Revenge of the Stepmother: Servant Quarter Stepbrothers 1

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Revenge of the Stepmother: Servant Quarter Stepbrothers 1 Page 3

by Kay Brandt

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  By Kay Brandt

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  Hotwives seeking romantic adventures and new lovers meet their perfect matches through the Treasure Trails Dating Agency!

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  Warning: this title contains graphic language, and explicit sex

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  Excerpt:

  The conversation I'd had with Ms. K had stimulated my juices, and there was a throb in my pelvis that wouldn't mellow. Cody had sent me at least a dozen photos throughout the day of his muscular, bare chest and a few with this pants pulled down to his sexy, dark brown hairline. He knew how to make my pussy wet, and I wanted to invite him over to my house so I could spend the night doused in his cum, like I did at the hotel. I'd made a proposal and accepted an invitation, though, and until I received a reply from Cody or Autumn, my next sexual encounter was rather up-in-the-air.

  Curled in my mauve-colored sheets, I played with my tender breasts, remembering the one, hot encounter I had with Autumn, just the two of us. Ms. K had suggested me to her as a potential female lover, open to having sex with her new husband, too. Ms. K's agency had many well-to-do female clients, but not every member likes to indulge her inner lesbian. Autumn and I both listed our sexual preference as bi-sexual when we joined the agency, and we share a mutual interest in swapping husbands and having three-ways that don't always involve spouses. We also live in close proximity to each other, which makes getting together easy and convenient, especially when spontaneous urges takeover.

  It was Autumn's urge to make love to another woman on the heels of her honeymoon with Kevin that brought us together as two horny ladies with an unquenchable thirst for female juice.

  My inner thighs warmed with the scorching memory of reclining naked on Autumn's bed, and I wiggled my fingers between the two folds of flesh blanketing my cunt, finding my moist outer lips. Rubbing my swollen clit in circles like Autumn did to me on that night we made love while her husband listened from the next room, I closed my eyes and let the memory run as a dirty, scandalous fantasy.

  Kevin was very obedient sitting in the other room, while Autumn and I watched each other undress. I'd imagined Kevin leaning against the wall, his pants pulled down to his knees, rubbing his cock with hard, horny strokes, fantasizing about us and what we were doing. Autumn had instructed him to listen closely, wanting for him to enjoy our primal sounds as we made mad, lesbian love.

  “But aren't you just torturing him?” I'd asked her when she explained Kevin would be near but not allowed to join us—not yet, anyway. “The poor thing's been spoiled by your constant post-marital screwing,” I told her, feeling bad for the guy. “We don't have to leave him out.”

  Autumn looked at me like I'd said something horrible. “Yes,” she empathized, “we must.”

  Who was I to argue? I was a guest in her home, and not about to disagree with the woman-of-the-house.

  Autumn had set a romantic stage for us in her bedroom. There were candles burning a subtle vanilla scent into the air surrounding us, and the billowing curtains were partially drawn to allow the afternoon sun to dance on our skin as we touched aroused nipples together, naked and face-to-face on her fancy bed. Each nightstand had a vase filled with white roses, and she'd peeled away a few petals to tease my senses.

  “You're lovely, Berlin,” Autumn complimented, caressing the curve of my bosom with the petals until she reached my sensitive nubs. There, she placed a petal on each one and squeezed the flowery scent onto my nipples, stirring my libido beyond measure.

  “Ohhh,” I sighed, quivering with her seductive touch, feeling myself wilt like the petals did against my chest. My skin coated with the scent of rose, Autumn brought her mouth to my right breast and drew a long inhale before blowing her warm breath over my fullness.

  “Mmmm,” she moaned, jutting her tongue towards my areola and licking the peach-colored circumference like a cat devouring a bowl of milk, lapping, teasing, and then slurping on my firm nipples.

  “You're an oral artist,” I told her between gasps, watching her tongue trail my breasts, suckling on the right and then the left with growing intensity. Chest and belly filled with potent sensations, I reached for my clit but she slapped my hand from it.

  “Wait,” she commanded, “let me work. It's been months since I've had pussy in my mouth or anywhere else on my body. Don't rush.”

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