My Stepbrother's Secret

by Annabelle Winters

  The orgasm is so intense I almost pass out, and after that day, it is like a wall has been broken down inside me, a dam opened up, and I just allow my body to take over. Within a few days I am back to masturbating every afternoon when I get home from school, feeling guilty as I think about Caleb again and again, naked before me, commanding me to suck his cock, to get on my knees, to spread for him. The feeling of his semen against my naked body is intoxicating in such a vulgar, perverted, FILTHY way, but it turns me on, and sometimes I touch it with my finger, smear it on my clit, sniff it, taste it even. I feel like a sick, twisted person, but I can’t help but just follow where my body is leading. I just can’t stop myself.

  I am far gone, I realize. Deep into a weird fucking obsession, and that obsession is growing as I try every day to get back from school early enough to catch Caleb in the act, knowing deep down that perhaps this isn’t about getting back at him or anything like that. No, I am actually burning to see what my stepbrother is doing in my bed with these women. Yes, I am that far gone.

  And finally, a week later, I get my wish. I catch him in the act.

  9

  It is a Wednesday afternoon, and by now I have realized that Caleb has been timing his fuck-sessions just right, so they’ll be done by the time I get home on the bus. He probably doesn’t realize I am riding my bike home so I can beat the bus back, which is why I see these women leaving sometimes.

  But this Wednesday I’ve been just going nuts all day thinking about it. I have to catch him. I fucking HAVE to. And so when the last class of the day starts, I ask to go to the bathroom and then I sneak out through a side door, get my bike, and just take off.

  My thigh muscles are burning when I pull into our driveway, and I am covered in sweat. I carefully lean my bike against the garage wall and stand there for a moment to catch my breath. I look out into the street and I can see a car out there—that same green Lexus. My heart jumps with panic mixed with joy. I’ve made it back in time! This is it! They’re up there!

  My legs feel like jelly as I creep up the stairs to the third floor, making sure I tiptoe past the second floor. I can see my dad in the study on his computer, and he is saying something while smiling and nodding, so I figure my stepmom is in there with him. They are talking now, and I slip past them and head upstairs.

  Now I am outside my room. The door is closed, and I carefully put my ear to it. At first I hear nothing, but then, when I close my eyes and hold my breath and concentrate, some faint sounds start to make their way through.

  The sounds are weird, almost freaky. I can definitely hear a woman’s voice, but she isn’t speaking words. Slowly it dawns on me that she is fucking SCREAMING and it just sounds really muffled and low through the soundproofing! She is just crying out WILDLY, screaming in these short little bursts. It sounds so fucking strange because of the soundproofing, strange to hear a woman screaming but at a low volume.

  Now I listen harder and I can make out another sound, right before each scream. It sounds like a series of sharp cracks, like gunshots ringing out. I have no idea what the fuck it is, but it sends a chill up and down my spine to hear this woman scream in those short, gasping bursts as those sharp cracks ring out in an erratic rhythm.

  I just stand there for a while, the sweat from my bike-ride still pouring down my face, wetting my armpits, running down the middle of my back, my stomach, soaking the waistband of my panties, dripping into my crotch. I am breathing heavily, and I force myself to slow down and stay quiet. Finally, once I think I have gained some control over myself, I gently turn the cold brass doorknob and push the door open a crack.

  And what I see almost makes me fall down in disbelief, scream with shock, howl with panicked astonishment. Because there, on my bed, is that blonde woman, on her knees, face down, naked ass sticking up in the air, asscheeks spread wide, arms stretched out in front of her, wrists tied to my bedposts with flowing strands of black lace. She is spread-eagled grotesquely, her dark asshole and pink pussy clearly visible, her face turned to the side, eyes closed tight, mouth contorted with ecstasy as she whimpers and moans.

  And there is Caleb, his back to me, fully naked, and I gasp when I see a sprawling black tattoo covering the rippling muscles on his back, some kind of weird design, and I stare at his naked ass, all tight and muscular, clenched and flexed.

