by Hart, Lane
I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t for him to get on his knees before me with his coverall unzipped to his sexy belly button.
“Fuck, you drive me out of my goddamn mind.” I can’t tell if he means that in a good or bad way. Glancing up at me, he says, “Your panties are ruined too,” then places the cool damp cloth to the elastic band at my hip and scrubs it, causing me to shiver.
“I don’t care, I have plenty of other panties.”
“We could try to wash them both with Clorox. There’s a machine in the back.”
“Yeah, whatever,” I quickly agree.
“I’ll delete the surveillance video before anyone sees it,” he assures me, like I give a shit about the security cameras when his face is inches away from my pussy.
“Okay,” I reply, just to say something instead of standing frozen like a nervous statute.
I gasp when Winston’s fingers suddenly hook inside the band and tug my panties down my legs and over each of my heels so I’m standing in front of him, naked, other than the wrinkled dress pressed to my chest.
Before I can start to feel embarrassed, I realize Winston hasn’t yet moved because he’s still looking at me…intently.
Muttering another curse, he starts scrubbing roughly at my left hip then my right. A trickle of moisture from the towel runs down, so very close to my pussy.
“It’s not coming off,” he grumbles. And when he moves closer to rub harder, I can feel the heat from his breath right between my legs.
“Th-that’s okay,” I assure him.
“No, it’s not. Turn around,” he demands, so I do, presenting my bare bottom to him. Nothing happens for several seconds but then the rag is cleaning the small of my back where he first touched me to spin me around. Gradually though, Winston moves lower and lower to where I know he didn’t touch me with his hands, not that I’m complaining. I’m burning up all over and the towel is cool and refreshing until he swipes it down the crack of my ass, making my knees go so weak I have to brace one of my palms on the work bench.
I have no freaking clue what Winston is doing to me, or why, after years of barely looking at me or speaking to me, he is finally treating me like a woman. All I know is that I don’t ever want him to stop.
Chapter Two
Winston
I’ve always thought Zoe was beautiful, even when we first met.
I was sixteen but she was just a thirteen-year-old kid back then. I couldn’t ever put my finger on what it was about her that was so visually appealing right off the bat. Her face was just classically pretty. She’s the type of person who walks into a crowded room and everyone can’t help but look at her. I think part of her appeal was how she held her head high, stood tall, confident in herself and her above-average height, even back then. Zoe’s long, ash brown hair with a few blonde strands, always looks somewhere between windblown and perfect. Her swollen lips never stop smiling, like she’s afraid a camera may snap. And then there are her emerald green eyes, which are constantly sparkling whenever they look at me, like she knows all my innermost secrets so it’s futile for me to try to hide them from her. Keeping my hands off her for five years has been the hardest thing I’ve ever done.
Tonight, though, having her walk into the garage and take her dress off in front of me, she’s the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. I can’t resist her any longer.
My first instinct was to cover her up and send her on her way before someone saw her here or she gave the security cameras a show.
But then, I couldn’t stop looking at her or touching her, which is exactly what she fucking wanted to happen when she pulled this stunt and then yanked the zipper down on my coveralls. Now I’m on my knees, rubbing at invisible grease stains on her ass, unable to stop my hand from moving lower.
She wants me to want her. I’ve known that for years.
The problem was never me wanting her, because god knows I did. The problem was that I refused to give in and be the dirty pervert who takes advantage of his younger stepsister’s crush.
Zoe’s eighteen now, though, legally an adult who can make her own decisions, even if they’re bad ones—like traveling around the world on her own with a shady modeling competition.
It suddenly hits me that if her dad won’t do it, maybe I can convince her to stay if I finally give her what she wants—me. Sure, it’s fucked up and I feel guilty for even considering it. But I’m too far gone to stop now that she’s standing in front of me, completely naked.
Tomorrow, I’ll worry about what happens after we cross this line, after she misses her plane to Paris in the morning because I’m still buried inside of her. I’m sure she’ll be disappointed, but she’ll be here, safe with me, instead of who the fuck knows where.
I swipe the towel right over Zoe’s smooth mound, pressing up into her folds and making her gasp before I tell her, “Spread your legs wider.”
“L-like this?” She’s so subservient she doesn’t hesitate for even a second before she widens her stance. The girl would literally do anything if it leads to me touching her, which I’m fucking counting on tomorrow.
“Wider,” I command. “Now lean forward and push your ass out. That’s it,” I say when she thrusts her behind right into my face. I place a wet kiss on one of her perfect, round cheeks and then the other before running my tongue over her asshole and down lower to her pussy.
“Oh god,” she moans as her thighs tremble from that small taste of her honey.
“I’m probably going to hell for this, but it’ll be worth it for a taste of heaven,” I tell her before I have to go back for more.
Pressing my nose into her crease, I flick my tongue over her clit, ripping a strangled cry from her mouth. She’s still sucking in air when I drive my tongue through her slit a few times, a little deeper with each pass before focusing on her clit again.
The angle isn’t quite right though, to really attack her swollen bundle of nerves that needs my attention, especially since I’m trying not to touch her with my dirty hands.
