Stepbrothers Stepping Out
With His Professor
Delilah Devlin
Copyright © 2015 Delilah Devlin
Kindle Edition
When a stripper confronts a professor about her stepbrother’s grade, she’s determined to find a way to change his mind. Making the grade has never been sexier…
Note: This original 9400-word novelette may be short in length, but it’s not short in passion!
Check out another sexy stepbrother erotic romance:
Stepbrothers Stepping Out: With His Partner
Stepbrothers Stepping Out: With His Boss
For more short stories by Delilah Devlin, check out:
Big Brass Buckle
Catnip
Dr. Mullaley’s Cure
Dreaming by the Sea
Drive Me Crazy
Johnny Blaze
How to Train Your Skjaldmaer
Lily’s Last Stand
Love in Bloom
Night at the Wax Museum
Nip-n-Tuck
One Track Cowboy
Pitch Black
Red Dawn
Tailgating at the Cedar Inn
The Morning Ride
The Obedient Wife
The Long Ride Home
The Pleasure in Surrender
The Runaway Bride
Two Hot
If you love vampires, werewolves, and things that go bump in the night, check out her NIGHT FALL series:
Silent is the Knight
Sm{B}itten
Truly, Madly…Deadly
Knight in Transition
Wolf in Plain Sight
Knight Edition
Night Fall on Dark Mountain
And if you love Navy SEALs, be sure to read the excerpt at the end of this story!
From the Author
To those of you who’ve read me before—hello, friends! To new readers, welcome to my world!
As you’ll discover, I tend to bounce around in different genres, from contemporary to historical to paranormal to sci-fi—all are very sexy, so be warned. I also write in many lengths from short story to full-length novel. If you can’t tell, I love to write. And when a story is fast, it’s short. If my characters need more pages, well, you get the picture. I’m a slave to my muses (I have three—or so three different psychics have told me!).
I love hearing from readers and have a very active blog and Facebook friend page. I run contests, talk about my favorite TV shows, what I collect, what drives me crazy. I ramble a bit. I’m doing it right now. But if you’d like to learn more about me and what I’m doing or writing about, be sure to check out the “About Delilah Devlin” page after the story.
And if you enjoy this story, please consider leaving a review on your favorite retail site or simply tell a friend. Readers do influence other readers. We have to trust someone to tell us whether we’ll have fun when we open a new story!
Sincerely,
Delilah Devlin
Visit www.DelilahDevlin.com for more titles and release dates, and subscribe to Delilah’s newsletter at newsletter.
Table of Contents
Title Page
About the Book
From the Author
Stepbrothers Stepping Out: With His Professor
About Delilah Devlin
Excerpt from Dream of Me
Stepbrothers Stepping Out:
With His Professor
‡
With my brother Darien’s paper crushed in my hand, I marched down the dimly lit hallway of the English Department, heedless of the fact I hadn’t changed after work. My four-inch heels clicked on the tiled floor like mini hammers.
From the moment he’d sat across from me in the club, his shoulders slumping and his expression dejected, I’d been alerted something was seriously wrong. Darien hadn’t wanted to worry me. Didn’t I have enough on my shoulders, supporting us both while he finished his degree? When I’d finally wormed the source of his distress out of him, I’d seen red.
I’d stared at the paper—recognizing the terse handwriting telling my brother that his work wasn’t good enough. The 57 points the professor had given him meant my brother would have to repeat the class, which he’d needed to pass because it was a prerequisite for another. And now, his graduation date was at risk.
Not without a fight. And since Darien was the quiet one, it was up to me to confront Professor Allcock.
“Don’t you want to change first?” my brother had asked, eyeing my costume.
“Does he still stay in his office until nine to see students?”
“Yes, but—”
“It’s eight-fifteen. No fucking time left for me to change.” I slid across the vinyl seat and reached for my furry coat. It only reached to the top of my hips, but the skirt of this particular costume at least covered my ass. “Can you walk home?”
He slid the keys across the table. “I should go with you.”
“You have a chem test to study for.” I bent and gave him a quick kiss on the mouth. “Dare, I’ve got this.”
I’ve got this. The adrenaline that had fueled my drive here fizzled. My steps slowed. I glanced up and down the hallway, then reached for the hem that peeked from beneath my coat and tugged it lower.
Good lord, I was walking into his office wearing pasties and a tear-away skirt. Standing in front of his door, I paused. The smells were the same—floor wax, polish, old books. His door was exactly the same thick wooden door. I’d spent several sessions in his office during my very short college career, begging for second chances, for him not to give me a bad grade because my dad would kill me.
I’d even opened my blouse, thinking I might be able to bribe him with a peek…or more.
Would he even remember? As handsome as he was, he probably had more coeds flashing their tits and asses than a construction worker on payday in a tittie bar—which was where I now worked. And I was the one flashing the dude with concrete dust in his hair and grime beneath his nails, hoping he’d ask me for a lap dance because I needed the money.
