Stepbrother With Benefits 3

by Clark, Mia

  She laughs and squirms and wriggles away from me, but I'm not going to deal with that. Oh no, not now, Princess.

  "Ethan!" she shrieks, but it's hushed. We're still at the drive-in, and I'm pretty sure she realizes that.

  "Come here, Princess," I say, smooth. "Sit in my lap."

  She comes. She sits. She's facing forward, looking at the movie screen, and I am, too. My cock throbs between her thighs.

  "Stand up a little," I say. When she does, I pull her panties to the side, then pull her back down.

  Right on my cock. Right fucking on it.

  She's wet. Wetter than wet. Yeah, good. I'm glad I'm not the only one aroused by this situation.

  As soon as she sinks down on me and I fill her completely, she lets out a loud gasp. "Oh my God," she says. "Ethan, we're..."

  "I know where we are," I say. "And I don't fucking care."

  "It's so wrong," she says. Is that... holy fuck, she's talking dirty to me, isn't she? Not very well. We can work on that.

  "You want it," I tell her.

  "Ethan, you're my stepbrother!"

  I didn't know how much of a turn on that was until she says it while I'm balls deep inside her, my cock twitching and throbbing and covered with cum from when she gave me a handjob. It's just so fucking... taboo. Holy fuck. I probably should have realized this before now, but yeah, whatever. It's not even about that, but at the moment she's apparently decided to make it a little about that.

  I wrap my hand around her stomach and pull her close. My other hand sneaks up her shirt and starts fondling her breast. She grinds against my lap, moving exactly how I want her to.

  "I've only ever had sex in the regular position," she says. "I've never been on top like this."

  "How do you like it?" I ask.

  "I... can you touch me? My..."

  "Say it, Princess. Say it and I'll do whatever you want."

  "Ethan, can you... can you rub my clit with your fingers? Beneath my panties?"

  "Say it again," I tell her. "Say it like you mean it. Say it like you'll die if I don't do it."

  "Brother, I need you!" she says, gasping out the words. "I need you to rub my clit. I want you to make me cum on your cock. I want you to cum inside me, too. I want it so bad."

  Holy... what the fuck? Where did that come from? It's like she's been...

  Brother? Fucking hell. That's some sick shit. I don't know why this turns me on. I guess it doesn't help that she's literally never called me this before, not once. It's new and strange and I don't know how I feel about it. I'm going to have to have a talk with her about this later.

  She's my stepsister, I remind myself. It's not actually wrong. I mean, it's not like this is the best thing in the world. I'm not going to tell anyone about it. But it's not actually fucked up, you know? It's technically perfectly legal...

  I don't even know how. The way my cock feels inside her pussy... something this good should definitely be illegal.

  I slip my hand under the waistband of her panties and tease and rub at her clit. Or, that's what I planned on doing, but as soon as I touch her, her back arches hard and she starts to tremble and shake. Too hard? Too rough? I ease up a little, but she grabs my hand and pulls it back.

  "No no no no please," she hisses, frantic.

  I'm confused for a second, but then I realize it.

  Holy fucking shit, this girl is responsive as fuck. I guess I wasn't the only one waiting for this. I rub slow, but steady, keeping it up, and yeah... she's cumming. I feel her grip and squeeze against my cock, her slick arousal getting even wetter. Her panties, my cock, and my fingers are soaked now.

  She's not grinding anymore. It's fine, no big deal. My cock isn't going soft anytime soon. I'm pretty sure I could stand up right now and keep her in the air just with the strength of my erection. No hands necessary.

  She gasps and pants and starts to breathe faster, then she slumps against me, coming down from her sexual high. I rub her clit lightly still, keeping her peaked and interested. I'm pretty sure it's not going to take much...

  "Can you do it again?" she asks. "Not me. You, I mean. Can you? Inside me?"

  "Yeah," I say, grinning. "Your wish is my command, Princess."

  Were we watching a movie? Two movies? Double feature, right? We're at a drive-in movie theatre. Good thing the back windows are tinted. It's dark, anyways. Probably doesn't matter. The car might be rocking. That's never a good thing. I don't fucking care. A world-destroying meteor could crash down right next to us, destroying everything but our car, and I wouldn't notice.

