Auctioned on Valentine's Day: A Second Chance Stepbrother Romance

by Amy Brent

  “Is that the ‘what’s your vagina thinking’ book?” I asked as he handed back the glass, now full to the rim with champagne bubbles. I knew the name Wynn Driver well. While doing my homework on Holden Moss, Driver’s name kept coming up with the women Holden had slept with. It seemed the two hunky psyche professors were not only best friends and colleagues, but had spent a considerable amount of time fucking the same women, often at the same time. I wondered if I would ever be so lucky as to be scotched between them with their cocks inside me at the same time. Sigh… a girl could dream…

  I held up a hand to slow down the conversation. “Okay, so let’s say my nymphomania is not real, that I’m really just a horny young woman who acts on her sexual urges. What about my other issue?”

  His eyebrows knitted above his blue eyes. “What other issue is that?”

  “My desire to be teacher’s pet,” I said coyly, my eyes going dreamy, staring into his.

  He blinked at me with the glass at his lips. “Teacher’s pet?”

  “I have always had a very strong attraction—an overwhelming attraction, even—to teachers.”

  “You have?”

  “Yes, I have,” I said seriously, though my insides were merrily churning from the look on his face. “I seduced and slept with several teachers in high school, and have slept with at least one professor per year since I’ve been at college. Some of the sex has just been once or twice, but one was a long-term relationship that lasted almost an entire year.”

  He narrowed his eyes at me. “You’ve slept with professors all through college? You mean, professors at this college?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  He set the glass on the counter and leaned back against the sink again with his arms folded over his chest. “You’ve had sex, or affairs, with other professors here at Midwestern University?”

  “Of course, I have,” I huffed. “I’ve been here four years, you know.”

  “Please tell me Professor Markle was not one of them,” Holden said with a careful smile. “That’s an image I could never get out of my head.”

  “No, as fucked up as I am, I have never had the desire to sleep with Professor Markle.” I smiled at him again from over the champagne glass. “And no, I will not name names, so don’t ask.”

  “Wait a second… are you the one… did you… did you fuck Keith Calloway in the pool at the natatorium?”

  He asked the question and let his mouth hang open waiting for an answer that did not come. He had undoubtedly heard that Professor Calloway had taken an extended sabbatical after being caught screwing a student by his wife and campus security. That student had managed to remain anonymous. I was not about to change that now.

  I gave him a hard look. “Are we gonna talk all night or are we gonna fuck?” I asked, holding up my wrist and tapping a nail to my watch crystal. “Because I have to tell you, the evening is really starting to drag on and I’d hate to have to go home and satisfy myself.”

  He frowned for a moment, then smiled when I smiled.

  “Wow, how have we never hooked up before this?” he asked. He lifted the lid off the pot and tasted the sauce again. He switched off the heat and stirred the sauce as he stared at me. “You’ve been here four years, I’ve been here that entire time. Why have we never hooked up before?”

  There were two plates on the counter. I set them out and reached for the pot of pasta that had been warming on the stove eye next to the sauce. I shrugged as I helped each plate.

  “Simple. It wasn’t your turn.”

  The look on his face was priceless. Holden’s mouth dropped open and his eyebrows arched. He shook his head like he was coming out of a dream. “I’m sorry, did you say it wasn’t my turn?”

  “It wasn’t your turn,” I said firmly. “Because I had never taken one of your classes. You teach grad level classes. Now, I’m at grad level, I’m in your class, so it’s your turn.”

  “Ah…” he sighed, nodding slowly. “So, I’m your grad school crush?”

  “You’re my grad school crush,” I said with a smile. “My freshman year, I slept with freshman professors. Sophomore year, sophomore professors. And so on. Now that I’m in grad school, well, Professor Moss, whether you like it or not, you are next on my list.”

  “Wow, I’ve never been on a nympho’s list before,” Holden said, his face playfully conflicted. “I’m not sure if I should be honored or insulted.”

