She sniffed. “Through all the shit our parents put us through, you were always the closest thing this family had to an adult.”
Hannibal reeled back when he heard that.
He’d never considered that at all. But in some ways it was true.
His mom had gone on a full-on Angry Black Woman crusade. Her dad was banging the pretty white divorced woman. And Kristen’s mom was latching onto the nearest man who’d pay her attention like he was a life jacket.
The three ‘adults’ in their lives were fucked up, out of control and wrapped up in their own selfish urges.
And Jules and Kristen had both been too young to deal with it.
For the first time since coming back, Hannibal looked down at Kristen and breathed: “I’m sorry.”
And he meant it.
Kristen reached up, and slid her slender white fingers into his big, black hand.
“I love having you back here,” she breathed. “But I can’t stand looking into your eyes and not seeing the guy who left all those months ago.”
She closed her eyes, and Hannibal could only imagine she was thinking. Perhaps replaying memories of the news stories and tabloid headlines about him – the threesomes, the porn stars, and his recent fling with hip hop honey and caramel-colored sex goddess Toni Rome.
For the past year, he’d been playing a part; the ghetto-talking black MMA thug. And while some of it had been to legitimize his meteoric MMA career, he had to admit that a big aspect was simply the delicious simplicity of stepping into a ‘role’ and leaving who he really was behind.
Just like he’d left Kristen, and Jules, and his parents behind.
But now Kristen was looking up at him, and wondering if that ghetto-talking persona had become the real Hannibal Alexander.
With a sigh, Hannibal knelt down, until he was face to face with Kristen. He could see tears glistening on her cheeks in the moonlight.
He brushed them away.
“I’m sorry I left,” Hannibal breathed. And then he added: “And I’m sorry I let you down.” He looked deep into her glistening eyes. “It’s killing me knowing that when you look at me, you don’t feel about me the same way you used to.”
And that’s when Kristen sniffled.
“Actually, that’s the worst part,” she admitted. “I look into your eyes, and I still do.”
And that’s when Hannibal curled his big, calloused hand around the back of Kristen’s neck, and pulled her forward – to press his thick, soft lips against hers in a tender, needful kiss.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Kristen
Kristen couldn’t believe it.
Three years of fantasies and daydreams suddenly came true, right then and there in that dark, dingy dorm room.
Hannibal was kissing her.
She moaned into her mouth, and eagerly kissed him back, opening her mouth to accept his questing tongue. Then her hands reached up, to circle his thick, muscular torso – marveling at the contrast of his soft skin and rock hard muscles.
“Oh, fuck,” pulling his mouth away, Hannibal gently pushed Kristen down onto the bed, and climbed on top of her. “I-I can’t believe we’re doing this.”
Kristen silenced him with her mouth.
The tiny twin bed creaked under their weight, as Hannibal crushed his stepsister into the mattress and kissed her hotly.
Beneath him, Kristen curled her arms around his massive shoulders, and drank in his scent, as he moved his thick lips against hers.
“Oh, God,” she gasped, pulling her mouth away. “Oh, please… Take my top off.”
And he did.
Rearing up, Hannibal pulled Kristen’s t-shirt over her head, and threw it aside. Her sportsbra was next – leaving her round, pert breasts exposed; painted with pale triangles that contrasted against the caramel tan of her skin.
But that was nothing compared to the contrast of Hannibal’s big, dark hands as he tenderly squeezed her tits.
“Huuungh,” Kristen’s head flopped back, as her pussy throbbed at the sensation of Hannibal mauling her. Her next moan was directly into his mouth, as the huge fighter kissed her desperately once again.
It was her turn, now. Sliding her hands down his rippled torso, she finally reached Hannibal’s narrow hips and dug her thumbs into the elastic waistband of his boxer shorts.
She yanked them down – and felt a hot, meaty thwack as Hannibal’s now-exposed hard-on sprang out from its cotton confines and slapped her across the arms.
“Oh, shit,” she pulled her mouth away from his, and looked down between their bodies. Hannibal’s cock was rearing up from between his legs – as thick as her forearm, and throbbing intimidatingly.
