by Wilde, Ora
SmirK
A Stepbrother Romance
By Ora Wilde
Copyright 2015, Ora Wilde
All Rights Reserved. No part of this eBook may be reproduced or distributed, either manually or digitally, without the prior written consent of the author. Brief excerpts for the purpose of reviews are allowed.
WARNING:
This eBook contains graphic portrayals of sex. It is not intended for readers below 18 years of age.
DISCLAIMER:
None of the sexual acts depicted in this eBook involve minors, nor partners related in blood. The sexual acts depicted herein are all consensual. Though University of California in Los Angeles (UCLA) is mentioned in the pages hereof, none of the activities described herein as performed are factual.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
1.Hayden
2. Phoebe
3. Hayden
4. Phoebe
5. Hayden
6. Phoebe
7. Hayden
8. Phoebe
9. Hayden
10. Phoebe
11. Hayden
12. Phoebe
13. Hayden
14. Phoebe
15. Hayden
16. Phoebe
17. Hayden
18. Phoebe
19. Hayden
20. Phoebe
21. Hayden
22. Phoebe
23. Hayden
24. Phoebe
25. Hayden
26. Phoebe
27. Hayden
28. Phoebe
29. Hayden
30. Phoebe
31. Hayden
32. Phoebe
33. Hayden
34. Phoebe
35. Hayden
36. Phoebe
37. Hayden
38. Phoebe
39. Hayden
40. Phoebe
41. Hayden
42. Phoebe
43. Hayden
44. Phoebe
45. Hayden
46. Phoebe
47. Hayden
48. Phoebe
A Special Message From The Author
More From Ora Wilde
BONUS NOVELETTE:
STEPBROTHER: Bad Boy Blues
An Excerpt From
OUTCAST: A Stepbrother Romance
Chapter 1
HAYDEN
Her skin between her ear and her neck was as smooth as velvet. My tongue glided over its surface with so much fervor as the sweet scent of her perfume - the smell of lilac and mint - has proven to be undeniably alluring. And her moans... her soft, ecstatic moans... made me want her even more.
At least, that’s what the full erection of my cock was telling me.
Peeping out of my fly which she had earlier unzipped, my dick stood tall, reaching for the ceiling of the vehicle. Her hand masterfully stroked its shaft with a pace so perfect and a squeeze so masterful... I immediately knew that she has done that before. I continued to bury my mouth into her neck... deeper... more purposefully... more passionately... and she squeezed a little tighter and stroked a little faster, signifying that she liked what I was doing.
I inserted my hand inside her top, making my way to her breast. Her bosoms were just the right size... not small by any means, but not too big as to make them scary. The area around her tits was firm and supple. She took good care of her skin, that much I could tell. Smooth and milky white, it even felt better with my touch.
There, at the back seat of my Hummer, parked just outside her house where her folks were waiting for her to get home, we made out. The danger of getting caught made the entire session highly exhilarating... and very, very arousing.
Thrilled by the risks we were taking, I started to lick her neck, proceeding downwards to her collarbone... so very near her cleavage... the same cleavage that she always flaunted whenever she was near me the past few weeks. She probably noticed me staring at them when we were introduced. Since then, she always wore very revealing blouses, with necklines that plunged deeper and deeper with each meeting that followed.
I pressed her nipple, gently at first, but it was enough to make her squeal. I applied more force, pinching it like it was a grapefruit between my fingers, and she started to scream.
She was a sexual animal. It made me wonder how much noise she’d make if we were afforded the privacy of a room and the comfort of a bed.
My hand withdrew from her breasts, something which disappointed her as far as I could tell. But when I proceeded to lift up her short, flowing skirt and traversed the creamy skin of her inner thighs, with my fingers sailing towards the brim of her underwear - lacy and thin, she started to breathe harder in anticipation of what I was about to do next. I slid two digits inside her knickers and began to feel her slit... and as if on cue, she started to pant.
The cleft between her legs wasn’t difficult to find. She was completely shaven... flawlessly, in fact, that I didn’t feel a single stubble. Her skin down there was just as unblemished as the rest of her body.
As I caressed the lining of her cunt, a pleasantly sticky substance rubbed off my fingers.
She was wet.
She was very, very wet.
My lips found hers and our tongues clashed soon thereafter. She was a wild one. Her idea of a passionate kiss didn’t involve gentleness. She bit my lips with her teeth and she wrestled with my tongue as if it was raw meat being pulverized by a tenderizer. Her actions caught me by surprise, but I quickly adjusted.
In just a few seconds, I discovered that her untamed eagerness actually turned me on even more.