  “Either way, you get to fuck me for the entire semester if you’re a good boy,” I said. “You are the teacher and I am your pet. You teach, I obey. And maybe you learn something along the way. Simple as that.”

  “Simple as that, my dear pet?” he repeated, his voice low, husky, full of steam.

  “Yes, my dear teacher. Simple as that.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT: Holden

  I took one look at the gorgeous woman sitting across the kitchen island and decided that dinner could wait. I lifted off the lid long enough to dip a finger in the sauce and came around the island with the finger held up between us. Jude smiled because she immediately knew what I was doing. There would be plenty of time for food later. But first, a little fun.

  “Care for a taste?” I asked again, stepping toward her with a devious grin on my face and a raging hard on in my pants. I had never met a woman who could get me hard as a freakin’ rock just from a conversation about clinical psychology, but Jude had managed to do exactly that.

  Sparring words with her, seeing her eyes light up, hearing the passion in her voice, all told me one thing: this was not a woman I would fuck and forget. This was a woman I would fuck time and time again and remember the rest of my life. I somehow knew that a bond was being forged this night, though neither of us probably had a clue just how deep that bond would eventually go.

  Jude swiveled the barstool toward me and spread her legs so I could move in close. The mini dress rode up her thighs until I could see the red panties she wore. Her hands went first to the buttons of my shirt. She took her time with the buttons, teasing me with her eyes. She slid her hands inside my shirt, going first to my chest and hard nipples, then sliding around my waist to pull me close. She tucked her hands inside the back of my pants and gave my bare ass a squeeze. She glanced down at the huge bulge in the front of my linen pants and hummed.

  “I’d prefer to taste your cock,” she said, licking her lips, her eyes staring at me with a hunger we shared.

  “That can be arranged, but first, this,” I said, holding up the sauce-covered finger to her lips. She wrapped her lips around the finger and sucked away the sauce, then sucked the finger all the way in up to the knuckle, her lips milking the finger as if she was sucking on my cock. I felt myself swelling in my pants, my cock growing so hard it was aching to be set free. She dug her sharp nails into the muscles of my ass.

  “Mmmm… that is good,” she said, licking her lips, staring deeply into my eyes. She tilted her head back and stuck out her tongue. “Want a taste?”

  “I would love a taste,” I said, leaning down to press my lips gently to hers. Her tongue came out to play, swirling around my lips, darting in and out of my mouth, searching for my tongue. When our tongues met, sparks of electricity shot through my body as if I’d stuck my cock into a light socket, lightning coursing through every muscle, racing through my body from head to toe. Jude’s fingers dug harder into my ass. She slid her ass to the front of the chair as my fingers worked their way up her thighs, hiking up the short dress to her waist, my fingertips like heat-seeking missiles searching for a hot, wet target in which to land.

  My thumbs came together at her pussy, which was covered by what turned out to be a lacey thong. I slid my fingers down the crotch and could feel her moist pussy lips hugging the thong between them. She was gushing like a stream from a hot spring. The crotch of the thong was soaked. I pulled it to one side so my fingers could rub between her pussy lips without the thong getting in the way.

  “Oh… that… feels… really… good,” she sighed into my mouth
as my fingers slid inside her juicy pussy. She slid closer to the edge of the barstool until her pussy was hanging off the edge, giving me perfect access in which to slide my stiff fingers in and out as she playfully bit my bottom lip.

  “Your pussy… is so… fucking hot… so… fucking wet…” I moaned, sliding two fingers inside her all the way to the knuckle as my thumb rolled over her round clit. “I want to taste your pussy… I want to suck your juices down my throat… I want to taste you on my tongue… now…”

  Jude pulled her head back and smiled. She let go of my ass long enough to reach around to the back of the dress and slide the zipper down. When she did, her big tits popped free. I heard myself sigh heavily when I saw them. The selfie she had sent flashing her tits did not do them justice. Jude’s tits were large but firm, milky white with pink freckles across the top. Her areolas were pink and round, her nipples long, plump, like two watermelon gumdrops waiting to be sucked.

