STEPBROTHER Love 2

by Scarlet, I.

  Could I really learn to give amazing head in less than twenty minutes?

  Over the phone?

  The 7-11 parking lot was pretty much deserted, so I pulled one out of the box of twelve—red white and blue bomb pops—with one hand, and held my smart-phone up with the other.

  Roger was a stone fox.

  Dark hair, dark eyes, a classic roman profile, and tattoos running up his shoulder from his arm. I wondered if his arm was sleeved in the metallic looking loops and swirls.

  “I got them…” Pant, pant, “now what?”

  “You’re gonna suck on it… what else?”

  I felt myself flush.

  “Look, sadly that thing is about the size of the average male genitalia.”

  I looked at it and scowled. “Really? Jo—I mean, his is a lot bigger.”

  “Well congratulations, you picked a good one. Now back to the popsicle. Start sucking it into your mouth, and push it back in there as far as it will go.”

  I unsheathed the icy treat and did as I was told. It was surprisingly easy… until it hit the back of my throat. Then that gag reflex kicked in and I had to pull it out.

  I looked at the now shiny red, white, and blue ice pop and couldn’t believe I couldn’t even suck down something that small.

  “Harder than it looks, isn’t it?” Roger said, his raspy voice kind of hypnotic. “Now this time, try and keep the thing in there, really let it rub against and then past where your gag reflex is.”

  I so hoped I wouldn’t throw-up. Not in my car, or on the asphalt of the 7-11 parking lot.

  I gave the parking lot another look-see, and then went at it with the popsicle again. This time I went real slow, already afraid of that gag reflex… but when the icy treat touched it, I didn’t gag. I held it there, and then started to move it around until it slipped on past whatever caused the gag reflex.

  “That’s it,” Roger praised. “Now pull it out and do it again.”

  The popsicle was getting thinner by now, and it was much easier to push it back in my throat.

  Thank god I really loved the red, white, and blue bomb pops.

  But I didn’t think I’d be able to look at them the same way ever again.

  I had a confusing moment where I imagined Joshua naked, but instead of his enormous hard cock sticking up from between his legs, there was a gargantuan red white and blue bomb pop sticking out from his crotch, looking ready for take-off.

  “Hey, Yolanda, I think we lost her!”

  I blinked and looked down at the screen of my iPhone. Roger and Yolanda had gone split screen on me.

  “Sorry. Where were we?”

  Roger reached over and pulled something out from beyond the camera’s view. He stabbed it onto the table in front of him, and when his hand left it, it still stood there, suction-cupped to the table. It was a towering clear, purple dildo with little gold flakes making it shimmer as it slowly stopped jiggling.

  Now that was more the size Joshua was.

  “How am I ever going to be able to do something that big?” I asked.

  “The same way a concert pianist makes it to Carnegie Hall. Practice, practice, practice!”

  Well, sure… that made sense.

  “And don’t worry, your fella won’t mind you practicing on him. Believe me. Even bad head is better than no head.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Thanks, that makes me feel so much better.”

  Roger snickered. “Okay, I’ve got five more minutes. Now that you know you can touch something to the back of your throat and you’re not automatically going to puke, you just have to play around with that and hone your skills.

  “I’m going to show you some techniques here that will help.”

  He scooted up until his face was right above the shiny purple dildo.

  Oh no, he wasn’t…

  “First, gently grasp the penis at the base, like so.” He reached his big, calloused hand out and grasped the thing around the base. “Be careful not to scratch or bite the penis. Because a wound of any sort is far more difficult to heal on a penis.”

  My brows furrowed. “Why’s that?”

  “Because that thing gets hard and soft all the time. Especially at night. So any healing that might have happened gets stretched out and re-tears, usually just making things worse.”

  I nodded. “Check, no biting or scratching the penis.”

  Was I really discussing penis post-injury care with a gay collegiate basketball captain?

  “Warm up your lips like this.” He puckered up like he was going to kiss someone, and then he started moving his puckered mouth around left, right, up, down, and then around and round.

  I think I’d seen this technique in movies about acting classes, and on a Facercise YouTube video my mom started doing a year or so ago.

  Then Roger stuck out his tongue and waggled it around a bit.

  “Really, Roger… do you really have to do that?” Yolanda complained. “I’ve seen your tongue in action before. Remember Remy Martin, the star forward for Louisville?”

  Roger’s expression turned wistful. “Best tasting Cardinal ever…”

  He shook his head and smiled. “Next, try and build up some saliva in your mouth. You want your first suck to be very wet.” He licked his lips and gazed down at the big purple phallus with real hunger in his eyes. “Start out with some licking if you like.” He leaned forward and licked up and down on the dildo’s shaft, his tongue going from long, dog like lapping to a deft flick, kind of like a tongue whip.

  I suddenly wondered where the phrase tongue lashing originated.

  “But,” Roger said as he leaned back from his task for a beat. “For my money, the best part of a suck-job is the sucking.”

  He licked his lips again and slowly leaned in toward the dildo. “Don’t forget to sheath your teeth,” he said. “That goes back to no biting or scratching.”

  He demonstrated a partial smile while covering his teeth with his lips—reminded me of when people mimic having no teeth.

