Monster Stepbrother

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Monster Stepbrother Page 3

by Harlow Grace


  The face was still there—along with the image of her tits and her hand down her shorts. I cursed out loud and slapped Bianca’s ass, hard, smiling as she cried out my name. Although I’d had release, I didn’t feel any better. My dick was still hard as hell knowing Maya was just on the other side of a thin wall and had probably heard everything.

  “Turn around,” I ordered as I pulled my cock from Bianca’s pussy and flipped her over. “Hold on to the headboard and don’t let go. This is going to get rough.”

  “Oliver,” she screamed as I speared her ass, nowhere near ready to stop. I held back, going slowly at first until it had adjusted to the girth of my dick, before speeding up my movement. I reached forward and found her dripping wet pussy, fingering her clit while I fucked her ass. She moaned like a whore, pushing her ass back to meet me, the dull thud of the headboard against the wall making me grin.

  The hot little bitch on the other side had to know what was going on. I imagined her touching herself, wishing it was her taking a pounding from my cock. One day . . . one day I was going to have those bee stung lips around my cock. I was going to have her cum on my tongue. I was going to fuck her blind. She needed someone to teach her a lesson. I just had to wait, be patient. The time would come eventually when I could go after what I really wanted.

  Revenge.

  My head nearly exploded. I closed my eyes and filled Bianca’s ass with my cum. I grinned. The Scandinavian beauty passed the test. She could stay.

  Two hours later, with Bianca sprawled across the bed, passed out after I'd fucked her relentlessly, I collapsed into a heap on the mattress and fell into a deep sleep.

  *****

  Bianca complained that her pussy was sore and her thighs raw. I grinned, not in the least surprised after the way I’d ravished her over the last week. We showered and went downstairs for breakfast; I’d given her a t-shirt of mine to wear and a pair of silk boxers. It was mid morning and Mom had gone to her yoga class, so we had the house to ourselves for a few hours.

  I had no idea where Maya was; she hadn’t appeared since we’d been up and I was beginning to wonder if she was even home. I’d seen her hang around the house with her friend Quinn over the last seven days, and she’d given me a hard time whenever I’d bumped into her.

  Taking Bianca by the hand, I lead her to the pool area, a bottle of orange juice and two towels under my arm. We lazed on the deck chairs, soaking up the sun and dozing off to make up for the sleep we didn't get the night before.

  I woke from a sun-dazed sleep when ice cold water hit my overheated body. The shock made me sit upright, my heart beating like it wanted to jump out of my chest.

  “Fuck!” I yelled, pissed. Then I saw her. Maya was swimming laps, long arms slicing through the water gracefully. Bianca was still fast asleep, her skin turning pink from overexposure to the sun. Somehow Maya's splashing had hit only me. I got up to open the overhead umbrella, still managing to keep my eyes on the dark head moving swiftly through the water.

  About ten minutes later Maya emerged from the pool, her long, lean body covered by the same white bikini I’d seen her in before. The way she stood, it was completely transparent, showing every bit of her pink flesh through the wet fabric. Christ. The cock I’d thought was done for the day hardened to a six on the diamond scale.

  My mouth fell slightly open as I took in the hard nipples, the goose bumps on her skin, and her slit as the bikini bottom pulled up between her pussy lips. Camel toe had never looked so good.

  My heart slammed against my ribs. Maya looked straight into my eyes and smiled as she shook her hair, her tits jiggling as she moved her body from side to side. I was going to lose my shit any moment.

  Before I could react, she reached back and untied her bikini top, letting it drop to the floor. Then she stepped out of the bottoms until she stood dripping wet and completely naked in front of me. All the breath in my lungs expelled in one whoosh. I’d never seen anything so beautiful.

  Frozen to the spot, I watched her lean over and scoop the wet bikini from the grass, her perky ass practically in my face. I groaned. My cock was a ten on the diamond scale; it couldn’t get any harder.

  I wanted to reach out. To touch her. Such perfection was unreal. But I was paralyzed—I couldn’t move. Her pearly white teeth glistened in the sun as she grabbed a towel off a chair, wrapped it around her body, and walked off into the house.