  “Let me get this off,” she said, putting her hands on my chest to push me back for a moment. I reluctantly let my fingers slide from her pussy and stood sucking her juices off them as she got to her feet to let the dress slide to the floor.

  “God, you’re beautiful,” I said, my eyes literally popping at the perfection of her body. Big tits, narrow waist, round hips, long legs that tapered into a perfect pair of ankles. When she slid the thong down her legs, showing off her clean-shaven pussy, and kicked the stilettos off. Just watching her caused a little juice to ooze from the tip of my cock.

  Jude climbed back onto the stool, folded her hands over her breasts, and cocked an eyebrow at me. “Now you, my teacher. Get those fucking clothes off. Let me see that huge monster that’s trying to burst out of your pants.”

  I smiled as I slowly let the silk shirt slide down my arms and tossed it way. Jude’s eyes swept over my muscled torso. I worked my ass off to stay in shape and probably packed more muscle than most of the younger college boys. It paid off because so far, I thought she liked what she saw.

  She leaned back and spread her legs again. Her pink pussy glistened with the juices still flowing freely from deep inside her. I could smell her scent in the air; salty, pungent, wonderful. With her eyes glued to the bulge in the front of my pants, Jude started rubbing her pussy with her fingers, sliding them up and down between the lips, getting them wet, then rolling them across her clit.

  “You’d better hurry,” she said, her breath husky. “I might cum without you.”

  “Cum all you want,” I said as I tugged my belt loose and undid my pants. “I’ll catch up, no worries.”

  Jude’s left hand came up to her breast as her right hand continued rubbing her pussy. She took the nipple between her thumb and forefinger and squeezed until it turned dark, then she playfully tugged the nipple an inch from her breast.

  “Ohh…” she moaned, tugging, squeezing, fingers of the other hand sliding up and down, from side to side. “Hurry, Holden… let me see your cock… please… hurry…”

  I hooked my thumbs into the waistband of the pants and the boxers I wore underneath. I had to tug the pants out in the front to get them over my stiff cock. When my pants slid down my legs my cock sprang out like a stiff arm, ten-inches long, girthy and veiny and ready to party. The head looked like a crimson balloon so full it was ready to pop.

  “Oh… my…” Jude sighed, eyes going dreamy at the sight of my cock. She licked her lips and spread her legs even more. She started sliding four fingers inside herself while her thumb remained working on her clit, which was swollen like a hot pink pencil eraser.

  I wrapped my fingers around my cock and started stroking back and forth, slowly, working the blood through the shaft to the head. I squeezed when my fingers neared the head. Drops of precum juices oozed from the slit.

  “Yes…” she said, her mouth hanging open. “Play with yourself for a minute… pump that big cock, Holden… don’t make yourself cum… just watch me… and stroke… stroke…”

  I smiled and did as commanded. Normally, I was the one in charge, the alpha male, the man with the plan. But watching Jude fingerfuck herself with one hand while she squeezed her nipple with the other was simply too good to pass up. I steadied my breathing and let me hand work my cock. I used my left hand to tweak my balls as my right hand pumped the shaft.

  “Yes… that’s… oh… yes…” Jude’s eyes were focused on my cock, following the movement of my hand back and forth, back and forth. Her fingers kept working her pussy, faster now, deeper, four fingers, in and out, faster, faster. Her mouth hung open. Her tongue came out to slide across her bottom lip and hang there. She was going to make herself cum. I could see it in her eyes.

  “Make yourself cum, my pet,” I said, licking my lips, breathing in and out slowly to keep my own orgasm at bay. I had no desire to shoot my load all over my hand. I might enjoy that later when I was alone, recalling our night together, but not at that moment. No, I wanted to cum inside Jude’s pussy. And in her mouth. And in her ass. And on her tits. And on her face. I would not waste a drop of my seed this night. Not with this amazing woman so ready to take every ounce for herself.

