by Tia Siren
“We don’t know shit about advertising,” he said with a soft smile, “but we know about business. You four are here to guide us with the ads, to guide this whole company into a new era. We’re here to handle the rest. I’m Brad, and that’s my brother, Tyler.
Carolyn entered and handed Tyler a manila folder. He thanked her and took it.
“We thought we should just jump right in,” he said, opening the folder and passing around a sheet of paper to each of us. It was just an image of a vacuum cleaner.
“This is our new vacuum. We need an ad for it, something for print, to run in Good Housekeeping and Martha Stewart’s magazine.”
And then we got to work.
3
The first month passed in a haze. We worked long hours, all six of us. The four ad grunts were there the most, but Tyler and Brad turned out to be surprisingly hands on. They seemed interested in our work, but they didn’t step on our toes. And if either one of them recognized me, or were aware my mother had just married their father, they didn’t say anything.
It was a Friday night and I had stayed late. I thought everyone else had gone. We’d been pretty set on an ad, but I had thought I could find a better font for it. I searched and searched. Finally, I glanced at the clock on the front of my phone and realized it was almost nine at night. I had skipped lunch that day, and my stomach was growling painfully.
I had an office there, another glass-walled room. All of the grunts had similar offices. Brad and Tyler each had their own, and the walls weren’t glass. I was stepping past Tyler’s office when I heard a moan of pleasure. It was unmistakable. I knew what it was as soon as I heard it. It had been made by a woman, the moan breathy and filled with ecstasy. I knew I should keep going, but I paused. I peeked through the door, which was open just a crack.
Carolyn was there, bent over Tyler’s desk. She held herself up with her hands. I saw her perky breasts, her nipples hard and pointed. Tyler was behind her, his hands on her hips, her skirt pulled up over her ass. He had shoved her panties to the side, just pulling the thin material out of the way of her pussy instead of taking it off. Her red hair was over her face, the fingers of one hand curled as she gripped a random piece of paper.
“Fuck me,” the woman moaned. Tyler continued to do so. His tie was off, his shirt unbuttoned, revealing his toned chest and abdomen. One of his hands dug into Carolyn’s pale ass. Paler than mine. He squeezed.
“Don’t come in me,” Carolyn said. She must have known he was nearing the edge. A few more pumps and he pulled his cock out of her, taking it in his hand and jerking himself. One, two, three quick pumps. He erupted, thick white strands of semen flying from the tip of his large cock and landing on Carolyn’s white ass. She moaned, setting her head down on the desk. I looked at Tyler. He was staring right at me. I gasped and stepped back and hurried for the elevator.
My pussy was soaked, the crotch of my panties wet, a knot of yearning in my loins. I drove home, my hand up my own skirt, rubbing myself slowly. I thought about Tyler, pictured his cock, pictured him coming. But instead of Carolyn, it was me bent over his desk. I came once while I was stopped at a red light, and again when I got home and lay on my couch after stripping off all of my clothes and fingering myself once more.
Monday came around, and I grew nervous as I showered and dressed. I was dreading seeing Tyler. I didn’t know what he would say or how he would react to my snooping, but I was sure he had seen me.
He was late getting into work. Brad was there, but he was in his office, and I had plenty to do with the ad team as we finalized the print ad. I offered to take the finished product into Brad’s office and was surprised to find Tyler sitting there, talking to his brother. They both looked up at me as I stood in the doorway.
“All set?” Brad asked. I nodded and handed him the paper. He set it on his desk, and Tyler stood, moving around to the other side and bending over the paper. No one spoke as the brothers looked our work over.
“It’s great,” Brad said finally, looking up at me. “You guys hit it out of the park.”
I smiled. “We know.”
The twins laughed. Brad handed the page to Tyler. “Get this out so they can run it in this month's issues.”
Tyler took it and left, and I turned to follow him, but Brad spoke and I stopped. “I heard you worked late on Friday,” he said, and I turned. My cheeks burned, I could feel it, but I hoped I wasn’t blushing.
