by Ora Wilde
FUBU: A Stepbrother Romance
Coming MARCH, 2016
And there she was before me, lying down on the bed in all her glory, naked as the day she was born. Her milky white skin shimmered under the meager lighting in her room. Her tits, small but perky, invited my touch. One of her nips was exposed as the other was covered by the curly edges of her long, dark hair. That nipple was more brown than it was pink, and it was pointed and hard, waiting for my tongue to taste it. Her legs rubbed against each other... with frantic smoothness as if she was possessed by lust (and she most probably was)... a subliminal way of stimulating herself to keep her excitement in check.
She was blindfolded. I did that to her. With my father’s necktie which I stole from the room next to hers.
Her hands were tied on one of the columns of her bed’s headboard. I did that to her, as well. With the unused tablecloth I looted from the storage room downstairs.
I hovered over her, trying my best not to touch her skin... not even the slightest inch.
It was one of her very specific instructions.
She let out a subdued moan as her body fidgeted. She was getting restless. The uncertainty of her situation was making her edgy... in a good way, of course.
This was her idea, after all.
“Come on, Dex... get on with it,” she softly said. Her lips, thick and red, have always been so kissable.
My face approached hers. My lips caressed the edges of her mouth.
But she turned her head towards her side to avoid my kiss.
“What are you doing?” she asked in shock.
“Errr... uhm... kissing you?” I stated the obvious in the form of a bewildered question.
“You’re not supposed to do that,” she reminded me. Her face was turned slightly to my left. Her eyes were still covered. She didn’t know, exactly, where I was.
“You did ask me to get on with it,” I told her with a half-laugh.
“That’s not how these things begin,” she argued. Her luscious lips curled into a frown.
“Ooookayyyy... let’s just restart this thing then.”
“Let’s.”
And so I grabbed the feather duster from the side of her bed. I poached it from the same storage room where I got the tablecloth.
Slowly, I glided its downy edges through her inner thighs. Her back arched and she wailed. She liked it. I slid it closer to her cunt and she began to twist and turn. She wriggled her hands, a subconscious attempt to break free. She elevated her knees and spread her legs, giving me a good view of her delicious pussy.
Delicious.
I should know. I’ve been there before... with my fingers and my tongue and my cock.
The feathers skimmed around her clit. She moaned even louder... so loud, in fact, the she could’ve called the attention of everyone in the house, pointing them to where we were and what we were doing, unveiling us as sinful lovers who plied in secrecy under the stillness of night. Luckily, we had the entire place for ourselves. We didn’t have to keep things quiet, a luxury that we seldom had.
She was wet. She was very wet. Her nectar was dripping down her thighs, unto the sheets, creating a pool that was testament to our misdemeanor.
I left her cunt to proceed to her breasts, much to her dismay. She actually whimpered. But when the velvety feel of the cleaning tool brushed against her nip, her face wrung into ecstatic bliss. I made circular motions and she wailed once again.
I left her tip and went to her neck. She squeezed the feather duster with her shoulder and her cheek... and affectionate gesture... an appreciative motion... a sign that she wanted more.
She bobbled her head and her cheek rubbed against the fleecy fringes.
Then she sneezed.
Not once. Not twice. But five straight times.
It was followed by incessant coughing.
Instinctively, I dropped the feather duster and reached for her hands. I began to untie them, but she stopped me.
“No, Dex, don’t,” she pleaded in between her hacks.
“But you’re not okay,” I said.
“Yeah!” she declared, still coughing. “Did you shake off the dust from the feather duster before you used it on me?”
Oh shit!
“Uhm...” I was speechless.
Her coughing stopped. She sighed. Then she clicked her tongue.
“Let’s just try the next one then,” she suggested.
“Okay.”
She turned on her tummy and raised up her butt. I noticed that there was too much pressure on her knees. She wasn’t on all fours. Her hands were still bound on the headrest.
“Is this position alright for you?” I asked worriedly.
“Oh, just shut up, Dex, and do it,” she replied irritatedly. She wasn’t being rude. She was just being... her. Bossy. Demanding. Impatient. I must admit, I found all of those traits endearing. Infuriating at times - maddening, even - but lovable nonetheless.
I gently caressed her ass, which was just as silky smooth as the rest of her body. She took good care of herself. That much I knew, not only because of her hour-long baths twice everyday and thrice on Sundays, but because of how much she loved to pamper herself with beauty products I wasn’t even aware existed. What the hell was a BB cream anyway? And tea tree oil? The first time I saw it on the kitchen counter, I thought it was some kind of a fruit extract. A sore tongue and an upset stomach later, I asked her what it was. That made her livid. Never touch my stuff, she yelled at me despite the direness of my condition.
She wiggled her buns a bit, thrilled by what she expected would happen next.
“Are you ready?” I asked her.
Again, she clicked her tongue.
“Don’t ruin the mood with questions,” she responded. “We’ve already talked about this... what to do... the sequence... etcetera etcetera. Just do it, Mr. Matthews!”
And so I did.
I held her waist with my hand. I opened the other, revealing my palm. I raised it high in the air. Then I dropped it on her buttocks, with so much force that produced a a booming thump that echoed throughouy her room.
“Awwwww!” she screamed in pain. “That hurts!”
She turned to her side and looked at my direction. Her eyes were still covered. She reacted intuitively.
“I’m sorry,” I quickly tried to pacify her. “You did tell me to spank you.”
“But that was too hard!”
“Isn’t that the point of spanking? Otherwise, you would’ve just asked me to poke your ass.”
“Did it leave a mark? Please tell me it didn’t leave a mark.”
