****
After a several hour drive Sasha finally arrived at a sleepy Colorado ski village. She located Dan's house and stopped her car in front of the gate and peered up at the massive edifice. She had heard Dan was rich, but damn--she couldn't fathom the amount of money it took to live here, in this valley high up in the mountains, with other multi-million dollar mansions all perched on the hillside. She punched in the security code, watched the gate roll aside, and then drove up the winding brick driveway to the house.
She opened the door and stepped inside. "Jesus," she said aloud as her eyes took in the expansive dwelling. And she had the place all to herself until tomorrow morning when her mom and Dan were scheduled to arrive.
Why not really enjoy the place? After all, no one was going to show up until tomorrow. She cranked up the thermostat to a sinful 80 degrees. And who needed clothes when it was this hot? She took them off and left them crumpled in a small pile in the middle of a hallway.
She then wandered into the kitchen. Rich people drank wine, didn't they? She found a dusty bottle on the counter with an elaborate French label: Chateau Vouvray Chenin Blanc, Vintage 1977. Sounded good to her. She popped the cork and poured herself a glass. She also grabbed a small chunk of cheese from the fridge; nothing like a bit of cheese to go with a good glass of wine. She walked naked into the living room, sipping her wine and nibbling on her cheese.
How about a fire? Just for ambience's sake? She got one going in the fireplace and sprawled out in front of it.
"All alone and nothing to do," she said quietly to herself. Her hands started wandering to her breasts. Might as well fuck herself silly.
But first, more wine. She took another sip, then dipped her fingers in the glass. Her wine-soaked fingers found her mouth, traced her lips, played with her nipples until they morphed to rock-hard pebbles, and then slowly traversed their way across her torso and down to her already wet and aching sex. They danced along the hood of her clit, transporting her to another place, a place where Trey, her roommate's boyfriend, was about to fuck her brains out.
No, we can't, she imagined herself insisting as his big, muscular body held her against the bed. No, we really shouldn't… He ignored her and yanked her little shorts down roughly. She was ready for him to take her, but she closed her legs tight, giving him just enough room to slide one hand in. His hand made a slow, tingling move between her sensitive thighs, one that took her breath away for a moment. But she couldn't keep him away from her, not when he was overwhelming her like that. She let him touch her down there with his fingers, where no one else had ever felt her before. She realized he was going to fuck her hard right then and there.
"Trey," she gasped loudly as she furiously fingered herself. She was getting close already.
"Oh yeah, baby. Do me," she moaned and yelped as the pleasure made her surge closer and closer to the edge. She was so close now, it was unbearable. "Fuck me! Harder!"
She climaxed, feeling the first big spasm take her. She kept going, fantasizing that he was still fucking her, giving it to her ferociously. She deliriously rubbed her pearl, her hips off the floor and in the air. She collapsed into animal-like wails as the orgasm overtook her.
"Oh Trey!"
She felt the energy drain out of her body as she rested on the floor. She wanted to do it again. But first, she needed more wine. She walked back to the kitchen, and as she rounded the corner to enter it her eye caught the backside of a man in ski clothes rummaging through the refrigerator.
Sasha shrieked, and spun around and ran back into the hallway from which she came.
"Hello?" a voice called out after her.
She rushed back to her clothes, threw them on, and returned to the kitchen, her heart pounding.
"Hey," the guy said, "did you drink all my dad's Vouvray? And eat the rest of the sharp cheddar?"
"I, I think I did. Sorry," Sasha stammered. The guy grinned at her. She had gotten over her shock just enough to start taking him in. His baggy ski outfit was covered in snow, and his goggles were shoved up onto his helmet at a totally lopsided angle. He started chugging milk from the gallon jug he was holding.
"Conditions were epic today," he gushed, wiping milk off his face with his sleeve. "Powder up to my waist!" He took another gulp from the bottle. "So you must be Sasha?"
"Yeah," she said, wanting to hide. He held his hand out for her to shake, then without warning, pulled her in for a hug. She fought the urge to push him away, her face buried in his wet ski jacket. It smelled bad, like weed and BO.