  What. The. Fuck?

  If it weren’t for my painfully hard cock, I’d think I'd been dreaming.

  Chapter Five — Maya

  “Are you telling me you actually just stripped in front of Oliver and then left him hanging with a hard-on?” my best friend Quinn asked. I’d called her as soon as I’d come back inside because I needed her opinion on this. After all, she was the one who suggested it.

  My cheeks burned. “Yes.”

  “Shit, Maya, I’m impressed. When I told you to mess with him I hadn’t expected you to actually do it.” The awe in her voice made me chuckle.

  “I’m not that inexperienced,” I said, checking out my toenails. They were starting to chip from all the swimming and needed a new color. I'd get Quinn to paint them with the new polish she’d bought the day before.

  “I know, but this is Oliver we’re talking about. The encounters you’ve had are with guys our age. Oliver’s in a whole other league.”

  I shrugged. Oliver’s completely in a league of his own. “Yeah, well, I’m pretty sure for the first time ever I managed to fuck with his mind, so kudos to you for giving me that advice.”

  Images of Oliver sitting on that lounge chair, stunned into silence, flashed through my mind. His hard-on clear for all to see. I’d had him right where I wanted him. But for what? He was hardly going to touch me. No, Oliver simply liked to torment me, and that fact alone made me question why I even wanted him to touch me.

  What’s wrong with me? I was so screwed up to want him in that way.

  “So what’s the next thing you’re going to do to him?” she asked, as if I had this all figured out in my mind when in reality I had no clue what my next step would be. We’d discussed all the evil things he’d done to me over the years, the way he’d repeatedly humiliated me, and she’d come up with the idea to get back at him by torturing him this way.

  I lay back on my bed and twirled my hair in my fingers. “What do you suggest?”

  She remained silent for a moment. “Um, how far are you willing to take this? Do you want to sleep with him?”

  I groaned. Of course I wanted to sleep with him. But I’d never admit it, not even to my best friend. I was struggling to be honest about it with myself. Sometimes I truly hated him so much I wanted to kill him. “He’s shagging that blonde bitch with the big tits, remember? He doesn’t even look at me.”

  “Shit, you just need to get rid of your virginity already. Maybe you could take advantage of him for that. I bet Oliver King could teach you a thing or two.”

  Yeah, why am I holding out? Most of my friends were screwing their boyfriends, so what was I waiting for?

  My core clenched at the thought of Oliver fucking me. I’d fooled around with a couple of guys from school, but somehow I just couldn’t bring myself to let them go the distance. While I’d had a few orgasms, none of the guys were as experienced as Oliver. Just the idea of being fucked by a man who knew exactly what he was doing got me wet.

  Who was I kidding?

  The idea of Oliver fucking me got me wet.

  Oh God, I really was dirty.

  “I don’t want to give him my virginity,” I said after a few moments of silence, not entirely convinced I’d spoken the truth, but not willing to consider that my deepest desire involved sleeping with Oliver.

  “Why are you hanging onto your v-card, Maya? God, you’ve got guys panting after you, desperate to get in your pants.”

  I sighed. She’d never understand. Quinn had given hers up a year ago. She was the kind of girl who was completely comfortable in her sexuality, whereas I
wasn’t. I struggled to believe any guy would truly want me. The real me. Why would anyone choose to love me when I had nothing to offer him but flaws? I was so screwed up.

  “I’m waiting for the right guy,” I lied. It was easier to tell her this, especially as she couldn’t see my face. Usually she could read me and it was impossible to lie to her. But I just couldn’t explain it to her. Hell, I couldn’t even understand it myself.

  She didn’t need to know that in my mind the right guy was none other than my darling stepbrother. In my imagination we were perfect together. If that ever translated to real life, we’d be off the charts hot together.

  In a sick and twisted way I was saving my virginity for Oliver. How could I admit that to anyone?

  Quinn bought the lie and moved the conversation back to Oliver. “Okay, so sleeping with Oliver is out of the question. I vote you keep teasing him. Push him to his breaking point and then maybe you’ll be able to turn the tables. You need to get him eating out of your hand and then tell him to fuck off and leave you alone for good.”

