by Sybil Ling
Blair moves his head, tilting it down, and Emily thinks that he wants to say something to her so she looks up, bending her neck to do so. As she does she sees Blair come into view, his perfect lips appearing before her. Their eyes lock together and they freeze, still holding onto one another. Emily’s breath is stopped, and she can see the intensity in Blair’s brilliant blue eyes, keeping her pinned, standing right where she is.
Emily swallows.
“Blair …” she says, her voice sounding more breathy than usual.
But Blair slowly lowers his head down and whatever Emily was going to say is forever gone as their lips come together in a kiss. Emily’s eyes close and she feels herself being pulled closer to her stepbrother’s firm body. He holds onto her tighter, breathing in deeply through his nose. His lips part and hers follow suit, their tongues meeting together, dancing around one another in a lover’s embrace.
Emily’s head is swimming. She can’t believe this is happening. She slides her hands up and down on Blair’s back and can feel his t-shirt riding up, exposing the smooth skin of his lower back. She touches him there and a thrill runs down her spine, to the space between her legs. She hears Blair moan softly through his nose and she runs her hand up his bare back, moaning in reply. Their bodies pull together even closer.
Blair’s hands slide down to Emily’s pyjama pants and he grabs onto her thick, round ass. She shivers with excitement as he squeezes her, but she lets out a yelp of surprise when he lifts her up with ease. Emily’s legs instinctively wrap around Blair and she can feel his hardness pressing into her through his jeans, just barely touching her clit and making her want more.
Blair carries her over to the side of the car and pushes her up against it, Emily’s feet off the ground as her back presses into the top of the door. They continue to kiss, Emily’s hands moving freely now over Blair’s back, sliding around to his chest where she feels his hard pecs, his muscular sides.
Pushing his lower body harder into Emily and pinning her where she is, Blair takes his hands from around her back and grabs onto the bottom of her t-shirt. Emily lifts her arms and feels the soft fabric being stripped from her body. Her eyes are closed, but before she can open them she feels Blair’s warm mouth latch itself to one of her breasts, sucking it in hard and making her cry out in pleasure.
His tongue moves like a sex-driven serpent; his hands grab onto the skin of her back and pull, squeeze, scratch. Emily grabs onto the back of Blair’s head and she throws her head back, her pussy throbbing and radiating with heat. She can feel Blair grinding into her, his hard cock rubbing up against her belly, teasing her clit with what’s yet to come.
He tightens his grip on her and hoists her up a bit more, bringing her head just above his, the end of his hardness pressing right up between her legs. Emily’s breath catches in her throat as she feels her stepbrother’s cock grind against her, bringing her wetness out and making her cheeks flush with passion.
“Oh, Blair,” Emily whispers above his head. “Oh God, are we really doing this?”
Blair doesn’t answer with words. Instead his hands move down to the bottoms of Emily’s thighs. She feels his fingers follow her curves, wrapping around her thick legs, before suddenly grabbing onto the taut fabric and ripping the crotch of her pyjama pants open.
Emily gasps as she feels the warm air of the garage caress the insides of her thighs, and the wet spot against her panties. Blair’s hands move down and she hears him fumble with something — something that sounds like a buckle being undone, and a zipper being pulled down. Just then his cock, hard and throbbing, is pressing up against the bare skin of her thighs and Emily’s heart skips several beats in a row.
She feels Blair rub himself against her, his stiff rod sliding in the wet fabric of her soaked panties, and then his fingers pull the useless things to the side and she’s revealed to him, her swollen self practically dripping in bittersweet anticipation.
Blair pulls his mouth from her breast just as the head of his cock nestles itself against her wet lips. She feels him pulsing against her and it’s all she can do not to scream for him to fuck her. His eyes lift up and meet hers, the two looking at each other. His face wears an expression that Emily’s never seen before: it’s not one of anger, or annoyance, and it’s not one of passion, or desire. It’s something else, entirely.