Zoe’s legs are so long and spread so far apart, I’m able to slip underneath them to turn around, placing my back to the work bench so I can suck her clit between my lips.
“Oh my god!” she exclaims as her hips roll and dip toward my mouth.
“Is this what you fucking wanted…when you came in here…and took your dress off?” I look up and ask while alternating between flicks of my tongue and sucking on her clit.
“Yes!” she adamantly agrees, finally letting go of the dress she’s been clutching to her chest.
I know she’s getting close to coming when she lets go of the work bench to thread her fingers through my hair, fisting a handful and shamelessly shoving my face toward her cunt. I could stay down here eating her pussy for days. But a few seconds later, Zoe’s thighs lock and then tremble as she gets off. Her juices flood my tongue and I lap them up, thirsty for more.
The fingers in my hair pull my head back and then tug me upward to my feet.
Zoe’s hands are frantic as she unzips my coveralls the rest of the way while pushing the material down my arms until they’re hanging from my hips. When she shoves her hand down the front to find my cock, I grab the sides of her face to pull her mouth to mine, plunging my tongue past her lips, no longer caring if I get her dirty. We’re past that point now. Before the night is over, she’ll be filthy from head to fucking toe.
Unlike most women, Zoe’s not gentle with my shaft. She gives my girth a hard squeeze and strokes it in her tight fist. It’s some much-needed relief but not nearly enough.
“Fuck,” I moan, breaking our kiss when she jerks me off so good that my cock weeps. “You’ve done this before, haven’t you?”
“A few times,” she answers, which is a relief but also a disappointment.
“Who the hell with?” I find myself asking aloud, going through the list of guys she’s dated before shaking my head. “Forget it. Don’t tell me. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life in prison
for murder.”
“Wow,” Zoe says, her green eyes widening. “Now I know the secret to getting you to talk to me—put my hand on your dick.” She glances down at my swollen cock with her fingers locked around it and then back up at my face. “Wonder what would happen if I put my mouth on it?”
“Fuuuck,” I groan as I squeeze my eyes shut to let that image sink in.
“Winston?” Zoe asks.
“Yeah?” I choke out the word and look down at her when she starts rubbing my cockhead over her wet pussy lips.
“Will you fuck me but, um, finish in my mouth?”
She licks her thick sexy lips as if I need any motivation to accept that offer.
Reaching around, I grab her ass, lifting her up with a cheek in each hand to get us over to the nearest, mostly clean, hard surface, which happens to be the trunk of the Camaro I was working on. Before Zoe is flat on her back, I’m thrusting balls deep inside of her. She cries out and winces, like it hurts to take all of my cock in her tight cunt. And I’m a sick fuck because I like the sound of her pain. Not a lot, just enough to pay her back for the years of pain she’s caused me—the hours of blue balls whenever I had to be around her until I could finally give myself some relief or find it in another, nameless, faceless woman’s body. I’ve been hurting so bad for her, so it’s only fair she hurts for me too.
I’m not a complete sadist, at least not yet, so I plant my palms on either side of her head and hold still, letting Zoe’s pussy stretch for me. It’s hot and wet and so perfect, even better than I dreamed.
“You sure you’re not a virgin?” I ask when she finally blinks her eyes open. “Your pussy’s awfully tight.”
“You’re…awfully…big,” she responds with a small grin.
“Just wait until I’m fucking this mouth of yours,” I warn her as I rub my stained thumb over her bottom lip and then shove it inside. “Show me how good you’re going to suck me.”
Zoe’s cheeks hollow as she licks and sucks my thumb so hard my eyes roll back in my head and my dick twitches, eager to get his turn.
“Good girl.” I pull my thumb free and then slip it between our bodies, right on her swollen clit. As soon as I give it a few strokes, I can feel Zoe’s body relax around my cock as her eyelids grow heavy. “You ready now?” I ask her as I remove my thumb.
“Yes,” she answers with a sigh as she throws her arms above her head, looking like a goddamn pinup girl begging to get fucked dirty.
Pushing myself up off of her, I grip either side of her hips to pull back and then slam inside her again and again.
Zoe’s eyes close and her lips part on a wordless scream as I move inside of her faster, harder, with each and every thrust, taking years of sexual frustration out on her delicious body.
Just when I think I can’t last any longer, Zoe’s back arches up off the hood and then her hands are flailing, looking for something to hold on to, before they land on her tits. She clutches them as her cunt squeezes my dick.
Gritting my teeth, I enjoy every second of her body trying its best to milk me for as long as I can before I finally make myself pull out and take a step back before I wait too long.
Zoe’s thighs fall open and she whimpers at the loss.
“Shove your fingers in your cunt and get on your knees,” I growl at her because it’s not like I wanted to pull out before she finished coming. If I had my way, I would’ve shot my load inside her pussy and let her clenching walls suck me dry.
Zoe melts wordlessly down the bumper of the car until she’s kneeling with her mouth open wide in front of me, her fingers pumping inside of her. She’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen, looking so eager and horny for me to fuck her beautiful face.