She gasped, and simultaneously felt her panties flood with wetness.
“I-I’ve… I’ve never seen one that big before.” And, the truth be told, Kristen hadn’t exactly seen many penises at all. She’d had a boyfriend in her first year at college, and a drunken one night stand on spring break, but if you’d stacked both those cocks end-to-end they still wouldn’t have been quite as impressive as the massive black tool bobbing up and down in front of her right then.
If Hannibal was flattered, he didn’t indicate it. He just kicked off his boxer shorts, and then dug his fingers into the waistband of Kristen’s cotton shorts. A moment later he wrenched them – and her panties – half way down her tanned, thick thighs.
“Oh, God,” Kristen flopped back and stared at the ceiling, as she felt Hannibal pull off her clothes. A moment later she was naked – and the hard heat of Hannibal’s muscular body was sliding between her thighs.
They kissed again, and Hannibal squeezed her left breast with one of his massive hands. Kristen moaned wetly into her mouth, and felt her exposed pussy gush with wetness.
And then she felt it – hardness, veiled in soft skin, brushing insistently up and down her inner thighs.
“H-Hannibal…” Kristen pulled her mouth away, and cradled Hannibal’s flat face in her hands. Staring into his eyes, Kristen murmured: “D-do you have a condom?”
Hannibal’s eyes flashed. He shook his head.
“I had no idea this was going to happen tonight,” he admitted. “Especially not with you.” And as he said that, Kristen moaned, feeling the hard, insistent length of Hannibal’s big, black cock throb against her thigh.
“Oh, fuck,” she wrapped her arms around her stepbrother’s huge shoulders. “Just do it. Please, before I lose my mind.”
And Hannibal didn’t need to be told twice. Spreading her thighs, he pressed the tip of his swollen shaft between Kristen’s legs, and nuzzled the head between the glistening lips of her pussy.
With one firm thrust, he was inside her.
“Oh, God,” Kristen moaned, tightening her grip on his shoulders as Hannibal’s enormous cock stretched and filled her. “Oh, God, that feels so fucking good.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Kristen
The tiny twin-sized bed creaked and rocked as Hannibal and Kristen writhed on it.
Kristen was crying out, as she felt herself split apart by inch after inexorable inch of Hannibal’s enormous cock.
And as he sunk inside her, the big man gazed down, keep into the eyes of his stepsister, as they widened in shock, and pleasure, and a delicious discomfort that made her pussy throb.
“Oh, God,” Kristen groaned, curling her arms around Hannibal’s shoulders. “W-why weren’t we doing this years ago?”
Hannibal stroked her cheek, and finally sunk inside her fully; so that his muscular hips were pressed hard against hers.
“I-I don’t know,” he groaned, and then he leaned forward and kissed her again.
And, as he did, Hannibal thrust. With slow, powerful movements of his hips, he pulled that thick cock of his out of Kristen’s tight, clenching depths and then thrust himself back in; eliciting a moan and a squirm from her that made his cock even harder than it already was.
The emotion of it – gazing into each other’s eyes – wa
s like making love. But the raw lust of their writhing bodies, and the relentless, merciless way Hannibal thrust deep inside her… That was pure fucking.
“Oh, God,” Kristen moaned. The angle of Hannibal’s thrusts was grinding his hips against her clitoris. “Oh, God, I’m going to… going to…”
And then she came, loudly and wetly, shuddering beneath Hannibal as he continued to thrust inside her.
The moment Kristen’s pussy tightened, the big, dangerous MMA fighter knew that he couldn’t hold out much longer.
He grabbed a fistful of Kristen’s hair, and wrenched her head back so she was forced to look him in the eye. Then he smiled, and kissed her, and thrust himself so deeply inside her that Kristen cried out into his mouth.
His cock throbbed, and swelled, and for poor Kristen it felt like it almost doubled in size inside her.
And then he exploded deep inside her clenching depths.
