by Selena Kitt
The mere thought alone nearly made him explode, his frenzied hand pumping faster, squeezing harder as he jacked himself off thinking about his stepsister. It was mostly the notion of fucking Peyton and just how wrong it would be that made him so horny. She was practically his sister, even if she was a filthy little whore, but the more he thought about how much of a slut she was, the hotter he got and the closer he was to blowing his wad all over the room.
He was back to the fantasy of her on her knees, only it was his cock she was sucking on. Her furious mouth and frenzied tongue slurped and sucked as she popped off the head of his dick with a loud smack before gobbling him back inside again. He quickly lifted his hand to his mouth and spat into his palm, rubbing the warm spit all over his shaft to mimic what he believed a wet set of lips might feel like. He was whacking so hard and so fast, he had to spit again before he dried up, but thankfully it wouldn’t be long before he finally released the furious heat of the most intense orgasm he’d ever had. He rolled onto his side to muffle his heightening moans of pleasure into his pillow, all the while stroking and stroking like there was no tomorrow.
When he finally let himself explode, he imagined spraying the warm, creamy spurts of cum all over Peyton’s face, landing at the corner of her mouth just moments before she drove her tongue out the side of her lip to lap it up almost greedily.
Only it wasn’t Peyton’s mouth that took his load. It was his comforter, and the load he blew was bigger than any he’d ever blown before. White gobs of gooey warmth landed in three different places on the comforter, and he knew he’d have to wash it before he could use it, but he didn’t care. As he exhaled and gasped to catch his breath, the guilt of what he’d fantasized about while getting himself off began to set in, growing like a heavy stone in his gut.
Why on earth would he even think about letting his sister suck his cock? Wasn’t that wrong? She wasn’t his blood sister, but they’d grown up together, known each other since they were five, which made her as close to a sister as he’d probably ever get.
Rolling onto his back, he closed his eyes and tried to shake off the guilt. It was just a fantasy. It wasn’t like he’d really done anything wrong, and he probably wouldn’t have even thought about it if she wasn’t such a slut anyway... if she hadn’t come into his room half-naked and dropped her towel to give him a glimpse at what she had to offer underneath. She was practically begging for it, but that didn’t make him feel any better about it.
He climbed out of bed and tucked back into his pants before he began tearing the comforter off of his bed so he could throw it in the wash. It was nearing summer anyway and with the rising heat, he could just as easily sleep with sheets alone and barely notice. He hiked downstairs and tossed his blanket in the washing machine and then jaunted back up to his bedroom. Creeping down the hallway, he paused outside Peyton’s door at the sound of her voice.
“I don’t know, maybe. It’s totally fucked up, that’s for sure,” she was saying to someone on the other end of her cellphone. “I’m just looking forward to this weekend so I can relax by the pool parent-free. Now if I could just get Scott to drop off the face of the planet, everything would be perfect.”
He rolled his eyes and started to back away from her door, and then he heard her giggle.
“Well, he may be totally hot, but he’s so uptight I can barely stand to be around him. Of course he’s still a virgin! Come on, who would fuck him? Seriously, Adrianne, seriously! Are you gonna come over here this weekend and fuck the anal retentiveness right out of him? I didn’t think so.”
Scott could feel the first bubbles of anger stirring in his gut, and the louder Peyton laughed, the angrier he got. Several times he started toward her door again, then restrained himself, finally steering toward his own bedroom, but no longer disguising the sound of his footsteps. He hoped she heard him walking away... Bitch!
He even slammed his bedroom door for good measure, garnering a shout from their parents downstairs to keep it down, as some people had to work in the morning. Clicking the lock on his door into place, Scott sat down on the edge of his bed and pushed the anger away. What did he care what Peyton and her snotty little slut friends thought of him? She was nothing, and when he was gone he’d never think about her again.
But as the week wore on, even though Scott did everything in his power to avoid his wicked stepsister, Peyton was everywhere he went. On Wednesday she and her friends showed up at the ice cream shop where he worked and made a huge mess he wound up having to clean up. As she was leaving the shop, she turned around and smiled sweetly at him before flipping him off and rejoining the giggling gaggle of bitchy sluts in the parking lot.
Thursday Scott came home from work late and raced into the darkened bathroom only to find Peyton soaking in a bubble-filled tub with nothing but a single candle flickering on the edge of the sink.
“Ever hear of knocking?” she blurted, splashing upward to in surprise. For a moment Scott just stood there watching trails of bubble glide down her slick, wet body, exposing the firm, round mounds of her breasts and pebble-hard, luscious pink nipples.
“Ever hear of locking?” he shot back, stepping backward out the door, his eyes never leaving the glaring headlights staring back at him.
Peyton made no move to cover herself, but found a sly grin when she realized he was checking her out. “You like what you see, Scotty boy?” She glanced down, her gaze hovering over the crotch of his pants as her tender pink tongue darted out to moisten her lips.
His voice got stuck in his throat, and as he backed out of the bathroom, he nearly choked on it. By the time he got to his bedroom, he couldn’t think about anything else but his stepsister’s amazing rack and the raging hard on bulging against his zipper. Locking the door behind him, he tore out of his pants and was stroking his cock before he even had them all the way off.