I wanted to laugh at the cause of her worry. I looked at her ass as I was ready to tell her that there was nothing to be concerned about. But then, I saw the wide area reddened by my blow. Small patches of violet were scattered all over it.
“Well? Did it leave a mark?” she was eager to know.
“Errrr...”
“Errr?!”
“It should be gone in the morning.”
She turned her body completely until she was lying on her back. She removed her blindfold, and I saw her pretty green eyes giving me a look that was far more sinister than all of hell’s fury.
“It should be gone in the morning?!” she repeated in angry disbelief. “What do you mean it should be gone in the morning?”
“It’s just... small. Just as tiny as a speck. Nothing major.” I lied. The truth was, it looked like a map of the Polynesian Islands was tattooed on her butt.
“Oh no,” she refused to believe me. “Dex, please get the mirror. It’s in my drawer. Hurry!”
It was my turn to sigh.
I didn’t get up. Instead, I dropped my body over her, supporting my weight with my forearms. My lips were poised over hers. I could feel her breath... quickly escalating into a rapid pace. I gently stroked her hair.
“Do you really want me to do that and ruin our momentum?” I asked her with the most inviting smile I could muster.
Her lo
vely lips coiled on the side, her eyes transformed from being vexed to being rapt. She drew her pinky to her mouth and bit it. For a few seconds, she thought. Then she smiled. The damn cutest smile in the world.
Our lips met. Our lips locked. And once again, as we always have every night whenever we had the chance and whenever we felt like it, our bodies and souls melted into each other. I hugged her, she hugged me. We kissed. Our tongues clashed. I touched her where I knew she wanted to be touched... her neck, the area beneath her breasts, the surface just below her bellybutton, her clit...
We moved restlessly as we wanted to claim each other... as completely as we possibly could. My hands rubbed her back. She hooked her legs over mine. My chest pressed against her soft tits. Her mouth bit into my shoulder.
“Lie down,” she whispered after a few minutes of yearning embrace.
I did. I knew what she wanted. Her favorite position. The one that gave her the most pleasure.
I moved to one side of the bed as my eyes met the ceiling.
She grabbed the sealed condom which I have earlier placed on the drawer beside her bed. She ripped the packaging open with her teeth. She inserted the rubber on my dick. She kissed her fingers before planting them on my shaft. Then she gave me a naughty smile.
That was my cue to get ready.
She went on top of me. She stroked my cock, which has been so very hard since she took off her clothes, and positioned it at the opening of her cunt. She began to drop her weight over me... slowly... carefully... until the tip of my dick entered her pussy. Then she sat, and the entirety of my cock went in with the smoothest of motions. She let out a wild moan, then she started to rock her hips, steadily at first, but quickening with every swing.
It should be quick. It always was.
Barely a minute into it, her body started to stiffen. Her toes curled. Her back straightened. Her eyes closed. She looked up to the heavens, breathing heavily... edgily... at a skyrocketing rate. Her moans were becoming louder. Her nails began to dig into my chest.
Then she started to scream... a luxury afforded by the privacy we enjoyed that night.
Her body twitched and turned as her midsection continued to sway with my cock deep inside her. She screamed and screamed and screamed.
She kept coming for a good thirty seconds or so.
That’s how much time I delayed my own gratification.
The sight of her on top of me, with full view of her sweet and dainty body as well as her pretty face lost in savage rapture... it never failed to arouse me. The more she rocked, the more I wanted her. And when she came, it only intensified my desire to climax.
Her pussy... her pussy was so tight that I could feel the blissful pressure of her walls squeezing my dick with her every motion, even with the condom on. It made my war even harder to fight.
I wanted to explode, but I had to wait.
And when she started to slow down, I knew it was my turn. I grabbed her hips and started to pump my cock inside her. She was still moaning, though more serenely than before. I was moaning with her.
And I came.
A rush of passion took over me. I felt the warmth of my semen fill up the rubber I was wearing.
Her body collapsed on mine. She rested her head over my chest. I hugged her as I played with her hair.
“You weren’t as horny as before?” she asked with a tinge of concern. Was she worried that her magic over me was waning?
“Nonsense,” I assured her. “I’m still ready for round two!”
She impishly whacked my arm.
“I’m sure you are,” she said. “What I mean is... you weren’t as... I dunno... focused... as before.”
“Heh. That BDSM bullshit threw me out of my comfort zone, s’all.”
“Sorry ‘bout that.”
“What made you wanna try it, anyway?”
She paused for a while. An awkward kind of silence followed.
“Nothing,” she finally uttered. “Experiment. Try something new. That sort of thing.”
“I see.” I rubbed her back until she fell asleep on top of me. We rarely had a chance like that. But with her dad and my mom off to Vegas for the weekend, and with Chelsea sleeping over at her classmate’s house to do some schoolwork, we had the entire place for ourselves. And for a night... we were able to do what we wanted to do without the fear of getting caught. We were free.
We should be happy.
But something bothered me, a pesky feeling that would plague me the whole night.
Nothing, she said when I asked her about the weird things she made me do that evening. Nothing.
When people would sleep together as much as we did, they’d get to know a whole lot about each other... their inhibitions, their secret fantasies, their intimate desires, their quirks, their tendencies. A union of bodies, a merging of souls, and one would be able to say a lot with just the simplest of gestures.
At that moment, I felt it. I knew it.
It was the first time that I sensed it from her.
She wasn’t telling me the entire story.
She was lying.
It’s not the lie that disturbed me, though. I wasn’t her boyfriend. I didn’t have the right to go crazy over any untruth she would tell. Our affections for each other ceased every time I left her bed, just as we have agreed on in the beginning.
No, it’s not the lie.
Rather, it’s why she lied that troubled me.
To Be Released On
MARCH, 2016
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