  He is kneeling on my bed, lined up against the side of this blonde woman’s ass, and with his right hand he is rubbing her crack, fingering her from behind, doing it really fast, hard, penetrating her pussy and asshole with his fingers as she shudders and thrashes, pulling on her bindings as my little bed creaks and groans with her gyrations.

  I am aghast at the sight, completely frozen, and I stare at my stepbrother’s naked back, and I can tell from the way he is moving that he is jerking himself off with one hand while masturbating this woman with the other, and I start to shiver at the sight, but I just can’t look away, can’t move away, can barely breathe!

  I watch in stunned silence as my stepbrother drives his fingers deep into this woman’s pussy from behind, two fingers, then three, now two again, then one finger in her asshole again as he jerks himself off harder, and this blonde woman is spreading shamelessly as my brother fucks her with his fingers, and she is arching her back, pulling on her bonds, shuddering and shaking like jelly.

  And then suddenly Caleb pulls his fingers out of the woman and holds them up, and I can see the wetness glistening on his fingers, and slowly he brings the wetness to his face, smells it, all the while still jerking himself off, and now he leans over and touches those wet fingers to the woman's lips.

  “Taste yourself,” Caleb says, and his voice is deep and commanding. “Taste yourself for me.”

  The woman’s eyelids flutter open and she smiles as she blinks to regain some focus on the world around her. She opens her mouth wide now, and Caleb pushes his fingers into her mouth, and she moans as she sucks her own juices off my stepbrother’s fingers, and I am freaking out at how sick this is, how twisted it looks, how fucking FILTHY this scene is.

  But I keep watching, mesmerized by the sight of my naked stepbrother jerking himself off with one hand, pushing the fingers of his other hand into this beautiful woman’s mouth, him grunting, she moaning, both of them naked, sweaty, wet . . . and all of it on my bed. On MY bed!

  Now Caleb takes his fingers out of her mouth, raises his hand, and then brings his open palm down HARD on this woman’s smooth bronze ass, and she SCREAMS in ecstasy now, and Caleb is jerking himself off harder now, starting to spank this woman with tremendous force, the sounds of his slaps ringing out like gunshots through my tiny room, and she is wailing like some she-beast as she gets her ass pounded, and I can see the skin turning bright red, the finger-marks of my brother’s strong hand leaving imprints that look like long, crisscrossed streaks, like whiplashes, and he is spanking harder, pulling on his cock, grunting as she howls, and he spanks some more, harder now, harder, faster, faster—

  —and suddenly Caleb’s entire body tenses up and his back goes straight, every visible muscle in his body flexing as his neck strains, and now he fucking SHOVES his fingers back into the woman from behind, and she SCREAMS, and Caleb is furiously finger-fucking her, pushing deep into her vagina, and she is shaking like she is having a seizure, and I can see her eyes start to roll up in her head as her body starts to convulse uncontrollably, and I realize she is about to come.

  Yes, she is about to come.

  And so is Caleb, my stepbrother.

  Right there in front of me. In my bed.

  10

  I almost gag with an overwhelming feeling of disgust and fascination mixed together, and I just place a hand over my mouth and blink in disbelief as this woman now HOWLS one last time and her back arches as my brother pushes his fingers deep inside her pussy and just holds them in there, and now she starts to shudder like there is an earthquake inside her, and her orgasm comes with a low, bloodcurdling wail that sends shivers through me again, and she is
thrashing under my brother’s touch now, flailing and sputtering as she comes with my brother’s fingers still inside her wet slit, and I feel faint, my legs weak, and I couldn’t move away if I wanted to . . .

  . . . and the sickest part is that I don’t WANT to move away, and I just stand there as the blood pounds in my ears, my vision goes blurry, my head starts to spin, and it is like I am in a dream, and in my dream I see Caleb look up at the ceiling and let out a shout as he flexes his hips outwards and fucking EXPLODES all over this woman’s still-heaving ass, his semen shooting out of him, the heavy wetness of his cum now pouring out on her naked ass, flowing down the crack of her buttocks, and my brother is in ecstasy, shouting as he continues to jerk himself through his orgasm, and I can see this woman pull at the lace binding her wrists, and she turns her neck, looking back at my brother’s cock with longing in her eyes, like she wants to feel it inside her, pouring its white heat into her.

