Stepbrother: No Boundaries

by Branley, Amber

  This cock whore of his ain’t goin’ anywhere.

  He spanks me again with the palm of his hand and then grips down on the flesh of my ass cheek with his fingers. His tongue laps out and brushes against my cheeks and then he recoils and I feel the hard leather whip strings smacking ravenously against my ass.

  “Oh!” I howl.

  He tosses the whip to the ground and then produces a ball gag as if out of thin air. He fastens it securely around my head and thrusts the ball deep over my tongue. I gag softly and close my eyes as I feel his cock entering me from behind. This is what he wants.

  This is how he fucking likes it.

  He pounds me as the bed begins to shake. I squeal through the gag with pleasure and take his cock happily as he thrusts it back and forth, in and out of my sweet tight cunt. My nails dig into the bed sheets and then I feel my body trembling and shaking. I’m going to come, and I’m going to come fucking hard.

  It hits me out of nowhere, the tremendous orgasm sweeping through my body as I feel the whip clashing down on my ass one last time before Scott himself begins to come. He lets out a deep rasping moan and then clamps his fingers down onto my hips as he thrusts into me, expelling his sweet cum into the condom. The cum I so desperately desire inside of me.

  “Fuck,” He mutters slowly to himself sounding tremendously satisfied, “Fuck, baby.”

  I feel him pulling out of me and then he’s walking to the bathroom to clean himself up like always. I lay down on my side and prop my head up with my hand and watch as he washes his hands and cranes his neck to glance over at me.

  “Was that as good for you as it was for me?” He laughs.

  Chapter 14

  Scott

  I like the way she fucked just now. She’s getting better, making progress. Pleasing my desires and taking my demands like a fucking champ. Not to mention she’s got such a tight, wet pussy that pulsates around my cock.

  Good girl, I think snidely to myself as I replay the sex in my head.

  I’m in the shower going over the business meeting I’ve got tomorrow. This time I’ll actually have to pay attention and give a presentation and I’m fucking dreading it. Colleagues I work with from Chicago are flying in and they’ll drop the business deals with me if I’m not impressive. I haven’t even planned a speech so I’m going to improvise like I always do. Fuck ‘em, I’ve got billions of dollars and none of them are near my net worth.

  They’re little bugs that need to be squashed.

  Miranda’s hand softly touches my back in the shower and I forget that she’s even in there with me. Shows how good my attention is. I’ve got other shit on my plate, though – shit that has to be dealt with if I want to make any more money, and fast. And I’m not talking a shitty four million; I’m not in that racket. I need the billion dollar deal to go through.

  I’m not interested in any deals less than that now.

  Her lips press against my cheek and slide to my lips. I love her and I hate to admit that, but I’m not in the mood to kiss right now. We just fucked, for Christ’s sake. I push her away very gently and then she almost slips. I panic as my eyes widen and reach down with spider like reflexes before grabbing her in my arm.

  “Jesus Christ.” I rasp.

  “I slipped, oh that was scary.” She says.

  “You could’ve cracked your fucking head open and it would’ve been my fault. Fuck’s sake I feel like I’m about to have a heart attack.”

  With the direction she was toppling her head would’ve smacked right dab in the center of the tub’s faucet. I keep replaying it over in my mind and feeling my heart thumping like a mad man, and then I remind myself that I caught her so it’s okay. She’s fine, she’s fine. She didn’t crack her head open and you won’t have to live with the guilt of being the one to cause it, albeit as accidental as it would’ve been.

  God, I love this woman.

  “I want to suck you now,” She says, “Can I?”

  I’m really not in the mood, I just fucking came. But then I see the way she’s looking at me from below and it gets me rock hard. She’s staring at me with those innocent big blue eyes and I’m feeling myself instinctively gripping onto her cunt with my fingers. I nod my head, giving her my approval which she knows she always needs.

  I’m the boss and this girl isn’t going to fucking break me. But she is, and she knows it. And so do I.

  She crouches down onto her knees as the soft spray of water splashes against her smooth shoulders, and then she peers up at me with those big bashful eyes. Her plump lips stretch apart as she opens her mouth wide and takes my cock deep into her throat. I shudder and feel my knees trembling from the incredible sensitivity of my cock as her mouth laps back and forth on the big thick shaft.

  I’m leaned back against the expensive marble walls as the water splashes against me and my wet cock is engulfed by her succulent lips. Slobber rolls down my balls and is immediately washed away by the spraying shower head and I’m groaning at this point from how she’s making me feel – like a little bitch.

  “Fuck,” I moan, “Just like that. Suck it nice and good.” I rasp.

  She engulfs me even deeper until the head of my cock is rammed against her throat and I let out a whimpering moan as I reach down to stroke her hair. No woman has ever been able to do this before – never. I feel like she’s got me between both fingers, pinching me into her submission – but I’m not gonna let that fucking happen.

  I steady myself and feel my face twisting back into my usual dominant scowl, and then I reach down for her head and begin to pull it forward, back and forth. I’m mouth fucking her like the whore she’s being, and judging by the soft moans vibrating onto my crotch she likes it. I begin to sway my hips back and forth as I use her mouth just the way I want it, and then I let out a rasping sigh as I come into her throat.