  I wasn’t convinced her plan was the best way forward. Oliver was smart. He’d see right through me and then where would I be? On top of that, I wasn’t sure I had the confidence to pull it off. Not with Oliver. The man unnerved me. I hated him. I wanted him, but I hated him.

  Oh God, I dreamt of him.

  His hands on me.

  His naked body on top of mine.

  His mouth. Everywhere.

  I pressed my thighs together and took a deep breath. My arousal pulsed between my legs, reminding me how dirty I was. I had to stop thinking of Oliver this way. It was so very wrong.

  “No, I think I actually need to stay as far away from him as I can, Quinn. It’s safer that way.”

  “Suit yourself, but I’m telling you, Oliver King wants you. I watched him at the barbeque on Sunday and at dinner last night and I’ve seen the way his eyes follow your every move. He gets all antsy when you’re around, and I’ve seen how hot you get him just by being in the same room as him. He might treat you like shit but that’s just a cover. The man has it bad.”

  She was so wrong.

  Oliver King hated me and took every opportunity to let me know.

  Chapter Six — Oliver

  I was starting to think I’d imagined the whole thing at the pool. Maya avoided me, staying in her room or slipping out when I didn’t notice. I hung out with my friends, went to parties, or invited them back to the house where we’d lie around the pool drinking beer, cranking up the music and working on our suntans. Sometimes the beer went to our heads and we’d be totally juvenile and make idiotic jokes to pass the time.

  Bianca was unofficially my girlfriend and I definitely didn’t mind that I had a voluptuous blonde in my bed every night. The sex was phenomenal; she was something of a nympho and was always ready for anything I wanted. We’d found a copy of the Kama Sutra in the library and tried just about every position in the book, even the ones that seemed impossible.

  I screwed her every which way, trying to fuck the seething rage out of my body and my mind. But it seemed as if nothing helped. The anger stayed. The need remained. Nothing really satisfied the hollowness inside.

  I'd found out from Mom that the kid had a boyfriend and that she was staying over at her friend’s house a lot lately.

  “That girl thinks I’m stupid. She thinks I don’t know that while she’s pretending to be at Quinn’s house, she’s probably sleeping at her boyfriend’s place. But I’m not going to stir up trouble with Alec. It's not my damn problem what she does. Alec will have to deal with it if the little slut gets pregnant,” Mom said, crossing her arms over her chest. There was no love lost between these two.

  The thought of my stepsister with another boy shouldn’t have worried me, yet it was constantly on my mind. I found myself wondering how far she’d let him go, if she’d let him taste her, or finger her, or fuck her. Kids these days started young. I had no illusion about what went on—I’d been a horny-as-fuck teenager just a few years ago myself and I’d screwed any girl who was willing to spread her legs.

  Maya was far from innocent. Flashbacks of that day in her bedroom and at the pool still ran on auto-play in my mind. Shit. It still managed to get me hard just thinking about it.

  Because the little prick Maya was chatting to happened to be the same age as her, nobody blinked an eye. For fuck sake, I had to sit through dinner a few times watching her father just shrug and laugh when she hadn’t turned up yet again, saying it was cute that she’d found her first love. Cute? Really? Not.

  Reluctant to hear more about what Maya was up to, I sat there pretending to be calm while the fire burning in my gut made it unbearable to digest the thoughts, never mind the food. I needed to be indifferent.

  On occasion that she did bother to show up for dinner, she usually brought her friend along too. Quinn gave me the creeps. I’d catch her watching me with an amused expression, her gaze sharp as she sized me up. Why I felt she was constantly judging me, I had no clue. She’d never flirted with me or shown any interest, which was just as well. Although she was pretty, she just wasn’t my type.

  I'd learned from my friends who knew her that she was a year older than Maya and apparently not shy to go all the way with guys. I had an uneasy feeling that she was a bad influence on Maya. I'd have to keep my eye on her, ensuring she didn’t stir up trouble and push Maya into situations she wasn’t quite ready for.

