“So, can you tell me anything else? Like, did he go down on you?” The question just spills out of me, and before I know it I’ve got my hand on my mouth. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have. I know it’s personal—”
She nods. “He did.”
“And?”
“And it was nice.”
“Nice, good… don’t you have better adjectives?”
“There’s not really a word that describes it, Cass. Pleasurable, yeah. But also nice. The most important thing is that you are comfortable. If you’re not, then how can you expect to enjoy it? It’s the same with everything. Don’t worry about what to do, don’t treat it like a checklist. It’s not. Just do whatever. That’s the beauty of it.”
I sigh. “It’s just… you know, overhearing the boys talking about it at school.”
“Oh, fuck the boys,” Jess snaps, before we meet eyes and start grinning and giggling. “Not like that, I mean fuck what they all said. Most of them are lying, anyway. So… are you thinking of, um—”
“No, don’t be silly. I’m going to England in two days.”
“Well, you might meet an English boy.”
“Shut up.”
“I can’t believe you got into LSE. I’m so jealous that you’re practically going to be living in London!”
I can’t help myself. I laugh. She’s absolutely right. It is exciting. I can’t believe it myself. Living in London! Small , winding cobbled streets, red double-deckers, tea and crumpets, all the strange accents… basically every stereotype they play up on television here I’m about to experience… for three years, and maybe more.
“You’re really lucky,” Jess says. “I mean, I know you worked for it, but you’re really lucky.”
“You should come and visit me. I’ll probably be staying in a cute little townhouse or something, with housemates, and you can experience the English weather they keep talking about. We can have tea and biscuits in the back garden. What do you say?”
Jess stalls, and I know that my invite is the kind of open-ended one that friends make to each other without any real promise. But still, I can’t help myself but ask her.
“Maybe,” she says. “I’d love to visit. I’d love to travel.”
“You should come. From the UK we can just take the train to Paris! And after that, we can travel around Europe if we like. It’ll be great.”
But a heavy silence comes over us, and we both do our best not to look at each other. It’s so easy to talk about doing this or that, but in reality it’s much more complicated. We both realize that it’s more a talking fantasy than a working plan.
“I should go,” she says eventually. “I’m sure Dave is waiting for me by now.”
“Okay,” I say, voice soft.
“I’m not going to see you tomorrow.”
“No?” I ask.
“I gotta do this thing with my Dad. It’s his day of the week.”
“Oh, yeah.”
“You have a great time in England, okay? I mean it. Really try and enjoy yourself. Don’t stress so much, don’t study too hard. You’ll turn your hair all grey by the thirty if you do.”
“Okay,” I whisper.
She gets up, and so do I, and she wraps me up in a big hug. I feel a swell of sadness in my chest. “I’ll see you when you visit me in England.”
“I’ll see you then, babe,” she says. To my surprise, she plants a huge kiss on my cheek, and then leaves my room without looking back.
And it’s the weirdest thing, because Jess was never the touchy-feely type.
*
Ugh. I stare at my half-packed suitcase, and the mess of clothes and other stuff all over the floor of my room. I begin picking it up robotically, and I soon found myself thinking about Chance…
It’s like I’m taken back in time. I’m at the seaside again, and I’m sitting in between his legs, and I can feel the heat of his body radiating into mine. He’s rubbing his lips across the backs of my shoulders and neck, kissing me lightly, rubbing the insides of my thighs.
I can hardly believe I did that. I can’t believe I let him finger me on the beach like that. But he was good… oh, he was so good. His fingers played me more deftly than mine ever had. Whatever he had done, he’d finished me off so fast it even surprised me.
I smile at the thought, but then catch myself doing so in the mirror. I know that I want him still… and I kind of hate myself for it. Why can’t I just get him out of my head? The only time I managed to between when he fingered me and now – and granted, it’s only been two days – was talking with Jess.