"Tom," he said. "I'm Dan's son. Nice to meet you." He walked out of the kitchen, his ski boots clomping on the tile. "Conditions were gnarly!" he yelled as he headed for his room.
She said a silent prayer, hoping he hadn't heard her in the living room. There was a good chance he had, she realized. God, and now she was trapped in the house with him. And he seemed a little weird. Too friendly and gregarious for her tastes.
As a family. Ugh! She threw on her coat, walked out into the cold to her van, and left for town. She wished her mom was here already, then at least she would have someone to talk to.
She got back to the house around 10 o'clock. Tom was sitting at the kitchen table, hunched over a book. He looked up when he heard her walk in.
She started when she saw his face. He was good looking. He had long, shaggy dark-brown hair. His face was chiseled and angular, sporting a dark five o'clock shadow. He looked older than a college boy. He was wearing a dark red flannel shirt, and it sat nicely on his wide shoulders.
"Tom?"
"Yeah," he said, looking a little confused. "We met earlier."
"You look…different," she said.
"Oh. Well I was hoping we could go out or something, maybe grab a drink. But then you left."
"Uh, sorry." She felt like she had blown it. "We can still go out," her voice trailed hopefully.
"Nah," he said. He closed his book with a clap. "It's too late. Let's just watch a movie or something."
Sasha hurried up to her room and quickly changed into something more comfortable: pajama bottoms and a t-shirt. She had felt freaked out by Tom before, but now she was intimidated by him. She turned in front of the mirror to check herself out. Maybe it was ridiculous that she was checking herself out in pajamas. In any case, she looked hot and she knew it. She wasn't the skinny, gangly girl she had been when she had left for college a year and a half ago, that was for sure. She gave herself one final look-over and walked back downstairs.
Tom already had a movie queued up when she returned to the living room.
"Hey," she said, plopping herself down on the couch Indian-style, her back against the armrest so she could face him.
"Hey yourself."
"What are we watching?"
"The November Man. It looks pretty bad, but my dad doesn't have a lot of movies here."
"That's fine. I'm not picky," Sasha said, settling into the couch.
"I was going to suggest wine and Scrabble. But that's what I do when I want to hook up with a girl," Tom said. Sasha felt her face flush.
"What, you do that every time?"
"Not really..." A mischievous grin spread across his face. "Actually, kind of. After we go out for Thai food," he chuckled. "And I always pick the same booth in the corner. The staff thinks I'm an asshole now."
"That's really bad," she tittered, despite herself. How could he be so brazen?
"But I'll be good around you," he said. "I promise."
"You better." She kicked him playfully. Or maybe it was more like feeling his thigh with her foot.
"Hey," he said, "Do you just go around feeling guys up?"
"Yes," she said, laying down on the couch and using his thigh as a pillow. Talking to Tom felt so...comfortable; like she had known him forever. The opening scene of the movie droned on. Two guys on the screen were talking in a café, spies or something.
"You're not watching the movie," Tom observed. "I go to all this trouble to get everything set up.
.."
"Okay, okay. I'm watching. I'm sorry…sheesh."
"So ungrateful. You drink all my dad's expensive wine, you bail on me, you don't want to watch the movie I've picked..."
"Shut up! I'm watching it," she giggled and nudged him again, harder this time. Sasha readjusted herself on the couch and sat up next to him. At that moment Tom's phone buzzed. He pulled it out of his pocket to retrieve the message but dropped it on the floor instead.
"Texting one of your girlfriends?" she teased.
"You're a brat. And stop feeling me up."
She gave him another slap for good measure. He grabbed her hand and put it in her lap, leaning his body into hers as she squirmed in protest. She pushed him away with mock indignance.
"Keep your hands to yourself, mister!" She hit him again as soon as he let go. She squealed when he roughly grabbed her shoulders and began to push her down on the couch.
"All this touching and slapping has got me suspicious," he said. She squeaked when his body rolled onto hers, pinning her down. She could feel her heart pounding in her throat. "If I didn't know any better, I would think you wanted to fuck me."