My hands fell to my sides. What could I say that would change his mind? Back when I’d been the student, unbuttoning my blouse had only gotten me shoved out his door with a stern reprimand. I glanced down at the paper I held again. I wasn’t here to beg for me. I was here to beg for my brother, for our future.
I raised my hand, preparing to knock when the door swung open. Caught by surprise, I blinked and stepped backward. The young man coming out of the door gaped at me, his gaze sweeping the expanse of my legs, my overly made up face. “Professor, you have another…student?”
I edged around him, getting through the door, then held the knob, waiting for him to move out of the doorway. At last, he shook himself and grinned. “Delta Zeta, right? Damn, girl. I’ll see you at the kegger.”
I took a deep breath and slowly turned to face Professor Allcock. I’d hoped he’d gone bald. Grown a gut. My heart fluttered in my chest as I stared across at the man I’d crushed on when I’d been a student here.
“Can I help you?” he asked in his deliberate way—softly spoken, but clearly enunciated. I’d always wondered if he’d commanded his women to bend over and take it in exactly that tone of voice.
I took a deep breath and raised the hand that still clutched Darien’s paper. “I’ve come to talk to you about this,” I said, my voice sounding uncertain, even to me. Which pissed me off. I tilted up my chin, and strode toward his desk, depositing the paper in the center.
He sat back, his gaze going to the crumpled sheets. “This is Darien Koslow’s paper. Why are you concerned?”
“I’m his sister.”
“And he has you to fight his battles?”
“He’s not…into confrontation.”
“And you are?” His eyebrow rose, and his gaze skimmed my thick coat and thin, short skirt.
“It’s a division of labor,” I muttered.
His gaze narrowed on my face. “Do I know you?”
Something about the way he said it, like he’d never in a million years know a piece of trash like me, fired my blood. “You might remember these,” I said, and tore open my coat, flashing him my boobs with the sequined stickers covering my nipples.
“Ah. Yes,” he said. “Miriam White. You were in my class…five years ago?”
“Four,” I said, slowly closing my coat. So, he didn’t quite remember my face, but he remembered my boobs? “I had to drop out.”
“A death in the family, I recall.”
“Two deaths. My father, Darien’s mother.”
“He’s your stepbrother? Half?”
“Step,” I said, beginning to shake because my anger once again was beginning to retreat, and I was tired and my brother was about to fail this class, and I couldn’t fix this. “I shouldn’t have come.”
“Have a seat, Miriam,” he said then tapped the paper. “Let’s talk about this.”
“You don’t give second chances. I remember that.”
“And I remember you. It was early in the semester. Still time for you to turn around your grade. But you wanted a quick fix.”
“You told me to read the damn book.”
His mouth twisted then straightened into a firm line. “What did you come to ask me for tonight?”
“I wanted you to let Darien resubmit the paper. He’ll do better. I promise.”
His gaze remained narrowed on my face.
I felt a blush creep across my cheeks.
“I have to ask…”
“Yeah, I’m a stripper.”
“Not what I was going to ask, but good to know. I was disappointed when you didn’t reenroll after your parents’ deaths.”
“My priorities changed,” I said, glancing at his bookcase, his diploma-covered walls, anywhere but at his all-too-keen eyes.
“I might be inclined to give your brother a second chance…”
My gaze shot back to him. “Really?” I sucked in a quick breath then stilled.
His gaze had dropped to my chest.
Understanding spilled heat over my skin. I opened my coat again, slowly this time, parting the sides to reveal both globes of my pale breasts. “What will you want in return…from my brother?” I asked, then slowly lifted a finger and tugged on a pasty. I peeled it off, and my nipple sprang, as much from the rasp of the glue pulling away as the professor’s stillness.
His gaze slowly dropped. “I could give him until next Monday.”
Almost an extra week? “He’d be very grateful,” I said and peeled the other pasty. Sitting with my breasts bared, my nipples tightening as the professor calmly negotiated with me, was just about the sexiest thing that had ever happened to me. I fanned my face. “It’s a little hot in here,” I said and slipped my arms from my coat. Then I leaned back in my chair.
“Your brother has never sought tutoring.”
“I’ll see that he talks to your grad assistant.” I reached for the side of my skirt and slowly tugged on the Velcro. The scratch sounded overloud in the small confines of his office, but at last, my skirt fell away. My only clothing now was a black G-string. I pushed up from the chair, and turned, noting the quick intake of his breath, and strode toward the door. I turned the lock on the knob, and then faced him again.
His features had tightened. His cheeks were reddening, his pupils dilating. I let my tall heels exaggerate the sway of my hips as I approached his desk. Thrusting my thumbs beneath the thin elastic at both sides of my hips, I pushed down my panties—
“He has until Monday,” he blurted, his voice harsh. “Now, if you’re through, I still have work to do.” He sat back and didn’t meet my gaze.
My thumbs froze, and then I quickly tugged up the G-string. Disappointment chilled my skin, raising goose bumps. I crossed my arms over my chest and stepped to the chair. Turning again, I gave him my ass rather than let him see the deep flush covering my chest and cheeks. I wrapped the skirt around my hips and tugged on my coat. At the door, I didn’t glance back, I spoke to the side, “Thank you,” then let myself out of the professor’s office.
