by Abby Angel
Fuck, when did she get so feisty? I realize as I awkwardly reposition myself that my dick’s pointing like a radar mast in her direction.
“Oh you mean sunbathe?”
She takes off her sunglasses, raising an eyebrow, “What did you think I meant?”
You don’t want to know. You’re my stepsister, and I just got home. This is too much to take in at once. Then again, she just split up with Zach, so maybe she’s feeling lonely.
I blurt out, “Sorry about that thing with Zach.”
She doesn’t even blink an eye after I mention his name.
“Good riddance to that asshole!”
Wow, I wasn’t expecting her to say that about the love of her life. Maybe he wasn’t that much of a boyfriend after all. Then again, her not-so-subtle message about him coming too quickly made it clear that he didn’t satisfy her in the bedroom. Maybe…
Stop. This is fucking crazy. She’s my fucking stepsister.
But…
Karen’s hot.
There’s no fucking denying that. All the fucking moral grandstanding doesn’t get past the simple biological desire to take my hard 12 inch fuck tool and stick it inside her. To spread her wide open and fuck the living shit out of her. To smell the steam from her pussy and empty a quart of cum inside of her.
“Are you going to stand there staring at me or come and join me?” she asks as she puts her shades back on and sprawls her body out on the towel.
I peel off my shirt, reminding myself that she’s my stepsister. But my cock keeps thinking otherwise as I get down to my boxers. She looks up and says, “Superman! Nice.”
Trust me to pick the worst day to wear these boxers. A girl got them for me after claiming that I was like Superman in bed. Fuck, I’m not sharing that story with Karen. Especially when I’m trying so damn hard not to look at her body. Or maybe I could tell her that I’m like Superman in bed.
What's the worst thing that'll happen? She could tell me to fuck off. Then again, she could ask me to show her. What's the likelihood of that fucking happening?
All I know is that she’ll soon realize that she wasted six years on Zach, especially if he always came before she did. I'm guessing that means she probably hasn’t had an orgasm in that long. And with that body? That's a fucking shame.
Fuck, I need to keep myself in check big time.
I’m having too many nasty thoughts.
And every single one of them is about Karen.
3
Karen
“What are you doing here?” I ask him.
I'm trying to make normal conversation because it's no secret that he keeps getting an erection every time he looks at me. He keeps turning around, and he thinks I don't notice.
You'd think that'd make things awkward—watching your stepbrother get a boner by looking at you—but I can't help but feel a jolt of electricity in my core when I look at him too.
He's bigger and more muscular than I remember him. I can even see his shoulders and biceps bulging beneath his t-shirt. And it's clear that the sexual tension between us is so totally off the charts.
I know, he’s my stepbrother.
But it’s like my body doesn’t give a shit. It senses that giant python between his legs and my pussy just wants to swallow it whole.
Yeah, I’m not the super morally pure virgin you may be used to. Sorry.
My heart beats a little faster when I realize that I can’t remember the last time I came. Sure, I've been getting pleasure from my vibes, but it's not the same. I suddenly have the feeling that I deserve more.
I always knew that I would never achieve an orgasm with Zach. Somehow that was okay. That was enough for me back then, when we were together. But now everything is different. He turned everything upside down. I’m officially single, and now I'm on a mission. I want what Zach denied me. I just didn’t expect the first guy I’d want to get it on with to be Colt.
Besides, Zach isn't letting me go easily. He keeps calling and begging me to go back to him. I think that he’s more worried about the vacation that we’ve paid for. Every message ends with, “Does this mean that we’re not going to Barbados?” So yes, he’s definitely worried about the vacation, but honestly, seeing as Rachel was sucking whatever it was that Zach called his cock, he should ask her to go with him instead.
Colt speaks up, breaking up my train of thought. “Daniel said I should come home,” he says to me. “He said that he had something to talk about. I planned on going on vacation with the boys this summer—to Bali actually. So, as long as whatever Daniel has to get off his chest only takes a day or two, I’m willing to listen,” Colt says, as once again his eyes roam over my breasts. I smile because he thinks I don't notice.
And…did I just bounce my tits a little bit for him?
No, I couldn’t have.
Just like I didn’t just openly lick my lips.
“Right, that’s what he said to me, too,” I say, trying to draw attention away from what my body is doing outside of my control almost. “I wonder what’s going on?”
“I haven’t heard from Daniel in months. I was kind of surprised that he contacted me,” Colt shrugs.
“Months?” I ask Colt, realizing that it’s been a while since we’ve caught up. "I thought you came home regularly”.
Personally, I’ve been avoiding coming back here because the memories are too painful. The last time I was here Mom was walking out the door, saying that we shouldn’t bother looking for her. She said it so casually, like someone says they're going to the grocery store. Like it's the most natural thing in the world. I mean, can you imagine?
The memories always come flooding back to me when I come here—to this house. Mom, with a faded, brown leather purse slung over her thin shoulder, a purse I always envied on her. It was a tooled leather purse she once picked up in Mexico with roses carved into it. I imagined her finding it in an open-air flea market. For some reason, my memories of my mother begin and end with that purse.