Grabbing the back of her head with one hand, I fist the base of my cock in the other and feed it past her lips until the underside is stroking her tongue.
“Fuck!” I shout up to the ceiling at how good she feels. I can’t decide which I like fucking better—her mouth or pussy. When Zoe’s moan vibrates up my shaft, oral takes the top spot. Slowly, I push deeper, forcing her to take more until the back of her head hits the car and I have her trapped. That’s when I start slow, shallow thrusts, stopping only when she gags before pulling back and doing it again and again.
Rather than try to push me away, Zoe grabs the backs of my thighs and pulls me closer.
“Goddammit, Zoe!” I exclaim. “You’re too fucking good at this. I want to cut off every dick that’s been in your sexy mouth and thank them at the same time.”
Her head bobs faster and faster without my prompting until my balls are pulled up so tight to my body they may explode if I don’t come soon. At the same time, it’s so good I don’t want it to ever end.
The decision is made for me when Zoe lets go of my backside to lower one of her hands between her legs again. I watch the ecstasy overcome her face as she rides her fingers and then I’m falling headfirst into my own pleasure. My entire body shudders so hard I nearly stumble before catching myself on the trunk of the car. Jets of cum coat Zoe’s throat as she drinks me down until I pull out of her mouth, sated but wanting to do it all over again.
She blinks her emerald eyes up at me, wanting me to say something now that it’s over, needing my approval, waiting for my next set of directions.
“You want to go back to my place?” Fuck, I don’t know where the hell that question came from. All I know is that I want to take her to my bed tonight.
“Yes.”
“You would do anything I asked you to do, wouldn’t you, Zo?” I ask when I swipe my thumb over her glistening lips.
“Yes,” she answers softly.
The most fucked up thing is that I would do anything for her too because, well…because I fucking love her.
I love her so damn much I know I’m going to have to let her go tomorrow despite how badly I wish she would stay with me.
Chapter Three
Zoe
Being with Winston is just as rough and amazing as I expected it to be.
And while the sex was great, as soon as it was over, I could see the regret in his dark eyes when he was looking down at me. I thought for sure he would freak out, say we made a huge mistake, and tell me to go home and forget anything happened.
But he didn’t.
Winston asked me to come back to his place with him.
I was so shocked and overwhelmed I barely remember putting on my dirty dress, the ride on his motorcycle to get to his apartment, or the shower we took together where he scrubbed me raw with his woodsy-scented body wash before wrapping me in a towel and carrying me into his unmade bed.
The moon is the only light in the room when Winston climbs in beside me and pulls the covers over us, but I can see his profile and know he’s lying on his back, eyes open, staring up at the ceiling.
“Is this what you do with all your dates? Fuck them, wash them, and tuck them into bed?”
“Pretty much,” he answers, with as few words as possible. Which sucks because I thought he was finally starting to open up to me when he basically admitted he was jealous of the other guys I’ve been with.
Not that I’ve been all the way with any of them. Sure, I’ve fooled around here and there with the guys I’ve dated, but Winston was my first. If I had told him I was a virgin, he would’ve put a stop to what we were doing, what I’ve wanted for so long from the beautiful, grumpy man—for him to finally see me as more than a kid.
Now that I’m in his bed, I plan to make the most of it. Rolling onto my side to face him, I let my fingertips trail over the swell of his biceps, back and forth over his warm, smooth skin, just because I can. Eventually, I hear Winston release a heavy exhale. I brace myself for him to tell me to stop touching him and go to sleep, but instead, he throws his arm around my shoulders and pulls me closer to him so I can rest my cheek on his chest with him holding me to his side. Then it’s his fingers that are gliding up and down my upper arm soothingly while mine explore the dips and hills of his hard abs.
There are so many questions in my head, like what happens now that we’ve slept together, what does it mean, does Winston regret it. But instead of delving into any of those deep questions, I simply ask, “Do you always sleep naked?”
“Yes.”
“Even when you lived at home?”
“That’s why I kept my door locked at night,” he says, finally giving me more than a one syllable answer. “Didn’t want you or Mom barging in and seeing my ass or cock hanging out of the covers.”
“Or my dad,” I add with a grin as I imagine him walking in on Winston naked.
“Martin was smart enough to never bust in without knocking first. You and Mom never would, no matter how many times I asked.”
“True,” I agree since that’s a fair assessment. I think I did it in the hope of catching him without clothes on. It sucked when he moved out two years ago. The house was somehow colder without him there to tease and annoy all the time. He would come over to visit his mom some on the weekend, but never stayed very long before leaving again. He always claimed he had some car or motorcycle to work on.
As my fingernails trace up and down his treasure trail, I listen to the steady rhythm of Winston’s heart beating under my ear. It’s so soothing that I know it’ll put me to sleep soon but I’m not ready for this night to end. Since I’m too sore to have him inside of me again, I try to get him to keep talking.
“Why do you like working on cars?” I ask since he spends all his free time in the garage. It’s more than a job to him, it’s like his passion.
“Because I like helping people and I’m good at it,” Winston replies. “No matter what the problem is, I can always figure it out and fix it eventually.”
“So, it’s rewarding?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
