by Sophie Stern
We're back, as promised, in time for supper. Despite spending the day alone in our own private world, alternating between swimming and fucking, I'm tense when Ryan and I get back to the house. It's not that I don't want to spend time with my mom and Darin. It's that I don't want to spend time thinking about Ryan being my new brother.
We both exchange knowing glances anytime my mom mentions "siblings" or how happy our "family" is going to be after the wedding. Though Ryan and I both live on our own, she has this idea that we're all going to be together on holidays and birthdays for the rest of our lives.
And it's pretty fucking weird that the only way I want to be together with Ryan is with his cock sliding deep into my pussy, claiming me as his own.
"Do you have any other plans for your summer break?" Mom asks Ryan, trying to get the conversation going.
"Just work." He says simply, taking a bite of his pasta, carefully avoiding eye contact with me. I know he's not stripping anymore, but I realize suddenly that I have no idea what he actually does.
"Where do you work?" Mom asks on cue.
"Ryan is the manager at a restaurant in Kansas City," Darin tells Mom. It's something I've heard him say before, but now I wonder if it's true. Ryan has a lot of secrets, obviously. Maybe his true profession is something that's going to remain a mystery.
"That's nice. I keep telling Ashley that she should work at a restaurant," Mom comments.
"Mom," I start. "I don't need help finding a job. My job is just fine."
She rolls her eyes, obviously displeased at my current position.
"What do you do?" Ryan asks, suddenly interested.
"She just works at a bookstore," Mom tells him before I can open my mouth. "I told her she'd make a lot more waiting tables and besides, she'd meet a lot more men."
Ryan's eyes twinkle and he comments, "Oh, I think Ashley does just fine meeting guys."
I squeeze his thigh, trying to get him to stop, but it just seems to egg him on.
"In fact," he continues, ignoring the way I'm sliding my hand up to his bulge, "She was telling me about this really hot guy she met about a month ago. What was his name again?"
Mom and Darin both look at me.
"Adam," I mumble, lying through my teeth, not being able to admit that I went with Sasha to a male revue. That's not really something you want your perfect, overbearing mother to know about, at least not when she's sold on trying to convince you to get married and have babies.
"How come I haven't heard about this?" Mom asks, a look of disappointment flashing in her eyes.
"He's away a lot for work," Ryan says quickly. "She probably just hasn't had a chance to introduce you yet."
Mom looks from me to Ryan and back again before smiling.
"Well, I'm glad there's someone special in your life, Dear," she manages to get out. I can tell from her forced grin that she's secretly pissed I didn't tell her. Not that there is actually anything to tell, since "Adam" doesn't exist and Ryan and I are not dating.
We're just fucking.
"It's nothing serious, Mom," I say quickly. "That's why I didn't bring it up before. We've only been out twice."
"Well," Mom says, starting to clear the table. "Hopefully you can bring him to the wedding. It would be a pity for you to get stuck dancing with your brother all night."
Ryan smirks as my hand squeezes his dick beneath the table.
A pity indeed.
7.
"You were pretty naughty tonight, Sister."
"Was I?" I ask innocently as I finish washing a plate. Mom and Darin decided to go for a walk on the beach, so Ryan and I are alone, at least for now.
I feel him press against me from behind. His dick is hard against my ass.
"Did you like rubbing my cock in front of our parents?" He whispers in my ear. Ryan slides his hands around my body and up my shirt, cupping my breasts. I suck in my breath sharply at his touch, suddenly aware of my growing arousal.
"Yes," I tell him honestly. "I liked touching you when they couldn't see. They had no idea I would touch my stepbrother's cock."
"You're a bad girl, Ashley," Ryan squeezes my nipples, pinching them playfully. "And I think you need to be punished."
If I wasn't paying attention before, I certainly am now. I whirl around to face him, but he starts kissing me before I can speak. Hot and passionate, he squeezes my ass and pulls me closer to himself before I finally manage to ask my question.
"How are you going to punish me, Ryan?" I've slept with a lot of guys. None of them have ever been into punishment, even when I've asked. The one boyfriend I managed to convince to spank me touched me so lightly I felt like he was petting a cat: not spanking his naughty, naughty girlfriend.
Now that I'm alone with Ryan, here in the kitchen, under the threat of punishment, I'm getting wet. My pussy tightens at the thought of his firm hand against me.
I wonder if he's going to tie me up.
I wonder if he's going to make me beg for it.
No matter what he does, I know that I'm going to enjoy it just as much as he does.
"Upstairs," Ryan tells me. "Go to your room and undress. Wait for me there."
I nod and turn to leave, but he grabs my arm before I can leave.
"And Ashley?"
"Yes?"
"No getting started without me."
8.
Each step toward my room feels like a mile. It only takes me a few minutes to get inside my bedroom and undress, but it feels like I've been away from Ryan for hours when I finally get naked and climb onto the bed.
I realize, as I wait, that I don't know how I should be waiting for him. Should I lie down on the bed? Should I sit? Should I be kneeling with my hands behind my back?