  And then he did it. I watched in horror filled fascination as he lowered his mouth onto the enormous purple phallus, taking it into his mouth, and then further, and further… until his lips were all the way to the bottom.

  Wow…

  He must really practice A LOT.

  He came up halfway and then went back down, repeated that move a few times, and then came all the way up to the head and did a half-suck, half-tongue-lashing thing.

  He was truly a blowjob master.

  He sat up and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Did you see what I did to the head there? I flourished my tongue over the sensitive flesh of the cockhead. That will drive a guy wild.”

  He grabbed the phallus by the base again. “But since you’re a beginner, here’s a trick to get past the not-deep-throating thing. While you’re sucking, forget being lady-like, and drool. Let that drool flow, and as it slides down his shaft…” He stroked his hand up and down the shaft of the dildo, and then lowered his mouth onto the head again, demonstrating what he’d just explained.

  It looked complicated… but it also looked a lot easier than trying to cram all of Joshua’s cock down my throat.

  But I was going to learn to do both. I wanted to please Joshua as much as humanly possible. Plus I really wanted all of him in my mouth.

  He came up and breathed heavily. “If he’s really big, at some point his cock will cut off your air supply. Just remember to breathe through you nose on the way up. But if he’s on top, face fucking you, don’t be shy. Let him know he’s suffocating you.”

  And just when I thought I couldn’t be anymore embarrassed…

  Roger pulled the dildo up from the table, making a popping sound.

  “You see this?” he asked, pointing the head of the purple dildo at the camera. He was pointing his fingers at the small faux opening at the top of the phallus.

  “Yes.”

  “That there’s the piss slit. I’m sure there’s a fancier name for it, but that
’s what I call it. Dig your tongue in there for added stimulation.” He flipped the dildo over and shoved the large purple balls into the camera. “And these are the balls: testies, testicles, the boys, family jewels—whatever you wanna call them. These babies are SENSITIVE. Be gentle at all times… unless your fella’s into BDSM.”

  “B what?”

  “B&D is bondage and discipline. S&M means sadomasochism: meaning getting off on inflicting and/or receiving pain. The sadist likes inflicting, the masochist likes to receive. It can also mean dominance and submission… and tying people up. The two work hand in hand pretty well.”

  Is there anything kinky this guy doesn’t know about?

  Roger checked his watch. “A couple minutes left, so… about the balls.” He shoved them into the camera again. “Lick them, suck them, massage them lightly. Just don’t get carried away because if you hit them the wrong way, or twist them, it’ll hurt like a mother.”

  I sat there in silence as all that he’d just told me melted into my brain. Because whether I liked it or not, I was going to remember everything he’d said… and everything he’d done.

  Forever…

  “Oh, and there’s a trick for dulling the gag reflex altogether, besides some Chloraseptic sprayed in the back of your throat. Just make your left hand into a fist, with your thumb inside, and squeeze. It’s some sort of pressure point thing.”

  Squeeze my left thumb… got it.

  “Okay Yolanda and friend, I’ve gotta go.”

  And with that he hung up on us.

  Yolanda’s face took over the screen of my iPhone and she sighed, fanning herself.

  “I’d never change a hair on that boy’s head… but if he ever decided to go straight for a day, I’d do my best to keep him that way!”

  I giggled.

  “Me too,” a woman’s voice joined in from right beside me.

  I jumped when I looked up and to the left and a saw a raven haired vixen in a matching black spandex sports bra and shorts. She had a heart monitor thingy strapped to her arm, and an iPod with earbuds running up to her ears. She had a light sheen of sweat on her.

  She looked like a sports model for Reebok.

  “Who the hell is that?” Yolanda piped up.

  The woman leaned in, her make up free face also free of any blemishes, her thick, perfect lips pursed and then turning into a smile.

  “I’m Willomena Landis, and that man was gorgeous.”

  “But he’s gay!” I said the same time Yolanda did.

  Willomena looked me over, then looked at Yolanda.

  “I don’t think that will be a problem.”

  My mouth fell open as Willomena Landis turned and leisurely started to run into the sunset. I could just imagine “Revolution” playing as she faded into the sunset.

  Holy shit, the sun was beginning to set.

  I didn’t even know if Joshua would be there.

  I’d left without a word—I’d been late for work.

  But he didn’t know that.

  What had he thought when he’d woken up, alone?

  “That bitch really thinks she’s something, don’t she?”

  I did a double take. I’d forgotten I wasn’t really alone.

  I picked up my phone. “Yolanda, thanks so much, Roger was… very informative. But I have to go.”

  She smiled wickedly into the camera. “To put some of his information into practice?”

  I felt my face warm.

  “Bye.” And I hung up.

  Oh. My. God.

  But, as I turned my car’s engine over and put it in gear, I thought…

  Yes, that’s exactly what I’m planning.

  Chapter 13

  Joshua

  It was harder to find than I had thought.

  I knew it was on the west side of the city, down a two-lane highway, and on a corner.

  Well, I found the two-lane highway fast enough, but there was nothing on any of the twenty-six corners that were along its ten mile stretch.