But before Emily can fully figure it out, Blair plunges his way inside of her.
All thought, all brain functions leave Emily as she’s filled with her stepbrother’s hard, throbbing meat. She feels him stretch her, his cock larger by far than the only other one she’s had, and when he begins pounding into her, her weight helping to drive her body down farther onto his prick, she feels her body and mind reach places that she didn’t even know existed.
Blair holds tightly onto Emily as he fucks her, his hands wrapped around her thighs, keeping her aloft. Emily leans forward and drapes her arms around Blair’s body, holding close to him. She can hear his breath coming in hard, moans being whispered on the edges of those breaths. Emily herself feels her body rising up at the feeling of Blair inside of her, and she knows she can’t stop the orgasm that’s bubbling up, threatening to fill her to the brim with pleasure.
Her voice starts to rise, and her arms tighten around her stepbrother. He keeps fucking her, those moans coming on stronger now. Emily can swear she hears something inside the moans, a name perhaps, her name. But that orgasm is riding in with full force, and the longer Blair goes the closer she gets.
Now her voice is rising up, and she can tell it’s not going to be long. She feels herself tightening around Blair, a sudden burst of pleasure flying through her as, at the same time, Blair lets out a long and deep moan himself. He starts to fuck harder, somehow, and Emily cries out as her pleasure spikes through her.
She feels it coming on now. Her body is tightening, and her thighs are shaking as she’s about to come. She holds onto Blair for dear life, and as her orgasm finally crests and she feels herself crash over the edge, she hears Blair let out a deep, howling moan as he pulses heavily, emptying himself inside of her.
Emily cannot think; she cannot breathe. Blair’s hot seed is filling her up and she can feel its warmth spread throughout her belly as her own body crashes and explodes all over, her orgasm taking her to new places, places that make people finally believe in God.
When it’s all over, and as Blair is slowing down, Emily slows down with him. She feels him pull back from the car a bit and her legs unwrap themselves from around him, his cock sliding out of her as she lands on her feet, the muscles in her thighs threatening to become jelly and make her collapse.
“Wow,” Emily hears herself saying. Her eyes are still closed as she radiates from this wonderful sensation. In the back of her mind she can hear metal jingling and a zipper being done up. “Oh my God, Blair … that was amazing. I can’t believe we just did that. Wow, are you as hungry as I am? Do you want to get some-”
“No,” comes Blair’s voice, hard, and from a slight distance away. Emily opens her eyes to find Blair not standing in front of her, but walking towards the door to the house.
“No?” she repeats. “What do you mean? Blair, where are you going?”
“I mean that this was a mistake,” Blair says as he stops in front of the door. He turns his head but he doesn’t look at her. Emily swears she can see tears in his eyes. “You should never have come here,” he says. “You should have stayed away.”
“Blair, don’t say that,” Emily pleads, but Blair is shaking his head.
“I can’t do this, Victoria,” Blair says. “I can’t go back to this life again. Stay away from me, you hear me? I never want to see you again.”
And with that, Blair storms out of the garage, slamming the door behind him and leaving Emily standing, alone, where she is.
Part 2
Chapter 7
Emily stands in the garage, shocked, staring at the door that leads into the house.
What the hell just hap
pened? she thinks. And did he really just call me Victoria?
She can still smell Blair lingering in her nostrils; can still taste his skin on her tongue. Her pussy throbs as her body slowly comes down from one of the most incredible orgasms of her life, and as it does her head clears. She has to go find him and figure out what she did; where she went wrong when everything was starting to seem so right.
Emily puts on her t-shirt and adjusts her clothing so that she looks at least halfway decent. The newly-ripped crotch of her pyjama pants means the things are probably going to have to be thrown out. But it was worth it, she thinks, feeling her body start to warm up again. Shaking her head to clear it once more, Emily heads to the door and goes through, back into the darkness of the house.
