by D STEP
I shrugged and said nothing. That dismissive, fuck-off sisterly tone had been pissing me off and making my dick hard – at the same time – since we were kids, and now was no different.
She sighed, folding her arms across her chest, and softened her tone slightly before going on. “I tell everyone I’m going to a night class outside of town, three or four times a week,” she explained with another sigh. “I drop the kids off after school and head to my ‘night class’, drive out here for a few appointments, one of the PTA moms carpools the kids home, and by the time I’m back everyone’s asleep and I’m a grand or two richer.”
I let out a low whistle; I couldn’t help but be impressed.
“I’m with the agency you called,” she said, then added with a smirk: “I’m in very high demand.”
“I’ll bet you are,” I whispered, fixing my gaze on hers. “That was one sexy, slutty little photo you had up there.”
She stared back at me for a moment, then –for the third time in less than five minutes - rolled her eyes.
“Shut up, Micky,” she said. “And get me a drink.”
I walked over to the cheap motel-room desk and poured her a full cup of scotch into one of the motel’s plastic bathroom cups. There was an ice-machine down at the end of the long fluorescent motel hallway, but I knew how my step-sister liked her scotch: warm and neat. I handed the glass to her, and our eyes met as our fingers crushed together. She bit her lip and said nothing, just closed her hand around the cup and, keeping her eyes on mine, took a long drink.
She swallowed and exhaled a low sigh. She stared down into the cup for a moment, then looked back up at me with a grave hang on her on her cutie-pie face.
“No one can know about this, Mick.”
“I know.”
As if I wanted anyone to know that I paid for whores to get my rocks off in some flea-bag motel while away on business, cheating on my wife and blowing the kids’ orthodontics money?
Malia laughed, shook her head, and took another long pull of her drink. I chuckled along with her, and raised my own cup of scotch as if to toast our case of mutual assured destruction.
“I always figured I’d run into someone I knew eventually, doing…this,” she mused. “But hot damn, I never once imagined it’d be you, bro.”
“Step-bro,” I murmured, watching her carefully. I wondered if she had noticed my boner, not quite adequately covered by the ends of my shirt. In my head, that filfthy, nasty inner voice was chattering away with the possibilities. I wonder if she remembers my cock from all those years ago in the bathtub, when her tits and ass were just beginning to sprout....I wonder if she ever thinks about it now, if she’s just dying to know how big and hard that cock grew up to be.
“Well, it was good to see you Mick,” she said, breaking me out of my reverie. She gulped down the rest of the scotch and set the cup back on the desk. With a little smirk and one final roll of her eyes, she turned and started making for the door. “Take it easy Mick. Good luck finding another whore.”
“You – you just got here,” I said, startled, caught off guard.
I wasn’t quite sure what I wanted to happen next…but I did know that I couldn’t pass up the revelation that my cutie-patootie little step-sister was in fact a filthy slut-whore who rented her chubby body by the hour.
“Come on, Malia,” I said, letting my voice slip into the taunting sing-song of adolescence, the same tone I’d used when I was trying to get her to do anything we both knew she wasn’t supposed to. “Come on, whaddya, scared? Stay awhile longer, unless you’re chicken.”
She paused, her hand on the doorknob. I held my breath and waited.
Chapter 3
“Yeah, well,” she hemmed and hawed, her hand still on the doorknob. “Would be nice to hang out, I don’t exactly feel like getting right back in my car after that scotch. But I can’t let this night go to waste – mortgage is due at the end of the week, and I know the agency can line me up something fast if I call them now and tell them to re-book me. I really can’t stay long.”
“But you’ve already got an appointment,” I heard myself say.
My voice had an insistent edge that surprised even me. Was this actually happening?
My heart was thudding in my chest and in my dick. Yeah, it was twisted and sinful and perverted and wrong, but…well, it was also just too wildly erotic a coincidence to ignore – wasn’t it?
“Mick!” Malia cried. “Shit, are you sick in the head? What’s the matter with you?!”
She was yelling at me in a high-pitched wail, just like when she was a teenager. The sight of her so upset only made my dick grow harder, the hot throbbing in my crotch more insistent.
“What’s a matter, my money not good enough for you, whore?” I asked, with a teasing hardness in my voice.
Something in me wanted to see her cry, just like she used to when I pulled her hair and snapped her bra when we were kids.
“Micky…” her voice wavered, and I could see tears welling up in her soft green eyes. I was almost too aroused to speak, but I plowed ahead.
“How ‘bout this?” I said, taking my wallet out and thumbing through the crisp bills. I counted out the fee that had been listed for her on the website - $600 for an hour - then double that, then triple. “How ‘bout three times what you’d normally earn for renting out your slutty little self for an hour? That’s $1,800 - 300% what you’d normally get for your trashy whore ass, isn’t it? Doesn’t that sound good, my slutty ste-sister whore? Hmm?”