  But on the way back one road turn off stuck out more than all the rest.

  Morebrooke Blvd.

  I turned off on it, and about a mile down the road I found what I was looking for. I pulled in and asked about one of their products. Turned out it was exactly what I’d been looking for, so I ordered a gallon… and some waffle cones.

  Chapter

  14

  Cali

  Joshua’s shiny car wasn’t in the garage when I came home.

  I felt disappointed and a little nervous.

  Nervous in a bad way.

  What if he’d gotten pissed off and left.

  What if he didn’t come back?

  But just then he roared into the driveway behind me and stopped.

  I opened my car door and practically ran to him.

  I stopped about three feet away. I wanted to jump up into his arms and kiss the ever loving shit out of him. But something told me to hold off on that until we were inside.

  That was, if he still wanted to kiss me.

  Joshua got out of the car, a large white paper bag in his hand.

  “What’s in the bag?” I asked, having nothing else to say.

  He turned it and showed me the logo of two polar bears with red bibs on. The name of the ice cream shop was emblazoned in red above the polar bears.

  “You went to Janie’s Polar Dip?”

  He nodded. “I know you only like the strawberry ice cream without chunks.”

  I smiled. He’d gotten me Satin Strawberry ice cream. Was there anything about me he didn’t remember? I love everything strawberry… but frozen strawberries were just nasty little bits of ice. They ruined ice cream. The Satin Strawberry from Janie’s Polar Dip was the smoothest chunk free strawberry ice cream ever.

  Did that mean this was more to him than just a strings-free romp in the hay?

  I followed him into the house, and he pulled out a couple dishes and spooned out some of the creamy, delicious ice cream.

  I grabbed a couple spoons and waited, falling on it like a ravenous wolf the instant it was in front of me.

  Mmmm…

  So freaking good.

  It really was satiny smooth, and by far my favorite ice cream, ever.

  I was scraping my bowl for the last melty spoonful when I noticed that Joshua had barely touched his ice cream.

  “Don’t you like strawberry ice cream?” I asked, getting up and putting my bowl in the sink.

  He shrugged. “Guess I’m more of a mint chocolate chip kind of guy.”

  Mint chocolate chip… I filed that away for later.

  I picked up his bowl—it was about half melted.

  I took a spoonful and held it up in the air.

  “I bet I know how to make this your new favorite flavor.”

  I let it drip down on my exposed décolletage. Melty or not, it was cold and made my skin go all goose flesh.

  “Oh no, I’ve made a mess.” I looked Joshua in the eye and saw a predator getting ready to pounce. “Can you help me clean it up?

  He reached out and pulled me to him, his face inches from my breasts. I felt his breath, hot compared to the melting ice cream. He lowered his face and slowly licked the ice cream from my flesh.

  I shivered all over, my nipples hardening, my heart racing, my breathing coming in ragged gasps.

  But I had other plans for Joshua.

  And they involved advanced homework assignments.

  I pushed him back against the back of the kitchen stool he sat upon and pulled up his shirt, revealing his fabulous six pack… actually, counting it now, it was an eight pack.

  Meow.

  I looked at him and a purr emanated from my lips. “Take that pesky thing off.”

  His faded green eyes were totally mesmerized. I think, if I’d asked him to take off all his clothes and go outside and play in traffic, he might just have done it.

  He pulled his t-shirt up over his head and tossed it on the counter by the sink.

  I licked my
lips. My stepbrother was probably the best looking, fittest man I’d ever seen.

  And right now he was all mine.

  All…

  Mine…

  The thought made my head a little dizzy.

  I took the bowl and leaned in and kissed him on the lips, short and chaste. Then I fed him a spoonful. Letting it drip down over his bare torso as I did so.

  He jerked from the cold ice cream on his skin, but smiled as I fed him the melted ice cream.

  I set the bowl down on the counter again.

  “I made a mess again,” I said playfully, and then leaned down to slowly lick the spilt ice cream from his chest, and where it dripped onto his stomach, and then even lower.

  Joshua took a sharp inhalation as I licked slowly down his eight pack, and then, when I got to the waist band of his jeans, he chuckled.

  “There isn’t any ice cream down there.”

  I smiled up at him as I started to unbuckle his pants, pulling them apart and peeling the denim back.

  He was naked beneath the denim. “Do you always go commando?”

  “Only when I’m anticipating being with you,” he said breathlessly.

  That was so… romantic. In a kind of sick way.

  Sick or romantic, it drove me right over the edge.

  I.

  Had.

  To.

  Have.

  Him.

  Right here, right now.

  I grabbed the waist of his jeans and pulled down as hard I could.

  “Whoa,” Joshua said, tipping over toward me, but catching himself. “Let me help you.”

  He stood up and pushed his jeans down around his ankles, then sat back on the stool, leaning back to give me better access.

  Good god, he was beautiful. His body was put together with an artist’s eye, but with sin and physical power the ultimate goal. Broad shoulders, a tight, sculpted core, and arms and legs so well defined you’d think Michelangelo had carved them.

  Okay, here I was, standing at the precipice of… of…

  Good god, I only wanted to blow my sexy stepbrother! Why did it seem so…