Before I can worry too much, the door opens and Ryan enters. He closes the door silently behind himself before walking over to me. I bite my lip as I watch him slowly take his shoes off one by one, then his shirt, then his pants.
When he's in his boxers, he sits down on the bed and pulls me over his lap.
Quietly, Ryan begins to rub my ass slowly.
"You've been bad, Ashley," he says again.
I remain quiet as he strokes me, feeling myself grow more and more aroused at the way he's rubbing me.
Ryan notices my arousal. I detect a hint of a smile as he comments, "You're wet, dirty girl."
He slides a finger into my wet pussy, then pulls it out again and continues to rub my ass. I wiggle beneath his touch, and he pulls my hair.
"Stay still," he whispers.
Then his hand moves away and comes down hard on my ass.
"Ouch!" I cry out at the touch, but he's rubbing me again, soothing the sting away.
"That's right, you've been bad," he purrs, and spanks me again, followed by more rubbing. Over and over, the spanking, followed by gentle touches, continues.
Warmth spreads throughout my entire body as he continues my punishment. Despite the stinging of each slap, I can't help but think this was completely worth being bad for.
I feel Ryan's cock growing hard beneath me as he continues to spank me. My legs are squeezed tightly together. Each swat sends a shiver down my legs and back up to my clitoris, aching for more.
I think I might come if he doesn't stop soon, but Ryan seems to notice and gives me a choice.
"Do you want to come on my face or with my cock deep inside of you?"
The choice isn't hard at all.
9.
Once I'm positioned over Ryan's face, he starts licking my clit. His tongue roams up and down my folds before plunging into me and back out again, taking his time to bring me to orgasm.
After my spanking, though, I'm all warmed up and it doesn't take long before I'm writhing on his face, taking everything he's willing to give, enjoying every second of his tongue against my pussy.
As I calm down from my orgasm, he flips me onto the bed and slides his cock into me. At the sensation of his dick pushing inside of me, I orgasm again almost immediately.
Bucking beneath him, I race my hands down his back and back up again, settling my hands in his hair.
"Yes," I murmur, losing myself in the moment, forgetting for just a second where I am and who I'm with and everything but the way my entire body feels alive.
He dips his head down and takes my breast into his mouth. Ryan bites me gently before starting to lick each nipple in turn. His mouth seems to be everywhere all at once and I am smitten with the sensation.
The sound of the front door opening downstairs alerts us to the fact that our parents aren't home, but Ryan doesn't stop thrusting.
He just grins and covers my mouth with one hand, motioning for me to stay quiet as he continues to fuck me.
Now I'm definitely a bad girl, upstairs fucking Darin's son while he has no idea. I hear Mom call my name, trying to see if we're home, but I stay quiet.
It's not easy to keep from moaning as he fills me with his cock. Every inch of my body wants to cry out, to scream from the pleasure, but his hand keeps me quiet until he, too, reaches release.
Ryan murmurs my name as he comes and it hangs in the air, sweet and wonderful, as he collapses next to me.
"You were right," I finally say. "You are a god."
10.
After only two short days with my soon-to-be stepbrother, it's time to return home to my job, my summer classes, and my ordinary life.
Mom and Darin plan to stay a few extra days at the beach house and Ryan's flight doesn't leave 'til Monday, so he offers to take me to the airport.
The drive is strangely quiet.
We don't touch our hold hands.
We've done enough touching to last us a lifetime, but we both know it's only a matter of time before these urges strike us again.
We're too good together to let our parents get in the way of that.
What we have is much too fun to stop.
"Are you still a dancer?" I ask suddenly, breaking the silence, wondering where he's been the last month.
A small smile plays on his lips.
"Why? Are you jealous?"
"A little," I say honestly, thinking of the way he spent the weekend fucking me, not wanting to think of him sharing that with other women.
Ryan laughs.
"Nope. That was just a temporary gig, though one I thoroughly enjoyed. I actually do work at a restaurant now, just like Dad said."
"Gonna be a chef someday?"
"Something like that."
The rest of the ride is quiet, but he squeezes my hand and holds it until we arrive. Ryan hands me my bag at the airport and gives me a long hug, holding me just a minute longer than necessary.
A million things race through my mind. What will happen if our parents find out? What am I going to tell Sasha? How am I going to start dating normal guys again after being fucked crazy all weekend?
Can anyone else ever compare to Ryan?
Do I even want them to?
While most of me knows that what we did all weekend was wrong, there's a darker, deeper part of me that loved it. There's a part of me that wonders how long we're going to keep this dirty little secret. There's a part of me that wants it to last forever.
"Until we meet again, little sister," Ryan whispers to me.
He claims me in one last dazzling kiss, and then it's time for me to go.
"Goodbye, stepbrother," I say.
Then he's gone.
Author
Sophie Stern lives in the Midwest, where she loves dreaming up the weirdest sexual situations she can. She resides with her husband of 10 years who is a constant source of encouragement - and inspiration.
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Seducing the Lawyer
Did you enjoy My Darling Stepbrother?
Check out this excerpt from Sophie Stern's short story, Seducing the Lawyer.
Available NOW on Amazon.
