wishing he'd come back to her, and watched as he settled on his back, the sheet tented up around his enormous erect cock.

  Slowly, carefully, still pretending to be asleep, Sophia pulled back the thin sheet from Ryan's body. She froze as he flinched, waited a moment for him to settle again, then pulled it towards her until Ryan was exposed.

  His erection had popped through the gap in his boxers. Sophia lay beside him, her head lightly pressed against his shoulder, her eyes almost closed, just open enough for her to see the outline of his swollen penis in the darkness.

  She felt like she was floating above her body, and she found she had to keep reminding herself, repeating over and over in her mind: you're really here. This is really happening. The situation was just so absurd she couldn't quite believe it wasn't a vivid, lucid dream. She couldn't believe she was laying next to Ryan, feeling her own warm, moist breath bounce back to her from his shoulder, knowing that she could, if she dared, reach out and touch the hot, hard tip of Ryan's cock. If only she had the courage to reach out a hand. If only she could wake him. If only she could climb down his body, kissing his firm, tight muscles as she went, until her mouth reached –

  No, she told herself. No! This has gone far enough!

  Sophia moaned lightly, quietly, maddened by the temptation to reach our and touch him. It was too much, though. She knew that that would be the point of no return. She couldn't. She just couldn't.

  She rolled over, facing away from Ryan's naked body, and thrust a hand down between her legs. She had to do something to relieve the tension. She felt as if her body was electrified, and she knew there was only one way she could end the agony. It only needed a light touch. With two fingers she massaged herself over her panties, pressing the pads of her fingers into the silk against her slick, dripping clit, and whimpered as her body began to convulse. She closed her eyes, buried her face into her pillow to stifle her quiet moans as she slipped her fingers beneath the fabric, burying them as deep inside as she could, imagining they were Ryan.

  It was all over in just a few brief moments. Her orgasm thundered silently through her body, so powerful it took all of her concentration to stay quiet. When she was finished she slipped her fingers from her body, wiped herself clean against Ryan's bed sheets and closed her eyes, waiting for sleep to overtake her.

  *

  Sunlight streamed in through the window when Sophia awoke, groggy and confused, unsure for a moment just where she was. She opened her eyes to find her head resting against Ryan's chest, and her leg wrapped over his. For a moment she froze like a deer in headlights, then sprang backwards when her mind finally came into gear, so quickly she almost fell off the side of the bed.

  Last night this had felt... right. It had felt as if she was safe and protected by the night. As if everything was OK under the cloak of darkness. Now, with the room bathed in bright morning light, she realized just how... just how fucked up this was.

  Quietly, trying to move as slowly and silently as possible, Sophia crept out of the bed. If only she could make it to the door and back to her own room, maybe Ryan would have no memory of the night. Maybe he'd been drunk enough that he'd imagine it was all a dream.

  She stood, pressing a hand against the mattress, and winced as the bed springs creaked loudly. She turned around she saw Ryan's eyes snap open, and – without thinking – grabbed a handful of the silk duvet to cover her body. She pulled, and as the sheet slipped from Ryan's body she squealed to see that he was still hanging out of his boxers, his huge, thick cock resting lazily against his thigh.

  “Jesus!” he yelled, reaching down to cover himself.

  “Sorry! I didn't see anything! I didn't see anything!” Sophia threw the sheet back across Ryan's body and fled to the door, wishing the floor would open up and swallow her whole.

  “Wait!” Ryan cried out, struggling to jump out of bed, but Sophia was already through the door. She ran down the hallway, burst into her room and slammed the door behind her. She fell to the floor, sliding her back down the wall, and dropped her head to her hands. She'd never felt so embarrassed in her life. She could feel her cheeks burning so hot they could fry an egg.

  There was a knock on the door, and before she could reach up to slide across the bolt the door swung open and Ryan entered, wrapped from the waist down in his duvet.

  “Get out!” Sophia yelled, springing to her feet to grab her dressing gown. It suddenly seemed very important that Ryan not see her body. Everything about it just felt... dirty.

  Ryan shook his head. His eyes were bloodshot, and he was clearly suffering through his hangover. Sophia stormed towards him and pushed him back towards the door, but he pushed it closed before she could force him though it. “Wait!” he pleaded. “Just... Will you stop that?!” He grabbed Sophia by the wrist to stop her pushing him back. “Settle down!”

  He pulled her by the wrist over to the bed, and firmly but gently pushed her down to the mattress. Without releasing her wrist, as if he were afraid she'd flee, he sat beside her.

  “Last night, did we... you know?” he asked, his eyes filled with uncertainty and confusion.

  “No!” Sophia replied forcefully, more from embarrassment than anything.

  Ryan released her wrist and readjusted his duvet sarong. “Are you sure?”

  Sophia nodded. “Yes, I'm sure. You were wasted. You were brought home by a cop, and I just helped you get into bed.”

  Ryan's face was a mask of confusion. “So... I mean...” He frowned, trying to find the right words. “I don't understand. Why were you sleeping there?”

  “Because you asked me to, you idiot! I was trying to be nice!” Sophia yelled and hit the mattress with her fist. Her wireless mouse, sitting at the foot of the bed beside her laptop, shifted enough to activate the laptop's screen.

  The moment she saw Ryan she knew what he was looking at. The color drained from his face, and it seemed as if every muscle in his body tensed. “Why are you logged into my Facebook account?”

  Time seemed to grind to a halt as Sophia opened and closed her mouth, desperate to find some explanation that would get her out of this. Desperate to turn back time. Desperate to be anywhere but here.<
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  Ryan spoke quietly as the blood returned to his face. His cheeks reddened, and he couldn't look Sophia in the eye. “You saw my messages.” Not a question, but a statement. He already knew the answer.

  Tears filled Sophia's eyes. She bit her lip and nodded slowly. “I'm sorry,” she whispered, her voice cracking with emotion.

  Ryan seemed to be struggling to catch up with the world. It all just seemed too much for him. He stared at the laptop screen, then back to Sophia, and seemed as if he couldn't work out if he should be angry or embarrassed. Finally, after a painful silence, his expression shifted to... hopeful?

  “Um,” he muttered, pushing himself to speak despite his obvious fear. “What... what did you, um, what did you think of what I said?” His voice was barely a whisper, and his eyes were fixed on Sophia's lap rather than her eyes.