  She pulls away and tosses her head back into the air as she gulps my load down and I kneel down and caress her chin while I stare into her eyes, “Good girl.” I say.

  “Was I really good?”

  I pinch her nose teasingly and nod my head. She was good. Real fucking good – I’m getting more and more impressed by her with each passing day.

  ****

  I’m dressing myself in preparation for the dinner I’ve arranged for us. Walter Coblanc and his fiancé along with myself rented out an entire restaurant to ensure that we’re the only couples there. He’s a colleague of mine who runs one of my companies. The restaurant is a pricy joint in SoHo and if I hadn’t reserved the entire space for the four of us I damn well know it would’ve been jam packed with the usual crowd – star seekers spending their entire weeks’ paycheck while they try to look rich and… People like me – except, not as wealthy. Miranda hasn’t met them and I’m hoping she’ll be alright. I hate the way she sometimes clams up around people – but I also hate when she’s had a few glasses of wine and proceeds to gloat about me. I hate when women talk cute and rub up against me when I’m around colleagues.

  I stare blankly at myself in the mirror and think about Miranda as I tighten my tie. She’s become quite horny lately and I wonder why. She’s wanting to get fucked more and I like it, but I need her to know that she’s the woman and I’m the man. I’m the boss and the one who brings home the bread, and she knows it.

  But she’s getting to me – she’s getting into my goddamn head and it’s killing me. I can’t let her break me down. I have to keep my guard up. She’s softening me and she knows it, it’s all part of her plan.

  Why am I against this so much, someone may wonder.

  Because I don’t want to be like my own Father who did everything my Mother asked. Then she left him and he killed himself. I’m not going to be a fucking pansy like that.

  I stare at my reflection until I’m satisfied and then I straighten my collar for a second and walk out of the bathroom. Miranda’s ready before me, what a surprise. I’m impressed and it looks like she got the message from the last time before we went to California. She
’s not taking up my precious time anymore by primping herself with makeup and hairspray. She’s obeying my wishes. Good.

  “Ready?” I ask casually, knowing damn well that she’s indeed ready.

  “Yes.”

  “I hope you’ve got an appetite, because they’re giving us a four course meal.”

  “After all that sex? I’m starved.”

  I stop her as she walks towards the door and spin her around. She looks surprised and somewhat… Scared.

  “You did good in the shower. I liked that.”

  “You’re speaking to me like I’m some whore.”

  “You’re not a whore, but you are my whore.” I say sternly.

  “Am I just a fucking sex toy to you?”

  I grip onto her waist and clench my teeth, “No, sweetheart. You’re my woman, but the sex toy aspect comes with the package.”

  “Sometimes I get over this dominant bad boy image you’ve got going,” She says coldly, “I’m going to get you to loosen up. You have to realize that, Scott.”

  Her stare is icy and deadly serious. She means business and I find it fucking amusing. I love the girl, but… She doesn’t seem to know who she’s dealing with even after the many years we’ve known each other. We grew up in the same damn house, doesn’t she realize who I am? When I say she doesn’t know who she’s dealing with, I mean she doesn’t know that I can’t be broken. I won’t be broken, and she has to find that out at some point.

  “What would you prefer? Me to turn into a pussy?” I kiss her cheek softly and smile.

  “Maybe.” She says.

  “Maybe.” I mimic her.

  “Yeah. It’d be better than the cocky dick you are.” She turns to leave. I stop her by grabbing her arm softly. She spins back around and huffs with annoyance, “What?”

  “Babe, you’ve got to understand that you can’t change me. Okay? And besides, I know you like my attitude, because you wouldn’t be with me if you didn’t.”

  “Keep telling yourself that.” She kisses me on the cheek and turns for the door. I grab her again and this time my hand clamps down harder on her arm.

  I need her to know I mean fucking business.

  “I’m not fucking with you. You understand that I’m serious about this, right? You’re not going to be able to morph me into another personality. I’m not going to soften up – ever. Do you understand that, Miranda?” I bore my eyes into hers and she suddenly looks submissive. I like that.

  She pauses, “Yes.”

  Good. Very fucking good.

  Chapter 15

  Miranda

  I don’t know these people but I don’t like them so far. They’re just like Scott but worse – I don’t mean that in a bad way towards Scott, I love him… But… They’re just two suits sitting there laughing about business deals and speaking in business terms I can’t comprehend.

  And the fiancé – ugh, where did Walter find her? Some high fashion model catwalk? She’s rail thin and hasn’t taken a bite of her food, literally. It’s sitting there getting cold in front of her and is big enough to feed three people. She stirs her fork around it casually and smirks every once in a while, even laughs occasionally at Walter like she somehow knows what he’s talking about. He ignores her playfulness and doesn’t even seem to realize she’s there, but Scott is doing the same to me.