  Then there was my mother. Secretly she was pleased that the competition for her husband’s attention was out of the house most of the time. A pure narcissist, she wanted to believe she was still the fairest of them all. She’d gladly hand her stepdaughter a poisoned apple and see her fall into a deep sleep, just like in the fairytale.

  The fact that Maya was only sixteen didn’t seem to worry anyone, including her father. As long as the boy she dated was from a “good family” everything was okay. Like hell. It wasn’t okay with me. Somebody had to protect her from herself. Wasn’t that what family was for?

  I shrugged. It really wasn’t any of my business and I wasn’t sure why the hell I let it bother me. I had my own damn life to live.

  I was here for my mother’s party and to have a good time. Nothing else.

  Chapter Seven — Maya

  Nobody had warned me that growing up was this hard to do. Thrown into a world of period pains, out of control hormones, and boys groping at my body at every opportunity was something I wished I’d known about before it happened. Larissa and I never spoke about anything remotely related to sexuality and I didn’t feel comfortable discussing these issues with Daddy.

  I’d gone from a bright sunshiny kid to a confused and bewildered teenager. Neither child nor woman, I wasn’t sure where I really fitted in. Daddy had become busier at work and spent most of his free time with Larissa, and I mourned the loss of the close relationship we’d had before my stepmother and her son changed our comfortable lives forever. There was no going back to the way things were—just Daddy and I—and I missed that closeness and familiarity we’d once had.

  With every passing birthday I missed my mom more. Wondering what it would be like to have her hold and comfort me and tell me that everything would be okay. To have her tell me about boys and what was happening to my body. To share my dreams with and have her believe in me.

  I was floundering—struggling with my desires and sexuality.

  That’s why when Quinn came into my life she was just what I needed. Her parents had just divorced and her mom relocated to our side of town just after her fifteenth birthday. Ever since we’d been tight, covering one another’s backs in every situation. I trusted Quinn with my life. Although she was only a year older than me, she had an old soul and was smart and wise—at least she was in my opinion.

  Luckily she had a great relationship with her mother, so she had a handle on most of the facts. But sometimes we had to Google shit to find out more than what her mother was willing to tell her. Like what a real penis
looked like. Shit, it was seriously the ugliest thing I’d ever seen. We’d seen pictures of girls our age taking an erect dick into their mouths, but when Quinn found a girl doing it on YouTube I nearly puked. I was sure I'd gag if I ever tried that.

  Except if it was Oliver’s dick. Knowing that bitch Bianca took his cock in her mouth had made we want to try it too. Jealousy flooded my insides, making my mouth water at the thought of Oliver’s dick between my lips.

  Oh God, I’m dirty for having these thoughts about my stepbrother. Shame washed over me and I felt like such a whore that I didn’t even tell Quinn about my fantasies.

  “Shit, Bee, I don’t have anything to wear to your stepmother’s party tonight. Can I borrow one of your dresses?” she said, eyeing me for my reaction.

  A pang pierced my heart. Whenever she called me “Bee” it immediately reminded me of Oliver. Not that he was ever far from my thoughts anyway, but it just made my heart ache in a strange way. I’d asked Quinn not to call me that, but when she got really excited, like now, she just automatically switched from Maya to Bee.

  That was one little cartoon bee I really wanted to hate. I never would’ve believed how a fictional character could affect my life. Daddy had told me my name meant “generous” in Old Persian and “love” in Nepali and I’d always loved my name.

  Until junior high school I hadn’t minded being called Maya the Bee. Kids could be cruel and some of my friends had copped it far worse than me. Gabriella had become “Garbage” and it ate at her self esteem, even though I kept reminding her that it was only stupid twatwaffles who called her that derogatory name.

  And then Oliver started calling me “little bee.” Deep down I loved that he had a special name for me. Lately I couldn’t hear the word “bee” without thinking of Oliver and how much he confused me.

  Misunderstanding my long pause before answering her, Quinn pulled a face at me. I snapped out of my Oliver haze. “Only if you help me pick out something sensational. I have first dibs.”

 

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