“Yeah. I knew I could find a better typeface,” I said.
“Well, it looks great. Thanks for putting in the extra time.”
I nodded and smiled, and then I hurried out of there. When I got back to my desk, Tyler was waiting for me.
“Let’s grab lunch,” he said from his spot, which was leaned against my desk.
“Okay,” I said.
“We’re practically family,” Tyler continued. “We should get to know one another.”
“We are family,” I said with a laugh, and he laughed and nodded.
“I know, but it’s hard to say I’m related to such a hot woman. I’d rather pretend we’re not related.”
I blushed again. I wasn’t used to blushing so much. I didn’t know what these guys were doing to me. “Well, the way my mom goes through husbands, it won’t be long before we’re not related again.”
“And then I’ll take you to dinner. But for now, come get me at noon, all right?”
I nodded, and he left.
I sat at my desk. My heart was pounding. We had been instructed to find the next product we were going to do an ad for from a list of twenty or so items that had been approved by the twins and their father, big ticket items they wanted to revitalize in the public consciousness. At the end of the day, the ad team was going to throw out ideas and have a vote. I looked through the list, but only halfheartedly. I was thinking about Tyler, and I couldn’t focus.
Noon rolled around, and I stopped by his office. He was already standing, pulling his suit jacket on. I was wearing a skirt, my legs bare to combat the oncoming summer heat. My blouse was black and see-through, so I wore a black blazer over it. My heels were black as well, high and open toed. I could see Tyler look me over as he met me by the door. We walked to the elevator together and went down to the employee car garage.
Tyler led me to the most expensive car I had ever laid eyes on. I wasn’t much of a car woman, but I recognized the name on the back and knew it was impossibly expensive. It was a red sports car, all rolling curves and loud engine. I got into the passenger seat, and my stepbrother lowered himself behind the wheel. The engine roared to life with a press of a button, something I had never seen before, and then we were driving.
“You ever go to Pan’s?” he asked me as we pulled into the busy Chicago traffic. I looked at him and laughed. Pan’s was a popular restaurant in the heart of the city, but it was expensive. It was well beyond my means. Though my new job paid well—I had money for new clothes, and I had begun renting a really nice apartment ten minutes from the city—I wasn’t quite making Pan’s money.
“No,” I said, shaking my head.
“It’s great. I have a table reserved all the time, so we can swing in there and skip the lunch rush line.”
I nodded, and we drove on. My pulse pounded as we drove. Tyler had to shift, his hand tantalizing close to my bare leg, the hem of my skirt sitting mid-thigh. I found myself wanting him, wanting to reach over, put my hand on his crotch, wanting to kiss him as he drove. Usually when it came to men, when I wanted something I took it. Now, though, something was holding me back. Maybe it was because, technically, I was related to Tyler.
But not by blood. I told myself that as we drove. Not by blood.
Pan’s was named after the chef who had opened it. It was his nickname; everyone called him Pan because he looked twenty, even though he was past fifty. He never seemed to grow up, like Peter Pan.
The restaurant was fancy and beautiful, a big open space with a limited number of tables and chairs. We walked right in, pas
t a small line at the door. The maître d’ smiled at Tyler and shook his hand. “Mr. Harding,” the thin man said, bowing his head a bit. “This way please.”
He led us back into a small room off the main one. There were three tables there, each one with a small folded placard on it that read “reserved” in flowing script. The thin man swept the sign away and pulled our chairs out for us. We sat, and he left us with two menus.
“I tend to drink my lunch when I come here, so let’s have a bottle of wine.”
I laughed and nodded. I had never drunk wine during the middle of the day before, and it excited me. I was out with my boss; he was making the rules. He was handsome and funny, and he had an equally handsome and funny twin brother. I wanted to fuck him. I wanted to fuck his brother. He was related to me.
But not by blood.
Lunch was fantastic, and by the time we left two hours had passed and we were both a bit tipsy. Tyler swore he was all right to drive, and I let him. We cut through the city, back toward our place of work in his fancy and fast red sports car.