It’s silent inside, and even though she stops where she is and cocks her head, she can’t hear anything. She goes to the stairs and tip-toes up them, and when she reaches the top she sees that Blair’s bedroom door, right beside hers, is closed.
Emily walks up and knocks softly on the wooden panelling.
“Blair?” she asks, keeping her voice low even though she knows that her mom and his dad aren’t back from their date yet. “Blair, are you in there?”
There’s no answer. Emily tries the doorknob, but is surprised to find that it won’t turn.
But there aren’t any locks on these doors, she thinks to herself. He must’ve installed it himself.
“Blair? We can talk about what happened. It’s okay … I’m not upset.”
Still silence. Emily chews softly on her lower lip, considering, and then says:
“Who’s Victoria?”
She thinks that she hears a noise — the creak of a floorboard, perhaps — but it’s gone and there’s still no response. Sighing to herself, Emily puts her hand on the surface of the door.
“Blair … if you want to talk, I’m here, okay? It’s all right … I know that maybe we shouldn’t have done what we did, but … it’s okay, Blair. If you want to talk to me, I’ll just be in my room.”
She steps back, her hand sliding down and off of the door. Again, no response. Sighing once more, Emily goes back to her empty room, the copy of Gray’s Anatomy still sitting open on her desk. She remembers studying, sixty minutes and a thousand years ago, before Blair came to give her advice, took her down to the garage, changed her life. Resisting the urge to drag her feet, she goes over to her desk and flips the book shut with a thump.
Flopping down on her bed, Emily stares up at the ceiling. She goes over the events of the past hour of her life: studying alone, and feeling stressed beyond belief; Blair appearing, out of the blue, and inviting her down to the garage; him making her put her hand into an engine casing to fix it, even though she’d never done anything like that before in her life; Emily actually doing it, and the motorcycle roaring to life afterwards; her hugging Blair and not being able to let go, his arms tightening around her; and then …
The rest is all a blur. The kissing, the sex; his hardness and sudden passion and strength, lifting her up against the side of the car, ripping open her pants at the crotch and pulling her panties to the side so he could fuck her. She trails a hand down and fingers the jagged edges of the fabric, torn at the seams. A smile starts up on her lips before dying out, extinguished by the memory of Blair’s sudden and unexpected words, and of him quickly leaving the garage.
The sound of the front doors opening and Emily’s parents — her mom and stepdad — coming in floats up to her ears. She hears them talk too loudly to one another, giggling and flirting, no doubt slightly drunk from their date. Emily closes her eyes, wishing that she had something like that in her life. Someone with whom she can spend a romantic evening and just have fun with. It’s not something she’s ever wanted before, but now she does. And unfortunately, the only person she’d even consider for that is currently locked in his room, not speaking to her.
Emily rolls over onto her side and closes her eyes. As her mind folds in on itself, trying over and over to figure out a solution to this situation, sleep slowly, and reluctantly, overtakes her.
Chapter 8
You would think that, given how little Emily and Blair had talked before, Blair being even more standoffish would be something of a marvel. But somehow he manages to make it happen, as during the days following their time in the garage Emily finds herself feeling more and more like a stranger in her own home.
She goes to work at the hospital every morning and comes home every evening, in time to eat dinner with her family. Blair, who works in the garage repairing cars and motorcycles, somehow manages to wake up before her, so she never runs into him on her way to the bathroom. At the times when she’s tried knocking on the door to the garage to say goodbye, he never responds, the door once again being locked from his side.
When Emily gets home Blair is nowhere to be seen, him being either still in the garage or out test-driving the vehicles, usually without wearing a helmet or even seat belt. Dinner is actually the only time during the day when Emily is guaranteed to see Blair, but that doesn’t mean that he speaks to her, or even acknowledges her presence. Their parents notice the tension, of course, but they just chalk it up to Emily being too tired to talk and Blair being his usual self. Besides, for Emily, this isn’t exactly the type of thing you can bring up over dinner:
So sweety, how was your day at the hospital?