He felt like such a hypocrite, but the hypocrisy of hating Peyton while being completely and utterly aroused by her only seemed to entice him more. Every tug on his balls, every swift, upward jerk on his cock and he imagined it was her hand, her will spurring him on and begging him to explode all over those sweet, heavy tits of hers.
“Jesus,” he grunted, his furiously pumping hand moving so fast the friction almost burned. He didn’t care though. He needed to get off. “Fuck, fuck...”
He fell back into the bed, his pant legs twisted around his feet while he worked himself into an explosive frenzy. It didn’t take long at all, maybe two minutes, before cum shot from his swollen head like a geyser, raining down on his stomach and thighs like fire before instantly cooling as it ran in rivulets over his skin.
He didn’t understand the sudden fascination with Peyton, who had always repulsed him as long as he could remember. It was like some outside force had torn the fabric of his reality, and though there was definitely something inside him that still loathed the very idea of her, Scott could feel himself growing obsessed with the notion of plunging her depths in ways he’d only ever fantasized about with super models and porn stars.
God! What was wrong with him?
He rolled upward, ignoring the cold run of cum dripping down his abs and bent to untie his shoes so he could finish undressing. He needed a shower, but the last thing in the world he wanted was to run into Peyton in the bathroom again feeling as confused and anxious as he felt inside.
On Friday, their parents didn’t even say goodbye, but left a note on the counter letting them know they’d be back Sunday night and reassuring them that if they had any parties, there would be hell to pay.
Of course, the promise of hell to pay had never stopped Peyton from throwing parties before. Scott shoved the note away and surveyed the quiet house. Peyton was probably bent over some teacher’s desk for a little after school extra credit, and though there was no guarantees on when she’d be home, he planned to take advantage of an hour or two alone in the house without her.
Hoisting his knapsack further up his shoulder, he hiked the staircase an
d shuffled down the hall fully intent on settling down in front of the Xbox to play a little Elder Scrolls. As he neared Peyton’s room, the partially opened door drew him near it like a tractor beam and though he couldn’t exactly explain why, the familiar scent of her perfume lingering near the doorway triggered tingling trickles of desire in his gut.
Dropping his backpack on the floor outside her door, he nudged the door open with his shoulder and stepped boldly into the forbidden territory that had been barred to him for the last twelve years. Of course, he’d glimpsed her room from the hallway time and again, but he hadn’t set foot in her bedroom for as long as he could remember.
Peyton certainly wasn’t the neatest animal, with worn clothes tossed into piles on the floor and makeup strewn across the surface of her dressing tables. There were lipstick kisses smeared across the mirror beside pictures of Peyton and her friends at parties and summer camp. Her bed looked like it hadn’t been made in over a year, with one pillow dangling over the edge in threat of falling and the sheets crumpled diagonally across the mattress. And then he saw something that really piqued his interest hovering at the edge of her nightstand table... her diary.
It was jam-packed with secrets, of that he was sure, and though he told himself he really didn’t want to know how many of the teachers she’d fucked, the promise of discovering her secrets sucked him toward the end table like gravity. He reached down, fingers brushing the cover as he studied its precise position in order to put it back exactly as he’d found it.
Peeling back the cover, he studied her doodles, the carefully scripted handwriting that made his own quick scrawl look like a chicken scratching in the dirt. Tracing his fingers across the letters as he read:
Warning—Reading this diary may be hazardous to your health because if I ever find out you even so much as cracked the cover, I will tear out your heart stomp it to a pulp with my favorite heels. THIS MEANS YOU SCOTT WALDRON!
A nervous laugh caught in the back of his throat, but he quickly cleared it and sat down on the edge of her bed, the diary still in his hands. Thumbing through the first few pages, he skimmed over the words, catching little of interest except a minor confession about Peyton’s jealousy over Adrienne Walker’s amazing tits. Scott closed his eyes a moment and tried to remember Adrienne’s breasts, but his mind kept flashing back to the perfect view he’d gotten of his stepsister’s rack in the shower. He flipped the pages, continuing to skim over the content and finding himself mildly aroused as he read about her sexcapades with the captain of the basketball team and his cousin. He was particularly excited by the words, “I love cock. Everything about it turns me on. I love the way a man’s skin tastes, the hot gush of cum against the back of my throat, but more than anything I love to feel a nice, big cock inside me. Maybe I am a slut, but I don’t care. Last night, while Dane and Charlie double-teamed me, I’d never felt more fulfilled in my life. Talk about a double-header! LOL!”
His pants suddenly felt tighter, as his own cock raised and hardened at those words. Two guys at once? She really was like some kind of porn queen the more he thought about it, and as he did think about it, his hand wandered, stroking through the taut fabric at his strained erection and trying to picture Peyton taking two cocks at the same time.
He turned the pages, skipping forward to more recent dates and stopped when he spotted his name. He was sure she had nothing but nasty things to say about him, which in its own right might actually turn him off and that would probably be for the best. He couldn’t keep fantasizing about his own stepsister, even if the taboo nature of those fantasies seemed to be the one thing keeping him hard.