But, God, even when I was with her I was talking about him indirectly. I was definitely thinking about him. I bury my face in my hands, groaning. I can’t believe I asked so many questions about sex like that. She must have known something was up. She must have.
*
What the hell?
I slow the car down, certain that I’m looking at the front door to Cassie’s house. I know I’ve got it right, but I can see that the door is ajar, and there are no lights on in the house. I stop the car, and get out, and walk around the fence of the house. From the back garden, I can see the light on in one of the bedrooms.
“Fuck it,” I say, walking back around to the front. Someone could be breaking in. I inch the door open, but don’t see or hear anything, and so I step inside and lock the door behind me.
I walk up the steps, half-expecting them to creak and announce my presence, but they don’t. I think about sparking up a cigarette, but then think better of it. Sometimes, it's simply not the right time.
As I get closer and closer to the bedroom with the light on – it is pouring out into the corridor, cut off at a sharp angle – I begin to hear a faint, but familiar noise.
It is the sound of a woman moaning.
I smirk. Either Cassie Shannon is masturbating right now, or she’s watching porn. Or maybe both.
I walk toward the door and sure enough she is both watching porn and touching herself. My eyes roam over her. She’s got her back to me, her legs propped up on the desk and spread open wide, and she’s got a hand buried beneath her skirt.
And instantly I feel my cock pump to life.
I watch her for a few minutes, my erection straining against my underwear and jeans, and I’m getting hornier by the second. She’s moaning softly, sighing her pleasure, writhing and squirming on the chair.
I could watch her forever.
But I’ve got something more interesting in mind.
It’s time to say hello.
*
My phone buzzes, and I see that I’ve got an email from Jess. Frowning, I log in on my computer, and there I read her email:
Cass,
This kind of porn is a bit more like real sex. Not the shit guys watch.
J
I look at the video attachment, and on the file there is small thumbnail picture of a woman and a man in a naked embrace. I can’t see that much.
I tap out a reply: I can’t believe you sent porn to my email! Is this even allowed?
When she doesn’t reply after ten minutes, I start getting curious about the video.
Fuck it. I’m going to watch it. Why not? I’ve got nothing else to do tonight, and I can’t be bothered to keep packing.
I start the video, and I immediately notice the different tone in this to other ones I’ve watched. It’s more sensual. The guy is actually pretty hot for once, and him and the girl are kissing and caressing passionately. She’s not some ridiculous bimbo with gigantic fake tits, and he’s not some meathead with a red face and popping veins in his neck.
I watch as they feel each other up, remove each other’s clothes. I watch as she grips onto his cock, starts to slowly pump him. Their bodies are pressed together, a hard embrace, and she’s pumping him in between them. His hands are on her ass, groping, lifting, fingers running lower to pull through her folds.
I realize that I’m getting pretty into it. I mean… it’s hot. It’s surprisingly hot.
/> I flash back to Chance’s fingers running through my folds, when he firsts starts teasing me, when he first starts to make me feel good. I’m lying against his hard body, his arms are around me, his hands under my skirt, moving slowly, tantalizingly slowly.
I’m pushing my head back into him, opening my legs wider, curling my toes in my heels, nearly oblivious to the fact that we are out in public, on the beach, in broad daylight.
Sitting in my chair, watching this video, I’m getting hot. I feel flushed in my cheeks. The temperature seems to have risen. The woman in the porn video is now being gone down on by the man. She’s undulating her body, grasping onto her breasts, moaning and writhing in pleasure.
I think of how I writhed and squirmed in Chance’s arms as he brought me to the most explosive climax I’d ever had, and just with his fingers. His strong arms held me, muscular, defined, buried beneath my underwear, playing me like an instrument, plucking strings of pleasure so deep inside me I didn’t know I had them.
I had tried to stay silent, but I couldn’t. It was too much. The big ball of pressure in my belly pulled sounds from my mouth against my will. Somehow, I didn’t want him to get the satisfaction of knowing he made me feel good. And on the other side of it, oh, God, I wanted him to know he made me feel good.