She bit her lip and said nothing for a moment. Her eyes flashed with anger, but there was something else, I knew… she wanted it as bad as I did, maybe more. And it wasn’t just the money. She felt it too, the longing, the urgency…
“I know you want it, Mal,” I said quietly. “I know you want my fat hard cock pounding deep up inside you. I know you want it, you nasty little fuck-whore.”
“Don’t flatter yourself Mick,” she spat back. “The only reason I haven’t walked out of here and left you alone in this cheap-ass room is because I need the money.”
Even as she said it, I knew she didn’t mean it. Every muscle and bone in her body was trying to put up a front, to make like she wasn’t aching to take me inside her. But she couldn’t fool me. She never could.
“You’re just a dirty whore, aren’t you Mal? Anyone who pays can stick it in you, that right?”
I grabbed her by the hair and pulled her over to the ratty, cum-stained motel-room armchair. “Let’s see what my little step-sis whore can do.”
Malia whimpered, but didn’t resist as I shoved her head forward and bent her over the arm of the chair. I yanked her dress up over her creamy white hips. She was wearing black, lacy crotchless panties, with a gaudy gold bow tied over the crack of her ass.
“These are some trashy underwear,” I said, looping the strap of her garter under my finger, before pulling it back with a sharp SNAP!
Malia yelped in pain. I pressed my other hand into the small of her back, holding her down, while beginning to explore her expansive, gelatinous butt cheeks. I groped her gently at first, then roughly. With my knee, I shoved her legs open and thrust my palm against the flab of her groin. I rubbed the stubble over her fat, shaved labia, edged with cheap lace and silk ribbon.
She didn’t move as I manhandled her. But as I began to press my fingers into her cunt, I could feel – in all its slippery oozing glory – just how badly she wanted me.
“You’re one wet little hooker,” I told her. “I’ve never felt such a sopping, dripping wet puss-puss.”
She said nothing, just let out a low moan that could have been either intense arousal or a desperate sob – or both.
I grabbed her by the hair again and yanked her around to face me. Her absurd gold dress was still bunched around her belly, her pudgy ass aimed up toward the ceiling, her dimpled knees around her ears.
“Here’s the cash, whore.” I pulled the thick wad of bills from my wallet – all $1800 - and dangled it
Slowly, I dropped my hand and pressed the roll of bills against her oozing wet twat hole. With my fist wrapped around the money, I began to knead and twist and push the money and my knuckles into her hole. I saw her grimace with pain, yet her pussy gushed even wetter.
“Count it,” I said, releasing my hand suddenly and letting the wad of cash fall over her pussy and thighs. “S’all there, all $1,800 for your disgusting whore body. Count it, step-sis. Count it, slut.”
She looked at me hard, then began digging the cash from her folds of fat and lace, counting it slowly. I said nothing, just stood and watched as she added up the bills.
“That’s what I thought,” I said as she finished her sums and arranged the bills in a pile. “S’all there, meaning I get to do whatever I want to you, right?”
She nodded, still staring down at the money, before looking up at me with wet eyes and a tiny smile.
“Yeah, Micky. You can do whatever you want to me.” She heaved herself off the chair, her dress still bunched around her waist, and walked bottomless across the room to tuck the money into her purse.
She turned back and faced me with the spread of a leer on her face. I frantically began unbuttoning my slacks and pulling down my briefs, all the while keeping my eyes plastered on Malia’s pushed-up tits and widespread thighs.
“All right, asshole,” she said, her voice dripping with contempt. “Let’s get this over with.”
So much blood had rushed to my dick that my vision had begun to go spotty. Suddenly, a surge of anger welled up along with my intense arousal. I found myself reaching out to grab Malia’s hair again and yanking her head around to face me.
“Malia, do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted you?” I yelled, shaking her by the hair as she winced and gritted her teeth.
“You were the pinnacle of womanhood in my eyes – my hot little step-sister, goddamn Wonder Woman. And now – now I find out you’re just a disgusting, sloppy, common-ass whore!”
As I spat the last sentence, I released her hair and shoved her back, sending her falling head-first into the couch, where she promptly curled into a fetal position.
I collapsed on the bed, still dizzy, still hard as all hell, watching her juicy body tremble and quiver in the chair.
“Micky,” came her soft voice finally, from under a pile of soft brown hair and trashy satin. “Micky, I’m sorry.”
I said nothing, but leaned over and shoved my hand between her legs. She remained curled into a ball, her face pressed down into the couch, as I forced my wrist up and between her ass-lips and cheeks. I pried her folds apart and pressed my knuckles against her gushing wet hole and erect, burning-hot clit.
“How many men?” I asked. “How many dicks got to fuck this fat sloppy pussy ahead of me?”
There was no reply, so I thrust two fingers knuckle-deep straight into her, no warning. She bucked in agony, prompting me to reach out and press my other hand onto her neck, restraining her against the sofa once more.