Oh, not too bad, mom. I had a busy day, but I’ve been thinking a lot about when Blair and I fucked in the garage. Oh, plus I saw an cool ad for a movie on YouTube. How was your day?
After dinner, Blair usually goes back to the garage to keep working, up to lock himself in his room, or otherwise disappears from the face of the earth. He helps with cleaning up when asked, but always does it as quickly as possible, his eyes either on the ground or on the work in front of him. Emily’s questions are inevitably greeted with grunts and a brisk walking-away.
There is one good thing, though, to have come from Emily and Blair’s rendez-vous in the garage: she’s finally gotten the courage to approach things at the hospital with a clear head, and is able to do what the other interns have been doing from the start. Where before, Emily would find herself taking blood pressure like she was trying to strangle the patient’s arm, now she finds herself doing everyday tasks like she was born for it. She’s even gotten a commendation from the doctor she’s shadowing, which is something considering no other intern has gotten one yet.
And it’s all because of Blair. If he hadn’t come to her room that night that she was crying, if he hadn’t taken her to the garage and made her reach into the Harley Davidson’s engine and actually do what needed to be done, she never would have found the confidence that she has now. Now Emily approaches every task not as something to be terrified of, where her education flies out of her head like a startled flock of birds, but as something familiar, something intimate. Something that she knows she can do because everything she needs to do it is right there in front of her, in her hands and in her mind.
Emily wishes that there’s some way to thank Blair for all of the help he’s given her, despite it coming in such an unorthodox way. One morning, as Emily is getting ready for work before the sun has even started to rise, she’s standing in the kitchen smearing egg salad on slices of bread when she hears a door open and shut.
The noise is nothing special, but in the dark and silent house it sounds enormous. Emily freezes where she is, knowing that neither her mom nor Wayne would be up this early. That mean it can’t be anyone but …
Blair appears from around the corner, heading into the kitchen, and freezes when he sees Emily. His expression — dark, and brooding — doesn’t change, but she can see his body tense up, and his eyes widen only the slightest amount. Emily’s heart beats quickly in her chest.
“Hi,” she says, her voice soft. Blair hesitates for a beat, then he continues walking, as though she hadn’t said anything. He makes his way to the fridge and opens it, pulling out a carton of orange juice.
&
nbsp; “Blair,” Emily says, turning to face him, her egg salad sandwich and her need to get to work gone from her mind. “Can we talk? You’ve been avoiding me.”
“I haven’t been avoiding you,” Blair says in an equally soft voice as he takes a glass out of the cupboard and sets it down, pouring the bright orange liquid into it. “And there’s nothing to talk about.”
“Blair, what happened in the garage-”
“What happened was a mistake,” Blair cuts her off, his voice raising not in volume but intensity. Emily’s heart is hammering and, had she been paying attention, she would have noticed that her palms are sweaty. But she’s not the type to give up easily.
“It wasn’t a mistake,” she says as Blair puts the carton down on the counter. His hands grip the hard linoleum edge before him and he hangs his head. Emily takes a step towards him, her hand out but not quite touching his arm. “Blair … what happened between us … it wasn’t a mistake. I know it might seem like one because we’re stepbrother and stepsister, but that doesn’t matter to me. I don’t care. I want to be with you, Blair. I don’t understand why you’re acting this way …”
Her fingertips brush his arm and he pulls away, as though he’s been burned. Grabbing the orange juice carton with a grip that threatens to burst it, he strides towards the fridge and yanks the door open, puts the juice back, slams the door.
“You don’t understand,” he says, walking back to his glass of juice, his eyes on the counter in front of him. “You can never understand, okay? It would never work out between us.”
“But why, Blair?” Emily asks as he downs the juice in one go, slamming the glass back down on the counter so hard that Emily thinks it’s going to shatter.