And so I pulled down her panties and threw them on the side of the seat. I held her hips and led her body on top of me. She willingly followed. As she sat on me, the trunk of my cock rubbed against her damp pussy. She started to rock back and forth as she continued to massacre my mouth.
“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit...” she mumbled. It wasn’t the most eloquent reaction I’ve heard at the height of passion, but the way she muttered those words was quite amusing.
As she swayed her body on top of mine, my cock inadvertently slipped inside her. She wasn’t prepared for the suddenness of that penetration. She screamed, very loudly, conveying astute agony and pleasure.
And she rocked more violently, escalating her pace with each swing of her fine body. She lifted up her top and pulled down her bra. She fondled her breasts before me, which I found highly stimulating. I reached for them with my mouth and sucked them whole, one after another. She moaned and moaned and moaned, as she swung even faster.
“Oh... fuck me, Hayden... please,” she begged, which I found funny because:
A. She was the one who was controlling the tempo; and
B. In effect, she was the one who was actually fucking me.
“Harder... please... faster... faster...” she added in between her wails.
Her pussy was tight. Not the tightest that I’ve experienced, but it was good enough for a quick lay. She didn’t do any muscle contraction that would’ve made things immensely gratifying. She has yet to learn that method, perhaps. In due time, she will.
But not with me.
“Oh God, Hayden, I’m coming... I’m coming...”
What? Wait? That soon? I’ve just been inside her for less than thirty seconds or so. I haven’t even reached my full arousal.
“Oh God, Hayden... I’m... coming...” she squealed as her legs stiffened and her body twitched. “It feels... so... fucking... good... shit! Oh God... oh God...”
Her orgasm seemed like it was longer than the actual length of our sexual episode. I restrained myself from looking at my watch just to see if I timed her correctly.
And then, it happened.
“Oh fuck
... oh fuck... I’m still coming, Hayden... you’re so fucking good,” she continued her rapturous soliloquy. “I.... love... you... Hayden... I fucking love you... oh God... oh God...”
Oh no.
She just had to say that.
This would be quite a mess that I’d have to clean up later.
She stretched her body upwards with one final wail before collapsing on my chest. She held my hand and played with my fingers. Then she gave me small kisses on the neck. I wanted to remind her that I haven’t climaxed... that I was far from being gratified... but at that point, it didn’t matter. There were more important things to think of.
“Did you enjoy it?” she affectionately asked.
“Uhm... uhuh,” I hesitantly replied.
I felt her lips against my body as they curled into a smile.
“Did you hear what I said?” she continued to question.
Oh fuck.
“Errrr... that you were coming?” I answered with a feigned chuckle. I wasn’t comfortable about where that discussion was headed.
“No, silly,” she giggled. “Not that part. The thing I said while I was coming.”
“Oh... that one.” There was no point in pretending that I didn’t hear it. She practically screamed those words for all the world to know.
“I meant that, you know,” she gave an assurance that I didn’t even need... nor want.
“Uhuh.” What else could I say?
I had to fix it. To keep her hanging on false hope would be merciless. I’m a jerk, yes... a despicable, contemptible scoundrel... but I wasn’t completely soulless. I had to tell her.
“Cindy...” I began to say, “I don’t think we should be together.”
She rose up from my chest. Her face was a picture of utter shock. She was at the verge of crying, curbed perhaps by the rage that was starting to possess her.
“What?!” she asked incredulously. “Why?”
I had to answer her. I had to come up with something believable, something meaningful, something that would make the pain more bearable as she nurses her broken heart... something that she could hold on to during those few nights of tears she’d spend ruing about the whys and what-could-have-beens.
Something special. Something original.
“Cindy,” I started to say. “I’m sorry. It’s not you. It’s me.”
Chapter 2
PHOEBE
“He said that?” I asked her in disbelief, shocked and angered by what my best friend shared. I sat beside her on the rafters. The gym was practically empty, save for Mr. Sanders who was mopping the floor of the court.
“Yes,” she said as she wiped off her tears with some napkin before blowing her nose. “That asshole! That stupid, fucking asshole!”
One look at Cindy was enough to make me wonder about the guy who just dumped her... in the most fiendish manner at that. Long strawberry blonde hair, a pair of beautiful blue eyes, a narrow nose that even models would envy, the reddest lips that needed no lipsticks, and a body that would make any type of clothes pretty. She was the prototypical girl-next-door, the kind of gal any man would be proud to introduce to their moms, the kind of gal who was born to be worshipped and fantasized about.
“Are you sure that’s exactly how it happened?” I asked again, still skeptical about what she narrated.