“Oh, fuuuuuuck,” Kristen’s back arched, as she felt herself flooded. The gush of hot wetness triggered another orgasm of her own, and Kristen’s nails dug into the slab-like muscle of Hannibal’s shoulders, and she carved long welt into his back as she climaxed again.
And then, as his cock spurted once, twice and then a final time inside her, Hannibal came crashing down on top of his stepsister, panting and gasping.
Kristen lay crushed beneath him, her chest heaving. She stroked Hannibal’s shaved, sweaty skull and shuddered as she felt his rigid cock slowly growing softer inside her.
“I-I can’t believe we just did that,” she murmured.
But Hannibal was already snoring.
Chapter Thirty
Hannibal
There’s nothing quite like being woken up in the morning by the delicious sensation of a girl’s lips wrapped around your cock.
And that morning, as the light shone through the grimy dormitory window, that’s exactly what happened to Hannibal Alexander.
He groaned, prizing open his eyes. His head was pounding, and his mouth felt dry… But there was the most exquisite sensation between his legs, as something warm, and wet, and sucking worshipped his straining morning erection.
Hannibal lifted his head from the pillow, and stared down the rippled vista of his muscular stomach. His crotch was covered by a curtail of dirty blond hair, bobbing up and down in time to the delicious slurping, sucking sensations on his cock.
Kristen was waking him up with a blowjob.
“Oh, fuuuck,” he groaned, reaching down to slither his fingers into her hair. Kristen looked up, peering out from between the curtain of her hair, his glistening cock held on one hand, and spittle dribbling down her chin.
“Good morning, handsome,” she purred. And then she opened her mouth, and enveloped his throbbing, black cock again.
“Oh, Christ,” Hannibal flopped back into the bed, and lifted his hips – sinking his dick even deeper into Kristen’s sweetly sucking mouth.
He groaned, and squirmed, and squeezed shut his eyes as she licked, and slurped, and then multiplied the delicious intensity of her exquisite blowjob by gently massaging his heavy, egg-sized balls at the same time.
“Oh…. Oh, fuck…” Hannibal reached out and grasped the edges of the tiny, twin-sized bed. “Oh, God, Kristen… I can’t…”
And he didn’t.
As his balls churned, Hannibal squeezed shut his eyes and felt himself explode into Kristen’s mouth.
His swollen cock spurted like a firehose, and his 21-year-old stepsister eagerly swallowed each salty spurt. She gulped them down, throbbing pulse after throbbing pulse, until Hannibal’s balls were empty and he had to beg for mercy.
“T-too much… Oh, God…”
With a ‘pop’ Kristen let Hannibal’s drained cock plop from her lips, and the naked girl slithered up his torso, and planted a wet, salty kiss directly on his lips.
For a moment Hannibal wrinkled his nose – tasting his own cum on her lips. But then the softness of her lips against his worked their magic – and even his freshly-drained cock made a feeble throb in response.
Satisfied with the kiss, Kristen rolled into the crook of Hannibal’s arm and rested her head on his enormous, tattooed chest.
“I thought you deserved to be woken up like that…”
Hannibal stroked her hair.
“If I was guaranteed a wake-up call like that every morning, I’d never get out of bed.”
Kristen giggled.
For a moment they were silent, listening to the slamming of doors and the pattering of feet in the corridor outside.
The other students were awake and active; and leaving this dormitory truly would be a ‘walk of shame.’
“So, what’s the plan?” Hannibal asked.
“I dunno,” Kristen admitted. “Could you drop me off at class? I’d prefer your dad to think I left super early in the morning, rather than simply didn’t come home at all.”
Hannibal chuckled.
“Shit, that suits me. I’m in no hurry to have my old man tear me a new one again.”
Kristen rubbed his chest.
“So what are you going to do?”
Hannibal stared up at the drab ceiling tiles overhead.
After a moment, he said: “I’ll head back to Mommas. She’ll be pissed at me, sure – but that’s hardly anything new. Change my clothes, grab a shower…”
“And then what?”
Hannibal turned his head, and looked deeply into Kristen’s blue eyes.