On the video the porn girl and guy shift positions, and they start to sixty-nine each other. The camera changes angles, and I watch as she sucks on his manhood, pumps it up and down. Then I see the other side, and he’s fingering her with one hand and sucking on her clit with the other.
I can’t believe how aroused I am at watching this video. I am totally not into seeing other women naked, but it’s getting me all wound-up. It’s totally different to other videos I’ve seen. All the other videos I’ve seen just have beefcake men endlessly thrusting into screaming women. This one is different.
They shift positions again, and so do I. I’ve got my feet on the table, knees open, and my hand is resting on my belly. I think of Chance again. I think of him going down on me. I think of him eating me out, his warm lips and tongue lapping at my sex like he can’t get enough of me.
I’m half watching the video, half fantasizing about Chance Hudson. I want to get angry at myself but I can’t. I just can’t. I like him… oh, God, I like him a lot.
Before I know it, my hand is no longer on my belly, but it’s in between my legs, and I’m touching myself. It’s like the world melts away. All I’ve got is this video, and all I want is Chance.
I moan softly to myself, let my eyes flutter closed. I imagine I’m down at the beach again, and Chance is behind me, and he’s the one rubbing me. It’s his fingers granting me pleasure. It’s his fingers that are going to send me soaring, make my whole body crunch up as that huge and heady wave of pleasure crashes over me, shocks my senses, makes me breathe hard and cry out in bliss.
That’s when I hear it. That’s when my world comes to a screeching halt.
“This is unexpected.”
It’s Chance’s voice. My body is frozen. I slap the spacebar key to pause the video, and in the reflection on the monitor I see him standing in my open doorway.
Why, oh why didn’t I close the door? Because nobody is home! Oh, I can’t believe this is happening to me.
I pull my skirt down, put my legs down, and press my knees together. I swivel the chair around, even though I don’t want to. I turn to face him, knowing I can’t hide from this, knowing I can’t just vanish into thin air.
My cheeks are burning. I’m… I’m so embarrassed and somehow feel ashamed. I don’t know why.
I know he’s going to have that stupid and annoying smirk on his face. I know he’s going to have some smartass thing to say. But what else can I do?
“What are you doing in my house, Chance?” I ask as I turn, finally meeting his eyes. I try to imbue my glare with stony indifference, like I don’t care that he just caught me touching myself to porn.
That’s when I notice that he’s not really smiling. No, he’s got another look on his face… something hungry.
“Your door was open. I was just driving past. Came to check on you, since I know you’re alone these days.” He just says it, matter-of-factly.
It must have been Jess who left the front door open. God, so this is all her fault!
“I’m fine,” I say, looking anywhere but his eyes. My ears are now on fire in addition to my cheeks, and I’m trying to get angry at him, trying to find some way to dispel my embarrassment, but I find that I can’t.
A silence falls between us, and that’s when I notice that he has a hard-on. I can see the outline of his cock through his jeans. I look up at his eyes, feel this insane urge to just rush over and kiss him, and as I shift in my seat, he shakes his head.
“Don’t get up.”
I blink. “I, uh—”
“Keep going.”
I bunch my brow and shake my head. “What?”
He nods at the computer monitor. “Keep going. Let me watch.”
A storm rages in my mind. Half of me for some crazy reason wants to do it. Wants to let him watch me. The other half is horrified at the thought.
My heart is thumping in my chest. I can hear it like the hooves of a racehorse. Blood is roaring in my ears. It’s like there is a hurricane around me. I’m breathing quickly, but I realize that my ears aren’t burning any more.
I realize that, for some stupid reason, this is what I want. He keeps calling me little-miss-smart but I’m anything but if I want this. I want what’s bad for me. Chance is bad for me. There is no possible way in this universe that he can ever be good for me.
And how is that smart?