“Yes!” she loudly confirmed. “That scumbag fucked me in his car, then, he broke up with me... just like that. It’s not you, it’s me. Oh bullshit! I should’ve at least deserved a better line! I swear, if I hear another cliche in my life, I’d blow up!”
“Boys,” I uttered, sympathizing with her sorrow. “What else can you expect from them? They’ll use you, then they’ll drop you as soon as they get tired of you.”
“Wow, Phoebe! You’re suddenly the expert now, huh?”
It was a comment that would’ve otherwise been insulting. But Cindy has been my BFF since eighth grade. And we have kept our friendship up to now as freshmen at UCLA. We were the only two students from our High School who got accepted here, and we were proud of it. I was on a full scholarship. Cindy was on an athletic grant as she was accepted as part of the school’s NCAA volleyball team.
More importantly, though, having made it to UCLA further strengthened our bond. She knew me very well, and we were close enough that she could say anything about how I was without sounding offensive.
“I... read a lot... and watch a lot of movies too,” I explained.
“Well... romance books, romance movies... they’re not real. Reality’s so much different. Reality sucks!”
I nodded my head to agree with her. The truth, however, was that I only had a feint idea about the agony she was enduring. I haven’t had my heart broken. I haven’t fallen in love. And I haven’t even been on an actual date... prom night with my second cousin not included.
“You know what, Cindy?” I began to say. “You’re better off without him, anyway.”
“Oh great! Another cliche!” she sardonically replied.
“No, no... it’s true,” I tried to convince her. “Just imagine... if you ended up with him, you’d just live the rest of your life wallowing in sorrow.”
“I guess...” she agreed, much to my relief.
But then she started to sob once more, louder and more uncontrollable than before. She seemed so inconsolable, and my attempts to comfort her have been futile.
“But I thought he was the one,” she added in between her weeping and sniffing. “He was so nice. I immediately fell in love with him, you know. His dreamy eyes, that granite jaw, those well-chiseled cheeks, even those stupid dimples whenever he smiled. And that body... of my God, Phoebe... do you even understand? How can I ever forget a body like that?”
“Physical attraction, nothing more,” I said as I rubbed her back, hoping that I’d be able to alleviate the pain she was feeling.
“Yes... I was physically attracted to him, but it was so much more than that,” she defended. “All my dreams centered on him. I even introduced him to my folks. He’s the first guy they ever met!”
Her affections towards him must’ve been really deep. Cindy has dated countless guys, but she never brought any of them home to meet her parents. Cindy’s dad was the vice mayor of Chalfant, our small town east of California. They moved to Woodland Hills after his term and right before she went to college. To say that her father was very strict and conservative would be an understatement.
“It doesn’t matter, Cindy,” I said. “He’s just a guy. Disposable. Replaceable.” I was talking based on experience. She had her heart broken before, but not as bad as this. But in the past, she bounced back. There was even this one time when she got herself a new boyfriend just a couple of days after she broke up with the previous one.
“No. He’s not just a guy,” she adamantly stated as she dryly washed her face with her hands. “He’s Hayden Summersmith! The Hayden Summersmith!”
She didn’t have to stress his name. I knew him. Everyone in campus knew him. Scion of one of the richest families in the country, if not the world. The youngest in a long line of tycoons and politicians and philanthropists who practically built the foundations of the state of Ohio. He drove an ash black Hummer around campus. When he wasn’t in the mood to bring that monster of a vehicle, he rode his Ducati, leaving a trail of swooning girls dreaming for his attention.
One would think that he was pursuing a high profile degree, like a pre-law program, or pre-med like me, or an engineering course, or even a business-related one.
But no.
The billionaire’s heir was actually a Philosophy student.
“You know, he does have an unsavory reputation,” I reminded her. “He’s a player, Cindy. I know you knew that when you started dating him.”
“Yes, but I also knew I could change him,” she answered firmly, though her conviction faded when she was reminded that he was gone, and she started to cry once again.
“A leopard doesn’t change its spots.”
“Of shut
up! Another cliche? Really?”
“Sorry...”
We sat there on the bench for many minutes, silent and still. She tried to process everything that has happened. I just wanted to be with her and console her as much as I could. It’s what friends are for, after all.
“He... he must be taught a lesson,” she finally said. I saw her hands clenched into fists. I saw her lips parting to reveal how she was gritting her teeth. Whoever coined the phrase hell hath no fury like a woman scorned most certainly wasn’t familiar with Cindy. When she’s mad... as in really, really mad... she doesn’t stop until she gets even.
“Can’t you just, I dunno, move on?” It was one final attempt to prevent a catastrophe.
“No!” she yelled. “He’s a player? Let’s see how he’d feel when he’s the one who gets played!”