"What?" her voice was barely above a whisper.
"You heard me," Tom murmured. His hand briefly explored her, brushing against one of her breasts. Her chest started heaving. Was this really happening? She let him feel her for a few seconds. She almost felt more breathless than aroused. She pushed his hand away, weakly. She liked touching it.
"Stop," she breathed. He ignored her. She didn't mean it anyway. When his fingers touched her nipples, it sent a pulsing wave of pleasure down her body.
"Stop," she said again, as he felt her more forcefully, teasing her nipples to full attention. He kissed her on the lips, and she kissed him back, softly.
"I gotta get some water," he said, standing up. "Dehydrated from skiing all day."
"Okay," she said. She rolled over so her ass was in the air, waiting for him to come back. She felt like a hot mess. What if they had sex, like now? She hadn't pictured her first time being anything like this. A couple of hours ago she didn't even like him.
Tom walked back in, and Sasha made room for him on the couch. She lay down with her head on his thigh again. He played idly with her hair, his hands sometimes wandering to her neck and breasts as the sounds of explosions and screeching tires kept coming from the TV. 'What now?' she thought. She still felt aroused, but Tom seemed content to just sit there with her. Was he having second thoughts because she was his stepsister? Or was he deliberately teasing her, making her want him even more?
"I gotta get up early tomorrow," Tom said. "I'm going backcountry skiing again."
"Okay," Sasha replied, nuzzling him. He got up. She was disappointed.
"Night," he said.
****
Sasha woke up on the couch the next morning to bright daylight streaming in through the windows. She groped around for her phone, wondering how late it was. Dan and her mom were scheduled to arrive at nine. She got up and walked to the kitchen to make sure everything looked neat and tidy. Where was Tom? Probably out skiing or something, she thought, forgetting that Tom went to bed early last night just for that reason. She walked quietly to his room. The door was ajar, and she pushed it open. No sign of him. She stepped inside. His phone was laying on the bed. She glanced briefly at the designs on the fat, weirdly-curved powder skis leaning against the wall. Then she quietly laid down on his bed and turned on his phone to snoop. She held her breath in as she looked at all the names on his texts: Olivia, Stacy, Ashleigh, Katy, Jessica, Jessica 2, Jessica (library), Hippy Laura... her thumb flipped the page upwards...Kyleen, Kahea, etcetera. Lots of girls.
"What are you doing?"
Sasha almost jumped. Tom had caught her. He was in his boxers, pulling on a tight, long-sleeved blue undershirt.
Looking at your phone... she thought, shit.
"Sorry, I was just looking for you," she said, still holding his phone.
"I should know better than to leave that lying around." He held out his hand to take it back.
"I'm still looking at it," Sasha said, swinging away from him, "Who is Hippy Laura?"
"Give that back," Tom said, grabbing her ankle. She shrieked and slapped his hand away. He circled around the bed, and Sasha scooted away.
"Who's Trey?" he asked, when he had finally cornered her.
"What?" Sasha squeaked. Her face felt immediately hot and red.
Tom got on the bed, and on top of her. His body pressed hard into hers, pinning her to the mattress. She tried to push him away, but to no avail.
"Who's Trey," he repeated, reaching for his phone. Sasha waved it out of the way, but he grabbed her wrist, holding it down to the mattress.
His body was between her legs, and she realized, slowly, deliciously, that his hard cock was pressing into her heat. She melted into the mattress, moving her hips so she could feel him moving against her. She tried to push him off again.
"What did you do to Hippy Laura?"