  I think I'm in love with this girl. With her pussy, that is. Don't get the wrong fucking idea. This is Ashley we're talking about. My stepsister.

  She deserves someone better than me. She'll find him some day.

  *** Ethan

  I'm so tired. I can't believe we did that, either. I never would have done that with anyone else. I don't think I would have.

  My sex life up until now has been... adequate. I think that's the best word to describe it.

  What's sex, really? Technically it's a process by which a male and female of the same species can create new life. In which case, I suppose my sex hasn't even been adequate, scientifically speaking. And I'm very thankful for that. I don't want to have a baby, at least not now. Later, when I'm settled, when I've found someone I love, who I want to marry, and...

  But sex can be fun, too, can't it? I suppose it's technically not necessary, at least as far as science and biology are concerned, but I think it's nice when it is. And in that case, my sex life has also been lackluster. It's felt... good. When I've had sex, it does feel good.

  But it's never felt like anything compared to the way Ethan makes me feel. It's more than the sex, too. A lot more.

  Oh God! I can't believe I said some of what I said, too. Brother? I mean, technically he's my stepbrother, and it's not completely out of the ordinary for me to call him brother. He calls my mom "Mom" and I call his dad "Dad" and it was weird at first and we didn't do that, but we've lived together for a few years now and it's coming more natural.

  I've never called him that before, though. I don't think I'm good at dirty talk, but when Ethan had me spit in my hand to give him a handjob, um... I just wanted to be dirtier? I wanted to have fun, like he says we're doing. And we are having fun, but...

  I don't know. Maybe that was too much. Maybe I went too far. Maybe it was gross? When I think about it now, it is kind of gross. Except Ethan's cock grew even harder inside me as soon as I said it, too.

  Maybe it's alright to say some things during sex when you know you wouldn't say them otherwise. Is that it? It makes a little sense, in a strange way. I'll ask him later and if he didn't like it I'll apologize.

  I'm just so tired right now, though. We're home again. I don't know how Ethan can drive after what we did, but he managed to do it. Are we going to have sex? Again?

  He parks in the garage and turns off the car. As soon as he steps out of the car, the interior garage light flips on. I go to open my own door and try to step out, to walk inside, but it's difficult.

  Silent, saying nothing, Ethan comes around to my side of the car. He opens the door for me. I hold out my hand to take his so he can help me up, but his hand isn't there. Not exactly.

  He lifts me up, sliding one arm behind my back. His other arm cradles beneath my legs. Gently, carefully, he pulls me up and out of the car, carrying me in his arms. I don't say anything. I'm too tired to. I rest my head against his chest and close my eyes and listen to the sound of his heart and his breathing and his soft steps as we walk through the garage.

  He'll put me down once we get inside, I'm sure. Except he doesn't.

  While still carrying me, he types in the key code on the numpad to open the house door, then twists the knob to let us inside, and also somehow manages to close the door behind us. Then, still holding me tight, he walks through the halls of the first floor, heading to the staircase. And up. Up. Up. His feet thud against the carpete
d steps, and I count them silently in my head, like slumbering sheep.

  When we get to the top of the stairs, I open my eyes a little. Where are we going? To my bedroom, or...?

  No. To his. He carries me down the hall to his room. The door is already open, since he never bothered to close it before we left. He flicks on the light and brings me to his bed, placing me gently on top of the covers.

  I smile at him. "Can I sleep in here with you tonight?" I ask.

  "Yeah," he says. "I'll get you out of your clothes."

  "I... Ethan, I don't know if I can have sex again today," I say.

  He laughs. "Nah, it's fine. Me either. You tired me out, Princess."

  "Really?" I ask. That sounds impressive. I think he must be lying, but it's not a bad lie. It's a fun one.

  "Really," he says.

  He pulls off my shoes, one by one, and tosses them to the floor. Then my socks along with them. He moves to unbutton my pants, too.

  "Ethan, can we cuddle?"