“He gave me until Monday? Just like that?”
I sat on the side of the mattress after showering. My hair was still wet. My skin cooling in the air-conditioned room. “I asked him nicely.”
“Did you show him your tits, again?” Darien asked, a crooked smile raising one side of his mouth.
I cupped my tits and raised them. “What? You don’t think they’re worth sliding a due date a few extra days?”
He reached for them, fondling them gently. Then he came up on his elbows and latched onto one tip.
There it was. That’s what I’d needed. Darien always knew just how to soothe my rough edges. He suckled insistently, his mouth tugging, his tongue gliding over the tip. By the time he began to gently chew, my pussy throbbed. I clumsily tore away the towel around my waist, because he wasn’t letting go. Then I climbed over him. He held his cock upright then slid it between my folds as I centered myself and slowly sank.
At last, he released my nipple.
“Jesus,” I gasped and began to bounce. My breasts were tight, felt hard, and the bouncing only got made me hotter. I sank and lifted, swirled my hips, all the while he lay quiet beneath me, looking at me from beneath his long, thick lashes—lashes I envied, but knew hid his thoughts from me, from everyone.
I sank and ground against him, letting his crisp pubic hairs score my clit. My breaths were chopped apart by my frantic movements.
A pop landed on one tit, and I let my head fall back. Another slap hit the other, and my channel flooded with moisture. He pinched my nipples and twisted them, and I came, shuddering over him, keening like an alley cat.
When I was done, he gathered me against his chest. This was our give and take.
While I pushed and protected him in the outside world, he knew just how to scrape away the facade. Without the paint and the shoes, without the jutting chin, I was simply his girl, his sister. Together, we were strong enough, brave enough.
I rubbed my chest against his. My nipples were still sprung, still stinging.
“I think you peed on me,” he said, a smile in his voice.
“It’s not pee,” I muttered.
“Do you still think he’s hot?” he whispered in my ear.
I had been so totally relaxed, nearly nerveless, but the precision of his words told me his question wasn’t casual. “Are you jealous?”
His snort reassured me. “No. I think he’s hot, too.”
“And you didn’t flash him your dick?”
“It wouldn’t have worked. I’m pretty sure he’s strictly hetero.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I got a hard-on in his office, and he never looked.”
I laughed, my gut seizing, and me gasping for air. “Seriously?”
His cock stirred inside me, and I knew he wasn’t joking. Just thinking about sitting in the professor’s office with a cockstand turned him on. Turned me on, too. I rolled off him and went to all fours, spreading my knees and lifting my ass. Reaching between my legs, I spread my pussy lips.
His tongue sank deep, and I squeezed myself around it, but he was only teasing, because he slid upward to tickle my asshole, then spread me with his thumbs to poke inside. There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t try. The nastier, the hotter he got. Something I’d known before we’d become lovers, because even as a prepubescent tween, he’d managed to get himself into pickles.
“Do you remember the paddle?” I asked, and then groaned because he’d pointed his tongue and hardened it to sink deeper.
“Don’t. Thought I was going to lose my dick.” He th
rust a finger inside my hole because he knew I wasn’t through talking.
“Oh…um, it was so fucking funny and so horrible. You were ready to cry…” I bit my lip as he added a second finger. “But too embarrassed to tell Mom or Dad.”
What eleven-year-old wanted his mother to see his dick pushed through an air hole in the paddle she kept under her bed for playtime?
His laugh was low and dirty. “I had to come to you—and I just knew you’d never let me hear the end of it.”
“And you were right,” I said, my laugh cut in two by the bite he gave my clit.
“It was the best night of my life,” he said, his tone wry. He tapped my clit with his tongue and finger-fucked my ass vigorously.
“Um, I couldn’t think…of another way to lubricate you… and get you out of that thing.” I groaned and arched; the tension was nearly unbearable now.
“Fucking worth it to have your mouth on me.”
My breaths were harsh pants and I rubbed my tits on the nubby coverlet. “First oral, huh?”
“It’s not like you made me come.”
“That would have been wrong… in so many ways. And I gargled with Listerine afterward…even though I wasn’t…oh fuck…half as grossed out as I let on.”
“No?” He eased his fingers from inside of me. Then he shifted behind me. The blunt end of his cock nudged my pussy, and I almost sighed my disappointment.
Again, he was only teasing. He slid his cock upward, rubbing my perineum until my bottom lip was ravaged by my teeth to keep from moaning. Then he pushed against my tight rosette.
I resisted. Only because he liked a bit of fight. He nudged again, and I tightened more.
His hand landed on my ass, a hard slap that took away my breath.
My back sank. He spanked me again, and pushed, and this time…I let him come inside.
It was his turn to groan. As he began to stroke inside me, he reached around and slid his fingers through my slit, rubbing then slipping inside me, fucking me with his fingers while he fucked my ass.
I rubbed my tits on the bed again, then came up on my elbows and slammed back to meet his thrusts.
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