  “Oh… fuck…” Jude squealed, her eyes fluttering shut as her hand increased its intensity on her pussy. I glanced down and nearly blew my load when I saw that her hand was covered in oily juices and she was literally gushing in the chair. For a moment, I thought she was peeing, but then I realized that Jude was a gusher, and quite possible could be a squirter with the right hand to guide her. God, I loved it when a woman squirted on me. Most men do. Maybe that was a fetish we’d talk about in class. I made a mental note that we would pursue that topic later on.

  “Cum for me, Jude,” I ordered, resisting the urge to move closer to shove my cock inside her steaming pussy. Her hands worked in unison on her breasts and her cunt. She closed her eyes and leaned back and moaned toward the ceiling.

  “Fuck… yes… yes… yes… yes…”

  The orgasm rocked her body and nearly knocked her off the stool.

  She shuddered from head to toe.

  She brought her knees up and clenched them together and curled her toes.

  She squealed as she came, her right hand still buried deep inside her.

  I nearly came, as well but caught myself at the last moment and loosened my grip on my cock. I waited until the spasms stopped rocking through her body, then stepped in and put my arms around her. She rested her forehead on my chest and blew out a long, satisfied sigh.

  “That was just the entrée,” I said, my lips at her ear. “Let’s go into the bedroom for the main course.”

  CHAPTER NINE: Jude

  I had made myself cum thousands of times, but never while watching a man like Holden Moss stroke his own cock. Holden’s cock was long, thick, the head purple and swollen. Little drops of joy-juice oozed from the slit each time his hand squeezed toward the head. His muscled chest and washboard abs rippled as he moved, the muscles in his arms flexing as the blood pumped through them with every stroke.

  I was ramming four fingers in and out of my wet box, and my thumb was working my clit like a vibrator. When I popped my cork, I came so hard I nearly fell off the stool. Holden caught me and pulled me close as I struggled to catch my breath. Then he suggested we continue our fun in the bedroom, which I thought was a splendid idea.

  Holden scooped me up with the ease of picking up a rag doll. I looped my arms around his neck and bit at his jawline as he carried me down the hall and into the bedroom.

  Holden kicked open the door and toted me inside without breaking a sweat. He set me on the edge of the bed long enough to switch on the bedside lamp.

  “Nice,” I said, lying back propped on my elbows, glancing around the bedroom. It was large, neat, and the bed was king-sized, big enough for several people. There was a door to a closet and another to the master bath. I spread out on the bed and rubbed my hands against the comforter. “Such a big bed, Professor Moss. Do you sleep here all alone?”

  “Sometimes,” he s
aid with a smile as he lay down beside me with his cock standing in the air like the mast of a great ship. “Sometimes I have friends sleep over.”

  He held out his arm and I rolled into him with my lips finding his hard nipple and my hand finding his hard cock. He sighed as my tongue teased his nipple and my fingers slid up and down over the rigid shaft. “My, Professor Moss, what a big dick you have.”

  “The better to fuck you with, my pet,” he said with a heavy sigh.

  “Mmmm… that sounds delightful,” I said, my lips biting their way up his neck. “But first…”

  I let go of Holden’s cock and climbed on top of him in the sixty-nine position with my dripping pussy hovering over his mouth and my lips hovering over the head of his cock. I held the shaft and licked away the juices that were oozing from his slit.

  “I love the way you think,” he said, bringing his hands up to my ass to pull my pussy down to his lips. The moment his hot tongue touched my clit, my body shuddered and I gushed all over his face. Holden hummed happily and lapped up the warm juices like a starving kitten.

  “I have to warn you,” I said, his cock in one hand and his balls in the other. I glanced down between my tits to grin at him. He was licking my juices from his lips. “I’m a bit of a squirter. Hope you have plenty of towels.”

  “Don’t you worry,” Holden said, smiling with my juices glistening on his cheeks. He flexed his lower ab muscles and his cock bounced in my hand. “I’m a bit of a squirter myself.”