I don’t know why, but my brain doesn’t seem to process the dark times. Finding Mom passed out in the bathroom. Listening to a lawyer sit down and explain to me that Daniel along with the State of California was freezing Mom’s access to her trust money because she was violating the terms set up by her parents. Hearing Mom yell and scream as she came off her highs and battled withdrawal when she craved a fix. She would yell at Daniel, telling him that he was stealing her money from her.
I remember hiding in the closet as Mom would go off on a tangent.
And then after every episode, it wasn’t Mom that would come check on me.
Daniel would find me in my closet.
“You okay, Karen?” he’d ask stiffly, not used to being around little girls.
I remember nodding my head. And even at that young age wondering how such a great guy never had any kids of his own.
But when I'm not in this house, I don't think about her much anymore. It’s as if she’s out of sight, out of mind; then the moment I step through the door I relive those painful moments all over again. The way she walked out on me—on us.
The day she left, Mom looked as if she was on the road to nowhere. She had lost so much weight and to make matters worse, she kept asking me for money. She even got in the habit of stealing my allowance money. When confronted, she'd swear up and down that it wasn't her. That she loved me and would never do such a thing, but deep down, I always knew it was her. That’s when Daniel made Colt and I sign a Power of Attorney in our names, just so that she couldn't waste our family’s money on drugs. The State of California enforced it and thus gave Mom no more reason to stay at home.
I turn to face Colt, and he’s staring at me. I can feel him undressing me with his eyes, and there's a hunger in his gaze that makes my heart kick hard inside of my chest. I should move and remind him that I’m his stepsister and he shouldn’t be looking at me like that. But I can’t help but enjoy seeing his eyes on me. I can feel my entire body share in his hunger, and before I realize i
t, I'm fucking wet … and not from the pool.
“Why do you keep looking at me like that?” I purr as I start to flirt with him. I'm surprised that I'm being so forward with Colt. Maybe it’s because of Zach's rejection or something, but I love Colt’s attention. And now I'm feeling brave.
He turns on his side to face me, “Because you’re looking so fucking hot these days. It seems that Harvard agrees with you.” As he turns, I can't help but look at the tent in his Superman boxers. I swear, he must be packing a 12-inch cock. I wonder what the story is behind his underwear … I figure there must be one, but I don't want to ask.
But his boxers are just the beginning. He has a Southern California tan that extends evenly across his body and shines golden in the sun, which compliments his sandy blonde hair. With his arms outstretched behind his head, I have a perfect view of his chiseled chest—those pecs, and those perfect 8 squares of muscle rippling down to the sharp V of his groin. I can almost imagine my fingers exploring those ridges.
I always knew he enjoyed surfing, which must account for his muscular frame, but my god, he's definitely changed. He isn't the stepbrother I remember. That's for sure.
I shake my head, and those thoughts, “Not really. It’s been a stressful year. So I’ve been hitting the gym and jogging a lot.”
He laughs and then lies back down on his back.
I throw my sunglass case at him and watch it bounce off his chest. “What are you laughing at?”
“I bet the guys love you," he laughs, flashing his perfect teeth. "Jogging with those assets—I bet you get loads of attention.”
“You know I only had eyes for one guy, and then … well, look how that turned out.”
He sighs. “Sorry about Zach.”
He doesn’t have to say it; I'm not sorry. In a way, it was perfect timing. Just a few days ago, I thought Zach and I would live together forever in some happily ever after fairy tale. That I would be living with him, sleeping with him every night … I resigned myself to never really being satisfied, to a mediocre sex life for what, exactly?
Love?
How was it that I was willing to settle so soon?
And what did it say to me that this relationship which had lasted so long was now over with Zach and I was already eyeing someone?
Yeah, I think you know what it means too, huh? That I was really keeping that relationship alive to spite the naysayers more than anything else. I was doing it because they said it couldn’t be done. That we were rebounds. But now, I almost feel liberated and so free.
And actually, since I shared the pic of Zach on Facebook, there have been several comments. Women are posting that they tolerated it too and when we all compared dates, it seemed as if Zach was sleeping with us all at the same time. So if you ask me, I've just dodged a bullet.
And now here I am, back home and sitting poolside. It's not Barbados, but I'm realizing it's still thrilling. I can’t tell if Colt’s being genuine or not. Is he just fucking with me? I shake that thought away. His hard cock doesn't lie. And one thing's for sure: he never liked Zach. Then again, no one from the family liked him. They tolerated him for my sake because I kept telling them all that we were in love.
Colt even told me one time that Zach wasn’t faithful. I remember shutting him down and telling him that it was none of his business. If only I had listened.
“You heard from your mom?”
Now there’s a subject that we have tended to avoid over the years. Mom used to be my rock.
Well, Rachel used to be my rock too – and look what happened to her.
But Mom was different. She was the one that I would turn to if I ever had a problem. But I saw her changing over the years, especially after she married Daniel. One year into the marriage and she was gone.