  “Please, Caleb,” she says, gasping as she moves her ass, flexes her buttocks, like she is trying to take his semen into her somehow. “Oh, God, this is torture.”

  But Caleb barely notices her pleas, and he finishes his orgasm and smacks her on the ass once more, slapping at his own semen, coating her asscheeks with it, rubbing it into her asscrack like he is anointing her, marking her, claiming her in some animal-like way.

  Now he slowly stands up off the bed, his back still to me, and I gasp when I see his long, lean body in its nakedness, muscles defined on every inch of tanned surface, his skin smooth and pure, that black tattoo looking mysterious and erotic in the yellow light of my little room.

  I stand there staring, almost forgetting where I am, why I am here. I watch Caleb slowly walk around my bed and start to untie this woman who is a hot mess right now, completely broken by her orgasm, worn out by her ecstasy, that trancelike look of satisfaction gleaming from her bloodshot eyes.

  “Can I come back tomorrow,” she asks him, smiling as she sits up in bed and rubs her wrists. “Same time?”

  Caleb grunts and shakes his head. “No. I’m busy tomorrow. Call me on Friday and I’ll let you know.”

  The woman puts on an exaggerated pout now, pretending to be upset, but I can see she is just teasing. She seems to know exactly what Caleb and her relationship is about, and it doesn’t seem like it’s about candlelit dinners and long walks on the beach.

  I watch from the crack in the door as she slowly stands up off the bed, stretching her gorgeous naked body as she looks for her clothes. She has perfectly round breasts with large pink nipples and dark areolas, a perfectly trimmed strip of soft brown pubic hair that ends above her shaved vagina, beautifully formed curves on her hips and legs, and now I suddenly feel a surge of jealousy as I subconsciously compare her womanly contours to my awkward eighteen-year-old body, my tits that I always thought were too small, my butt that I feel is too big for my body, my pussy that I’ve never had the guts to shave all the way clean.

  This weird surge of jealousy makes me angry at myself, and I am about to close the door and head downstairs and hide out until this woman leaves, but then I hear her say something to Caleb and I stay.

  “Okay,” she says to him as she pulls her panties on, not caring about my brother’s cum now drying on her bare butt. “I’ll call Friday.” She straightens up now, pulling her panties all the way up, and she snaps at the waistband and smiles. She glances at Caleb, who is still standing in the middle of the room, back to me, completely naked, making no move to put on his clothes. I can see that this woman just looked at his cock, and I suddenly feel an aching to see it myself, to see it all semi-hard and wet, hanging down, perhaps still dripping with semen, the same sticky juice that I’ve smelled in my bed, rubbed on my ass as I touched myself in this very bed.

  “Okay,” the woman says again, taking another deep breath as she forces herself to look away from his cock and up into his eyes. “But next time I need you to fuck me, Caleb.” Now her voice drops to a whisper, and she stops putting on her bra and goes close to Caleb, and she is suddenly pleading again, begging almost. “Please fuck me next time, Caleb. Please fuck me.”

  And now I see my brother’s head turn to the side as he looks down at her, and for the first time I see my stepbrother’s eyes, and they are cold, ruthless, without compassion, without that warmth that I saw in them when it was just me and him in his room, talking about trivial shit, superficial nonsense. Who is this guy in here right now?

  Now I suddenly become afraid that my brother will see me, and although the plan was to catch him in the act and confront him, I know I don’t have it in me to do that right now. Not after what I’ve just seen. I need to process it. Process how I feel about it. Process why I stayed and watched them finish. I mean, if they are sick and twisted, then what kind of a person am I for standing here and watching in secret?