The law office is quiet and clean when I walk inside. There’s no receptionist, which is strange, but there’s a small desk in the center of the waiting room. I walk up to it and peek over to make sure there isn’t a tiny old lady hiding behind the desk. There’s not, so I realize that I really am on my own.
I ring the tiny bell that’s perched on the end of the desk. The loud ding reverberates throughout the entire room, making me feel tiny, making me feel even more alone than I already am. Nothing happens, so I take a seat in one of the chairs against the wall and make myself comfortable.
Well, as comfortable as I can get, given the situation. It’s only been a couple of days since I found out that Sam’s lawyer is trouble. Though my brother’s charges were minimal and all evidence was circumstantial, his current attorney urged him to plead guilty. Then when it came time to go before a judge, the attorney bailed.
Sam has one chance to find someone better to represent him or he’s getting the maximum penalty.
I can’t let that happen.
My friend Sandra used to be a paralegal for this amazing attorney, or so she says. She quit a few months ago when she had her baby. Of course, I asked her who I should call to help Sam, and she immediately recommended James.
“He doesn’t come cheap,” she warned me.
“I don’t have any money,” was my response. It’s true. I work two jobs and I’m in college full-time. The idea of “spending money” is a joke to me. I have exactly $500 in my checking account and I plan to use all of it to help Sam, but I doubt it’s enough to get me a lawyer like Sam Peak.
“He doesn’t always work for cash,” Sandra said slowly. My eyes widened at the thought.
And now I’m here, waiting in a cold, sterile sitting room for a lawyer who may turn out to be as big of an asshole as the last one, hoping beyond hope that he’ll let me work out some sort of barter for his services.
I scheduled the appointment for 10am. It’s 10:15 now and there’s still no sign of him. I stand and start pacing the room, wondering if I should knock on the office door. My hand raises on its own and moves forward to knock, but I force it back down.
He’ll come get me when he’s ready.
Maybe James Peak is doing something important. Maybe he’s with another client or on a phone call. I don’t know. What I do know is that I should have brought a book or downloaded a movie on my phone before I came. Anything would be better than just sitting and watching the wallpaper.
I hear footsteps in the hall and I sit down quickly, brushing my skirt down, smoothing it. I hope I don’t look as desperate as I feel. Then again, maybe I hope I look exactly as desperate as I feel.
This is my last chance to save my little brother.
This is my last chance to have a normal life.
The man who walks through the doorway looks me up and down rather quickly before walking to the office door. I barely have time to admire his square jaw or his piercing blue eyes. He’s tall: I’d guess 6’2” or 6’3”, and even from across the room, I’m intimidated by his height. The suit he’s wearing fits him perfectly. I’d guess he had it custom tailored. I wonder briefly what it’s like to have that kind of money.
He pulls a key out of his pocket and unlocks the office door unceremoniously. Then he simply walks in.
“Coming?” he calls out.
So much for introductions.
I hurry to follow him. My heels clack noisily against the wood floor as I scurry into the office and close the door behind me. He’s already sitting at his desk, waiting.
I feel rushed and unprepared, suddenly wondering what the hell I’m doing here.
You can do this, I remind myself. You can do this for Sam.
“Mr. Peak,” I say. “I’m Laney Erickson. We spoke on the phone.”
“I know who you are, Miss Erickson,” James says flatly, not smiling, not giving me any indication that he’s happy to meet me. I shouldn’t expect much. I get it. I’m not exactly anyone special.
Suddenly, I
’m self-conscious about my appearance. I shouldn’t have worn this outfit today. I should have worn the pantsuit, the one that makes me look older. Maybe the problem is something else. Maybe it’s my hair. Not everyone likes the pink streaks that flow through my brunette curls.
I bite my bottom lip.
I don’t know what to say, what to do, where to go from here.
James Peak is Sam’s only hope and it’s not looking promising.
I stand in front of his desk for what feels like hours until he finally motions to me.
“Take a seat, Miss Erickson.”
“You can call me Laney,” I mumble as I slide into one of the comfortable velvet chairs that sits in front of his desk. I cross and uncross my legs. I fold my hands in my lap, then smooth down my skirt, then fold my hands again.
I sneak a quick peek at James’ face, but he looks amused. Really? He thinks this is funny, making me wait on him? My stomach drops. He’s not going to help me. I close my eyes and my heart fills with dread. When Sandra assured me that there were other ways to pay for James’ services, I thought she meant I’d be servicing him. I could live with that. I just didn’t think that maybe I wouldn’t be pretty enough for him.
When James speaks again, it’s not to kick me out of his office. In fact, he stares at me for a few moments and seems to be deciding something. Then he gives me his full attention.
“Please, Laney, tell me more about your brother.”
“Right.” I take a deep breath. “He was arrested for selling weed.”
“And why should I help a drug dealer?” James’ face remains blank. He doesn’t even shrug. He just asks me why he should care.
This is it.
This is my moment of truth.
“He’s innocent,” I state, prepared to plead my case with him. “The cop said he-“
James holds up a hand, stopping me.
“I didn’t ask why you feel that your brother is innocent, Laney. I asked why I should help.”