“No,” I whisper. I don’t want to talk about Mom. Just like the rest of the family. We have a tendency to sweep things under the carpet, which means that even though she was suffering with her addiction for years, no one rushed to help her. We knew what was happening; we just didn’t want to believe it.
Just then, Colt jumps into the pool; maybe he's trying to lighten the mood because the next thing he does is flick water in my direction, “Are you going to sit there all day staring at me? Or are you going to join me?”
“Why did you do that?" I squeal. I'm tired; I came out here to sunbathe, and now he's trying to drag me into the pool.
He ignores me and keeps spraying water in my direction. I could move, but I’m enjoying it. Especially when I move out of the way of the water and I notice that my tits are practically coming out of my bikini top. I’m tempted to take it off. Maybe I should say fuck it, and throw caution to the wind.
“Colt! You want me to come in?”
He laughs, “What do you think?”
That's all it takes. I run and jump into the water; not the best move, especially because I feel as if I may have strained my ankle by doing so. But I need this; I need something to take my mind off of Zach. Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea to just stay around here during the summer and not bother going anywhere else. After all, Zach has pretty much blown up my summer travel plans. And there's something about Colt that's making me feel something I haven't felt in a long time.
“You know, if that bikini top of yours is too restrictive … you could always take it off.”
I splash water in his direction and then swim a little closer until our faces are inches apart, a devilish smile forming on my lips. He looks at me and we lock gazes.
Then I hear a sound, like a stifled cough. I look up and see Daniel standing at the edge of the pool. He's in a tailored suite and it looks like he's come straight from work.
"Well, look who decided to show up," Colt says. I can tell he's annoyed to see Daniel.
"It looks to me like you two are getting along just fine without me," Daniel smirks, pulling up a chair.
"Based on your messages, it sounded urgent. I rushed here, and here you are, taking your sweet time," Colt continues. "Was this some kind of a joke? I was on my way to Bali; I hope you have a good reason for holding me back."
"Look, I'm sure you two have lots of big plans this summer, but before any of that happens, we need to have a serious talk," Daniel says. I watch as he cracks open a beer and pours it into a pint glass. He takes a serious sip and when he pulls his mouth away from the glass, I notice a bit of the beer's foam clinging to his upper lip. I imagine walking up to him, wrapping my arms around his broad shoulders and slowly licking the foam off, carefully dragging my tongue over his contours, and then tracing one finger along his lips and cheeks. Oh god, why did that image just creep into my brain? What's come over me? First, it's my stepbrother, and now it's my stepfather. Either I've been starved for real sex for too long, or this Southern California sun has fried my brain.
4
Daniel
Just when I think that life can’t get any worse, I’m proven wrong.
Sometimes life feels like one giant poker game and you never know what kind of hand you're going to be dealt. Will it be a royal flush today, or will you be left scrambling to match a single pair?
Do you see what I mean? There's no fucking telling.
And if you don't believe me, let me paint you a picture.
My first wife, Linda, used to complain about stomach pains and we thought that it was her bad diet. So we threw ourselves into a healthy lifestyle—diet, exercise, the whole thing. We joined a gym and worked out together. You know how they say that dieting and exercising in pairs is better than doing it alone? Well, we thought it was a good approach… until we learned it wasn't enough.
A visit to the doctor showed that it was worse than that. A simple diet couldn’t fix her problem. She had stomach cancer. That's what you call one bad hand of poker. But I took care of her until the bitter end.
Because I’m Daniel Morgan and that’s what Daniel Morgan does. He takes care of people.
I tried to take care of Colt. It was a bit tricky, I'll admit; the
boy had lost both his dad and his mom in the space of five years. Also, I had limited exposure to kids before that. So, I had no fucking idea what I was doing, but we made it work, and in those days he used to call me Dad. I mean, I was never really his father and Linda didn’t think it was necessary to make me his guardian in any way when we got married - just because he was already so close to 18. And you know what? We had a great relationship, and even though he wasn’t my son, I treated him as my own.
Years later, a mutual friend invited me to a party and that was how I met Clara. A few dates later and there I was, falling hard for her. I knew I had to marry her. Clara was charming, a flirt, and she had a sense of adventure. Not to mention she had a sexy swagger that made my heart gallop. She drove me crazy in the best possible way.
In a sense, she was Linda's complete opposite. Maybe that was the reason why I was drawn to her, but it all came at a price, I realized she wasn't high on life; she was high on an opioid addiction traveling at 100 miles per hour.
Those days were difficult. But as hard as they were on me, they must have been brutal for both Colt and Karen.
It almost felt like as Clara came into the picture, Colt began to grow distant. Whatever we had built up through our shared loss began to be forgotten. Almost like Colt felt I was betraying his mother’s memory. When that wasn’t the case. At all.
You're probably wondering why I'm even telling you this. The point is, I just want to show that in a lifetime of constantly having the rug pulled out from under me, I’ve sworn off women. Let's just say that there isn't another set of wedding bells in my future. That part of my life is over.
These last few years, I've invested every ounce of myself into my business. Now it feels as if life is back, throwing me another curve ball. Things are taking a turn for the worse, and the business is losing money. My goal is to keep it solvent.