We pulled into the employee lot, drove down a few levels, and parked. No one was around.
“Thanks for lunch,” I said, turning to look at Tyler.
He reached over, his hand resting on my bare thigh.
“No hose today?”
“It’s hot.”
“You’re hot, especially in those stockings you're always wearing.”
“How do you know they’re stockings?” I asked.
“I peek,” my stepbrother said. His hand was still on my thigh.
“I’m not hot without the stockings?”
“No, you’re still pretty hot,” Tyler said. “You saw me fucking Carolyn.”
I nodded. His hand slid upward, toward the hem of my skirt. I felt my loins stir. I yearned for him to keep going, but he stopped just as his fingertips brushed against the material of my skirt.
“You're my sister,” Tyler said softly. He was looking at me.
“Stepsister,” I said, and I spread my legs slightly. He took the hint, his fingers disappearing under the hem of my skirt. They slid along the crotch of my panties, which was moist. I turned my head toward his, and he was there. I closed my eyes as our lips met. He tasted like the wine we had drunk. I parted my lips for his probing tongue, and it danced along with mine.
His fingers stayed on my crotch, rubbing up and down along my slit, on the outside of my wet panties. I spread my legs more. His fingers slid to the side as we kissed, hooking around the material of my black thong and pulling the crotch aside so his fingers could feel me. One slid into me, and then another.
My own hand went to play, sliding onto his lap where I could feel his hard cock bulging against the fly of his slacks. With a practiced hand, I undid his fly and pulled down his zipper. I reached in through the front of his boxer briefs and wrapped my delicate fingers around his angry cock. I pulled it free and began to jerk him off.
“Suck it,” my stepbrother moaned against my mouth, but I shook my head.
“Fuck me,” I said, and then I was moving, sliding over the gear shift, onto his lap. I faced Tyler, my knees resting on either side of his legs on the leather of the seat.
Tyler hiked my skirt up as I bent to kiss him again. His fingers curled under the sides of my thong and began tugging it down, but I knew it would be hard to get it down and off in the cramped car, so I pulled my full lips away from his and ran my hand through his hair as I spoke.
“Rip them off,” I said, and he did, eagerly. He tossed them aside, and I reached down and gripped his cock by the shaft and held it still as I lowered myself onto it. He was long and thick, and Tyler’s cock was one of the biggest I had ever had inside me. I moaned as I slid down over him and he filled me with his cock.
I rode him, my pace quick, and he pawed at my tits, pulling my blouse up and then tugging the cups of my bra down to expose them. He leaned forward and took one of my hard, cherry-red nipples into his mouth. He sucked and nibbled and sent a wave of pleasure running through my body.
Tyler’s cock felt like heaven inside my pussy, and it didn’t take me long to come. I gripped his shoulder with one hand and took a hold of his perfect hair with the other as I groaned and felt a wave of ecstasy build up in my loins and roll in quivering waves throughout my body. I curled my toes in my heels. My groan turned into a sharp scream, and my pussy clamped tightly onto his cock as I slammed down one more time.
He arched up to meet me, and we sat like that for a moment, my orgasm dying and fading away with his cock pushed as deeply inside me as it would go.
Then it was his turn.
I looked at him and smiled. I could tell he was hungry. I could tell he wanted me. I could tell he wanted to come. I began moving on his lap again, up and down, grinding my hips against his. His hands were everywhere, groping my breasts, pulling my hair, reaching around to squeeze my ass cheeks. He wasn’t going to last long, and I wasn’t going to tease him—our lunch had already grown ridiculously long. I bucked atop him quickly, with long motions that caused most of his hard cock to slide out. Then I pushed down so I was filled once more.
“I’m going to come,” he said in a hushed voice, a warning to me since he didn’t have a condom on. I had been on birth control since the age of sixteen, however, and it was Carolyn that I thought of, how he had pulled out and come all over her ass that night, when I leaned down to whisper to him, my lips brushing the lobe of his ear.
“Come in me, stepbrother,” I said.