  So I slowly pull the door closed even as the woman asks Caleb to promise he will fuck her the next time, as she pleads once again to be fucked by my brother. And just before the door closes all the way, I hear my brother answer:

  “I’ll think about it,” he says to her. “But don’t ask me again. Remember, I’m in control here. Not you. I’m in control here. I’m in control.”

  11

  “I’m in control here.”

  These words stay with me as I get ready for bed. I have changed into my flannel pajamas and brushed my teeth, and I am just standing in my room now, staring at my bed. The sheets are dry now, but I can still smell him in here. I can smell both of them. Those images of that woman spread out, my brother’s fingers inside her, her back arching as she raged through her orgasm . . . yes, those images are still flooding my brain, making me sick and at the same time aroused. I feel dirty for having watched, sick for knowing what I know about my brother, twisted for feeling my attraction for him still burn a hole in my soul, put an ache in my heart, send a tingle up my inner thighs, making my clit stiff, my pussy wet. Am I going insane? Have all these years of being a virgin while my friends were getting laid made me a sexual freak of nature?

  “I’m in control here.”

  Control over what? Control over this woman in my bed? Control over the space in his home? Control over ME in some sick way?

  I don’t know the answer to these questions, and I am suddenly very tired and confused, confused at how I saw my brother behave, confused at myself for enjoying it in some perverse, filthy way.

  I turn off the lights and close my eyes, but my thoughts are racing and my body is hot, and even though I feel a tremendous sense of conflict and guilt, I slowly reach down under the covers and push my flannel pajamas down, reach into my panties, touch my warm crotch, flick my engorged clit, and finally, with a sigh of resignation, press my fingers against my wet slit as I fade away into one more sick, twisted private fantasy of me and my stepbrother.

  12

  I wake up before sunrise, my right hand still inside my panties, my face feeling hot and sticky. The word “Control” is somehow playing on my mind, and I sit up and look around in the darkness as I blink away the crustiness in my eyes. What do I do next? Do I tell Caleb I’ve seen what he does in my room? Tell him I know his secret?

  But then, as I stand in the shower and feel the hot water blast down on my naked body, see the steam rise up in the small bathroom, it occurs to me that I am in control in some way. I know my stepbrother’s secret. I can expose him anytime I want. I can arrange it so that my stepmom catches him in my room, maybe even my dad. I can make his life very uncomfortable here, if I want. I am in control. I am in control!

  And so I decide to keep this to myself right now. I won’t confront him yet. I certainly won’t tell my dad or stepmom about what I’ve seen. I can hold on to this secret, and it will give me power. Yes, it will give me power.

  But as the school day winds itself down and the last period begins, I find my thoughts drifting to my room again, my bed. What is Caleb doing right now in my room? Is he with a different woman? That skinny Asian chick I saw last week?
That curvy redhead from the other day? That striking young black woman who drives that white Toyota Camry? Someone else I haven’t even seen yet?

  Has he tied her up already? Is he spanking her now? Slapping her face? Pulling her hair?

  Is he teasing her mouth with his cock, circling her asshole with his finger, pinching her nipples until they turn red and stand up straight? Is the woman-of-the-day begging him to fuck her as he just smiles and shakes his head, pulling on his own cock as he pushes his fingers into her pussy and then makes her taste her own juices as they coat his fingertips? Is that his ultimate act of control? Controlling the woman’s orgasm as well as his own?

  And suddenly I feel a rush of insight, as if I have suddenly hit upon the answer to my own questions, as if I suddenly understand something about my stepbrother, about his strange fetishes, his sick needs, his borderline cruel actions in the bedroom, his revolving door of different women who seem to love being tied up by him, spanked until their asses are raw, fingered from behind as they beg to be fucked.

  So after dinner I walk up the stairs and knock on Caleb’s door. Once again my heart is pounding, but in a different way now. Somehow I feel like I have some power now. I know something about my stepbrother. Something deep, important, personal. Perhaps something he hasn’t even figured out yet.