  He hesitates before answering, pulling my jeans down my legs, leaving me almost bare. His fingers wrap into the waistband of my panties before he says, "Why do you want to do that, Princess?"

  "They always leave," I say. It hurts. I never realized how much it hurts until now. "No one ever stays the night with me. Not even..."

  Not even Jake. I don't want to think about Jake. I never want to think about him again. I...

  I want to think about Ethan. I know I shouldn't, but I want to. Even if it's just a week, that's fine. It's...

  I don't know if it's fine.

  "They're stupid," he says. "Whoever it is, they're fucking stupid. Yeah, I'll cuddle with you, Princess."

  "I don't know how to," I say. "That sounds dumb, huh?"

  "Nah," he says, smiling. He lifts me up a little and pulls off my shirt. "I don't know how to, either. We'll figure it out."

  Oh...

  He unclasps my bra, leaving me completely naked now. I close my eyes, but I can hear him undressing beside me. I imagine Ethan naked in my mind, even if I could simply open my eyes and see him naked. First his shoes, then his pants. He didn't wear underwear tonight. I wonder if he does that often? Finally he pulls his shirt up and over his head. Then he...

  "Come on," he says. "Stand up for a second. Need to lift the covers up."

  I keep my eyes closed, but I move into his arms when he helps me up and off the bed. We're both naked, standing close. I wrap my arms around him and nuzzle my cheek against his chest, and he holds me tight with one arm while sweeping back the blankets with the other. When he's done, he swoops me into his arms and lays me in bed. Shortly after, he follows.

  Ethan reaches above his head and flicks a switch, covering us in darkness. Everything is black. It's almost midnight now. The double feature movies run late, but that's part of what I like about them. I lay on my back in bed next to Ethan, who is laying the same way. There's blankets over us now, keeping us close and warm.

  Slowly, unsure, I roll to the side and drape my arm over his chest. I put my head partway on his shoulder and the pillow. He curls his arm around me, loose at first, but after a second he squeezes me tighter. His confidence makes me bold. I lift up my leg and wrap it around his, my knee resting near his hip, my thigh close to the core of his body.

  Ethan kisses the top of my head and I nuzzle even closer to him.

  "You comfortable?" he asks.

  "Mhm," I murmur.

  "Good," he says. "Let's get some sleep."

  "What about tomorrow?" I ask.

  "What about it?" he says.

  "Will you still be here?"

  "Yeah," he says. After a short pause, he adds, "I'll always be here, Ashley."

  "Always?" I ask.

  He chuckles. "Yeah, where do you think I'm going to go? I live here too, remember?"

  Oh... right...

  I knew that.

  It's just...

  "G'night, Ethan," I say, kissing his bare chest. He feels warm and soft beneath me. I like cuddling.

  "G'night," he says.

  *** Ethan

  What the fuck? What are you even doing here? I'm trying to sleep.

  Do you think you can read into my innermost thoughts, my secret feelings, and figure something out? Nah, probably not. Whatever. You want to see what I dream about? Alright then, have at it.

  I guess you want me to say that I've never slept this well before, but you're wrong. The best night's sleep I ever had was after my first night of double practice sessions for football during my freshman year of high school. Six hours of practice split between three hour sessions, one in the morning, then a couple hours of break, and another in the afternoon.

  Up until then, practice for football was kind of easy. Just junior league level shit, nothing crazy or intense. In high school you go hard, though. There's a lot going on, a lot to learn, and you need to actually get into shape. I thought I was doing pretty well for myself before that, but apparently not. Your muscles burn for days until you finally manage to break through the aches and stiffness from doing something you've never done before.

  The night after my first day of that was my best night's sleep ever. I still remember what I dreamed about. Is it weird to dream about a dream you had before? I don't know. Who cares?

  First day of high school double sessions was also the beginning of cheerleader practice. They were a little pickier about who they allowed on the squad, so there was actual training and tryouts going on. For football, at least at the high school level, they basically just let anyone on the team. You either quit because you can't move anymore and you're too lazy to keep trying, or you stick it out. You might not play a lot, but it's still fun to fuck around during practice.