He groaned, and he did. His head went back, his hips arched upward again. Inside me, his cock jump once, twice, three times, over and over again as he sprayed long, thick ropes of semen deep into me.
When he was done, I lay against him for a moment, panting. Then I slipped off and spent some time in his passenger seat making myself presentable. My panties were torn and useless, so I tucked them into the inside pocket of his sports jacket. Then I climbed out of his car and we rode back up the elevator together in silence.
I went through the rest of the day without panties, and I kept thinking about my lunchtime tryst.
Tyler was my stepbrother.
It was so wrong, but it had felt so right.
4
Over the next few weeks, Tyler and I saw more of each other. It was not as if we went out on dates. We just fucked—at work, at my home, at his apartment in the city. That was amazing, seeing how he lived. We spent most of our time in bed. If he hadn’t been my stepbrother, I would have dated Tyler. That apartment, his car, his lavish lifestyle, it was all so tantalizing, but I couldn’t partake in it. We could go out to lunch sometimes at work; that was fine. We even grabbed dinner one night. We were stepbrother and stepsister. Some people knew it. Tyler lived his life in the public. His father was famous, and he and his brother were too. Owning one of the biggest companies in America would do that.
I wasn’t sure if any of the people I worked with knew that our bosses were my stepbrothers. I wasn’t sure if they knew Tyler and I were fucking. We tried not to be together too often unless we were alone in the office. Then I would be bent over his desk or riding him as he sat in his chair.
Our relationship was purely physical, and it suited us both fine. I knew he was fucking other girls, and it didn’t bother me. I was sure he was still sleeping with Carolyn. That was fine. I liked Tyler. He was funny and suave. But it wasn’t like I could marry him. That would be too weird since my mother was married to his father.
My relationship with Brad was good too. He was just as handsome as his brother and every bit as cool. He was a little more reserved, though. I never caught him fucking the secretary late at night. I didn’t know if he had a girlfriend or what he did. He didn’t drive a ridiculously expensive car; he didn’t go to eat at all the newest and most expensive restaurants.
One night, a month into my sexual relationship with his brother, I found myself working late with Brad. We were sitting together, side by side, in the glass-walled conference room, going
over the script for a radio ad we were putting together. We finished our work. I smiled at Brad. He leaned over and kissed me.
It took me by surprise, but I welcomed it. I closed my eyes. I parted my lips. I felt his hand on me, not on my breast or thigh, where Tyler always put his, but on my face, caressing it with his strong fingers. Sweet. Gentle.
Brad pulled away, and I opened my eyes. “I’m sorry,” he said. And then, before I could tell him it was all right, that I had liked it, he stood and hurried out of the room. I let him go.
Brad didn’t go out of his way to avoid me the next few days, but he did seem distant. I wasn't going to put any pressure on him. A couple of nights after he had kissed me, I found myself at his brother’s penthouse apartment. We had dined on takeout, and not the type of fast and easy I was used to. It had been delicious and gourmet, delivered by a man in a suit. After dinner I was finishing my third glass of wine, standing next to a large bay window that looked out over the city. Tyler came up behind me; I could see him in the soft reflection of the glass.
“Hey,” I said with a smile. He kissed me on the neck and then took my wine glass. He set it on a table nearby, and I went to turn around, but he put his hands on my waist and kept me from doing so. He had something in one of his hands. It was his tie. He slipped it over my head, tying it around me so that it covered my eyes. I was blindfolded.
He took me by the hand and led me into his bedroom. I stood there as he touched me. I was wearing a skirt and blouse and stockings. I always wore stockings for him; they really got him going. He undressed me as I stood, planting kisses all over my body. The was a chill in his apartment, and once I was nude, save for the heels and stockings, my nipples got hard, jutting out from my fat and heavy breasts.
Tyler seemed different, kissing me like that. Soft and tender. He helped me lie back on the bed. His strong hands ran along my legs, starting at my ankles and moving up the stockings to my thighs before going back down and pulling my heels off. I smiled playfully and reached for his crotch. I found it, squeezed his hard cock beneath his pants, but he pulled my hand away.