I don’t know what happened to Scott, but he’s such a freakin’ grouch. I can’t even look at him without him freaking out on me for breathing. I remember when we used to actually be close, like real siblings. Now we can barely even be in the same room together without World War III erupting.
I seriously think he just needs to get laid. I know, diary, getting fucked seems to be my answer for everything, but if the method works, why give it up? He’s so uptight, always slinking around the house with a scowl on his face like some kind of troll. Maybe if he came out of his little video game cave and met a real girl, he’d be a lot more pleasant to be around.
I’d fuck him myself, but God, imagine how he’d react to that kind of proposition. He’d probably implode and leave a nasty mess all over the walls and then Mom would be super pissed. Though, maybe he wouldn’t freak. I don’t know. Last night he came home and rushed into the bathroom while I was in the tub. I know he was totally eying my tits. He ran out in a befuddled huff, which was totally hilarious, and then he locked himself in his room. Probably beat off while he was in there, imagining he was spraying his hot, creamy load all over my titties.
I bet he has a nice cock. I’ve checked the package enough times, and it’s nice and firm inside those tight jeans of his. I can only imagine what he looks like without the jeans. I’d show him a thing or two, that’s for sure.
“Jesus,” Scott gulped, and mostly because that was exactly what he’d done, but also because he couldn’t believe what he’d just read. His own stepsister wanted to fuck him? “Jesus!” he said again.
He was so wrapped up in those words, he almost didn’t hear the car door slamming in the driveway until he heard Peyton call goodbye through the window. “I’ll call you later,” she promised whoever had driven her home.
“Shit!” He scrambled to put her diary back the way he’d found it and jumped up from her bed. He quickly glanced around her room to make sure everything was back in its place, and then he darted out into the hall, pulling the door to the position she’d left it in. Scooping up his knapsack, he threw it over his shoulder with a thud and tiptoed down the hall to his own room. He quietly closed and locked the door, only releasing his breath once he was sure he was safe.
Dropping onto the edge of his bed, he laid back with a sigh and tried to ignore the throbbing hard on in his pants. Peyton wanted to fuck him. He reached down and caressed himself through his jeans, realizing with a smirk that he’d masturbated more in the last week than he had all year, and it was all because of Peyton. It was sick and so wrong, but every time he thought about burying himself in her warm, wet folds, the wrongness of it all felt right. She wasn’t really his sister, so how wrong was it in the end?
He stroked himself slow and steady as he listened to Peyton walking up the stairs and slipping into her bedroom. He imagined her stripping out of her school clothes, flopping down on her bed in nothing but her panties, her firm, heavy tits bouncing up before settling against her ribcage. He wondered what those tits might feel like pressed hard against his chest as both of them gasped to catch their breath, or how they would feel dangling as she rode him hard, her rock-hard nipples brushing against his skin with every downward glide onto his cock.
God! He hadn’t even taken his dick out of his pants and he was two rubs away from orgasmic bliss. Imagine how quick he’d come if he actually found himself in a situation like that with Peyton. She’d probably laugh her head off and take to calling him the minute man. Or maybe she would take him under her wing and really show him how it was done. The first scenario was more likely, but the second one made him harder.
Oh the things she could teach him, he though, imagining every one of them in bright, vivid detail as he gasped and jerked himself nearly raw. Peyton showing him she sucked cock... Peyton laying back in his bed and spreading her legs wide before gesturing for him to come closer and have a look at the puffy pink layers of her sweet, creamy pussy. She’d tell him to have a taste, and Scott would reluctantly oblige, darting his tongue out to tickle her little pink nub until she moaned despite his inexperience and tangled her fingers into his hair to push him deeper into her snatch. And after he’d made her come again and again, he would lift his gaze to her face and take great pleasure in the tortured ecstasy that tightened her lips and furrowed her brow, smugly grinning as he rose to the occasion and ploughed deep into t
he moist, pillowy folds of her pussy.
Scott lost control, cum bursting from the throbbing head of his cock and a stiff, almost strangled moan catching in the back of his throat. It was definitely satisfying, but the real thing would be even better, and as Scott’s hand dropped beside his thigh onto the bed, he realized he was a man with a mission. Before the weekend was out, he was going to fuck Peyton and she was going to beg for it.
Saturday morning dawned early, and Scott headed off to work. As he drove the quiet, empty streets of their small town, he tried to imagine just how he was going to put himself in a position that would take things in the direction he wanted them to go. With his luck, she’d be gone from home long before he even got off work and he’d wind up with his hand in his shorts all night entertaining this bizarre new fantasy that had seemingly confused his thoughts.
He spent the work day feeling easily distracted. By the time he finished his shift at two o’clock, all he really wanted to do was head home, strip out of his uniform and dive into the pool to wash away the sweat and clear his head. He half-expected to pull into the driveway and find a half-dozen cars, but the driveway was empty and for a second he felt a trickle of disappointment. Peyton probably wasn’t even home, and he guessed that was for the best. The last thing he wanted to do was embarrass himself and give his stepsister anymore reason to degrade him.