  Not everyone's a hero. Not everyone has to be in the spotlight. Sounds fucked up coming from me, I know. It's true, though. I like everyone I play with, whether they're third string and never actually play during a game, or they're guarding me as I move back to make a game winning pass. They all went through the same shit I did, they survived, and they kept going. For that, they have my respect.

  Cheerleaders don't have time for that many extra girls on the squad, though, so they do it differently. Whatever. What do I care? I'm not a cheerleader. Never wanted to be one, either. They can do what they want.

  The thing is, Ashley was trying out that year. Never thought of her as the cheerleader type, but I could definitely get used to seeing her in those short skirts. I kept glancing over during practice to see what was going on with her, and she looked like she was doing alright. Struggling a little, but whatever. Everyone has to start somewhere, right? I admit she's not the most athletic girl in the world, but I feel like she has potential if you give her a chance.

  So... well... yeah, my dreams that night consisted of the heavy sleep of someone who is drop dead tired from exertion, none of their muscles able to do much more than almost flex, and thinking about what it'd be like to throw a game winning touchdown, and have one of the cheerleaders run out on the field, jump into my arms, wrap her legs around my waist, and just make out with me right there.

  In my mind, the cheerleader may or may not have been Ashley. That was before all this crazy shit happened. Don't get any ideas. She still wore glasses then, and maybe our parents were dating but they never told us. I didn't know she was going to be my stepsister some day. I didn't know we'd end up in this screwed up "with benefits" situation that we're in now.

  I wish I'd known. Maybe it would have made all this easier. Probably not. Oh well.

  She never came back after that, though. Just left. I don't know what happened. I guess I've always kind of wondered, but it's none of my business. Maybe she hated it.

  It would have been nice, though. Not my dream, because what the fuck, what do I care about that? I mean, yeah, that would have been nice, too, but...

  Just would have been nice seeing her on the sidelines, cheering. I don't know why. Don't ask me that. It's complicated. Confusing as fuck, even to me.

&
nbsp; Tonight is different. It's nice, but in a different way.

  I wake up in the middle of the night and there's some cuddly fucking teddy bear on me or something? When I open my eyes, I see her. Her hair's covering her face a little, but she's got her head on my shoulder, cheek cradled against my neck. One of her arms clings to me tight, and she has her leg wrapped around me, too.

  Also, she's naked. Yeah, that's right. Of course she is, since I stripped her down before we got into bed. I'm naked, too. And hard as fuck. She moves a little in her sleep and her leg shifts closer to me, rubbing against my cock. I twitch uncontrollably. This isn't supposed to be erotic. She's sleeping for fuck's sake!

  I guess it's not that it's erotic, it's just that I can't help it. I can't stop thinking about her. I don't know why, I just can't.

  I have one arm tight around her, under her head, holding her close. I move my other hand to grab her leg and pull her even closer to me. She opens her mouth and yawns slightly, then mumbles in her sleep. I wonder what she's dreaming about? You think it's about me? That'd be nice, huh?

  I caress my fingers up her thigh to the center of her body, then nearer to her ass. I hold her there, squeezing slightly.

  This week is supposed to be about her. About making her feel better. More confident. I know that, but I can't help wanting to explore every inch of her body, too. I want to touch her all over, to figure her out, to map her entire fucking existence in my mind so I'll never forget it. I stretch my fingers lower, reaching around and behind her, until my fingertips tease at the entrance to her sex.

  Just a little. I just want to fucking touch her. I'm not going to do anything weird or twisted. Get the fuck out of here. I hold her like that and she shivers and trembles in my arms, then clings tighter and closer to me. I move my hand away slightly and rub up and down her thigh, calming and smooth.

  I kiss her. Her forehead. Yeah, fuck you, I kiss her forehead. She wrinkles her nose a little, probably because her hair is in her face, tickling her. I kiss her nose, too. Then her eye, her cheek. I crane my neck up and to the side until I can kiss her on the lips, too. She pouts her lips a little, wrinkling her nose, then she kisses in her sleep. Not a real kiss, nothing crazy and passionate and full of lust, but it's sweet and cute and nice.