“It might not be my fault, all this fucked up shit going on in our family. But while I’m here, I can do my mother-fuckin’ best to fix some of it.” He snorted derisively. “You said last night I was the closest thing to an adult in our family. Maybe it’s time I started acting like one.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Hannibal
At a little past eleven in the morning, Hannibal pulled the burbling Bentley to a halt outside Jules’ ghetto-ass apartment building and reluctantly climbed out from behind the leather-wrapped steering wheel.
Casting a suspicious look up and down the street, he swaggered down the pathway to the beaten up metal door, and then hammered his big fist on it loudly.
Silence.
He hammered again.
A muffled groan from within.
A few moments later, as Hannibal kept pounding the door, there was a mumbled cry of: “Okay, okay, stop that mother-fuckin’ racket!” And then he heard the deadbolts being pulled back, and Jules’ haggard, pale face emerged through a crack in the door.
His red-rimmed eyes blinked as he struggled to focus.
“H-Hannibal? What the fuck you doing here, blood?” He checked his watch, and narrowed his bloodshot eyes. “Shit, dawg. What time is it?”
“It’s time for you to get to class,” Hannibal replied, shoving open the door and stepping into the apartment.
Jules staggered back as the door was thrown into his face.
“What the hell, bro?”
But Hannibal wasn’t looking. He was surveying the dingy apartment. It stank of weed and booze, and on the dingy sofa in the corner were two half-naked, strung out black girls who looked like they charged by the hour.
“I see you’ve been spending your winnings responsibly,” he snorted.
“Hey, fuck you,” Jules spat, as he slammed shut the door. “I saw TMZ. After you won that fight back in November, you blew ten grand on a threesome with those porn star twins.”
Hannibal blinked.
That was absolutely true.
“So what the fuck are you doing here, Baller? You here to give me another hard time?” He ran a hand over his close-cropped hair. “I don’t want to hear any more lectures.”
“Well, tough shit,” Hannibal growled. “You’ve got a lecture in an hour. I checked your schedule online.”
Jules blinked. He stood there, swaying slightly, and hissed: “I dropped out, man. Same as you did.”
“The fuck you did,” Hannibal hissed. “You’re going to that lecture, and every lectur
e after that. You dig?”
“Go fuck yourself,” Jules spat. “You’re not the boss of me. You dropped out of college and did fine. I’m gonna do the same.”
Hannibal narrowed his eyes.
“Get your fucking books. I’m driving you to class.”
“The fuck you are!” Jules took a menacing step forward, but Hannibal didn’t even flinch. “You don’t get to fuck off for a year, and then come back like we’ve all still got to listen to you.” He pointed an accusing finger at his brother. “You lost that privilege the moment you turned your back on me!”
“Well, I’m back,” Hannibal growled. “And I’m going to make things right.”
“How?” Jules spat, and he was loud enough for one of the slumbering girls to stir. “How are you going to make things right?” He followed up in a loud hiss: “My telling me to go back to school? Fuck that. My dream is fight – just like you do.”
Hannibal wheeled around, towering over his little brother. Jules staggered back a little, clearly intimidated.
“You mean that?” Hannibal demanded.
“W-what?”
“I asked if you mean that,” he repeated. He pointed a finger at his brother. “Are you gonna commit to fighting? Or is it just another half-assed scheme you’ve got going on to avoid facing up to your real responsibilities?”
“Fuck you, man,” Jules spat. “I’m committed. I’m gonna be a mother-fuckin’ champion, just like you.”
Hannibal snorted.
“Well then, I’ll do you a deal.”
Jules blinked.
“You get your book back and get your ass in my car,” Hannibal spat, “I’ll take you to my gym after class. If you’re serious about fighting, I’m gonna teach you everything I know.”
Jules blinked.
“W-what?”
“I mean it,” Hannibal promised. “I’m not going to do what Pops does. I’m not going to try and make you live your life on his terms. If you’re serious about fighting in that MMA league, then I’ll support you every step of the way.”
Jules blinked.
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