  I’ve probably said four words since sitting down at the table – “Nice to meet you.” I’d say they said one or two – “Yeah, hi.” Brats, especially the girl. She just keeps sitting there ignoring me, even looking in my direction but just staring zombie like past me as if I’m not even there. Bitch…

  “So,” She says suddenly, “What do you do?” She’s staring at me with icy blue model eyes and smirking as if she already knows the answer.

  “Nothing, just live off his billions.” I say bluntly, and then burst into laughter.

  Scott hears this reply and laughs as well before wrapping his arm around me. The bitch directly across the table from me opens her mouth to speak but doesn’t say anything, and then twists her face into an awkward looking smile. She wasn’t expecting that brutal honesty. I decide to fire back at her. I’ve already had a few glasses of wine and I’m feeling particularly confident – I don’t care about hurting any feelings tonight, at least not when it comes to this nasty couple who don’t even acknowledge me.

  “What about you?” I ask, “Oh wait. Aspiring fashion model?”

  Her eyes narrow, “Aspiring? I’ve been on a cover.”

  “Of what? Starving artists? You look like you need to eat. Trust me, I’d love to lose about twenty pounds myself but you’re on a whole nother level. You look like the wind will blow you away once we step outside tonight! Please, dear, have a bite!”

  Her face turns white and Walter’s loud yapping voice stops speaking to Scott about whatever the hell it was speaking to him about. He stares at me uncomfortably and fidgets with his fork, but he’s already cleaned his plate by shoveling the food into his fat well fed mouth and he doesn’t know how to play off his uncomfortable feeling.

  “I’m fine, I’m not hungry.” The girl says.

  “Probably not,” My voice shakes, “Your stomach’s probably so used to not eating. Did you used to be fat, like me?” I ask.

  “Miranda.” Scott whispers and then rams his fist against my thigh, “Enough.”

  “It’s okay. She’s unconfident with herself,” The girl smiles, “I would be too if I was as overweight as her.”

  I stand up and grip the underside of the table. I flip it over towards the other couple with a surprising amount of ease, but that was most likely thanks to my rage strength at that very moment. As soon as the plates filled with foods and the bottle of opened wine along with the four glasses spill onto their designer clothes I feel my face turn ghostly white.

  What the fuck kind of temper tantrum did I just throw?

  I turn to run and hear Scott’s deep scream echo through my ears along with tears coming from the model. I don’t hear Walter say anything and I assume he’s probably just sitting there in shock covered in food and spilled red wine. I feel like a fool, and like a horrible person. The cold night greets my cheeks as I scurry out the door and prepare myself for the worst.

  I don’t know where I’m going because my only home is Scott’s at this point and I realize that it certainly has to be over. He won’t be with me after that outburst and I don’t blame him. I’m running down the sidewalk trying to hail a fucking cab but they all whiz past me because of course they’re taken when I need one so desperately. I glance back in a panic as I feel one of my heels falling off my foot and I kick the other one off and begin to run barefoot on the freezing cement.

  It’s over.

  It’s fucking done.

  Tears are streaming down my cheek and quickly turning to icicles and I’m running up Broadway as people stare casually at me like I’m just some insane New Yorker on drugs. But I’m not, I swear. I’m a billionaire’s woman.

  Was. Was a billionaire’s woman. Now I’m nothing.

  ****

  I’ve been walking in the cold for two hours and I know I must be getting pneumonia. The tears have stopped and my makeup’s ruined and plastered on my face; frozen there from my dried tears. I glance at my reflection in my phone’s camera and cringe when I see the mascara running down my cheeks, and I walk to a water fountain in a small park by the Hudson River and splash my face repeatedly despite the frigid temperature of the water.

  What the fuck have I done? It’s over, I caused the biggest outburst of all time and it’s over. I’m such a horrible, wretched woman.

  I look at my missed calls and see that Scott has called me six times. If he cared he’d probably call me more than that, but he hasn’t. Either that or he’s acting like he doesn’t care. By now I’m certain he’s home and he’s thrown my bags and clothes to the curb, or ordered his butler to do so. He wouldn’t get his hands dirty with the trash that belonged to a bitch like me.

  But
I’m not a bitch, it was just an accident. I’m a lightweight as far as alcohol goes and I… I… I just lost my temper, Scott.

  He wouldn’t hurt me – he’d never do that. Under his bad boy tough guy alpha façade he’s a softie and he knows it – and fucking hates it. He’d just look at me and not say a word, just point to the door. Yeah, that’s what would happen if I showed up there right now, which is why I didn’t bother trying to hail a cab anymore after twenty minutes of failing at getting one. There’d be no point because he’d have already beaten me home.

  My frantic plan was to rush there in a cab and beat him there, grab my belongings quickly and go to my friends – or hell, a hotel if I had to. I just knew it was over and never wanted to see him again because I made such a fool of myself. I just want to forget about the last week and…

  But I love him so much – I’d never be able to forget him.

  Well get used to trying, sweetie – because he’s done with you, I guarantee that much.

  I decide to try and get a cab again. I’ve been out in the cold for two hours too long and I’m only wearing a dress. I’m seriously going to get sick if I stay out here anymore. I can’t stand this, I can’t stand myself, I can’t stand anything. The bitch said I was fat – cunt.