“Tell me the number, cum-bucket,” I said, holding my fingers firm inside her hot wet pussy, jerking them ever so slightly against her G-spot. “Tell me how many cocks you’ve taken in your whore-pussy. Tell me.”
Malia grunted as I pumped my fingers in and out of her cunt, deeper and harder and faster with each thrust, showing no mercy. She moaned and writhed in primal, savage pleasure, but still she said nothing – refusing to answer my question, probably because she didn’t want me to stop.
“You’re loving this, aren’t you whore?” I growled in her ear. Her pussy juice was gushing out of her and all over my fingers, coating my hand up past my wrist. “You’re so fucking thrilled to have your ever-lovin’ stepbrother finally reaching up deep inside you, aren’t you, my little slut-sister? Just tell me how many – how many fat cocks you shoved up in you for money?”
When there came no answer again, I smashed a third finger into her, feeling her stretch as she split apart, restrained like an animal and grunting like a beast.
Finally, she panted out in strangled breaths: “I - I don’t know, Micky – maybe – maybe 50?”
“Fifty,” I intoned in disgust. I sped up the rhythm as I forced the better part of my hand into her gaping pussy. “Fifty fucking cocks, 50 dirty men you never even met -
50 dicks for money, and you never even gave it to me once – your step-brother, who’s known you your whole life. You fucked 50 god-damned dicks before me. You really are a sick little whore.”
Revulsion washed over me, and I realized was repulsed at the thought of boning Malia’s ruined pussy. Christ, after 50 men, who knew what was going on up there.
My fingers grew limp and began to slide out of her, completely coated in her whore’s pussy-cum, resting finally over her tiny puckered asshole. I stopped, and considered my step-sister’s anus for a moment.
“And how many have you taken in here?” I asked, circling my well-lubricated thumb over her suction-tight asshole.
Malia began to struggle under me again, and I pressed her down harder against the couch.
“Unnnnghhh, Micky!” she wailed, muffled against the stained cushion, squirming her fat hips as she struggled against me. “Unnngh, Michky, please – I – I’ve never done that!”
“Ahaaaaa… so that means I’ll be the first one in your tight little asshole!” I pressed harder and felt the tip of my thumb burst into her anus. Malia spasmed and tense, her sphincter muscle clasping around my thumb and inadvertently drawing another half-inch into her.
“Unnghh…unnnnnghhhhh Micky, please – I – I’ve never - unnnnghhhhmmmmm…” moaned Malia.
“What is it, baby? You know you want it – you know you want your step-bro’s thick hard cock driving deep into your virgin ass. You do, don’t you, my little slut step? Hunh?”
“Unnnnghhhh – oh Micky, I – I don’t know – I –“ she was struggling to speak as my slick thumb pressed and pulsed against her perfect, dark little hole. Her body was undulating with excitement and straining with the pleasure that she so desperately wanted to deny.
“You said I could do anything I wanted,” I reminded her, as I began gently working my lubricated thumb in and out, in and out – just a quarter-inch of movement, massaging her prostate gland and causing her pelvis to rock with pleasure.
“Oh Mick…unnnnghhh mmmmmm Mick” she muttered in a desperate moan. I could hear both desire and resignation in her voice – resigning herself to her desires, in fact.
“Unnnngh – unnnnngh yes,” she groaned, pressing her ass against my hand now, actively pushing my thumb further into her hole. “Unnnnnnghhh yes.”
“Yes what, Malia?” I whispered, spreading my hand around her hips and driving my thumb deep into her quivering stretched-out asshole, as my other hand stroked the silky tender skin of her neck and throat. “Say it, you little slutty whore – say it, my precious cum-bucket step-sister. Yes what?”
“Mmmmmmm unnnnghhh,” she grunted and groaned, then looked back at me with pure hunger in her eyes. “Unnngh – yes Mick. Yes, you can do anything you want.”
Chapter 4
“Put these in your mouth and suck,” I told her, removing my one hand from her neck and shoving three fingers down her throat. My other hand’s thumb remained hooked and pumping into her ass as she meekly sucked and gagged on my fingers.
After a few moments, I pulled my fingers from her face, slimy with saliva. I held my hand under Malia’s face and instructed: “Spit.”
She did as she was told, her brown eyes fixed fiercely on mine, launching a fat, slimy gob of spit into my palm.
“That’s my good little slut step-sister whore,” I said with a grin. “Now bend as far over as you can.”
She pulled the heft of her tits and belly over one side of the armchair, letting her torso flop straight down, so that her back was perpendicular to the floor and her juicy thick ass was sticking straight up into the air.
“That’s right. Now, legs apart.”
She wriggled around and braced her pudgy thighs out against the chair, her asshole pointing straight up and out with that ridiculous gold bow over the naked crack. I watched her, and coated my engorged cock with her saliva on my hand, running the shaft up and down with her spitty goo and making sure my dick was fully slicked and lubricated for her tight virgin ass.
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