And still I want him. I want him because he drives me crazy. I don’t want him to leave my room. I want him to watch me.
And I want to watch him.
“Only if you do,” I say. My voice is barely a whisper. I’m putting myself out there. I’m walking the plank. I’m stepping onto that tightrope with no harness or safety net.
“Okay,” he says, without hesitation. “But I want to see your body.”
“I want to see yours.”
We stare at each other, a pregnant pause, and then he’s pulling his t-shirt off his amazing body, and I watch as his carved, lean lines come into view. He nods at me, fire in his eyes, and I pull my tank top up over me, and unhook my bra. It’s the first time I’ve ever been naked in front of a boy, but somehow I don’t feel the sting of modesty.
He’s working at his belt buckle next, and when he steps out of his jeans, I see the shape of his manhood pressing through his tight boxer-briefs.
“Your turn,” he says, and so I unbutton and unzip my pleated skirt, and pull it down over my legs. I’m still sitting in the chair, and he’s standing up in the doorway.
The words leave my mouth, but it’s like I didn’t speak them: “Come closer.”
Naked but for his underwear, he steps toward me. I watch as his whip-cord tight body ripples, as I can see each muscle flex and relax as he walks.
I nod at his underwear, and he removes it, pulling it down. His cock springs out from a tuft of trimmed pubic hair, thick, dripping pre-cum. He’s pretty damn big. Definitely bigger than the guy I as just watching in the video.
I pull my own underwear off, and just as I’m about to drop it to the floor he sticks out his hand.
“Give it to me.”
I look at him, and then down his body. The sight of him naked makes something rumble deep inside me, and my eyes settle on his hard cock.
I hand him my underwear – so glad I wasn’t wearing an old pair or, heaven forbid, granny panties – and watch as he presses them against his nose and inhales my scent.
“You smell amazing,” he groans, and he brings his other hand down to wrap around his cock, and he starts pumping himself. I just sit there, staring, watching him while he jerks himself off, watching as his stomach muscles crunch, as his arms flex, as he works himself while he smells me.
So I start to touch mys
elf, too. I turn to face him fully, and I don’t bother with the video. We won’t need it. I’m turned on like I’ve never been before. He’s putting on a show for me, and I am determined to put one on for him as well.
I lift my feet up onto the chair, spread my knees, and begin to rub my clit. He watches me out of hungry eyes, and I watch him out of hungry eyes.
His cock looks really nice. I don’t know how else to describe it; it’s just a nice looking cock. He steps closer to me, close enough that I’m sure he can smell me, smell my arousal, see just how swollen I am.
I’m moaning softly as I touch myself, as I feel that spring coiling, that ball of energy inside me expanding. It’s in my belly, growing outward, and I know it’s not going to take me long.
“Yeah,” he says, staring at my sex. It’s like he can’t get enough of it. It makes me feel a thump of excitement in my chest. It makes me feel desired. It makes me feel sexy.
I push two fingers inside me, and they slide in easily. I’m rubbing my front wall but it just doesn’t feel as good as when he does it. He’s still enthralled with the sight of me touching myself. I feel like I’m the only girl in the world.
And then we meet eyes, and like that, the tension snaps. He drops my underwear, I stand up, and he pulls me tight against his body, crushes his lips against mine, and we’re kissing like there’s no tomorrow, mashing mouths and banging teeth and twirling tongues and sharing spit.
I’m moaning and panting onto his face, and he’s devouring my body with his hands, groping every inch of flesh I have, pulling at my nipples, rubbing the insides of my thighs, cupping my sex…
I moan as he pulls a finger up through my folds, shudder as he touches my clit. His fingers settle just above it, and he begins to rub me in circles like he did at the beach.
I squirm in his arms, turn around and put my hands behind me so I can grasp onto his manhood. He’s so thick, so hard, I feel like I’m holding onto the handle of a hockey stick.
Chance Her Stepbrother Page 4