"Bad things," he said, sitting up and wrenching down her pajama bottoms. She shrieked, her hands reaching out to stop him, but just a second too late. He peeled them off triumphantly and dropped them to the floor. Sasha's heart was racing harder than she thought it could. She was in front of her stepbrother in her red lace panties. He grabbed her ankles and dragged her to the edge of the bed. She waited to feel him on top of her, finally taking her. His hands touched the insides of her thighs, sending an ocean of chills washing through her. He was so close. His finger ran down the edge of the crotch of her panties, lifting it up, and in the process grazed her petals. Sasha heard a sound halfway between a moan and an impatient whine escape from her lips. Tom brushed her swollen clit with the tip of his middle finger, ever so gently. She jumped slightly, feeling the sensation flash through her like a bolt of lightning. He started to play with her, nudging her slick pearl this way and that. She closed her eyes, losing herself to the feeling. And then she felt him slowly plunge one finger inside her, millimeter by torturous millimeter. She wailed her anguish out loud. She couldn't help it. His fingertip touched the spot she always used to make herself cum, and then he started pressing against it, hard. He roughly jabbed two fingers inside her and started to work her spot. She convulsed every time they raked over it. She couldn't believe what he was doing to her, how wet she was. He kept touching her there, pressing up against it until she knew she was about to go over the edge.
"Stop," she said, pushing his arm away hard. She was seconds away from cumming. He pulled out of her, and she lay limp on the bed, heaving. He laid down on top of her, his bare thighs pressing against hers.
She could feel his thick cock, its hard tip ever-so-slightly touching her own throbbing wetness. Sasha inched downwards, until he started to part her outer petals. It was like teetering at the edge of a precipice, and only her own anxiety about the unknown was keeping her from taking the long, hot plunge.
"Wait--how many girls have you been with?" She had never heard her own voice straining with so much anguish.
"Ten," he whispered.
"Okay," she breathed. She couldn't decide if that was a lot. Just that she wanted him to take her, right now. He hesitated. The tip of his cock was pressed into her part way, resting between her outer petals, and the feeling sent waves of agony coursing up her body. 'Fuck me now!' she almost screamed out loud.
"What about you?"
"What?" Her voice came out less than a whisper, just a tiny rush of air.
"How many guys?" He kissed her eyelids.
"None. I'm a virgin."
He kissed her, and she kissed him back with reckless abandon. Their mouths moved as if they were one. His tongue nudged hers one last time before he pulled away, and it made her stomach feel like it was plunging down an elevator shaft.
He grabbed her waist and finally pushed into her. His cock strained against her hymen, then popped through and plunged deep inside her. She was deflowered, conquered and gloriously filled to t
he limit with her stepbrother's thick, hard rod.
He took her slowly, and every languorous plunge was like riding a slow, hot tidal wave of dirty ecstasy. She thought it was supposed to hurt the first time, not feel magnificent like this. She closed her legs around him, lovingly taking in the way his body rocked into hers, delivering his hot stabs of pleasure. When he slowed down and held her for a second, she could feel his breath panting hard against her neck. Even that made her moan; if he had just sat there it could have made her cum. She never thought her senses could be heightened like this. And he was so bad, the way he had overwhelmed her and taken her.
"Does it hurt?" he breathed.
"Go harder, baby."
He pushed deeply into her, filling her to the point that she feared her pussy would burst or fail her. She grabbed his muscular ass and tried to keep him there, buried deep, all the way inside her. He pulled away and started to fuck her harder, plunging in deeply every time.
"Harder, faster" she begged, in a whisper. She felt like the air was being forced out of her lungs with every plunging thrust. It felt so good, and she just wanted him to do it harder. He gripped her thighs and pummeled her savagely. She wailed, delirious with pleasure. He plundered her completely, taking her for a long ride before he finally slowed down. Her hands explored his body feverishly as he fucked her frantically. He was close to cumming now, too. All she wanted was to soar off the orgasmic cliff with him.
He fucked her, push after agonizing push, his body shaking. With one final thrust he pushed into her, a strangled gasp escaping his lips. Sasha came at the same moment his warm seeds came flooding into her.
It was like nothing she had ever experienced. She had never thought that cumming while impaled on a cock would feel this good. Her whole body was being squeezed, again and again until she was limp, her mind floating somewhere up into the clouds. She rolled luxuriously in his bed, her body taking the sheets with her. Her arm flopped over onto Tom's chest. She wanted him to hold her, to be close to him as she enjoyed riding this long descent of weightlessness. A moment later she heard footsteps coming down the hall towards the room.
Taboo Step Surrender (Steamy Twenty Book Box Set) Page 9